The Lost One

Artwork by Arnilo


Greenhall, that grim, battered stone keep, loomed over grey seas and wind swept beaches, over the sprawling pirate's town that had sprung up around it, over the ships and slave pens of the greatest reiver these seas had ever known - Argora Blackbolt, Galaw orc, pirate chief. It was she who had repaired and now resided within Greenhall Keep.

Outside wind and rain battered at the windows of a small chamber just off the main hall. Inside the chamber, looking out at the grey windy void, rgeough narrowed yellow eyes, was Argora herself, six feet tall of  High Galaw orc, muscles moving beneath smooth green skin, dressed in canvas and boiled leather. She was at the prime of her life, with only a slight streak of grey in her hair. At a table sat an immense figure, another orc but as dissimilar to the Galaw as night is to day - an orc of the Vanolosé, Blid by name, accountant and advisor to Argora. He had an abacus near to hand, and was making some notations in a set of great leather bound ledgers.

"...and with the lasht month's takings, we have five thoushand  nine hundred and fifty two pounds of gold, twelve thoushand shix hundred eighty-two of silver in coin and bullion at our ready disposhal, while in ranshomable prishoners we have..." Blid was saying.

"Enough, Blid" Argora turned away from the window. "It's hard even to concieve of such wealth. For me it is, anyway. The wealth of Argora Blackbolt..."The Galaw orc smiled slightly "For Argora Blackbolt it's only her due. For another Argora..."

"The other Argora?" Blid looked up from the ledgers.

"Argora as I was." she replied "Growing up friendless and shunned by all."

Argora paused "You know, a while back I revisited the nostalgic scenes of my youth."

Blid knew, but decided to say nothing. It had  not been a profitable venture.

"Burned down a few wretched huts, took some pitiable goods, slew a few people who were unlucky enough to be remembered by me. But none of them remembered who I was at all, none remembered the starving child I had been, none remembered the shunned one who, they, as children threw stones at and drove from their company. I must have seemed like some manifestation of pure chance, robbing and burning and slaying for no reason, like a storm or a plague among their miserable goat herds. It wasn't nearly as satisfying a revenge as I had thought it would be, when that starving child wished death and destruction on them all."

"Really, I shouldn't have hated my old kith and kin" Argora continued "They taught me an important lesson. About how you can only depend on yourself in this world, and that the chains of family and your neighbors are the first things you must break if you ever want to be free. No one will give you anything you don't take."

Blid, having closed the ledgers with a sigh - in these moods, Argora was not interested in bookkeeping - put away his ink and replaced the abacus on a shelf.

Argora was still talking, partly to Blid and partly to herself "Well, I havn't done so badly, have I? And I've paid off many debts. Oh, yes. Have you ever heard that story they tell in Nortender - you know, the one about the knight who is the head of the Order there, on his deathbed? And - as the followers of the Nailed God do - they ask him to confess his sins and forgive his enemies before he dies. And  the knight replies, firmly: "I have no enemies to forgive - I had them all killed."

 Argora laughed "Well, that's me, all right. Although..."  She turned to Blid, frowning "Tell me true now...does the frog-bitch still live?"

"She ish surely dead by now" Blid replied, evasively. "Say, I wash wondering" he said, to change the subject "what exactly is thish?" Blid picked up a small, battered wooden figure from the shelf next to the abacus.

Irritated, Argora snapped "Don't palm me off Blid! About the frog-bitch, is she..."

At that moment a tall, graceful person entered the room, not quite human, a young deer woman - the doar, Flea. Argora turned to her and they embraced. No one knew where the mysterious doar had originated, beautiful and mute as she was, but she had been brought up by the ruthless pirate chief as her own daughter, and at times seemed to be the only thing Argora loved. 

"How are you my dear?" said Argora. The doar nodded happily, and rapidly mimed contentment. Argora smiled, turning to Blid and saying "Well, we'll discuss you-know-who at another time."

Blid was examining the wooden statuette. Battered and worn though it was, there were flecks of green paint still remaining on the bare wood. One of the statue's arms had long ago been broken off - the other extended an empty fist, as if it had been holding something.

Flea crossed over to Blid and touched the wooden statue. Blid gave it to her, and the doar examined it as well.

"I don't know what you see in that thing" remarked Argora "I've had it as long as I can remember, before I became Blackbolt, actually. I have no idea where I got it, or when, but it's plainly of no value. I keep meaning to throw it out but for some reason I never do."

"There are traces of fine carving on it" Blid said "but nothing I am familiar with." Flea turned the statuette over and over in her hands.

"Wherever I got it" said Argora "certain it is no one gave it to me. No one gave me anything as a child."

And now we travel uncounted miles away, far from Aiers and Greenhill, through space and time to somewhere else, millions of years ago in our own past, on a continent long since sunk beneath the waves. It is the Southern Continent, and we are in the Lowlands of the Realm of Great Dagon, on an entirely respectable small estate of the seafolk gentry. We see a small green figure sitting on a slight sandhill next to a miniscule stream. This figure is none other than she who we know, in years to come, as Amphy the Amphibian Girl.

 She was called Inarraa then,a young tadpole, bright and new herself in that springtime world, and she was the much loved and much cherished young mistress, heir to the estate. Just now she was playing among a vast array of toy soldiers, waiting for some of her cousins to come back and help her maneuver her army.

"Lets see" she said to herself, arranging a line of green spearwomen on a rise in the ground "this Ro takes the high ground here, an' then I put the stone thrower here an' then the battle can start!"

A growling in her stomach reminded her she was hungry, so Inarra picked up the lunch box a human servant had brought down to her a little while ago, and opened it to see an array of carefully packed fresh fish and rice rolls, kept cool by the white laquered lunchbox. She was about to take one out before she sensed that someone was was watching her. Inarraa looked up.

Some distance away another small green creature, dusty and disheveled, wearing a tattered grey smock, was looking intently at her. At first Inaraa thought it was one of her cousins, but she  then noticed the near human features. Inarrraa tried to think. Were there green humans? 

And unbidden, came a memory of the session she had had with her last tutor, the one she didn't like.

 Inarraa had no idea exactly why she didn't like the new tutor, but there it was. Something about the new tutors faint condescension towards them all, the slight imperceptable sneer of an Inqanok town dweller , the amused tolerance of the rural countryside's backwards ways. 

During the last session the topic was human beings and their different types. Her tutor had laughed and said "Well, no matter what outdated superstitions claim, really, humans are just mongrels, biologically inferior. Science tell us that they are impure, lower in the great hierarchy of life, and that we seafolk are the only pure race. All this old-fashioned stuff about they and us being sisters in Dagon..."

At that point the door had opened and her mother looked in, frowning. She motioned to the tutor to come outside, and they both disappeared down the hallway to her mother's study. Inarraa listened but could only catch a few disconnected phrases of the argument that ensued - "will not have blasphemy taught my daughter" "there is no morality in a fact..." "your contract states, ma'am" "outdated folk-beliefs are..."  among others.

And that afternoon saw the new tutor and her baggage getting on a carriage and disappearing down the dusty road, to Inarraa's relief.

Later, her mother had taken her aside "Young one" she had said to her "our human tenants are our responsibility, a very great responsibility. They are lacking in many respects but they are our sisters and brothers in Great Dagon, and we must never be so arrogant as to forget that. We must help them and guide them, and someday you will be mistress here - and I hope you keep that in mind Inarraa."

And now Inaraa saw that the small green creature with bright yellow eyes was looking intently at her box of rice and fish, with a hungry expression on her face.

Inarraa thought to herself "I am the young mistress here" and thought of her mother handing out fish to sick and aged tenants of theirs. Determined to act like the generous young mistress, Inaraa pushed the lacquered box over to the strange little green person, who first stared at Inaraa, as if fearing some hidden trick. 

"Go on" said Inarraa "take one. It's all right."

Somehow reassured, the little green creature fell upon the rice and fish and stuffed it into her mouth with both hands, quickly gulping down all of the remaining food as Inarraa watched, wide eyed.

"Well" said Inarraa, a little taken aback "you certainly must have been hungry."

The food box forgotten, the little green creature was crawling around a line of Inaraa's toy soldiers, picking one up, examining it, then putting it back. I wonder if she has any toys of her own thought Inaraaa, pitying her. 

Her visitor had picked up a toy spearwoman, and was looking at it with obvious longing. A sudden desire to be very generous, as generous as befitted the young heir, the young mistress, overcame Inarraa.

"Do you like that one?" Inarraa said softly "You can have it to keep if you want. I have lots more."

The strange little girl looked up at that, and Inarraa nodded and repeated "It's all yours" For just a moment, Inarraa thought she saw a tentative smile on her face.

At that moment, Inarraa heard voices behind her, and turned to see several of her cousins running down the hill towards her, back to play with her.

Inarraa turned to the strange little girl and was about to say "You can play with us if you like" but the strange little girl was no longer there. She was gone, and so was the toy soldier. And there were no marks on the sandy soil to indicate where she had been.

"That's odd" thought Inarraa, and throughout most of that afternoon she wondered, from time to time, where the strange little girl had gone, and hoped she might re-emerge from the surrounding sparse forest and play with them. She looked so lonely, and so lost.

But presently she forgot all about her visitor, and the missing toy soldier.

"No." said Argora "nobody ever gave me anything" She shook her head. "Come along, Blid" she said to the giant Vanolosé orc "I want to take another look at those ships we just purchased. Those bastards will cheat us blind if we don't inspect what they send us thoroughly."

And yet for some time after Blid and Argora had left the chamber, Flea stood alone, pressing the battered little wooden statue to her chest, with a faint, shy smile on her face.