Chapter 52: Meeting in the town hall

Nathaniel:

Climbing the kopadu tree was absolutely nerve-racking. The branches which lead to the crown creaked under my weight. Sorix didn't have to go through this. He simply ended up as black miasma, and flew up.

Yet, the climb was worth it. For, as soon as I made it to the town hall, I noticed that almost every elf from the town has gathered in here. Givontair is behind a stand, and he is preparing to give a speech. When he sees me, he waves me over.

I part the crowd, and get on the platform.

"How bad was it?" I ask him. He sighs.

"The elves will need a new water source," Giv tells me. "Even if we clean most of the trash, the soil is still poisoned. No wonder that turtle spirit was mad. It probably felt the impure water near Amestavora."

"How are we going to convince them?" I ask. Giv takes in a deep breath.

"Stay by my side, as I make my case?" The dragon asks.

"Of course," I tell him. An elf woman comes to us, and rings a bell. The town hall is then bathed in silence. Givontair clears his throat, and begins.

"People of Amestavora, your decision to make a waste site out of the Caraurogon river resulted in an outbreak of kidney infections. The priority now, is for us to find you a new source of water. More than that, we must clean the river," Giv stops then, to give the elves a chance to work through all of this.

"You are a dragon, right? Why don't you simply burn the waste away?" A man from the crowd says. Givontair stares him down, until the man lowers his hand.

"I can assure you, that using dragon flames in a forest is not the answer," I see that Givontair is doing his best to rein in his temper. I place a hand on his shoulder. That seems to have the desired effect because Giv continues in a much calmer manner.

"What I ask of you is not something hard, or impossible," the dragon says. "All the healthy people in this town should help with the cleaning of the river."

A murmur is to be heard from the crowd. Giv clears his throat, and continues.

"You can't expect for magical cures. I know you are all hunters, but that doesn't stop you from managing to clean a river," a raised hand is his answer.

"You can cleanse the air, can't you?" I narrow my eyes at the man who spoke. Just why do these people think that Giv is the answer to all their troubles.

"The sickness spreads through the water. Because of the waste being dumped in the river, it is probably affecting other settlements," Givontair says. Yet, I can see that the elves still don't want to help. "If you don't want to help, I will contact Pope Basil with evidence of your crimes!"

A silence falls in the room.

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"What crimes?" The elven woman, who came to tell us it is time to speak, asks.

"What crimes, you ask? You are not the only ones who suffer from this! Think of all the dead animals," Givontair then takes in a deep breath. "They can spread the disease even further."

"Now, let us not be hasty," she says. Givontair glares at her.

"It is a crime to use a river for waste disposal," Giv continues. "This is a settlement of strong and capable hunters. You could have dealt with the situation of the former dumping site."

"Us, go against undead?" the runesmith who came in here with Giv asks.

"Take it from here, before I burn down this tree," Givontair's face is red, like a tomato. I get reminded, once more, that he is a dragon. One that is used to having his orders carried out without complaints.

I look at the crowd, trying to find out a way to get through to them. Finally, I settle on the guilt they should be feeling.

"Do any of you know, how many people died because of this disaster?" I ask the crowd. Most of them shake their heads. I turn towards Givontair. "Can you tell them how many perished?"

"The head nurse said that 100 died. The sickness does great damage to the body. There is more to it, than bacteria. Yet, I do believe that, once the river has been cleaned, people will improve," Givontair says. Some of the people gathered here grin at that.

"See? The dragon will fix everything," one of them has the audacity to say. Givontair snorts, and smoke comes from his nostrils. I know I have to act fast.

"The best way to combat this sickness is with antibiotics. Yet, Givontair ran out. Do you honestly believe that people won't relapse, once they begin to drink the dirty water again?" I ask the elves. "Think of your children, for crying out loud. Think of your loved ones. What is a couple of hours spent cleaning the waste? We will be able to clear the old dumping site in a couple of days. But you must all do your part."

An elderly elf comes closer to the platform, and turns around, to address the crowd.

"I have been boiling my water, ever since the mayor began dumping the trash into the river. Do you want to know what I did? I tried to get my neighbors to do the same. Yet, they refused. Now, they are dead!" The man's voice rises by the end. I can see that it is hard for him, to admit to his failure.

"We are elves, not gnomes," another elf says, and the crowd turns to stare at her as one. "We dumped that poison in the water, we must take it out!"

Apparently, all it took for the elves to march out of the meeting room, was the words of their brethren. I turn to stare at Givontair, who looks just as amazed. The runesmith claps both of us on the shoulder.

"See? We don't just wait for something to happen," he says with a grin. I want to argue with the man, for the elves did indeed wait for the situation to get out of hand. Yet, I hold my tongue. The last thing I want now, is to insult someone who is on our side. 

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