Path: usenet.ee.pdx.edu!cs.uoregon.edu!reuter.cse.ogi.edu!uwm.edu!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.sprintlink.net!in2.uu.net!not-for-mail From: Guido Roessling Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives Subject: STORY: Qelrik part 87 Followup-To: rec.games.frp.misc Date: 19 Oct 1995 15:26:49 -0400 Organization: Technische Hochschule Darmstadt Lines: 235 Sender: smm@uunet.uu.net Approved: smm@uunet.uu.net Distribution: world Message-ID: <4668pp$kq7@rodan.UU.NET> NNTP-Posting-Host: rodan.uu.net This is a multi-part message in MIME format. -----------------------------1130294221147917954559816595 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit *** Check out QELRIK's WWW Home Page at http://www.pu.informatik.th-darmstadt.de/dida/qelrik.html if you have WWW access! *** -----------------------------1130294221147917954559816595 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Disposition: inline; filename="qelrik.87" ================================================================= Philosophy ================================================================= Fox knelt next to the roped orc, and glanced up at Percy, raising one pale eyebrow. "You do quick work," she murmured. Her fingers touched one of the knots near the orc's twisted shoulder. "Good knots." She looked back down at the orc, eyes hooded and smoldering. "So what has this gre'fash said about us?" She had deliberately said the last sentence in orcish, using the vilest insult she could think about. It had no direct translation in any other language Fox knew, but she knew tribal wars had been known to start over such an insult. It had something to do with sex, but as far as Fox could tell almost all orc cursing had to do with that. 'Most human cursing too,' she thought. "Shekath," the orc spat back. "Tral koran," she snapped. "Irell!" "H'sha khallka!" "P'bela!" Fox's eyes widened in shock, and her head whipped around to glare at Percy. "Show me where those pressure points are," she snarled, her eyes turning slowly back to the trussed orc. "The most instant and painful one," she added through gritted teeth. "A master of the orcish curse, I see," Percy commented. "A worthy pursuit for any young woman of quality, what?" "Very funny." She rose, resisting the urge to kick the orc in the face as she strode to where her horse was tethered. A quick check of her saddlebags confirmed nothing missing; her bow and quiver were still in place strapped to the outside. As she ran her hands over the horse's coat to confirm it wasn't injured, she said, "So what did our enchanting friend say about us?" "I'm given to understand that you're the vanguard of some invading army or other," Sir Percy replied. "Apparently these chappies have been gathering in force to raid local settlements, perhaps even Trelham itself. There's the usual orcie talk of plunder, torture, blood, and such like, but there's at least one interesting bit. The chap behind it all isn't an orc." "Some hobgoblin or similar creature, I expect," Fox muttered as she unhitched the baggage. "Well, no, actually. Thing is, no one's seen the blighter, expect for maybe one or two of the top orcie lieutenants." Fox heard Sir Percy and the captive exchange a few more words in orcish. The words took her a little by surprise, and she turned to make sure another orc hadn't come on the scene. Just listening, with her back turned, Fox would not have thought that Sir Percy was one of the two speaking. To the naked ear, two orcs were conversing. "No doubt about that," Sir Percy continued. "Our captive here says his comrades think he's human, judging by what accent they heard. Though orcie types don't usually speak even their own language very well, I daresay." "I know what he said," Fox said with minor irritation. "I don't need a translator. Human, huh? Probably thinks I'm a human, too." "Elf," the orc said, leering at her from the ground. "Wrong again, friend," Fox shot back in the creature's own tongue. "Teeth you like? Kick them out I can." She raised an eyebrow at Percy. "Your accent's good. Those gutterals rip out my throat. Know nothing about this 'human' you do?" she said back to the orc. "Saw not," the orc said only after a careful prod of Sir Percy's booted toe. "Know I don't." "You speak Shirsa, by any chance?" Fox asked Percy. "This . . . thing seems to understand a little of the local lingo." "Sorry, no." Percy shrugged. Shirsa was the language of the Dark Sidhe and was still widely spoken in Tamorin. "Valcoazan?" "Enough to haggle at the market, no more." "Chichini?" "It's not my best language," Percy said, switching easily to Chichini, with no trace of an accent. "Like to hear your worst," Fox muttered. Her native language was a variant of Chichini, and it had been some time since she had spoken it. Her rustic Lhynnish accent was still heavy, she knew, but she continued anyway. "We're not part of any invading army. Fact is, I didn't know any of these people until a half-day ago, when I helped them out of the orc hold." "Very noble of you," Percy said. He looked a bit puzzled. Fox's mouth flattened in a tight line. "I owed it to someone," was all she said about it. "It's a long story, and I really don't want to stand out here." She gathered her horse's reins in gloved hands and nodded to the orc. "Was up to me, I'd just kill him, but he's your problem." "Oh, my dear, it's absolutely no trouble at all," Sir Percy said as he drew his long dagger. He and the orc exchanged a few very brief words and then Sir Percy quickly slipped the dagger into the orc's right side. The creature actually smiled as it quickly expired. Fox was taken a bit aback. It just didn't seem like Percy to do something that, to many, would seem so cold-blooded. "That was quick," she commented. "Another trick of anatomy?" "No quicker death for them than a hard puncture to the spleen," Sir Percy responded cheerfully as he wiped the black blood from his blade. "I promised him a quick, sure trip to his maker at the outset. That's how I got him to speak so freely. And after all," Sir Percy knowingly smiled, "it's not as if they're creatures with a real soul, is it? What?" Sir Percy adjusted his hat and cape as he turned and started back the way they had come. "Hold it right there," Fox shouted back. "Just what in hell do you mean by that?" Sir Percy turned, plumes floating elegantly on the early morning breeze. "What?" he asked, genuinely surprised at her obvious anger. "That . . . what you said about him having no soul." Her finger stabbed at the orc, whose blood pumped lethargically from his side, spurred on by a rapidly failing heart. "I don't know what the hell to make of you. Were you joking, or not? Because if you weren't, we're going to have something more than words, you and I." "What I meant, Dear Lady, is that they have no spiritual principle embodied in their makeup, don't y'know," Sir Percy responded sotto voce. "There's no immaterial essence or animating principle about them. They're spawned. They aren't rational. They simply hate. They don't think or come to a decision based on their own feelings because they have none of their own, I daresay. They are creatures of another creature. In short, they have no free will. Even most animals have at least that, now don't they?" Fox scoffed softly. "I've heard similar arguments to justify the idea that I have no soul. Haven't you heard the old jokes about elves and Sidhe and such being part of a vegetarian diet? Well," she snatched the geldings reins and started to lead him toward the way they had come, "I don't find them funny." "Obviously argued by someone not familiar with his subject," Sir Percy replied. "Just because it walks about on two legs and knows how to dress itself doesn't mean it has a soul, and conversely, just because it don't, don't mean it doesn't, if you follow me. A soul is such a valuable commodity," Sir Percy smiled as he looked directly at Fox. "We must be sure its value is realised, what?" She looked at him levelly, pale eyes piercing, a small, somewhat superior smile coloring her thin lips. "Orcs have souls," she said with a degree of finality. "Not particularly sophisticated ones, but they do have souls. In fact, so do birds, dogs, cats, rabbits and hedge-hogs. They aren't as complex as other souls, and perhaps they don't exist in quite the same way as others, but they have them." Fox's smile widened. "Humans, and elves and Sidhe and all the other races of the world aren't quite as sophisticated and advanced as they would like to think." "Oh?" Sir Percy asked. "That a fact?" Clearly, he was not convinced by her statement. "And which scholar concocted that little gem?" "Not a scholar. No theory or postulation or long-winded story that just seemed to make sense at the time. There's fact and evidence, if you ask the right source." She looked away toward the rolling terrain, frowning. Her brain felt like it was screaming in her skull. "Philosophers are just looking at the wrong evidence." "Well, m'dear, if you wish to expand the definition of 'soul' to include 'alive' then you'll get no argument from me, I daresay. But for my money, it's free will and what y'do with it that counts, what? That orcie back there has no say in the matter as regards the cosmos. It kills, hurts, maims, and fouls not out of choice but because it was compelled to do so by its creator. Didn't have any say or choice at all, what? Now, folk like you and me, that's different. We can choose our own gods (or not) for all our own reasons, for good or ill, better or worse. Many even choose not to choose, though that in itself is something of a telling choice, if you follow me. And as for asking the right source, well, we could list Uncle Tom Colbeigh and all, couldn't we? Who says what's right? You? Me? No, I'm not making any sort of judement, Dear Lady, just registering an opinion, don't y'know. I've quite enough to keep track of without getting a frightful wigging, what? And I'd just hate to see anyone do anything terribly drastic and final without due consideration. But I'm sure you've no worries on that score, I daresay." Fox shook her head. "As for your belief that souls mean free will . . . well, as you said, you were just registering an opinion. Some souls are stronger than others, more complex, but the energy is there, beyond that which just makes life. I'm certainly not offering that a carrot has a soul, but it lives and grows. My definition and understanding of it comes from a source I'm not sure you'd find unless you happened to be a . . . follower of a particular school of thought. Personally, I don't fall into the free will argument. I think we'd like to believe we have free will, but we don't. At least, not as much as we'd like." Fox flashed a flat smile to Percy. "As to never doing anything drastic or final without due consideration, well, it's clear you don't know me very well yet, my friend." "But I'm _so_ looking forward to doing just that!" Sir Percy said cheerily as they disappeared over the ridge. -----------------------------1130294221147917954559816595--