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Message: <blockquote data-quote="peteyfrogboy" data-source="post: 1189771" data-attributes="member: 5677">Ever EastwardSeraphim looked down at the town with an expression of distaste. "This is it?" From the top of the hill they could see the whole of Travatti, and there wasn't much to it. The largest buildings in sight were barns; Travatti was primarily an agricultural market town."What were you expecting?" asked Parika. "There's not exactly going to be a bustling metropolis out here in the sticks.""Yeah, I know, but it's St. Hurin's Day."Parika blinked, then mentally counted the days since they'd left Freeport. "Blast it, you're right." She joined the halfling in her sour mood. "Maybe we can get a good deal on a cow."The traditional celebration of St. Hurin's Day, the patron saint of commerce, is the suspension of all fixed prices. Every sale must be negotiated, and most often the final price favors the buyer. According to folklore, St. Hurin himself travels in disguise on this night, testing the honesty of merchants. The punishment for misrepresentation of wares, gouging, or other duplicity differs from story to story, but it is uniformly harsh.Parika and Seraphim wandered glumly through the bustling marketplace. If they had been in need of a new plow, they would have been in just the right place. They did find a booth selling jewelry, which was nothing spectacular but interesting enough to stop and browse. "I don't suppose you have any pearls about so big?" asked Seraphim doubtfully."Ahh, nope." replied the jeweler in the slow drawl common to rural Midland folk. "Sometimes I get big pearls like that from the city, but only when Master Lutti asks for them."The halfling raised an eyebrow. "Master Lutti? Who's that?""Vincenzo Lutti. He's one of those wizards, you know. Lives outside of town a ways." He pointed across the square. "He's over yonder if you want to talk to him."Vincenzo Lutti turned out to be a fairly average looking man, as wizards went. He was middle aged and slightly paunchy. His clothes were finely tailored, but they were a far cry from the elaborate robes affected by most who shared his profession. The few things he had for sale were either minor trinkets or out of their price range, St. Hurin's Day or no. He was pleasant enough, though, and he chatted with Seraphim for a while of matters arcane. As they were discussing the pros and cons of spellbooks, Parika's glazed expression became animated again. She rummaged in her pack and produced a small tome bound in green leather. "This was that woman's spellbook." "Oh, I had forgotten about that," said Seraphim. She smiled sweetly at the wizard. "What's it worth to you?"Vincenzo took the book from Parika and flipped through it. "Hmm, not much in here. A good apprentice's book, perhaps." He thumbed through a number of blank pages at the back of the book, then stopped at the inside back cover. "Ah, this was Catherine Rollins' spellbook?"Parika shrugged. "We didn't quite catch her name. We were busy trying to keep her from killing us on the road." "Hm, yes," the wizard looked back through the book again. "She's been a problem of late in these parts. She came up from Jal Kufri last year; I guess she didn't get along well with the Guild down there. Can't say as I blame her, actually. Still, she's made no friends on this side of the border either.""Well, she's not going to be a problem any more," said Parika."Is that so?" Vincenzo frowned. "A pity. She had some talent." He closed the book.In the end, Catherine Rollins' life's work was valued at four hundred gold crowns.***The next day, Seraphim used her last pearl to examine the magical properties of some items they had recovered from the bandits. The wizard had worn a plain copper pendant that was determined to have a protective aura. The swordsman had carried a few flasks full of a red tonic that increased the imbiber's strength. More interestingly, his sword turned out to be enchanted as well. "The enchantment is no greater than the one on the fish-man's spear," she said after finishing her examination."But it's a sword, and that's a much better thing," replied Nevroth happily.The halfling handed the sword back. "What do you make of the engravings on the blade?""Honestly, I hadn't bothered to look at them yet." He tilted the blade to catch the lamp light better. "'The Sun is propelled through the Sky by the Motion of Crystal Spheres.'" He flipped the blade over. "'The Sun moves through the Sky because it is Tavion's Will that it does so.'" He shrugged. "It makes no sense to me."Delthic stopped strumming his lute and leaned forward. "What was that again?" Nevroth repeated the phrases. "That's interesting. That's one of St. Olan's more famous quotes." As often happened, his reference was met with blank stares. "St. Olan is fairly obscure; it's no wonder you haven't heard of him. He was a renowned philosopher and theologian. There are much more elegant arguments attributed to him, but the one about the sun is the best known. It's said that his tongue was as sharp as any sword. What it means in this case, however, is as much a mystery to me as it is to you."***None of them were sad to leave Travatti that afternoon. It had been nearly two weeks since they left Freeport, and they could feel the deadline looming over their heads. The endless parade of hills made it seem like they were making no progress. Delthic tried to keep the mood upbeat with songs and stories, but it was difficult. The few discussions they had about their quest were discouraging; none of them were sure that they would be able to find the reclusive singer, let alone convince her to make the journey back with them. They slept uneasily under the stars that night.They had just resumed their journey after the next day's brief midday meal when the silence was broken by a pair of ear-splitting screeches. Swooping over the hills on either side of the road came a pair of beasts with the foreparts of giant eagles and the hindquarters of lions. The massive griffons bore down on Rachel and Nevroth, but they seemed unprepared for such well-armed riders. Each of the creatures attempted to stall their dives, landing awkwardly before their intended prey. Delthic clung desperately to his horse's reins as it bolted ahead. Parika managed to turn her panicked horse to the rear and cover some distance before dismounting. Seraphim slid off the back of Parika's horse, her fingers weaving magical energy before her feet hit the ground. The flashing bolts streaked toward the griffon near Parika, sending feathers flying into the air. Rachel and Nevroth got down from their bucking mounts and readied their blades. They slashed and stabbed at the beasts, but every stroke from their swords was countered by a snapping beak or raking claw. Parika and Seraphim concentrated their fire on the beast mauling Rachel, and it slowly started showing signs of weakness. Rachel and Nevroth bled from a number of vicious wounds, staggering under the flurry of attacks. Rachel took a breath as the griffon stepped back from her, then threw her shield up over her face as the creature spread its wings and leaped over her head. It landed in front of Delthic's horse, which reared up and dumped the bard on the ground. The horse raced off, pursued by the bleeding griffon. Seeing its partner leaving, the second griffon broke off its attack and took to the air, flying away in the direction Parika's horse had run.Delthic did what he could for Nevroth and Rachel's wounds as Parika rounded up the two remaining horses. They mounted up as best they could and made haste down the road. Afraid that the griffons might not have satisfied their hunger, the weary travelers walked and rode through the night. It nearly came as a surprise when they reached the outskirts of San Frinalo. The low buildings of the town were little more than deeper shadows in the dark of night; not a single light could be seen anywhere. They managed to find an inn along the main road, its sign lit only by the moon peeking over the hills. The door and shutters were closed."Some hospitality," muttered Nevroth.</blockquote>

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