Observing the elves, the lion watched them evidently discuss what to do with the Pride, hand gestures directed in the Pride’s direction showing their focus on Dominic’s group. It wasn’t long before they had put together a party of their own, the reaction they had obviously decided upon. While waiting for them to approach, he had a quick look at his progress to the next level.
Progress to Evolution: 578/1090 PP
He’d actually got more points from that fight than he’d been expecting – just over three hundred. The average level of the beasts he’d faced must have been higher than he’d thought. Unfortunately, the division across the whole of his Pride meant he was still barely more than halfway to the next level. Sighing, he dismissed the information and looked at the elves finally coming towards them.
Their approach was characterised by nerves that Dominic could see in their hesitant steps and tense facial expressions. He didn’t blame them. He and Nyx alone would have made a formidable picture with their sizes; adding in the other four, three of whom were clearly predators, would just make them even more threatening. Not to mention all the rest of his Pride who remained within a short distance. But Dominic didn’t tell his group to appear more docile – if the elves wanted defenders, they would have to be brave enough to approach them. Which they fortunately appeared to be.
Berion was the only one of the elven party that Dominic recognised. There were ten others, five of whom appeared to be there as guards, if their expressions and grip on their weapons were anything to go by. Of the other five, only one was carrying a weapon at all – a spear.
Dominic could only marvel at the colours of the elves’ skin and hair. Unless they were dyed – which he assumed was not the case – the sheer range he saw before him was far beyond what he had expected. Practically the whole rainbow was represented – the only colour missing was orange. There was even an elf whose white hair almost seemed to glow faintly in the sunlight.
‘I wonder if that one’s hair acts as a torch at night,’ Dominic thought with amusement. Leo grunted in amusement at that.
‘Not much good for hunting.’
‘No,’ Dominic agreed, ‘but convenient at many other times.’
They were unable to exchange any more idle chatter as the elves had reached them. Berion stepped forwards, his copper-coloured skin and green hair almost unremarkable when amongst the rainbow nation of his brethren.
‘Honoured Brother Dominic, Honoured Brother Leo, I present to you our principal elders accompanied by their honour guard. Elder Alwen is the current leader of the elders and has held the position for many decades.’ He indicated the elf who stood to the front of the group and had pale pink hair and even paler skin.
Dominic was pretty sure that Alwen was female, though their fairly androgynous figures made it hard to tell for sure. Her body looked closer to Pelir’s than Ruthror’s or Berion’s, though. She looked young, but there was something in her eyes that said appearances could be deceiving. That and the fact that she was called ‘elder’ and had held that position for quite a while.
The elf in question stepped forwards and crossed her wrists over her chest, bowing her head slightly.
‘On behalf of myself, the elders, and all of Selanthis, I greet our Honoured Brethren who have come to help us in our need.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Dominic responded, feeling a little awkward. He had never been all that comfortable meeting new people. Though he thought he’d got over that since none of his meetings with other beasts, even the ones who talked, had been half as awkward as he remembered things being as a human, but apparently not. Maybe it was just meeting humanoids – since the elves were that even if they weren’t humans.
Still, the elven elder took his awkwardness in stride. Perhaps she didn’t expect much more from a ‘beast’. After all, even if he’d told Berion about them having two minds in the same body, he hadn’t revealed that one of the minds was human. If elves even knew what that was.
‘I am accompanied by Elder Lystar who represents our mages, Elder Ilastir who directs our hunters, Elder Sylmar who works with our crafters and healers, and Elder Melia who is the voice of our farmers. And I represent the voice of our people as a whole.’ One by one she indicated the elf with the bright white hair, another with deep violet-coloured hair reminiscent of Talathon’s, an elf with blue hair, and the last with green. Dominic supposed that at least it would be easy to tell them apart – he wouldn’t struggle like he had with the lions in the beginning. Their names might be a bit more difficult to remember though.
‘Hi,’ he said to them all, then internally told himself off for reverting to the unconfident young adult he had been before the System had arrived. ‘It is good to meet all of you,’ he continued, trying to sound more self-assured.
‘The pleasure is ours, from what Berion informs us,’ Ilastir answered, his voice deeper than Dominic was expecting. ‘My hunters in particular will value your support.’ Alwen sent him a look and he closed his mouth on the words he was evidently going to say next.
‘My esteemed colleague, though perhaps a little…presumptuous in his words, does not lie. Hunter Berion has indicated that you might be willing to help us in our current predicament, and your demonstration with this most recent of the beast waves which assail us indicate that you are most certainly capable of doing so. We have little to offer in payment for your help – we are not a wealthy city – but we will recompense you as much as we can.’
Dominic eyed the elven leader carefully, drawing his lips up and breathing through his mouth to catch her scent. He didn’t smell anything which might indicate that she was trying to deceive him in any way. She was nervous, but not unduly so, though she did flinch when he drew his lips up and revealed his teeth. She was also tired, exhausted, actually, and Dominic suspected that it wasn’t a case of not getting enough sleep. Underneath the strong smell of fatigue was the sour hint of fear and the mournful scent of deep-set grief. All five of the elders were the same in that regard, but Alwen's scent had the strongest grief component out of all of them.
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‘Listen,’ he said, looking awkwardly at the covered bodies lying off to the side. ‘I’m…sorry. For those you lost.’ The elves’ expressions didn’t change, but he smelled pain spike in their scents. Alwen bent her head, her pink hair shifting forwards to half-cover her face.
‘Young warriors, barely out of their childhood and untrained. They will be sorely missed along with all those who have fallen in this conflict before them.’ She was silent for a long moment that Dominic didn’t dare to break. ‘But we can only keep moving forwards. Anything else would be to dishonour their sacrifice.’ She looked up, her expression set. But Dominic could see the grief still in her eyes, like she’d known each of those who had fallen. Known and loved them. And maybe she did – what did Dominic know? ‘I believe you also lost some of your own.’
It was Dominic’s turn to look away. ‘We did,’ he admitted. ‘Young ones too, as well as one who was older.’
‘My condolences,’ Alwen said softly, her words almost a whisper. And in that moment, Dominic truly felt that she understood his grief at three of his Pride being lost.
They were silent for another long moment and then Alwen cleared her throat quietly, as if to naturally bring an end to their mournful silence.
‘What would you desire in repayment for your protection and aid so that no more of these young ones might die?’
It was an understandable attitude, not wanting to lose any more, and it was one that Dominic shared. But ultimately, he felt that it was unachievable. Not for beasts, anyway. Even pre-System life had been a daily struggle for most animals where inattention at the wrong moment could be fatal. And now in this world where to get stronger they had to kill others, that fight for survival had only intensified.
Yes, he knew he needed to do things better – bringing the juveniles had been a risk he probably shouldn’t have taken. Even so, the survivors must have got significantly stronger after the recent battle. It had been too much, too soon. But if he tried to protect them from all harm, they would just stay weak while others grew and then would become easy pickings for someone else. However, maybe the elves weren’t required to kill to level up. If so, it made sense that they could survive without needing to fight. On the other hand, they had needed to ask a Pride of beasts for help…
Dominic realised that he hadn’t responded to the elf’s question and her expression was tightening, the fear in her scent spiking too.
‘Well, when you say you’re not a wealthy city, what do you mean? And what could you provide?’ Dominic asked, not really knowing what they had which would suit the Pride best. Gold was no good without anywhere to spend it – he still had that pouch in there from the first time he’d cleared the dungeon.
‘Our people came together to seek simplicity, away from the great cities. We do not create fine cloth or grow costly spices but everyday food. Our tanners do not treat fine pelts nor do our clothiers create garments suitable for high society, but those suitable for the common elf. Our metal-workers deal with farming tools and weapons, not intricate filigreed designs. And our mages are not the battle mages sought by the King but instead those more interested in communing with the earth and performing simple enchantments which enrich the lives of the common folk.’
‘Well, that works out fine,’ Dominic replied cheerfully, something coming to his mind which they could do with, particularly him right now since using Flash Step in that battle. ‘We don’t need any of those fancy things. We do, however, need craftsmen who can create equipment for us. Armour, weapons, storage containers, that sort of thing, since we can’t really do it ourselves.’ He lifted a paw, demonstratively flexing what he had as fingers, his claws sliding in and out of his paw. ‘There might be some other ways your settlement can benefit us too,’ he added, thinking about the mention of farmers. Dominic had no desire to see the savannah turn into a wasteland, but at the same time they needed to keep advancing. Perhaps magical farming could hold the answers for that dilemma?
The elders didn’t look entirely relieved.
‘Beasts can wear equipment?’ quietly commented the one Dominic thought had been called Lystar.
‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it,’ Sylmar answered just as quietly. Not quietly enough, though – he obviously underestimated the effects of Telepathy. Dominic decided not to respond, though – if they didn’t realise he could hear them, it was just as well to keep it that way.
Alwen glanced between her fellow elders and the Pride members. Berion, standing off to the side, looked slightly anxious too.
‘It pleases us that we might be able to make a balanced agreement,’ she said carefully, ‘but we admit that we were unaware b- your kind could wear armour or use weapons.’
‘They have to be specially worked,’ Dominic admitted, then stood up and turned to show his tail. The elves briefly drew back at his movement, but then approached again as he turned his back to them. ‘It’s a bit damaged as a result of that recent fight, but it’s served me well.’
He was speaking, of course, of his tail armour which was in a sorry state. The ball had burst apart along with the tip of his tail when he accidentally left them inside another beast at the end of a Flash Step. His tail tip had partially grown back – still fur-less – but the metal ball was missing completely. Dominic hadn’t taken the armour off, though, since the metal around his tail both protected and enhanced it all the same, but he was keen to replace it if he could.
Sylmar and Lystar stepped forwards and seemed to almost forget where they were as they started chatting about its construction, its materials, its enchantments, and a whole load of other jargon that Dominic couldn’t understand even with Telepathy helping him.
‘Lystar, Sylmar,’ Alwen said sharply. The two elders looked up from where they were crouching together, almost touching Dominic’s tail. They looked faintly embarrassed, quickly standing up and stepping back with more haste than grace. Alwen looked at Dominic, the skin around her eyes tight. ‘My apologies – my colleagues are intrigued by the construction of your…equipment.’
‘It’s fine,’ Dominic dismissed. ‘So, do you think your crafters can help us?’
Alwen looked first at the crafter and then mage representatives. Sylmar and Lystar nodded, the first uncertainly; the second enthusiastically.
‘Yes, I believe that we can come to an arrangement.’
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