Vashj, part 3

With some trepidation Vashj made her way to the back of the church, carefully watching her footing – not just because of the condition of the floorboards, and the chance that she might fall through them – but also because she could not take her eyes off her feet. Her feet had once been small and delicate. Before it all began, before THEY came, she loved to run barefoot along the quiet paths of the forest. She had been looking down all the while she made her way to the church – lost in thought. Still it had never registered. Now her feet where boney and thin, ending in what appeared to be nearly claws instead of toes they where so thing and pointed. Yet, small feet are small feet…

At the back of the church was a lone figure with its back turned to her. The long pointed ears trailing out behind its head told her the person had once been an elf, without her even having to see a face. Between the creaking of the floorboards and the slapping of her bare feet she was surprised that the person did not look up as she approached. Instead he stared intensely at a sheet of parchment he held in his hands. What was not clear was whether this was mean to be derision or simply a sign of concentration. Without looking up the man in front of her spoke…


“Well, well. Says here your name is Vashj!”

The man turned and look at her; continuing to speak in a voice that must have once been deep and soothing but was now made somewhat raspy through are or decay – perhaps both.

“I have heard of ye’. My grandfather knew your family and his grandfather before him.”

Vashj smiled not realizing that what felt to her like a disarming smile was more of a sardonic grin to those around her.

“I am glad…” she began, only to be cut off in mid-sentence.

“Aye, the elf, now undead, continued, I have heard o’ ye’ – in fact your grandfather owned my grandfather. And it was not a debt of fealty what brought about that condition….it was just debt.”

Silence

“Aye, said the elf, not so glad now are ye’? and so it seems the sins of the parents have been inherited by the children. Not much o’ a high elf now are ye’?’

With that, the elf reached up and caressed his long graying ears. Paused. Then a twisted smile crossed his face.

“Ye have not even got yer ears any longer. Dropped ‘em somewhere did ye?”

Horror filled Vashj’s mind as her hand shot up to her head – and she realized that the elf was right.