Dreams of a Simpler Time
The Border Kingdoms. A land where even children know that there may be no tomorrow. They live on the edge of the world honoring an age old pact to forever defend the realm from the Fell beasts from beyond the border. For centuries since they carved their way into the lush land and rescued it from a fate of corruption by the hands of the Fell they have kept this pact fighting beasts and creatures twisted by their very evil. Few know the why or how such things came to be, they know only that they kill whatever living being they come across, and many are frighteningly clever in their methods. Kingdoms, separated by culture and religion are united, forever, against a common enemy. One that cares naught about who you give worship to or how you live your day to day life, an enemy who holds no prejudice in the slaughter of their victims, a force that must be held back lest their ravenous hunger consume the known world of Erth. That is the purpose of the Border Kingdoms.
However not every corner of the land is wrought with strife.
One corner, close enough to be ever ready for attack, but far enough to know a little more peace than most. Lying nestled in a valley the is protected geographically by high mountains, two large lakes (called the twin lakes) and near two heavily fortified garrisons one of dwarves the other of men, is the town of Bright Water. Named so for the shining waters of the two lakes. This town, while used to far more peace than other corners of the kingdom of Galadorn, has had it’s share of strife and battle. The small, though fortified, wall around the town is evidence of that. Fertile fields are farmed in the surrounding area and to the north of it is a small evergreen forest. Care has obviously been taken not to over farm the area as the people protect and love their land. Despite being a rather large town of roughly three thousand souls it has a sense of community commonly found in large villages or smaller towns of no more than a thousand.
This O’ seeker of tales, is where our story begins.
*****
It was a beautiful spring day in Bright Water, the clouds hung soft and white in the sky, enough to compliment the light blue and still keep the day cheerful, it was a perfect day for the first day of Springfest. In a small tree in the park sat a very slight not even not even reaching five feet in height. Cradled in a branch that would snap under the weight of a normal man he sat content in his moments as he played a pleasant melody upon a flute. While his frame was slight muscles wove about his body like tight cords of rope and his balance upon that small branch was such he could sleep without fear of falling if he so chose.
In contrast to the small man in the tree was a towering man resting against the pine below the former, this man worked a wooden carving with a sharp dagger and practiced skill, his muscle bound torso and powerful arms working with surprising agility on the figurine. Long brown hair descended past his shoulders and from them the pointed tips of two ears stuck out betraying the mans heritage. Rare were elves and thus rarer still were the half elven, despite that, the most one such as he would receive would be a child’s stare of wonder at such a large person.
The two worked in silence for considerable time as they had for quite some time already, the man letting the music guide his hand to fashion a figure of a lovely young maiden dancing to a tune very similar to the peaceful melody played above, the first day of Springfest was always mellow and the
celebration light. The pair resembled no greater a symbol of such a day. Working in a unison of ones who had known one another for a long time, those who knew the two knew they weren’t exactly friends, still they held a familiarity quite common in the town.
Eventually, as the hours flowed through the morning and slipped past noon and into the afternoon, the music stopped and the small man jumped down from his perch. Had he had more meat on his bones than muscles he may have resembled a very tall halfling. He looked to the man still carving and nodded a silent farewell before turning and walking off.
“Good day Nym.” the half elf said keeping his attention on his carving as he was near completion and after a few adjustments picked up a piece of sand paper that had been lying next to him and began smoothing the dancing woman out.
Nym found his way to the tavern, officially named “The Foaming Mug” it was the oldest establishment of it’s kind in Brightwater, now it;s name was so synonymous with drinking that folks merely called it “The Tavern”. Despite it being a prominent part of the towns history the tavern made it’s living on a relatively small number of loyal and regular customers, while other taverns comming along appealed to their clientelle either the rich of the young, The Tavern had a steady flow of those wishing for simpler things. A tad seedier than most of the other establishments it often found use for the bouncers Olaf hired to keep order.
Nym found the one he sought and approached the bar where the rather tall man sat, while an inch taller than the one he had left he was certainly not a larger man by any means, his form more limber and some might say lanky. The tall man noticed Nym climbing onto the barstool and reached down to hoist the slight one up the rest of the way much to his chagrin.
“Ah Nym How fare ye?” asked the man in a cheerful and somewhat loud voice, he had a mug cradled before him so perhaps the spirits had loosened him up a little.
Scowling at being lifted, something that would have been met with pain had it not been a ‘friend’ doing it, Nym spoke in his soft and withdrawn voice “I’m fine Darrick.”
Darrick smiled and nodded seeming to not notice Nym’s displeasure, they were the oddest of pairs, contrasting in many ways. One a runt the other surprisingly tall, one soft spoken and private while the other was loud and boisterous, however they both had their haunted pasts and both were typically loners. Outcasts and the like had the strangest method of seeking solace in one anothers company if only to have someone to be near. These two were such, though they were welcome as members of the community there was always something separating them from the others.
“Well, that is good, have a drink with me.” he snapped his fingers to catch Olaf’s attention “Olaf, another ale for me and one for Nym here ” Caught slightly unawares by the speed in which Olaf managed to have a full mug slid down the smooth bar with practiced ease he found the mug in hand before he could speak up in protest. Sighing he decided to humor his friend, for lack of a better word, and cradled his mug while the man talked about how hunting was particularly good this spring and how last seasons poachers seemed to have been truly scared away and various other aspects of life. To all these Nym would nod, occasionally give a small answer here or there, all in an almost ritualistic fashion as was tradition between the two.
Shortly after Nym had left the half elf at that tree the man finished sanding his carving and nodded to himself in satisfaction. He stood up and stretched his large muscular frame before swinging the great two handed sword on his shoulders and heading off. He eventually came to a small building with all sorts of odds and ends in the window, everything from the occasional antique but well made weapon to crafts and toys were displayed in a orderly and at the same time haphazard fashion, looking into the window at a few display carvings he has done. A sign hanging above the door was painted in lavish red and green, probably because the stores best business was during solstice, and proclaimed the establishment to be “Tinkletoes Antiques and Toys” with a small smile he entered the establishment.
The inside could only be described as ordered chaos, everything had it’s place, and one who had been in the store before knew as much, but at the same time it almost seemed like things had been pushed aside to make room for walking and for no other reason. Directly ahead of the door a seemingly elderly man sat over a large leger mumbling to himself as he scribbled in the book with a quill pen. “Ah, Tear, thought ye’d wait ‘til your winter years before ye’d come by with another of ye’r quaint carvings.” the man said emphasizing his sentence with a loud period in his leger followed swiftly by the pen returning to it’s holder. The elderly man looked up at the half-elf and looked at him through spectacles over an abnormally large nose.
Tear lifted a brow and shook his head “Quaint Todd? Seems you’ve sold more than a couple of my quaint carvings,” he said motioning to the shelf still empty from where the last trader or well off family had purchased a few of his other works. “I should up the price a silver for the insult.”
The man scoffed as he dusted the completed page with fine sand, he carefully blew the sand off the page and nodded to himself when he was satisfied that said page was dry. “Can’t account for my customers bad taste.” He said almost half serious. Tear had never been quite able to grasp the gnomes sense of humor and whether he was joking now or not he lacked the social intuition to discern. Still, he was used to the crusty old gnomes quirks, which was good as he accounted for a third of the bouncers income during the summer months, half during the winter holidays.
The gnome disappeared from behind the desk as he climbed down from his chair and came out revealing his true height to be shorter than even Nym. “Well now, let’s see what ye’ve got.” he says dusting his hands off on his vest.
Tear handed the figurine to the gnome who promptly proceeded to give it far more inspection than was needed. He’d mutter here and ‘mmhmm’ there at some fabricated flaw in the carving and Tear would simply wait patiently used to the little game. Finally Todd handed it back with a harumph “Two silver is about all I can part with.”
Tear stammered “What? Surely you’ve a better eye than that, or are your glasses fogged old man? Surely you can see it’s worth eight silver at the least.” another game, one the half-elf only found amusing with the Gnome, other traders he lacked the patience to deal with.
“Aye aye, that be so, alas my rheumatism has been kicking in these past few years and the apothacary’s prices are positively outlandish ” He said in an over dramatic tone three silver, “maybe I’ll throw in a few copper pennies for your time.”
Tear shook his head “no you don’t you thief, I noticed Aaron happens to have herbs for sale in bulk, enough to last you til next spring, seven silver.” the large half-elf returned.
Todd gave the brute a glare and scoffed “Aye, but I’ll be needing extra, plan on fishing for my supper some this summer, a strain on the old bones.” he said snatching the carving from Tears hands, or at least trying to “seeing as the fishermen have upped their prices this year.”
Tear had a hard time arguing with that, fishing had been limited this season due to the danger of over doing it, the lakes held plenty of fish in good times but not an unlimited supply, last year the fisher’s guild had gotten a little over zealous. The town council had to instigate a cap for the next couple seasons to give the fish some time to multiply. Such were politics and economics in a town that started as two fishing villages.
Tear paused and chuckled “You’re right, fishing prices have gone up, sadly I don’t quite know how to fish so unlike yourself, I’ll actually have to buy mine.” he said, a blatant lie, but the game was just that. He already guessed where Todd planned on settling.
The gnome harumphed and finally lept up and snatched the carving out of Tears hands as though reexamining it. “That’s horse dung and ye know it.” Todd mumbled under his breath making sure Tear heard every word. “Five silver, and ye have to fix it up pretty, and share a catch some day.” steeper than he thought, but fair enough.
“Fine Todd, fine, five silver and when next I go fishing I’ll bring you a trout or two.” the coins were exchanged, much to the gnomes grumbling, and Tear left with the carving. He would fix it up and paint it that evening after the tavern was closed. For now, he had time before evenfest, on a beautiful day such as this Olaf would likely set up a stand in the park with a canopy for dancing around the stage. Until then Tear figured he could get a few drinks in.
It was merely the afternoon and the Tavern had yet to fill, nor would it for soon it would be locked up and everything would be hauled to the park for the spring celebration. Tear had entered and sat down next to Nym and Darrick ordering himself an ale as heturned to face the two and interweave himself into the largely one sided conversation. The light conversation was interrupted when Olaf arrived speaking quite loudly “Alright you louts, move it on outside to th’ park, this bar is closing for th’ night, Springfest is about to begin.” With that the few patrons grumbled at the interruption as everyone got up and left the dim comfort of the bar.
Outside the night was quite beautiful, stars were visible in the sky as well as a good half moon, the three acquaintances made their way to the part where a large canopy tent had been set up in a clearing around a small stage where a band was tuning fiddles and tightening drums. A semi-portable bar had been set up, something crafted a while back when the Tavern was owned by a Dwarven carpenter. It was difficult to move but only had to be used during the summer and spring and particularly warm fall festival days. Lamps were being hung in the surrounding trees and outside the tent.
The three resumed their places at the bar Nym making sure he didn’t receive help climbing onto his stool and soon Ales were handed out with a simple mug of milk for Nym. Tear, approaching the time his shift as bouncer would start kept an eye on those who were drinking already and noting a few who seemed to be starting down the path of excess, he was merciless at his trade and these looks caused Nym to frown as many men had limped their way to his doorstep after a thrashing from Tear. Often ruining a patch in his garden in the process. Soon Nym’s attention was pulled, along with the others, towards a figure entering the out door incarnation of the Tavern.
Her complexion was the olive tone common to the south, possibly Ishtaran, however some foreign blood invaded her heritage for her eyes were a brilliant green uncommon to the south. Long brown hair was another common trait particular to those of the Great Nation of Ishtar. Her clothes were well used and patched together in some places and she walked with a dancers grace as silver bracelets, the only thing of substantial wealth upon her person, chimed small notes as she approached the bar taking a seat not too far from Darrick. She was obviously a rather withdrawn sort, though her’s was more a defensive demeanor of a stranger in a new place, most polite men would ignore such while brazen men might leer, however Darrick was in particularly good spirits and did neither.
“Greetings.” he said in his typically jovial manner his tongue loosened a little by drink though not nearly enough to slur his speech, it merely made him friendlier. “You’re new hereabouts aren’t you? I’m Darrick,” he said to the woman who was slightly bewildered by such friendly fellow. Typically the tall man would avoid conversation with others, the exception to this was other relative outsiders like himself and Nym, and those who suddenly found themselves alone after the last Fell raids claimed loved ones.
Darrick motioned to Nym who seemed to try to shrink from notice “this is Nym,” he said to which the slight man returned a greeting before going back to his drink “and this is Tear.” he said motioning to the half-elf who grunted a greeting and eyed the woman’s silver bracelets suspiciously.
The woman smiled and nodded to each in turn “Is it so obvious that I’m a foreigner?” he said in a lightly accented voice, it seemed the voice of one who had traveled for most of their lives and settled only long enough to pick up a quirk or two from one land before moving on to the next.
Darrick laughed and promptly nodded “Aye, that it is, while we have some variety of people here in Bright Water the town is such that we can at least recognize a locals face, and I must say miss one such as you would stick out in a locals memory.”
She laughed lightly and nodded as she ordered an Ale “Well met then, I am Kalani Onuahu, you’ve a rather lovely town here.” she said taking a drink from her mug as the band began to strike up a tune, lively but still relatively low key.
Darrick spoke up then “Onuahu? That’s an Ishtaran name, what brings you up here?” he said his voice not entirely friendly.
Kalani looked at the large half-elf for a moment before answering “Gaians aren’t entirely welcome in Ishtar, so I came up north in attempts to find greener pastures.” Darrick grunted and took another swig from his ale.
“Surely there’s Gaian friendly towns and villages and even cities further south than the Border Kingdoms.” he said with a dismissive grunt clearly not liking her answer.
She nodded as Darrick frowned slightly at his companions barely concealed hostility toward the newcomer. “True, but I like to keep moving.”she said simply.
Tear spat onto the dirt beneath him “Bah, might as well say you’re a gypsy and a thief.” he said before standing and moving off to get a better lay of the steadily forming crowd that had begun to eat and drink and enjoy the music.
Darrick scowled after the brutes back and turned to Kalani “My apologies for Tear, he’s not exactly the most social person...” he said.
“Quite allright, I’m used to it to some degree.” she replied and the two began a conversation that was much less one sided than the one he had had with Nym.
The festivities continued into the night and soon after most had eaten their meals dancing began around the stage of musicians, dancing of the lively sort. Nym sat at the bar watching everyone his milk finished a short while prior and he was considering leaving when he heard a deep and loud voice “Nym!” his head snapped up and he noticed the large Eric Borland, captain of the town’s militia and apparently already a little tipsy. “What are you doing being a wall flower there, get off that barstool and dance!”
Nym frowned and didn’t like where this was going “No sir, I’d rather not.” he said simply.
Eric scoffed and the large barrel chested man promptly snatched up the slight fellow and stuck him in one of the circles of dancers. An outer circle had patrons moving in one direction to the music while an inner rotated in the opposite. Soon the townsfolk began trading partners and Nym found himself snatched up by someone, he couldn’t quite make out who before he was released again. He caught sight of Eric not looking in his direction and promptly hid himself among the dancing people and discreetly made his way back to the bar now content with leaning against a post and watching keeping an eye out for the jovial militia captain. He spotted him again however this was as the captain was leaving... probably to make rounds.
Drink started to flow and the music started to get ever more lively and soon a lout who had a little too much ale in his blood stumbled into Darrick where he now leaned against the bar. The man crawled up the woodsman before trying to return to the dance floor. He soon found shoved into another man by a frowning Darrick who immediately realized the consequences of such an action. Such a thing was all that was needed to begin a bar fight.
The man who the drunk was thrown into bumped into another man who had been trying to romance one of the barmaids. Said man promptly decked the first and soon people were fist fighting all about the place. The bar fight began in earnest.
Kalani promptly dodged and wove herself through the crowd to the outskirts and watched patiently, when one fellow was laid out flat, unconscious by a powerful blow from one of the larger townsfolk. Ever the opportunist she deftly moved in and cut his purse strings with a satisfied smirk. The smirk disappeared when a townsman took a swing at her, she promptly kicked his shin and dodged away returning to the outskirts to watch.
Nym frowned, a fight like this didn’t mean a busy day for him, thankfully a good nights rest and maybe a few herbs would heal the wounds gathered here. Still, such needless violence annoyed him, people didn’t take care of themselves enough. One patron tried to attack the smaller man figuring he was easy picking and discovered that such a small fist in the gut brought a sharper pain than that of a larger one. When the man recovered from the blow he promptly sought to leave the brawl.
Tear was getting into the thick of things and soon picked up a chair, Nym frowned, the man was more than capable of clobbering a few drunks and stopping the fight with simple fists as everyone else was using, however he brought the chair down on some poor sods head knocking the man senseless. The Naer Dess cursed his luck as he noticed a small trail of blood and imagined the man had a minor concussion at least. He swiftly shoved a patron aside with surprising strength and grabbed the mans ankle pulling him back away from the thick of the fight. He discovered it was clear he wouldn’t be able to tend to him right away so the best he could do was keep people from trampling the unfortunate. The fight began in earnest then, knives and daggers came out, a few chairs were smashed into makeshift clubs. This was the type of brawl that would make tomorrow a busy day.
Two decided to gang up on Nym, they were obviously a little more drunk than the average patron, and they had better be, attacking a Naer Dess was a social taboo in most places. Still he glowered at the two as they came at him, one with a chair leg club another with a dagger. Both missed and barely managed to avoid hurting one another as well. Nym focused and waited for an opening dodging another clumsy blow before snapping his fist into the other mans gut doubling him over. He fell to the ground and emptied his stomach the fight clearly gone from him.
The other man growled and lunged forward with the dagger, Nym caught his arm and pulled bringing two stiff fingers up under his armpit, the man let out a moan of pain and the Naer Dess promptly swept his legs out from under him. “Sometimes the best remedy for sickness is a severe beating.” He said to the two prone men.
Darrick was having a hard time of his own. When weapons had been brandished he had pulled his, but like the less inebriated patrons he only used the pommel, still, he couldn’t seem to land a blow on the man who tried to attack him. It looked like Koren, the Wheelwrights son, a large chap who was thankfully about as skilled with his fists as Darrick and missed almost as much... almost. The woodsman felt a fist connect with his face and fought back dizziness as he struggled to defend the next blow. He landed one himself to the mans stomach though he had been ready for it and thus felt like hitting a wall.
Tear was still knocking people senseless, thankfully he seemed to be a little more careful now, giving one good whack with the club followed by one with the fist. His victims would live but would be hurting in the morning and likely looking to go to an herbalist or Nym. Still, the fighting around him seemed to be abating a little as people discovered it was a bad idea to assault the barbaric half breed. Soon a loud shout was heard and Nym looked up to see Eric had returned and was promptly ripping tent posts from the ground. Soon the fighting stopped as the tent fell atop the brawling peoples who, thankfully, weren’t foolish enough to flail about blindly.
The night’s festivities clearly at an end everyone began to make their way home and Nym began tending to what wounded he could figuring he best get a head start before the next day. Olaf was berating Tear for such a reckless behavior. Kalani had walked away unscathed and a few purses richer while Darrick decided to go home and sleep off his bruised and intoxicated body. All in all another night in Bright Water, if a little more interesting than most. Such a pity such relative peace would soon change.
