Chapter 331 181. Elf Human Monkey
In this empire full of glory, stories that laugh at other people’s ignorance are very, very popular! Usually the story takes place in "the village next door" or "a friend of mine". People who tell such stories are always careful to emphasize that such things could never happen in their own villages, or to themselves. Therefore, the details of these stories vary widely, but the message they convey is always the same. No matter how bad your own situation is, at least you are not as confused as those stupid people in the stories!
The following story takes place in Nordland. Nordland is one of only two realms in the Empire that borders the raging Sea of Claws, a dangerous and unpredictable realm with many legends and stories associated with it. ——Recorder of Imperial Folk Myths and Folklore
A small village in Nordland called "Oberwiesel" is located at a narrow entrance on the coast of the Sea of Claws. Towering sea cliffs wrap around its sides like a winter's mantle, while the village itself stretches like a spider's web along the rocky slopes to the beach. Every morning, sea fog drifts into the village from the Claw Sea and passes through it, and every night, the dark streets are disturbed by the calls of seabirds and the constant plaintive sound of the wind.
The villagers in the village make a living by fishing, and of course they rely on the mountains to eat and the sea to eat. Some people say that they will light lights along the rock slope at night to guide passing ships to run aground here. When a shipwreck occurs, villagers swarm onto the broken vessel and plunder whatever they can. As for the unfortunate crew members who survived the wreckage? It's best not to dwell on their sad fate.
Such tragic man-made accidents are not uncommon in Nordland, and the Claw Sea itself contains various dangers and mysteries. The legends and superstitions surrounding this volatile sea add an aura of mystery and uncertainty to the area. However, in the village of Oberwiesel, life goes on, intertwined with the sea and its secrets, as the villagers brave the forces of nature and struggle to make a living amid the fog and the calls of seabirds.
One dusk, when the light was fading, the villagers suddenly glimpsed a ship on the horizon. After a while, they hastily lighted the lamps, and then retired to the warm tavern, drinking seasoned ale by the fire, singing and having fun. Only a few villagers heard the terrible sound, which was the sound of wood breaking, mixed with some miserable screams.
When dawn came, the fog still hung over everything as usual. As the sun grew hotter, the fog dissipated, revealing the remains of the ship.
The ship was once luxurious, and the villagers rejoiced in the exquisite cargo brought through the deceptive lights. A few villagers prayed openly to Sturmfield, while many more thanked Mannann. At first, not a single member of the crew survived, not even a body escaped from the sea. Eventually, the villagers discovered a survivor in the wreckage.
The survivor was unlike anyone the villagers had ever seen. He was short, with thick hair and unusually uncoordinated limbs. He wore baggy trousers and a garish but sophisticated vest. When he was aroused, he spoke quickly but in a deep guttural voice, almost like language?
The villagers were so surprised that no one spoke for a while.
"There is no doubt about it! This is no ordinary man. But he came by boat, and I have never seen a better boat! So this creature can only be an elf!" But one of the villagers had been to Novo before Sesonmund, the capital of the German Territory, so as the most knowledgeable person in Oberweisel, he spoke, and after speaking, he clapped to himself.
The villagers ignored the applause of the most knowledgeable man. They gasped in surprise and then began to push and scramble to get closer to the captured elf.
"Yes, yes! It must be so! We have all heard the legends of the elven ships that plundered along the shores of our homeland. They burned our towns and took our people to be slaves in some terrible place, and I think our The collision did a great thing for our Nordland!" said the villager who considers himself the boss of the village.
Some villagers started cheering and talking excitedly to their neighbors.
"We must inform the Elector and imagine how he will reward us?" said the tavern owner who ran the only tavern in Oberwiesel.
"Of course, but first let's drag this elf into the village and see if he can speak."
So the poor elf was captured immediately, and he was carried to the tavern tied up and pressed on a table. Then the villagers took turns poking him with knives, dousing him with boiling water, and beating him with sticks. Although he uttered the most pitiful wails, he did not utter a single word that the villagers could understand.
"You should go to Sessenmund to report this to the Elector. The only one here who knows the way to Sessenmond." The villager who thought he was the boss of the village looked at the most knowledgeable villager in the village and said, and saw the other person nodded. Finally, he continued, "At the same time, lock this elf in the cellar of the tavern. Obviously, he cannot speak our language, but the Elector must have someone who can speak his language.!" The next thing was very simple, The most knowledgeable villagers set out for the capital of Nordland, while the elves were kept in dank cellars beneath the tavern. But the elf refused to eat the food given to him by the villagers, and he gradually became weaker day after day.
Finally, the most knowledgeable villager returned to the village on a beautiful horse, leading a troop of cavalry in the blue and yellow uniforms of the Nord leaders.
The villagers greeted the soldiers warmly, offering food, drink, and all the hospitality of their homes.
"Kind people, we have come a long way to see this elf of yours, bring him out immediately!" said the cavalry captain.
The villagers immediately obeyed, and at this moment they could all think of the generous rewards that the Elector would bestow upon them.
The elf was soon brought out. He was almost dying, with festering wounds all over his body.
"This? Is this what you asked me to come here to see? Is this your elf?" The cavalry captain looked at the elf, and his eyes widened. The soldiers under his command either looked confused or covered their mouths and snickered. Soon his face turned cold and sharp, and he shouted harshly.
"Yes, sir." The villager who considered himself the boss in the village said, with cold sweat streaming down his forehead as he spoke.
"Manann! This is not an elf! This is a damn monkey!" The cavalryman could no longer control his anger and he roared.
In fact, these ignorant villagers mistook a monkey on the boat for a so-called elf.
The cavalry captain's anger horrified the villagers, who not only wasted his time because of their stupidity, but he also exposed the villagers' crime of destroying many ships.
The villagers in Oberwiesel who thought they were the boss, the villagers and tavern owners who thought they were the most knowledgeable were immediately hanged. Other villagers were whipped, had their houses looted, and the fishing boats they relied on for survival were sunk.
Could this be Mannon's judgment on those who live off the misfortunes of others?
As for the monkey, the captain of the cavalry brought it back to the Elector, where it remained as a pet for many years.
(End of chapter)