The Ogre and the Highelf

The Meeting

The Ogre and the Elf

On a world, far away, where fairies dwell and unicorns roam. Where beasts abound and magic is in the air, I bring you a tale so old it transcends time itself.

He came from the dark dank swamp forest. His village was carved out of the sides of a canyon deep within. He was large, but then ogres had a tendency to be that way. He kept his head shaved, his tattered garments as clean as possible. He was inquisitive, always asking questions. He wanted to know what was beyond his home, what adventures awaited him and because of this, he was scorned and ignored by his family and his people. While those of his race had dealings with the darker elements, he chose to walk a different path. One he found hard, one that would eventually bring him into contact with people who hated ogres. When he reached the age of ascension, which was not soon enough for him, he fought his way out. He fought his way out of the village, out of the dark forest swamp and into the sunlight.

At first, he had to do most of his traveling by night because the bright sun hurt not only his eyes but also his skin. It turned red, blotchy, and blistered all over. Eventually his body became use to the sunlight and slowly he ventured out more and more during the day. As he traveled, he fought the beasts that would attack him, honing his fighting skills until they were sharp and true. Eventually he came upon more populated areas but he was shunned because of his size and his features. (Lets face it, he was an ogre and they are not the most handsome nor well loved of people.) He would try to sell the few pelts, trinkets and odd items he had acquired on his travels in order to by food and better armor but few would buy from him or sell to him. When he did find some that would, he stayed in the area and hunted. He slept on the ground, in small caves or hollows he made in the soft hillsides. He bathed in creeks or rivers in the quite hours between dusk and dawn, when he knew none would come by. Eventually he made his way to a large bustling seaport. He tried to enter but the guards chased him away with threats of death if he ever showed his face again.

One evening he was hunting well away from the city entrance when he heard the sound of fighting. Slowly he crept up and to his surprise, there was a young girl, a high elf, fighting a large rat and not doing well. She was weakening quickly. He could tell by the way she swung her weapon. Without thinking, he rushed from his hiding place and with one swoop of his clawed weapon; he cut the rat in many large pieces. As the rat lie dieing he glanced sideways to the girl. She stood there breast heaving, sweat dripping from her firm jaw, weapon hanging limp in her hand her eyes staring at the dieing thing at her feet. Slowly she raised her eyes, her mouth open ready to speak, then she saw what was standing next to her and in reflex took a step back, eyes opening wide and gasped. The rare smile that had started to appear on his face froze. His eyes narrowed as he saw her reaction. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned and started to walk away. He still could not understand why people turned from him; he meant no one any harm. He never hurt any thing unless he was attacked. He shook his head in sadness as he lumbered along. Deep in his own thoughts he almost missed the quiet voice and light touch, “Sir...Sir, I....I'm s..s.sorry for my reaction, it's j..j..just that...” and her voice trailed away to silence. Her head hung, dark red hair hiding her face. He stood there a moment stunned. Someone spoke to him. Actually, spoke to him without rancor, or hatred in their voice. Slowly he raised his large hand and gently placed it on her shoulder. He could feel her body tremble and he was not sure if it was from his touch or the aftermath of battle or perhaps a combination of both. “It be aright l'il un.” his normally deep voice sounding even more ominous than usual to his ears. “Pudug use ta bein peeked at lik dat. It aright now no wet ferm eyes” with that he drew out a piece of pelt he had tanned and worked till it was a soft as a baby's behind and started rubbing the high elf's face.

Suddenly her trembling turned into shaking and as he rubbed her face, it seemed to get more violent. He did not know what to do so he just stood there and looked at her, his tanned pelt in his hand. Then a sound came from her, a sound he was not very familiar with but it sounded like...yes it was...laughter. She was laughing at him. He stiffened and started to turn away but her hand on his arm stayed him. He looked down at the hand so frail lying on his arm. He thought, I could break that in an instant and quickly pushed the thought from his mind. He angrily looked at her as she spoke through her laughter. “Please, I am sorry, I was not laughing AT you,” she said. But you were rubbing the skin from my bones and it struck me funny.” She looked up at him with laughter in her green eyes and he was lost. His anger melted as the dew in the morning under the bright sun. Her face was red from the rubbing but her eyes had a sparkle he had never seen before. ”Come,” she said, taking his hand. “Join me in a drink, there is a quiet tavern in town and I would like to thank you for your help.” She took his hand and started towards the entrance. He pulled her back. “Pudug no go, kill Pudug no lik.” The look on his face tore at her heart. “Then is there anything I can bring you from town? Food, water, supplies?” she asked. He thought a moment; it would be nice to have some supplies. His arrows were getting low and he was having trouble getting the things needed to make them. He fingered his backpack. “Mebe purdy ladee take and sell, get Pudug arrow stuff and food?” he hesitantly asked, afraid she would say no yet afraid if she said yes he would never see her or his things again. Without a thought, she replied that of course, she would and taking his pack, she hurried off into town.

When she returned there was no sign of the big ogre. She scoured the area calling his name and nothing. She became frantic. She ran back to the guards asking if they had seen the ogre. They told her not since they had chased him off many days ago. She just glowered at them and ran off back to the spot where she had left him. She started a systematic search and eventually got to the small shack at the end of the city wall. From inside she heard muffled sounds. Slowly she crept in and there lying on the dirt floor was Pudug. She dropped his pack and ran over to him kneeling down beside him calling his name. As she did, he turned toward her and she saw the many wounds that covered his body, she sensed his life force leaving him and without thinking laid her hands on him. From her body there came a soft glow. Slowly it worked its way through her to him. She slipped into a trance like state until all her energy was gone then slumped over him. She was spent, everything she had she gave to him. As she dragged herself to a sitting position, she watched as his wounds started to heal and his life force slowly returned. The majority of his wounds were healing, now was the time to take care of the smaller ones. She dug into her own pack, pulled out bandages, and carefully covered his wounds. As he started to regain consciousness, she started feeding him small quantities of food and water. Over the next few days, she nursed him back to health. Finally he was able to get up and around on his own. Coming back from town with fresh supplies one day she found him outside the hut, swinging his sword from side to side. She started to admonish him but realized this was something he needed to do. She stood there a moment watching him. He was big, he was not handsome but there was gentleness to him that she had sensed at their first meeting that drew her to him, she smiled and moved forward.

During that 'healing time' as Pudug thought of it, he would watch her, Felilea; watch her move around the hut. When she was attending to him, she was focused. She made sure he was eating, she constantly checked his wounds and if it didn't look like one was healing as she thought it should she would lay her hand on it and a warm glow would infuse the area and the wound would disappear. The first time this happened it startled him. He had heard of such as her. Healers that could just touch you and make wounds go away. He had never experienced it before himself and it was nice to feel her cool touch on his heated body. During that time, they talked and he made arrows. When he ran out of stuff, she would go into town and get him more. She told him of the gnolls and the problems the townspeople had with them. An idea came to his head. Perhaps if he killed gnolls the people would like him. Well at least well enough that he could go into town. Therefore, a plan came to mind and when he was well enough he told her of it. She agreed with him and they started to make plans. When the day came for him to leave, he was surprised to see her waiting for him. “Purdy ladee not go,” he told her. “And why not?” she asked. “Bad place, purdy ladee not go bad place” he said as he started out the door. She stepped in front of him, a stubborn set to her jaw. “I will go to the 'bad place' with you and you cannot stop me! I did not heal you for you to go off and get yourself killed!” Pudug looked at her in astonishment. Her face was set in that stubborn look he had come to know. Her eyes sparked green fire and looking at her Pudug knew he was lost. He had found someone to share his life, someone that took him as he was and happiness welled up inside him. He grabbed his 'purdy ladee' and held her high above him then brought her down and close to his heart. “Ok, you call me Pud now”. From his chest, he heard a muffled reply. Setting her down he looked at her. Smiling up at him with love in her eyes, she repeated herself, “and you call me Fel”