Amalay had steadily been working her way as close to the table as possible because of her impatience. She hated waiting in line, and whenever there were formalities, there was always a line. Upon everyone beginning to collect, a dodge here, a few steps there, and she was only about a dozen back from those fortunate enough to randomly choose to stand right at the origin of the line. The bows and announcements were largely human youths since we were, after all in the great city of humans, and none were more eager for their time to shine than the young.
Upon her turn, she showed all respect that was due, a flowing curtsy with crossed feet that was almost fluid. Memories of her mother teaching her her manners ran through her mind. “As though you are blown upon the wind, as though you are water trickling over the stones. Hands spiral in, and clasp at your heart. Not so fast, not so slow. Now bend at the knee and hip as though you are to fall asleep. And now remain, but not too long should the person feel themselves not important enough to deserve it.”
Strangely enough, should she show such formality to a merchant troop, not only would she be viewed as strange, they would all be horribly self conscious. She had been a very long time in coming to any sort of nobility.
“I am Amalay Du Lya, Somnant Knight of One Kill, the Dreamer of the Lya. I have come to join the hunters in order to destroy the world... and to elevate a greater one in its stead. A place where the shadow is driven farther than the most distant reaches of the abyss, and the talons of evil is scalded away by the goodness that flows from the people.”
What is in a name? Well, if one was versed in this olden time address, this was more than simply a noise that your family decided to use to clarify what they were talking about. This was a resume. Amalay Du Lya meant that she was from the village of Lya, a small and humble residence somewhere around Lothadid, like it’s greater dwelling, it too was hidden and thus meant very little to those unfamiliar with the forest and the ways of the elves.
Somnant Knight of One Kill, well, that meant she was a warrior that had seen real combat numerous times and was now considered a veteran... however, unlike a warrior in human terms, notching their weapons to keep track of the enemies they have slain, it was the opposite. Each kill was a blemish, since it meant that the conflict could not be resolved without bloodshed or killing. This was a way of the past now, Somnance was the magic of nature to transfigure opponents into harmless forms of life. While it gave a certain edge, and let the Elves sleep at night, it was not the most efficient way of battle since it required quite a bit of training, about twice as long to master as a bow. During the great war, there was no time for lengthy training of troops, and thus more carnal solutions were used. Now, most Elves had taken the habit of notching on human terms, especially since it singled out the skilled rather than sharing company with newcomers, and it was no longer a display of how approachable and humble they were.
Dreamer of Lya meant that she was given a title in her hometown as a dreamer. While someone might not know who Amalay was, they would undoubtedly hear stories of “the Dreamer of Lya.” Depending on the size of the community, such stories could really mean something, but since Lya was pretty small and un-influential, it was probably a hand-full of wild antics that the locals knew about.
With her introduction out of the way, she signed the parchment before her. A calligrapher, she was not, and her chicken scratch was full of asymmetric letters and lumpy blobby loops that would have earned her the tisk of her teacher had she been nobility herself, or had she been studying swordsmanship.
Upon her turn, she showed all respect that was due, a flowing curtsy with crossed feet that was almost fluid. Memories of her mother teaching her her manners ran through her mind. “As though you are blown upon the wind, as though you are water trickling over the stones. Hands spiral in, and clasp at your heart. Not so fast, not so slow. Now bend at the knee and hip as though you are to fall asleep. And now remain, but not too long should the person feel themselves not important enough to deserve it.”
Strangely enough, should she show such formality to a merchant troop, not only would she be viewed as strange, they would all be horribly self conscious. She had been a very long time in coming to any sort of nobility.
“I am Amalay Du Lya, Somnant Knight of One Kill, the Dreamer of the Lya. I have come to join the hunters in order to destroy the world... and to elevate a greater one in its stead. A place where the shadow is driven farther than the most distant reaches of the abyss, and the talons of evil is scalded away by the goodness that flows from the people.”
What is in a name? Well, if one was versed in this olden time address, this was more than simply a noise that your family decided to use to clarify what they were talking about. This was a resume. Amalay Du Lya meant that she was from the village of Lya, a small and humble residence somewhere around Lothadid, like it’s greater dwelling, it too was hidden and thus meant very little to those unfamiliar with the forest and the ways of the elves.
Somnant Knight of One Kill, well, that meant she was a warrior that had seen real combat numerous times and was now considered a veteran... however, unlike a warrior in human terms, notching their weapons to keep track of the enemies they have slain, it was the opposite. Each kill was a blemish, since it meant that the conflict could not be resolved without bloodshed or killing. This was a way of the past now, Somnance was the magic of nature to transfigure opponents into harmless forms of life. While it gave a certain edge, and let the Elves sleep at night, it was not the most efficient way of battle since it required quite a bit of training, about twice as long to master as a bow. During the great war, there was no time for lengthy training of troops, and thus more carnal solutions were used. Now, most Elves had taken the habit of notching on human terms, especially since it singled out the skilled rather than sharing company with newcomers, and it was no longer a display of how approachable and humble they were.
Dreamer of Lya meant that she was given a title in her hometown as a dreamer. While someone might not know who Amalay was, they would undoubtedly hear stories of “the Dreamer of Lya.” Depending on the size of the community, such stories could really mean something, but since Lya was pretty small and un-influential, it was probably a hand-full of wild antics that the locals knew about.
With her introduction out of the way, she signed the parchment before her. A calligrapher, she was not, and her chicken scratch was full of asymmetric letters and lumpy blobby loops that would have earned her the tisk of her teacher had she been nobility herself, or had she been studying swordsmanship.
