Elven Poet

"Yesterday I witnessed something very rare in Laedes. I am highly surprised, and pleased. I have travelled back and forth between the Four Cities and Laedes for seven years now, and though I was always fascinated by this cruel and wild people and this majestic country with its snow-covered mountains, its hills that are home to myriads of wine gardens and olive trees and its hot and savage steppe, I always missed the culture, the fine arts and the spirit that I thought could only be found in the highly civilized and tamed heart of Silver City. Now that I have learned to know him, I must say I was mistaken.

I met him at the warrior tavern in Laedes. The soldiers were playing the "Boasting Game", that disgusting competition of self-praise and name-calling, and I hoped that I would finish my meal soon enough to not have to see the last part of it. Like you might remember, dear reader, the Boasting Game usually ends in brawl (see Chapter Five of the Chronicle for the more detailed description and examples).

But then, at once, one of them stood up and held a speech that was not at all comparable with the simple and foolish words of the other participants. Yes, it was self-praise - but with such wit and irony that I almost choked on my bread. When he came to the name-calling part, he spoke to each of his comrades at the table politely, in a gentle voice, instead of openly offending them, yet his remarks were full of hidden thorns and spikes, and even though the soldiers needed some time to understand what he said, after he finished, everyone was laughing and applauding him. And the best of all - he was speaking in rhymes. Of course, he had won the game, and instead of fighting, the warrior crowd drank and laughed.

I was excited to see who it was, for I had not noticed this man before. I stood up and walked to the table where he sat. Can you imagine my astonishment, dear reader, when I saw that the poet was wearing the blue Spellcoat of a Mage? A Mage, a member of the highest caste, feasting with the common soldiers - these were not pegasus riders but simple infantry fighters - , carrying a sword, and apart from his Spellcoat dressed in not much more than a warrior in Laedes would wear, instead of layers of silk!

I spoke to him and learned that he is, indeed, a battle mage. He is also a poet, and we quickly found common themes. As you already know, dear reader, I am somewhat of a poet myself and love to practice with words, beside my writing of this Chronicle. He seemes thrilled to meet a foreigner who has similar interests, as in Laedes he cannot find many who would understand him. I joined him and his crew for the celebration - it turned out that they celebrated an anniversary of the first won battle of one of them, but I forgot who it was, since my attention was completely taken by this unusual Laedesh Elf.

I think I did drink a bit too much, because I let go of all caution and agreed to spend the rest of my stay here - I plan to travel back to Silver City before the end of Summer - at his house. But as I woke up this morning, I decided that it was actually an interesting coincindence, because now I get to see and explore the house of a Mage, who are the highest Caste in Laedes, for the first time, which means that I can tell you, my dear reader, even more about the Laedesh traditions and way of living!

His name, by the way, is Ryon Alaris."

- Kalyesin's Chronicle, Chapter Ten.




Uh-oh, little did Kalyesin know back then...

More of Ryon Alatris (Warning, could be a bit... well... not for those easily offended):