the Forest woman

"Welcome to my humble abode," said the pale woman. "Enter freely and of your own accord, and may troubles not assail you."

Fred entered and saw that the shack was indeed only one simple room; nothing adorned the walls, there was a hearth, a table and two chairs, some pots and spoons. Fred coudn't see a bed.

I get so few visitors," said the woman. "The Wood seems intent on keeping my home a secret." She giggled at this and Fred thought her more daft than ever. He sat at the table while the woman brought a cup and a bottle. "Forgive my poverty, nobleman." She poured him some wine but he refused it. He told her that it would serve her better, she said she was not thirsty. So --honor satisfied-- Fred drank. Then they talked.

She had many questions for Fred - of the world and its people. Fred answered as best he could. Then he asked his own; who are you? how did you come to be here? where is this place in relation to Allaria? Her answers were short, some too short. She spoke of her past, of her home to the south. She spoke of the time when she became the indentured servant of a band of dwarves, and she told Fred of their cruelty towards her. She tried to gain freedom but they would have nothing with it, so she became like a slave. Then Providence passed her way (or one of the other gods) and a spell-wielder was placed in the path of the dwarves. Through him she regained her freedom.

"And the dwarves?" asked Fred.

"They're dead now," was the answer.

Fred was silent a while thinking about her tale. Something wasn't right, was it the dwarves? He had never seen one before, it was common knowledge that they were secretive, rough, good metalsmiths, and a dying breed. He dismissed the dwarves and asked a new question: "Why do you stay here? Why not go back home?"

"I have no home," she answered. "THIS is my home now, and here be magicks."

~~aaah~~ thought Fred. ~~ magic is the source of her protection against wild beasts~~ Then he looked her in the eye. "Is it worth it...staying here for magic? Why not go out and find the strength that lies in your hands, your legs, your thighs? Magic is a poor substitute for true life."

"You do not believe in magick, then?"

"Of course I do...I know first-hand of its powerful might! Yet my people are wise enough to tread lightly where magic is involved."

"Wise? Is it wisdom to cast out part of your very nature? Is it wisdom to close your eyes to the truth of maleability? Is it wis-- I am sorry, I must be rambling."

~~Railing more like it!~~ thought Fred, and then: "I am who I am, and I will never take a liking to the so-called 'art' of magic."

"A pity," she responded. "One day you will die, perish as do all mortals. But it need not be so. Your life is more than what you think, and much less. You are but a symbol carved in flesh, and you are more than Truth itself. If you embrace the symbol you could live for an eternity, and that is no lie."

"Bah! Our ways differ much. You seek eternity yet you hide in some forest. I seek life and adventure, and I roam the world entire!"

"You are lost oh swordsman. Yet still you speak a truth: we must do as it is willed - freedom was never much of a choice. Everything that life and magic buys must be paid for, either when we are alive or when we are dead."

"You make no sense -- I am free. I can walk where I will, talk as I will, and do what I will."

"Then leave my home...if you will."

Fred knew this to be a challenge, quite bold from this woman of the wood. He looked at her, he looked at the door. He got up, walked to it, and opened it. The dark wood stared intently back at the swordsman standing by the door. Surely it was past midnight and to set up camp would take time, Fred knew this. The sounds of the night animals, scritching, whining, snapping was all about...and the were-beast was somewhere out there as well. Fred turned, closed the door, and returned to his chair.

"Tell me now, swordsman," said the strange woman. "Are you free?"

1. "I AM!" he said. "Yet common sense tells me that this house is safer than that wood." With that they called it the night and soon the morning greeted Fred's eyes.

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