Dragonstone 8

**Chapter 8**

Arin wakes up to find Vanidar and the Generic Elves checking on her. She explains that she had a vision, or rather, *“I Saw;”* specifically, *“bloody slaughter sweeping o'er all.”*

The other elves speculate that maybe she saw a vision of some past war, but Arin says *“It cannot be a past happening, Rissa, Vanidar, at least I think it cannot, for it seems to great to be obscure, and I did not recognize it.”*

As we will soon discover, these elves seem to know virtually nothing about their own history, so this is rather less than convincing.

The Generic Elves ask Arin for details, and she decribes her vision: *“Steeds thundering 'cross the land, reaving swords slashing down, hacking off legs and arms and heads, gutting the innocent,”*

How did she know they were innocent?

“*spilling their intestines out on the ground.”*

Eww.

“*Day sky dark as night with the smoke of burning cities. Forests hewn. Fields salted. Rivers running red with blood.”*

Generic devastation everywhere!

“*Gorcrows and vultures by the thousands feeding upon the slain multitudes,”*

Where did they all come from? Vultures don't just spontaneously generate when there are enough corpses to feed them.

“*slashing beaks plucking out eyes, rending flesh, gulping down gobbets of rotting meat.”*

*Eww!*

“*Great dark winged shapes wheeling in the sky, flame roaring from their throats –”*

The Generic Elves freak out at this, because apparently the dragons have never involved themselves in a war before. This convinces them that Arin's vision was of some future event. But wait, there's more!

“*I beheld a map of Mithgar, a great stain of blood spreading wide, covering the whole of the land.”*

**SUBTLETY!** \~/

This reminds me of a scene I wrote when I was about 14. That is not a compliment.

But wait! There's more!

“*Riding in the train of war comes plague, pestilence, and famine, for long after the crush of cruel iron has swept past, tens of thousands will continue to die – nought but skin and bones, with great pustulant black buboes bursting forth and spewing out yellow poison.”*

***EWW!***\~/

“*And scuttling among the stricken to feed upon the dead come rats and beetles and many-legged crawlers and other creeping vermin.”*

Beetles: heralds of apocalypse.

Arin also saw (or rather, Saw) a green stone, *“a lucent jade . . . Smooth and egglike,”* which was seemingly central to all her apocalyptic visions. One of the Generic Elves wonders if it might actually *be* an egg, to which Arin replies *“Plain it is not . . . nor is it an egg. How I know I cannot say, yet it* is *a green stone.”*

Spoiler From Another Book In This Series: it's not actually a stone.

The Generic Elves stand around staring at each other for a while, and then Arin sighs as suggests that, hey, maybe they ought to tell someone about her horrifying vision of war and slaughter? Someone such as *“the Dylvana Coron and his Court, the Lian Coron, too.”*

So we're off to see the king of the Wood Elves and the king of the High Elves.

Vanidar informs Arin that they could also check with Rael, *“for like thee, Dara Arin, she, too, can <see>.”* Arin resists the urge to smack his condescending face, and off they go.

To my surprise, the travel scene is summed up in a single extra-large paragraph. The elves meet some Baeron – McKiernan's answer to Tolkien's Beornings – and we learn the all-important fact that the elves give the Beorning-ripoffs the stag meat, *“though Vanidar kept the antlers from which he would fashion handles for knives and perhaps other utensils as well.”* \~/

Suddenly, we're with Remar, Coron of all Dylvana, aka Wood Elf King.

Sadly, no, although I do wish I had Joel and the Bots helping me with this.

Remar looks at all the Generic Elves, but none of them have anything to add. Why would they? Arin was the one who had the vision, and none of them seem to have any personality traits unique insights that would help. Remar looks at Vanidar, who offers the brilliant conclusion that war is, y'know, bad, so we should, maybe, like, try to stop it?

The elves waste a page pondering whether destiny can be averted, and reach the conclusion that they don't know. Remar then directs Arin to consult with Rael, the crystal seer, as well as informing the High Elf King. So . . . exactly what they had planned to do already. That was a waste of two pages. \~/ They even decide to keep the posse together, on the theory that since the Generic Elves were present when Arin had her vision, maybe they have *“a part to play in the events to come.”* (spoiler: no, they don't).

Remar & Co. spend another page debating whether they should warn any of the filthy, inferior, non-elf races about this impending cataclysmic war, based on fear that the warning might, in itself, trigger the war.

As an aside, Arin's vision seemed pretty darn detailed; couldn't she tell if the people involved were elves, humans, dwarves, or what? That seems like valuable information to have. And if the people being slaughtered and dying of plague weren't elves, it makes the elves even considering not warning the other races seem pretty monstrous.

In any case, Remar decides that he'll be a pal and warn the non-sparkly races . . . but only if both the High Elf King *and* Rael think he should. So, in other words, he's passing the buck and risking thousands of lives because he's a coward or a moron. \~/

And now it's time for a **TRAVEL MONTAGE!**

The elves travel *“alongside the Great River Argon.”* I assume they'll come to the rivers Helium and Xenon soon enough. There's two and a half pages of travel porn, \~/ with occasional stops *“to eat and to relieve themselves.”* Hey, you remember all those bathroom breaks in Lord of the Rings? Didn't the sure knowledge that Aragon stopped to piss on a *mallorn* tree add to your reading enjoyment of that epic tale of high fantasy?

Me neither. Because it didn't happen. Because Tolkien understood what mundane details to *leave out.* \~/

The elves make their way toward Olorin Isle, \~/ because original names are haaaarrrrd. They come to a ferry, which is run by the Rivermen; they ferry people across the Great River Argon. This is portrayed as somehow unethical, never mind that the Rivermen have to build and maintain their ferry and perform the hard manual labor of rowing across the river (which takes four men).

Specifically, there are two ferries and an island in midstream; the first ferry takes travelers to the island, the second from the island to the far shore.

Arin questions this setup, and . . . well . . .

“*Rissa laughed aloud, for she had been this way before, and Vanidar said 'Ah, 'tis the scheming of the Rivermen which makes it so: one ferry to carry us to the isle for a fee, another ferry to take us on to thr far shore . . . for a second fee, of course.' Now Vanidar joined Rissa in her laughter.*

“ '*Huah! Waterway robbery,' declared Ruar, yet he was smiling as he said so.”*

Or . . . possibly necessary, if the river is too wide or rough to make a single ferry practical? After all, this basically doubles the Rivermen's workload. And if it *is* unethical, why is everyone laughing about it?

This scene makes no sense.

So the elves load up on the ferry, and one of the Rivermen says *“Y'could help we'ns row.”* Because they're not just greedy, they're lazy. The elves laugh him off, which seems like a brilliant thing to do to the guy whose raft you're on in the middle of a turbulent river.

They reach the island, and the elves ride from the drop-off point to the point where the second ferry is docked. The Rivermen are busy scavenging flotsam from the river, and the elves all take a moment to cluck their tongues disapprovingly over the Rivermen *“[making] their living: from the misfortune of others.”* Because there's something morally wrong about picking trash out of a river for your own use. Shut up, you smug Noldor-wannabes. \~/

The elves pass through the Rivermen's village: *“sparse dwellings, ramshackle cabins for the most part, though here and there stood an adequate cottage*. . ." so this island is big enough to have an entire village on it? Yeah, two ferries is sounding more and more logical; this has to be a *big* river.

“*No adults were about, yet a few small children – dirty and ill-clothed – stood on the docks and gazed out at the boatmen snagging their floating wares.”*

This says less “greedy and unethical opportunists” and more “poor people scraping by however they can” to me.

Anyway, the elves wait for the Rivermen to get back so they can ferry them the rest of the way across, and almost immediately reach Darda Galion and a bunch of local elves.

Drinks: 9

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