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Maissen: Shades of Grey [UPDATE 12/12, post 199]
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<blockquote data-quote="Beale Knight" data-source="post: 1789087" data-attributes="member: 7033"><p><strong>01 – 2 Exposition and Ceremony</strong></p><p></p><p>The next morning the team met up at the Ale’s Well. Ren was the first to arrive. Not only was he used to getting up early, but he was anxious to get out of the house. His family did not take well his announcement; there was much hand wringing and gnashing of teeth and attempts to talk him out of it. It was a long night. Ren remained resolute and they all calmed down, but none of them were happy. They were sure his death was immanent. </p><p></p><p>Bessie arrived just minutes later, followed by Killian. Madge arrived well behind the others, and she was a sight.</p><p></p><p>She wasn’t wearing the face shielding robes she had the night before. The others had heard the rumors, everyone in town had, but seeing her scarred and pitted face was jarring. Madge could tell what they were thinking. </p><p></p><p>“If I am to be a Hero of Maissen, I will no longer hide my face,” she said. “The people will have to see that heroes may come in any form.”</p><p>The others nodded, but it was Killian that spoke up first. “Aye, lass. That they do. All kinds of forms.” He had a odd grin when he said it, but didn’t elaborate. “Who to first then?”</p><p></p><p></p><p>First was Crowin the brewer and proprietor of the illustrious Feathered Prow inn. He had arraigned with Papa Thorson to put the new team of heroes up in his inn for the three days before they left. What he wanted was straightforward enough. </p><p></p><p>“Ale,” he said. “One pint of dwarven ale. I’ve tasted it once, when I was a hero of Maissen and I have long wanted a pint of it so I could discover its secrets. Do this for me and not only will I pay you handsomely, but I will also host each of you, and your families, at my inn and taverns for free for ever.”</p><p>Corwin went on to tell the group what he could about the dwarves, primarily assuring them that they were, indeed, real. They made their home in Ghost Dragon Mountain, which lay beyond the valley of Drayne, which itself was beyond a forest on the other side of a narrow rift valley. </p><p></p><p></p><p>“That all sounds too fantastic to believe,” Lela said. </p><p></p><p>She was sitting across from Ren at a prominent table at the Feathered Prow. The hunter had wasted no time in indulging his new standing. If he was going to be treated to a few days at this grand establishment, he wanted to share as much of it with Lela as he could. </p><p></p><p>“That’s what I thought, too,” he said. “But there’s no reason to think what he said was anything but the truth.”</p><p></p><p>Lela shook her head, more in amazement than disbelief. “Real dwarves,” she said. “What did the others want?”</p><p></p><p>“Shayder wants to make some kind of special ‘coche’ biscuit,” Ren answered. The man he referred to was Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s wealthiest ship owner, with a fleet of more than a dozen fishing vessels. “To make it he needs a special kind of honey made by giant bees.”</p><p></p><p>Across the table, Lela laughed. “<em>Giant</em> bees.”</p><p></p><p>Ren laughed too. “I know, it sounds ridiculous. But he said there’s a rift valley up to the northwest that’s home to hive of bees as big as cats. He gave us a container to fill and warned us not to eat any or we’ll never want to do anything else.”</p><p></p><p>“That must be some good honey.”</p><p></p><p>“There’s a race of beast men that have fallen prey to it,” Ren said. “Furry things called kerbals. He has the pelt of one on his wall. Said it killed three men before Youst the paladin finally did it in.”</p><p></p><p>Worry formed on Lela’s face. Ren reached across the table and took her hands. “I plan to avoid them,” he said. “Or at least shoot from a safe distance.”</p><p></p><p>Lela just looked into his eyes for a long moment. At last she said, “You’ll come back, right? Please say you’ll make it back.”</p><p></p><p>Ren smiled despite his own concerns. He’d hunted too often to not know that any venture into the wild might be the last. Going out beyond the borders of Maissen was certainly going to be even more dangerous. Lela was as right to be worried as his family was. But there was no sense adding to it.</p><p></p><p>“I have to come back,” he said. “I’ve got High Priest Petris’ box.”</p><p></p><p>Lela blinked. </p><p></p><p>Ren took the opportunity to steer her away from worry. “He wants us to get some special rocks from a valley off northwest. They come in different colors and have some kind of magic in them that he can use to create stone walls out of nothing. But the different colors can’t touch each other, so he gave us a box built to hold them separate from each other.</p><p></p><p>“And I imagine he’d be…” Ren straightened bolt upright and made an exaggerated frown, sticking his lip out as far as he could, “Most! - Put! - Out! If that box comes to harm.” </p><p></p><p>Lela laughed and Ren joined in, happy he changed her mood, even though it meant replaying the team’s meeting with Petris. It had left a sour taste in his mouth. The old man was more pompous than pious, invoking the gods’ names and an obligation of duty more to pressure and guilt the team into doing what he wanted than to inspire them. And unlike the other two requesting favors from the new heroes, Petris offered nothing in exchange for the errand, and seemed offended when the issue came up. Only with Ren’s badgering did he agree to use the magic to construct better housing for Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s poor – once the town’s defensive wall was complete. And Bessie had to turn the guilt back onto him to squeeze the priest for a few scrolls of healing.</p><p></p><p>Their laughter ebbed and the couple smiled at each other. Then Lela turned somber again. “Just two more days,” she said.</p><p></p><p>“We’ll make the most of them,” Ren said. He waved one hand to sweep her attention to the grandeur of the Feathered Prow’s central hall. “In the finest inn around.”</p><p></p><p></p><p>The two days passed in a blur. Ren tripled checked his supplies, and was measured for proper armor. Popa Thorson was following through on his promise to outfit his team the finest equipment. Ren asked for top quality leather armor, the metal stuff was too hard to move quietly in, and master crafted spears and arrows. His short bow wasn’t the finest quality, but it was the one he’d learned to shoot with and it didn’t feel right to leave it behind. Armor and weapons, Popa Thorson assured him, would be waiting when they arrived in Maissen the city.</p><p></p><p>Madge and Bessie saw to getting the team a goat and wagon. A mule would have been better, a horse even more so, but such animals were so rare in Maissen that their price was even beyond Papa Thorson’s resources. The goat (named Jimmy by Bessie for some reason) would serve well enough though. If the team was going to be venturing into valleys, nimble feet would be needed.</p><p></p><p>Though he never gave his concern voice, Ren prepared for the worst by writing directions to where he’d hidden his stash of gold. He sealed the letter and gave to Popa Thorson to pass to Lela. In the event he didn’t return alive, Ren wanted her taken care of. </p><p></p><p>Despite his new status as Hero of Maissen, Ren still wasn’t getting the approval of Lela’s father. Indeed, Goodman Needleset’s opinion of Popa Thorson seemed to plunge simply because he’d chosen Ren to be on his team. This didn’t bother Ren in the least. Not only did it make Lela’s father look foolish, but it also gave Ren all the more reason to make it home alive and successful. </p><p></p><p>At last the day of the group’s departure arrived. Ren joined Bessie, who brought her pet owl along (“He isn’t a pet,” she said, “he’s a companion.”), Killian, and Madge, face fully exposed, on a stage in Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s central square at mid-morning. There they were subjected to more blessings and praise than they had ever known. They were showered with flower petals and perfumes, enveloped in the smoke of expensive incenses, draped with fine oils, and sprinkled with holy water. </p><p></p><p>Then began the speeches. The chair of Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s council spoke first, explaining just what the team would be doing, what it meant to the town, and how it was part of the grand old traditions of Maissen. He took three times as long as needed, and used words most in the crowd probably didn’t know to do it, but everyone cheered anyway. </p><p></p><p>Popa Thorson was next. He thanked the council for the opportunity, diplomatically skipping the fact he’d been given less than a month to do what the two other chosen leaders had been given a year to do. Thorson named each of the Heroes on his team and explained their strengths and how well they could work as a team, despite that they didn’t look like the usual type of Heroes. That was in fact, he said, their greatest strength.</p><p></p><p>Once his speech was finished, Popa Thorson was followed by an endless stream of dignitaries. Each one seemed determined to out speechify the others. </p><p></p><p>Beside Ren, Killian soon began to squirm in his seat. “This has already passed too much,” he whispered.</p><p></p><p>Ren nodded. “I hope the speeches don’t count against our ninety days. There’s no way we’d make it back in time.”</p><p></p><p>“I never knew we had so many so many very important people in Vaunth-on-the-Lake,” Bessie said. “Perhaps they should move the capitol here.”</p><p></p><p>The three of them chuckled at the druid’s joke, but Madge only grumbled. “These people live and die on prestige like we do meat and water. It doesn’t matter they have nothing to say, they’re deathly afraid if they say nothing they won’t truly be real.”</p><p></p><p>Killian nodded. “Aye. The elders always said a wise man speaks because he has something to say and a fool speaks because he has to say something.”</p><p>Ren and Bessie looked at the sorcerer then at each other. He didn’t know about Bessie, but Ren had never heard that particular turn of phrase – but it sounded wise and true enough. </p><p></p><p>Fools or wise men, there were still plenty of people lined up to speak. Ren let his attention drift. He started watching the crowd, and most of them had quit paying close attention to the speakers as well. Ren easily picked out his family, standing together as their own knot in the crowd. He saw Lela, standing with the rest of Popa Thorson’s servants (even Shonder) and he smiled. Though too far away to tell if she were watching him of not, Ren drank in the sight of her. It would have to sustain him for many weeks to come. </p><p></p><p>At last, after the sun had peaked, the last speaker finished. The newest Heroes were directed to stand and make their way to the street. There, waiting to ceremoniously guide them out of town, was Vinne – paladin of Simus the Uncaring. More impressive than the holy warrior in his gleaming armor was his steed. Vinne owned one of the very few horses in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, and his was easily the most impressive of them all. </p><p></p><p>Ren, Bessie, Killian, and Madge were the centerpiece of an elaborate procession through the town’s main streets and then finally out the north gate. The crowd, they couldn’t help but notice, grew thinner with nearly every step. By the time they were outside the gate and Vinne had bidden them farewell, there were only a handful of towns folk still watching. </p><p></p><p>“Well,” Killian said, “we’re off.”</p><p></p><p>[continues on post #11]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Beale Knight, post: 1789087, member: 7033"] [b]01 – 2 Exposition and Ceremony[/b] The next morning the team met up at the Ale’s Well. Ren was the first to arrive. Not only was he used to getting up early, but he was anxious to get out of the house. His family did not take well his announcement; there was much hand wringing and gnashing of teeth and attempts to talk him out of it. It was a long night. Ren remained resolute and they all calmed down, but none of them were happy. They were sure his death was immanent. Bessie arrived just minutes later, followed by Killian. Madge arrived well behind the others, and she was a sight. She wasn’t wearing the face shielding robes she had the night before. The others had heard the rumors, everyone in town had, but seeing her scarred and pitted face was jarring. Madge could tell what they were thinking. “If I am to be a Hero of Maissen, I will no longer hide my face,” she said. “The people will have to see that heroes may come in any form.” The others nodded, but it was Killian that spoke up first. “Aye, lass. That they do. All kinds of forms.” He had a odd grin when he said it, but didn’t elaborate. “Who to first then?” First was Crowin the brewer and proprietor of the illustrious Feathered Prow inn. He had arraigned with Papa Thorson to put the new team of heroes up in his inn for the three days before they left. What he wanted was straightforward enough. “Ale,” he said. “One pint of dwarven ale. I’ve tasted it once, when I was a hero of Maissen and I have long wanted a pint of it so I could discover its secrets. Do this for me and not only will I pay you handsomely, but I will also host each of you, and your families, at my inn and taverns for free for ever.” Corwin went on to tell the group what he could about the dwarves, primarily assuring them that they were, indeed, real. They made their home in Ghost Dragon Mountain, which lay beyond the valley of Drayne, which itself was beyond a forest on the other side of a narrow rift valley. “That all sounds too fantastic to believe,” Lela said. She was sitting across from Ren at a prominent table at the Feathered Prow. The hunter had wasted no time in indulging his new standing. If he was going to be treated to a few days at this grand establishment, he wanted to share as much of it with Lela as he could. “That’s what I thought, too,” he said. “But there’s no reason to think what he said was anything but the truth.” Lela shook her head, more in amazement than disbelief. “Real dwarves,” she said. “What did the others want?” “Shayder wants to make some kind of special ‘coche’ biscuit,” Ren answered. The man he referred to was Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s wealthiest ship owner, with a fleet of more than a dozen fishing vessels. “To make it he needs a special kind of honey made by giant bees.” Across the table, Lela laughed. “[I]Giant[/I] bees.” Ren laughed too. “I know, it sounds ridiculous. But he said there’s a rift valley up to the northwest that’s home to hive of bees as big as cats. He gave us a container to fill and warned us not to eat any or we’ll never want to do anything else.” “That must be some good honey.” “There’s a race of beast men that have fallen prey to it,” Ren said. “Furry things called kerbals. He has the pelt of one on his wall. Said it killed three men before Youst the paladin finally did it in.” Worry formed on Lela’s face. Ren reached across the table and took her hands. “I plan to avoid them,” he said. “Or at least shoot from a safe distance.” Lela just looked into his eyes for a long moment. At last she said, “You’ll come back, right? Please say you’ll make it back.” Ren smiled despite his own concerns. He’d hunted too often to not know that any venture into the wild might be the last. Going out beyond the borders of Maissen was certainly going to be even more dangerous. Lela was as right to be worried as his family was. But there was no sense adding to it. “I have to come back,” he said. “I’ve got High Priest Petris’ box.” Lela blinked. Ren took the opportunity to steer her away from worry. “He wants us to get some special rocks from a valley off northwest. They come in different colors and have some kind of magic in them that he can use to create stone walls out of nothing. But the different colors can’t touch each other, so he gave us a box built to hold them separate from each other. “And I imagine he’d be…” Ren straightened bolt upright and made an exaggerated frown, sticking his lip out as far as he could, “Most! - Put! - Out! If that box comes to harm.” Lela laughed and Ren joined in, happy he changed her mood, even though it meant replaying the team’s meeting with Petris. It had left a sour taste in his mouth. The old man was more pompous than pious, invoking the gods’ names and an obligation of duty more to pressure and guilt the team into doing what he wanted than to inspire them. And unlike the other two requesting favors from the new heroes, Petris offered nothing in exchange for the errand, and seemed offended when the issue came up. Only with Ren’s badgering did he agree to use the magic to construct better housing for Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s poor – once the town’s defensive wall was complete. And Bessie had to turn the guilt back onto him to squeeze the priest for a few scrolls of healing. Their laughter ebbed and the couple smiled at each other. Then Lela turned somber again. “Just two more days,” she said. “We’ll make the most of them,” Ren said. He waved one hand to sweep her attention to the grandeur of the Feathered Prow’s central hall. “In the finest inn around.” The two days passed in a blur. Ren tripled checked his supplies, and was measured for proper armor. Popa Thorson was following through on his promise to outfit his team the finest equipment. Ren asked for top quality leather armor, the metal stuff was too hard to move quietly in, and master crafted spears and arrows. His short bow wasn’t the finest quality, but it was the one he’d learned to shoot with and it didn’t feel right to leave it behind. Armor and weapons, Popa Thorson assured him, would be waiting when they arrived in Maissen the city. Madge and Bessie saw to getting the team a goat and wagon. A mule would have been better, a horse even more so, but such animals were so rare in Maissen that their price was even beyond Papa Thorson’s resources. The goat (named Jimmy by Bessie for some reason) would serve well enough though. If the team was going to be venturing into valleys, nimble feet would be needed. Though he never gave his concern voice, Ren prepared for the worst by writing directions to where he’d hidden his stash of gold. He sealed the letter and gave to Popa Thorson to pass to Lela. In the event he didn’t return alive, Ren wanted her taken care of. Despite his new status as Hero of Maissen, Ren still wasn’t getting the approval of Lela’s father. Indeed, Goodman Needleset’s opinion of Popa Thorson seemed to plunge simply because he’d chosen Ren to be on his team. This didn’t bother Ren in the least. Not only did it make Lela’s father look foolish, but it also gave Ren all the more reason to make it home alive and successful. At last the day of the group’s departure arrived. Ren joined Bessie, who brought her pet owl along (“He isn’t a pet,” she said, “he’s a companion.”), Killian, and Madge, face fully exposed, on a stage in Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s central square at mid-morning. There they were subjected to more blessings and praise than they had ever known. They were showered with flower petals and perfumes, enveloped in the smoke of expensive incenses, draped with fine oils, and sprinkled with holy water. Then began the speeches. The chair of Vaunth-on-the-Lake’s council spoke first, explaining just what the team would be doing, what it meant to the town, and how it was part of the grand old traditions of Maissen. He took three times as long as needed, and used words most in the crowd probably didn’t know to do it, but everyone cheered anyway. Popa Thorson was next. He thanked the council for the opportunity, diplomatically skipping the fact he’d been given less than a month to do what the two other chosen leaders had been given a year to do. Thorson named each of the Heroes on his team and explained their strengths and how well they could work as a team, despite that they didn’t look like the usual type of Heroes. That was in fact, he said, their greatest strength. Once his speech was finished, Popa Thorson was followed by an endless stream of dignitaries. Each one seemed determined to out speechify the others. Beside Ren, Killian soon began to squirm in his seat. “This has already passed too much,” he whispered. Ren nodded. “I hope the speeches don’t count against our ninety days. There’s no way we’d make it back in time.” “I never knew we had so many so many very important people in Vaunth-on-the-Lake,” Bessie said. “Perhaps they should move the capitol here.” The three of them chuckled at the druid’s joke, but Madge only grumbled. “These people live and die on prestige like we do meat and water. It doesn’t matter they have nothing to say, they’re deathly afraid if they say nothing they won’t truly be real.” Killian nodded. “Aye. The elders always said a wise man speaks because he has something to say and a fool speaks because he has to say something.” Ren and Bessie looked at the sorcerer then at each other. He didn’t know about Bessie, but Ren had never heard that particular turn of phrase – but it sounded wise and true enough. Fools or wise men, there were still plenty of people lined up to speak. Ren let his attention drift. He started watching the crowd, and most of them had quit paying close attention to the speakers as well. Ren easily picked out his family, standing together as their own knot in the crowd. He saw Lela, standing with the rest of Popa Thorson’s servants (even Shonder) and he smiled. Though too far away to tell if she were watching him of not, Ren drank in the sight of her. It would have to sustain him for many weeks to come. At last, after the sun had peaked, the last speaker finished. The newest Heroes were directed to stand and make their way to the street. There, waiting to ceremoniously guide them out of town, was Vinne – paladin of Simus the Uncaring. More impressive than the holy warrior in his gleaming armor was his steed. Vinne owned one of the very few horses in Vaunth-on-the-Lake, and his was easily the most impressive of them all. Ren, Bessie, Killian, and Madge were the centerpiece of an elaborate procession through the town’s main streets and then finally out the north gate. The crowd, they couldn’t help but notice, grew thinner with nearly every step. By the time they were outside the gate and Vinne had bidden them farewell, there were only a handful of towns folk still watching. “Well,” Killian said, “we’re off.” [continues on post #11] [/QUOTE]
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