The ElfQuiz Parody: The Revisionist History: Take-a-Look 2: The Flea-Bitten Glove (Installment Three) -- Chapter Five: Trial by Humans (Enter Windkid the Glider) -- [Author's Note: This first scene initially belonged at the end of Chapter 4. But I decided it might work in better here. It also shows that though I don't like Nightfall, I don't think she's the bane of elvenkind, either.] Like ants crawling through the pavement cracks, they walked through the canyon. Evening had come, and everyone was ready to move on. All was quiet among the Wolfriders, for if just one spoke too loud, they could all be crushed in an avalanche. Even Leetah, who was still learning the basics of sending, resorted to mind-to-mind communication. No one complained, because they were all driven by the potential consequences of talking. Nightfall found herself stuck in the middle of the group. Seven turns prior, her refusal to help Redlance in his most desperate hour caused the Wolfriders to flee the old holt. Every time she thought back to that evening, she trembled. How much she had grown since then! And yet, she had learned little but gardening, and how to further betray Redlance. Silently cursing, she chose to fight back the memories and the pain. Trying - and struggling - to win her own war, she sent to the group, **This canyon is a very convenient passage. Why didn't we find it earlier?** The ever-perceptive Dewshine replied, **We had to deal with Quickblade's mess. At least we got information from that Osek - and it was right. But back during our first escape? Oh, Nightfall, those nights were just freaky. I don't even remember how I acted,** she admitted, feeling a few tears overcome her. In the front of the group was Suntop, ever gazing towards the plains ahead. He took up this journey for Savah's sake - and they all were trying to follow up on that. But what, he asked himself, What could have caused her hang-up? And what can cure it? By the time the group reached level ground, the other traveling elves were fighting for their own lives... *** Chief Olbar called the Ahon G'yat Hso court to order by tooting on his "horn of justice." All the humans were packed in - even the Bone Woman - and the elves were shoved into the very back row. Since the humans' chief was the self-appointed judge, and his tribe the jury, he needed to find some lawyers. Olbar, from behind his massive desk, called out, "/A human lawyer has already been assigned to this case. Now, who will stand for the spirits?\" As soon as the name "Oarken" was mentioned, Hoodbearer jumped in her seat. "/How did he get here?!\" she exclaimed, and then checked her companions to see if anyone was staring back at her. Thought the other elves were not terribly happy about Oarken, the mad scientist of the Gotarians, being there, only Hoodbearer knew what it meant. Jumping to conclusions, Olbar raised his right hand and announced, "/I'll take that as a yes. You may now come forward, spirit-lawyer.\" He seated himself and secretly pulled out a pack of gum. Feeling that something had to be done to alleviate Hoodbearer's shock, Stormie whispered, "/Go on! We're gonna need you, 'cause you speak better Human than the rest of us.\" A minute later, Hoodbearer dejectedly stood and took the sawdust trail up to the seat prepared for her. Now everything was ready. Oarken took the speaker's stand, and told them, "/The reason we are gathered here today is not because of the long-discarded accusations against Adar and his chosen, not because of the alleged control of the Bone Woman over Chief Olbar, and certainly not because of the repercussions of the Spirit War some years ago. No, the reason for this trail is a question that demands an answer: can the spirits be trusted? I will proceed to turn this over to the first witness, Eward of the Gotarians, a former Spirit-Man of the aforementioned tribe.\" Having amazed the humans with his eloquence - though little else - Oarken took a seat. Cutter, Skywise, Woodlock, and Foxfur all knew the witness. Eward looked the same as ever, what with his white beard, random jewelry, and sour expression. He had, however, adapted to Ahon G'yat Hso ways of life quickly, as was evidenced by the fact that he now wore reasonable clothing. The old man told them, "/I have never in my life trusted any sort of spirit. My experience has testified to that they are a pestilence to be vaporized off the face of this planet. This is what I believe, and may Gotara strike me down otherwise.\" To the surprise of many, Eward promptly fell off the witness stand, though he was unharmed. "Well? Say something." She felt prepared. Though clearly nervous, the human-raised elf marched up to the stand and presented her defense: "/Need I present evidence? Humans, we ARE the evidence. I have lived with Nonna and Adar for quite some time - and the slightly-less-savory Oarken and Lefetha before that. You could say I have witnessed much in human behavior. There is a tendency humans have to experience extreme reactions to us spirits... or elves, as we call ourselves. For worse or better, this has pretty much existed since... well, a long time. Perhaps some further persuasion from my companions can help change your opinions. Now, will someone please step up?\" she requested of her fellow elves. For a painfully long moment, no one moved. And then Woodlock got up. Reverting to his fuming maniac mode, he usurped Hoodbearer's podium and attacked the audience with, "/I despise humans! Eward, you're an old acquaintence of mine. We met back in the humans' old camp. Do you remember that, ya old fool? I had come - since nobody else was available - to rescue the one now known as One-Eye from you humans. There I saw you, mocking my tribe, and there I saw you, spouting your diatribe! Well, let it be said that the humans would likely have taken me prisoner if we hadn't hit upon a sudden streak of luck. In short, I am a bit pessimistic about finding a full reconciliation.\" That said, he snuck back to the elves' bench. Hoodbearer, on the opposite end of the bench, groaned quietly. A massive creaking echoed through the courthut. It had a fairly obvious source: the Bone Woman. She waddled towards the stand and declared, "/Have we had enough now?\" By this point, Olbar didn't know quite who to believe. He suggested, "/How about we ask Nonna and Adar to speak for themselves?\" The Ahon G'yat Hso chief did not want a riot. "/Ah, finally,\" said Adar with a sigh. He took his rightful place at the witness stand, and with authority, he told the jury, "/You'll understand what I mean by not understanding any of this. Life with Nonna has been confusing at best. Though our marriage was finally put into legal terms by the Hoan G'tay Sho, we've still been strangers in a familiar land. But why, some of you may ask - and with reasonable suspicion - am I putting behind my past as an 'elfie'? The reason is that I have finally decided to take up my father's trade, so that I might deserve the venerable surname of Wood-Cleaver. Now, do you care to take us in, or will we be forced to take... drastic measures again?\" Despite the occasional remark from the humans that will go untranslated, they seemed to agree with this idea. Nonna followed her husband to the stand, and asked of the crowd, "/What do I think of the issue of good and evil spirits? I think it's a lot of bologna!\" Incredibly, the humans had no idea what that meat-like substance was, but she went on, "/My point is that when I was with my old tribe, I met a bird spirit who took her time to heal me from a mysterious disease. Thus I have concluded that the - ahem - majority of the spirits are good in nature. That may be debatable theology, but I think that this group will help us in ways that even you may not understand.\" She walked down from the podium, and gave the elves a glance that made each one shiver. Then Cutter remembered - she was talking about the character contracts. According to what Nonna and Adar had told him, they were set to be accepted by the Ahon G'yat Hso, but trouble would soon come for the elves. He didn't like the idea of such predestination, but the contracts undeniably held all their lives in balance. If they broke the set expectations any further, punishment would probably come... When Olbar read the "not guilty" verdict for the elves, Cutter was comatose. *** To the travelers from Sorrow's End, the plains were a welcome sight. They needed to be able to relax a little. Except, of course, for Strongbow. The famed hunter never allowed himself any liberty, and this time he decided to take up big game hunting. Today's target was a large bird, flying several thousand feet above him, and seemingly alone. Though the Wolfriders did not know it - yet - one young elf was riding that bird. He was called Windkid, and by his tribe's standard, he was a foolish young Glider. Windkid had flown ahead of the others that day, mainly because he was sick and tired of Tyldak's endless chatter. He knew not what hit his mount, only that he was suddenly falling. Of all the Wolfriders, Suntop was the most alone, and he was listening hard enough to hear Windkid's scream as he free-fell. Leetah's male cub sent to the group, **There's going to be a big problem here within seconds! We need a net - now!** As the tribe hurried together to provide a safe landing spot for Strongbow's unlucky target, seven other Gliders swooped in to his rescue... *** The trial was over. For the first time in turns, Cutter and others found themselves welcome in a group of humans. A victory celebration was quickly held in their honor, which would also commemorate the return of Nonna and Adar to the tribe. And thus the elves found themselves seated on a human-made platform, watching the A.G.H. perform a curiously cultural dance known as "Mosh Pit." "Fascinating," Cutter commented, half-awake, "I think it has some aesthetic qualities which redeem it." He continued to gaze at his shoes. Skywise thought otherwise. "Doubt it. I give it four fingers down - the whole scope of human art does no justice to the elf culture," he remarked. No one asked Woodlock's opinion, but he gave it anyway, "I quite frankly don't care," the wolfless one said. Hoodbearer said nothing, for she was only beginning to understand Elf. She felt more alone than ever. Dobil, too, was silent. This was for the greater good of the people. Always the one to note what usually went unspoken, Stormie added, "I'd really prefer to move on, but I suppose this is all right for now. Leaving the Ahon G'yat Hso would probably annoy them more than us." "Oh, whatever," grumbled Foxfur, "Just let them do their worst." She planned to have Stormie once again at her command - and soon. Not far above them, an unseen critic was watching the elves. He was the true Starjumper, a self-made elf, and the alleged cub of Cutter and Nightfall. Starjumper knew little of the Wolfriders' ways, but at the same time, he knew far too much. Fools, all of you are petty fools, he thought, And it will not be long before I have dominion over all of you. -- Chapter 6: What is "The Flea-Bitten Glove" Anyway? (It's the Pit) -- The Dreamberry Preserve(r)s awaited. From two thousand feet in the air, the place didn't look very impressive - in fact, it looked like any run-of-the-mill fantasy forest. But that was not necessarily so, and Tyldak, Windkid, and Aroree all knew that. To them, the Dreamberry Preserve(r)s was a hideout, a vital cover-up for their lair. After all, if a group of elves are going to make themselves superiors to a tribe of humans, it is important that the humans not accidentally find their masters' home. When the Chosen Eight-and-One glided down for a landing, they did it by flying in non-concentric circles, so that the humans would be utterly confused and never really know where the Gliders lived. Having been caught in midair by his commander Tyldak, Windkid was not terribly happy. He complained to the bird-shaped one, "If these other elves are in as much pain as I am, then you, Tyl-dung, had better let 'em go! Are you listening to me? Loosen up with those claws!" By their orders, he could not carry any of the small elves that they had just captured, but instead, Tyldak would carry him. Probation really sucked. Though his face was fixed on the sky ahead, Tyldak grimaced. He swore to himself, When we get back, I am going to deliver the brat to Winnowill AND the Captive of Captives, and let both of them deal with him. It need not be said that Tyldak didn't respond to Windkid's insults. Looking to Aroree instead, he asked, "Do you think we're clear for a direct delivery? We've made ten roundabouts, and if anyone is trying to track us, I'm sure that they're thrown off by now." "Well... I can't really say 'ah, yes' or 'ah, no,'" commented Aroree in her inexplicably "southern" accent, "But while we're still holding on to the ones we've got, we should drop right in, just to lighten our loads. Y'know, I think the two I've got are cute," she said with an inane giggle. A response came from the mouth of one very angry Wolfrider and tree-shaper: "I am NOT cute!" Redlance screamed. His patience long since exhausted, Windkid developed an evil plot in his head. Taking immediate action, he hoisted his body towards Aroree, and despite Tyldak's orders, he kicked her quarry... *** The Ahon G'yat Hso called him Thief, for lack of a better name. He called himself Greymung, for that was his name. The old troll king had gone into self-exile, and he resided among the humans. It wasn't an easy existence Thief/Greymung had, but he made the best of it. For one, he was (figuratively) king of the garbage scows. Of course, he had to disguise himself, in the most ridiculous outfit even worn by one of his kind, and stick to the shadows, but everything else was peachy. But on this particular afternoon, the troll sighted Cutter and his friends watching the human celebration, and he decided to make them a proposition. Skywise's dwindling attention was drawn from the dance by a curiously familiar voice. "/Hello there. Would you like to buy a souvenir?\" Thief/Greymung asked him in a stilted accent. The stargazer found himself puzzled. He cautiously turned his full attention to the disguised troll and replied, "/Maybe. What are you trying to sell me?\" Looking a bit further, he could see, even from the high platform, that this "human" had gloves on his hands, and underneath those gloves were four fingers. "/Souvenirs. I have this large rock. It's not much, but it'll help you remember this village. Would you buy it? I'll say for starters thirty-five,\" offered the odd-looking one. Again, Skywise was baffled. He wondered, "/Thirty-five what? And why would I want a rock anyway?\" The ever-devious vendor snickered, and said, "/I got it for, let's say, a steal. But if you don't want the whole thing, which goes for thirty-five fire eyes, you can certainly put your swords to use and take a small chunk for, oh, twenty-five fire eyes. That would be a bargain, my friend.\" Greymung/Thief ever-so-slightly tipped his fruit-covered hat. Cutter intruded on the conversation, inasmuch that only Stormie even cared about the humans' dance. "You're being ripped off, in case you didn't notice," he noted quietly. From the little that he had seen, this four-fingered, rock-toting saleshuman was bad news. "Then... I WILL rip it off!" shouted Skywise, showing a surprising amount of initiative. He slashed at the heavy rock, but just barely missed. Meanwhile, Greymung/Thief panicked. He lost his balance, fell to the ground, and the fruit-covered hat fell off. His identity was now obvious. The Wolfriders' chief looked down on the less-than-bright troll, who had nearly made them another bad deal. "We'll let you live this time. But keep your souvenirs away from us," he growled in the language they were used to. A few hours later, the elves bade the Ahon G'yat Hso farewell, and continued onward. They headed northward toward some very entertaining cliffs... *** When Redlance and One-Eye woke again, they simultaneously moaned. Both, though they did not recall it at the time, had fallen from a high position, and neither were quite ready to move. The tree-shaper, despite having lost several teeth, grumbled, "Did we get dropped off or what?" and then returned to the world of the unconscious. Barely more alive than his fellow elf, One-Eye swatted a big dreamberry that flew his way. Something was definitely wrong, for he could still recall when the flying elves took all the Wolfriders as hostages - but where were the others? If he and Redlance had truly been dropped from their clutches, then the others must have flown further on... Then and there, One-Eye vowed to himself that he would get his contract renewed. *** On the way down to the Dreamberry Preserve(r)s, the elves sighted Chief Olbar running their way, toward the edge of the cliffs. He looked down at them and screamed, trying to overcome the massive roar of the waterfalls, "/GO... GLUE FOUNTAIN ... MAY LACK... SELAH... DREAMBERRIES... DON'T ILLEGALLY FAX NOW.\" Sure, some of his words didn't quite get through, but they got the basic message. An hour or so later, the eight-minus-one of them were in the Dreamberry Preserve(r)s. Looking from tree to tree, they noticed something a bit out of place. It was the only thing not wrapped in the spidery goo that pervaded the place. Cutter, utilizing his transcendental signifier, named it, "The flea-bitten glove," for that was what it was. He picked it up and put it on his right hand - and it fit, for this glove had four small fingers to it. "Intriguing," Skywise commented, regarding the glove, "Now what's it for? Well, Foxfur, I believe you know a lot of trivia. Why might this 'flea-bitten glove' be important?" he asked of his former lovemate. The secret-keeper's expression was as blank as anyone else's. Foxfur confessed, "I really wouldn't have any clue. Oh, if anyone is willing, I'd like to go back to my old hut some time soon... just elf-sonal business." This was lost on all but Stormie and Dobil, but Hoodbearer was especially outside the joke. "/Can someone tell me what's going on?\" she requested of the culturally literate ones. Suddenly, Foxfur smiled. And I thought that Hoodbearer would understand this more than anyone else. After all, she was the one who actually witnessed the whole incident where the flea-bitten glove got started, she mused, but then admitted to the human-raised one, "Oh, it's nothing, more a private joke than anything else. However, if we ever get time alone together, I could tell you a lot about your cubhood that you may have forgotten." She shrugged mysteriously and kept right on walking. "Anyway," interjected Cutter, "I'll just keep the flea-bitten glove for now." After being chief of the Wolfriders for many turns, he was used to many things - many bizarre things. The others didn't comment, because something even stranger came their way. They saw a small legion of dreamberries flying at them, as if a divine wind were behind them. Dobil nearly jumped out of his shoes, and declared, "I heard Olbar talking about dreamberries, but I didn't think that it would be quite like this..." As for Cutter, he was ready for anything. "I hope everyone remembers Pike's 'maneuver,' for it's finally going to come in handy," he stated. The chief slashed Noon Mew at the assailants, but all three dreamberries that he had aimed for dodged out of the way. "Stupid, stupid dreamberries," Cutter cursed, stomping in fury. The intelligent fruit stuck out their tongues. Though the flying dreamberries had no eyes, it seemed almost natural that a tongue would just portrude from their bodies. Just as the taunting stopped, they instantly regrouped... and cleared the way. Now the elves had a small, straight passage to travel through. "I doubt it's safe," Woodlock griped, but the others ignored him. At the end of the corridor, the elves were faced with something far, far worse than any animated dreamberries: two humans. Male and female they had been made, but the couple was liberally dressed (even for humans), and long since keeled over from drunkenness. Instantly, a scowl and a growl came from Hoodbearer. She sent, **I don't know these two - but I've got a feeling that the flying dreamberries either love them or hate them. We may have just been appointed judges in a case of alleged cannibalism.** Dobil lost it. His eyes snapped open, and he screamed, "CANNIBALS?! Whoa, I am out of here!" The so-called Go-Back scampered like never before, and as he ran, he practically tripped over the humans. That, in turn, scared the couple into sobriety, and they ran as well. And so, mere seconds after the sending, six elves were left standing, with nothing more to say. *** Starjumper enjoyed the view from his tree. He could see the Dreamberry Preserve(r)s, and even the allegedly hidden Glue Fountain. That afternoon, he watched as seven of the Chosen Eight descended into their private hole. He did not know exactly where the seven foreign ones were, but if his approximations were correct, they were nearing Glue Fountain rapidly. Perhaps it was time for them to meet the Gliders. Calming himself, he privately sent to the Captive of Captives, **This is Starjumper, reporting from outside the Ahon G'yat Hso village. Most of the Chosen Eight have entered. Can you welcome some other guests? After all, I saw the Gliders were rather burdened with elven cargo. So, will it be a reunion?** Just as privately, he got his response from the Gliders' dungeon keeper: **Yes... that will be amusing. I will open the hole in but a moment. For you, Starjumper, I suggest you investigate the Glue Fountain area yourself, to make sure we get only the right ones.** The sending came in very clearly, for the Captive of Captives had a lot of training in long-distance sending. **I will comply. That should pretty much take care of all our troubles. I'm heading down,** the wild elf sent, leaping from his private tree into a world of slightly surprised humans, which he conveniently ran right past. *** The six elves stood together, within sight of the spot the humans had fled from. Cutter was the chief of all puzzled ones, and in his sight, the clues just didn't fit together. These were the Dreamberry Preserve(r)s after all, and according the character contracts, they should have been seeing Glue Fountain. Yet there was no sign of the place. **Something is wrong here,** he openly sent. "Hey! I get it!" Stormie exclaimed. She told her now-attentive audience, "Those humans, and Dobil, fled for a reason. They don't especially like the woods. Now that they're not here, they're safe from whatever dangers might await us. There's a chance that this might all be a trap- -" Her sentence had been cut off by the ground suddenly giving way. All those who had traveled together fell together, down into the goo-filled pit known as Glue Fountain. Things had been interesting, and they were becoming more so. -- [That's all -- until I re-post TAL 3.] This compilation was created, by Alan (John Alan Riggs), on February 17, 1999. Please refer to my other pages for legal disclaimers. -Alan