Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
KidCthulhu
First Post
StevenAC said:
The New Delioch Mistrals? Bah. Bunch of dry windbags.
The New Delioch Minstrels, on the other hand...
Fine. Dranko can't sing, and I can't type. Are you happy now, Mr. Picky?
KidCthulhu
First Post
Quite a few. But the point here is really my two left hands fumbling around the keyboard, not the degree of my Potter-osity.
Next time I spellcheck...
Next time I spellcheck...
KidCthulhu
First Post
All right. I give! You're the supreme champion of song parody. I'm not even going to attempt to finish my version of "Sound of Silence" that began "Hello, Parthol, my old friend." I can't compete.
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 196
Although the barn is soon quiet, One Certain Step does not fall asleep for over an hour. He lies on his back staring up at the wooden rafters. His mind is troubled, his heart heavy, his soul disturbed.
One particular image comes to him unbidden when he closes his eyes. A giant falls forward into the frozen slush at his feet, blood trailing in ribbons from gashes opened up with Step’s sword. The scene repeats itself over and over in his mind and he desperately tries to remember what he felt at the time. Satisfaction? Exultation? Even bloodlust? Why was it not until afterward, when Eigomic had spoken, that he had felt shame and remorse? Had he come to this, where a brutish giant was instructing him in matters of honor?
Why did he not speak out, when the rest of his band had rushed the two giants guarding the trap-door in Eigomic’s house? Why had he not put forth a plan of subdual, of non-lethal incapacitation that would have served every bit as well as a quick slaughter?
Step has no good answers. For a long time now he has made his own will subservient to his new friends and their collective quest. But they are not bound by the oaths that he took to Kemma, Goddess of the Sun. Their methods and tactics have long troubled him – while undeniably fighting for Good, they sometimes place facility above honor – but always he has placed the Quest and its success above all other concerns. Wasn't it worth any price to come this far? The holy book said he must keep his appointment with death if Good is to triumph over Evil. Surely so noble and critical an end justifies desperate means?
He knows the answer to that question as soon as it forms: of course not. It is the paladin’s code that no end justifies dishonorable means. Not so many years ago he understood that. When he helped cleanse the filthy den of Vinceris-worshippers in Djaw, his methods and principles were as uncompromising as his desire to succeed.
The giant falls face-first into the bloody snow. Its only crime had been to do as it was told. Just like Step was doing. He considers that Kemma would be justified to remove Her grace from an unworthy vessel.
He falls asleep some time later having found no peace.
* *
Not much past five o’clock the next morning the Company is woken by roosters lustily greeting the dawn. Step is already up; he stands mutely in the doorway facing the rising sun.
“Remind me to kill the chickens,” says Dranko groggily. “Just one snap of the whip and they’d be history.”
“I like it here,” says Ernie, who has jumped up fresh and ready to cook breakfast. “It reminds me of home.”
Grey Wolf nods in agreement. “You can’t kill the chickens,” he adds.
As Kibi pulls on his robes Scree comes up out of the ground at his feet.
“The earth is full of power!” says the elemental.
“I know,” says Kibi. “I can feel it.”
“It’s not the Eyes of Moirel, either,” says Scree. “It’s me. It’s you.”
Kibi does feel it, coursing through his body like electricity. Magical energy is bubbling within him, suffusing him.
“There’s not much stone here,” he observes.
“True,” says Scree. “But the energy is coming from everywhere. Even the… the air. I don’t understand it.”
Ernie walks out of the barn and into the soft pastel dawn. Across the way he sees Matt already hard at work in his fields. He doesn’t have tongues prepared, but he has a pair of comprehend languages*, and figures he’ll just cast one on himself and one upon the farmer. He casts as he walks, then approaches Matt and taps him lightly on the arm as he offers a cheery “Good morning!”
Matt looks down and sees the glow of the magic on his body. He jumps back, alarmed.
“What the hell? What was that you did?” he exclaims.
“I used some magic on you so you can understand me. Good morning. What needs doing? I’m Ernie, by the way.”
Matt looks down at him with a fierce glower on his face.
“Well, Ernie, I’ll tell you the first thing you can do.”
Ernie looks eager to help.
“You don’t cast spells on me when I’m not expecting it, and you haven’t said anything about it!” says Matt angrily.
Ernie is quite taken aback.
“I’m very sorry, and I apologize. That must be frightening for you. But you see, you can’t understand me unless I do!”
“Your friend could understand me yesterday, and I could understand him,” says Matt. “What you did just now, well I don’t appreciate that.”
“I’m sorry,” repeats Ernie.
“It’s not polite,” grumbles Matt.
Ernie gets a bit testy. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of this sort of thing.
“You’ve said so, and I apologized,” he says curtly. “Now what needs doing?”
Matt glares at him for a few more seconds, then sucks in a breath.
“You can fix the barn once the wood shows up. Should be soon,” he says.
“We will, don't worry. I just wanted to know if there were any morning chores I could help with before that.”
“You can feed the chickens.”
“Sure!” says Ernie, back on familiar ground.
“Feed’s over behind the house. Don’t use too much. You done farming?”
“Yup.”
“By the time you’re done that, you can get started on the barn.”
Ernie sets off to help with the morning’s work.
* *
“I think, Grey Wolf, what we should do is, we should build ramparts on this place. Make it defensible, right?”
Grey Wolf looks at Dranko, shakes his head, and walks outside. It’s now a few hours after sunrise and a horse-drawn cart is approaching the barn. An old woman drives it, and a dozen planks of wood rattle in the cart’s bed.
As some of the Company watch, the woman jumps down, walks to the back and hoists four of the large planks onto her shoulders without much effort. Kibi casts tongues.
As some of the party helps the woman with the wood (not that she needs the help; her old legs are wiry, with bulding calves), Dranko casts comprehend languages on himself and jumps down of the loft, letting his ring of feather falling kick in. The woman jumps back in surprise and drops her planks.
“What in tarnation?” she cries.
Dranko takes a step toward her. She takes a step back. Dranko deliberately picks up one of the boards and looks meaningfully over at the rotten corner of the barn.
“For the barn.” he says.
“Does anyone here speak the common tongue?” asks the woman, looking around.
“Hello!” says Kibi. “Excuse me. Thanks for bringing over the wood.”
“Ah, good,” says the woman. “What’s up with him?”
She thumbs toward Dranko.
“Oh, he has some trouble speaking,” says Kibi. “But he can understand what you say. He’s offering to help carry the wood, and he’s sorry for giving you a fright. That wasn’t very nice of him. He doesn’t have very good manners.”
He taps his head and gives the woman a knowing look.
“Hey!” says Dranko. “I can understand you, you know!”
“He could carry the wood over there, but he probably shouldn’t try doing anything tricky with it,” says the woman.
Miffed, Dranko waits until the woman is looking and casts make whole on the wall.
“Is that good?” asks Kibi.
She taps on the mended section a few times, runs her hand over it, inspects it for a minute.
“Can he do that to my shed?” she asks Kibi.
“Sure!” Kibi agrees.
“Why don’t you bring him over, when you’re sure he’s under control. Say, a couple of hours after noon?”
“Under control?!” exclaims Dranko. “What the…”
“We can do that!” says Kibi brightly.
* *
Sometime later Matt comes into the barn to retrieve some tools and put away some others.
“You have breakfast yet?” asks Ernie.
“I’ve already et. But I was thinkin’. Friend here says you’re a good cook.”
“I live to cook!” says Ernie.
“Ah. Well my cookin’ ain’t so good. I’ve been cooking for myself since m’ wife died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” says Ernie. “That your wife died, I mean, not that you cook for yourself.”
“Wouldn’t be wrong to be sorry about either. Anyways, I got some decent ingredients. Got some apples delivered this morning, if you can make anything out of that.”
Matt cannot hide the hopeful smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Why don’t you show me to the kitchen and we’ll see what we can do.”
Ernie finds the kitchen serviceable if underused. He tells Matt he’ll make a full lunch for everyone, including the Company and Matt’s farm-hands.
Around two in the afternoon Matt and three other men (one of whom looks about twelve years old) come in from the fields. Ernie has prepared a feast of sandwiches along with two hot apple pies. Matt spots the repaired corner of the barn and walks over to inspects it.
“How did you get that done?” he asks, rapping his knuckles on the mended wood.
Dranko mimes spell-casting. Morningstar casts tongues
“We used small amounts of our magic to mend the barn over in that corner. Well, Dranko did,” she says.
“Fixed it up with magic, huh? Is that gonna last? You sure? No funny stuff?” He knocks on it again.
“It was a tough spot,” she says.
“Well. Hmm. If you don’t mind, if you do any more fixin’ up that you do, you do it the honest way. Fair enough?”
“Not a problem.”
“No more magickin’ up my barn. And you make sure he understands that…”
He points at Dranko.
“…you know, since he’s not all up there.”
He taps his head again before starting in on his apple pie.
Dranko turns a bright red. “Oh for crying out loud…”
“Great mother earth!” exclaims Matt. “You didn’t magic this pie, did yuh?”
“Ernie doesn’t use magic,” says Morningstar.
Matt wolfs down another bite.
“Mmmm. Mmmm. mm. I know the Antlered God might strike me down for sayin’ this, but… I’m sorry Maude, you never made an apple pie this good.”
“Looks like you’ll be cooking another one,” says Flicker to Ernie.
“Ernie, you’re all right,” says Matt, quite forgiving him for the morning’s incident. “Tell him he’s all right. He can make more of these. Uh, if he wants.”
“I’ll have more farm work for you to do now and then,” continues Matt between bites. “But if you don’t’ make a mess in here, and don’t go makin’ a ruckus, and don’t go usin’ no magic on m’stuff – or me – (tell him he’s forgiven, by the way) – then the barn’s yours. Ain’t used it much since the cows died. If you need anything, I’ll likely be out in the fields. Just watch where you step and don’t go trompin over my crops. Specially the dim one.”
“God damn it!” says Dranko.
* *
That evening Ernie (with tongues cast) wanders back through town to Elder Tog’s house. Townsfolk wave to him as he passes, then point and whisper after he’s gone. Tog is at home and invites him in. Ernie explains that he wants to throw a big town-wide barbecue later in the week, to thank the folk of Green Valley for letting the Company stay as guests.
Tog doesn’t answer right away. After a minute of thought he says, “I would prefer not.”
Ernie is crestfallen. It never occurred to him that Tog would deny his request. He had only come to ask permission as a gesture of politeness.
“But… but the people should congregate and be happy. And eat better!”
“They do that on occasion,” says Tog. “It is your own presence that worries me. It would invite more questioning and speculation, and there has been too much of that in the village already.”
It’s a sullen and moping halfling that walks back through the streets of Green Valley to Matt’s barn. Everyone looks at him curiously as he sits down heavily on the ground.
“Tog won’t let me hold the barbecue. I hate this alternate world stuff!”
“You can have a party for us,” says Grey Wolf.
“It’s not the same. I cook for you guys all the time!”
“And we love it,” says Dranko soothingly. “Even if we’re a little dim.”
* *
Two weeks of training pass. The wizards discover that they’re running out of scroll-ink and wonder when they might have the opportunity to get more. Dranko sets objects around the loft and practices snaring them with his whip. The clerics pray, the fighters spar, and Step broods silently and unnoticed. One afternoon Dranko tries summoning Iglat with his mace, and finds that summoning still works inside (?) the tower of Het Branoi.
The people of Green Valley pretty much leave them to themselves. Even Matt only comes by for meals.
A few days into their third week there is a knock on the barn door come evening. Everyone looks over in surprise; Matt just walks in when he needs something. After a few seconds the door starts slowly sliding open, revealing the diminutive Del, six years old in body but (presumably) almost eighteen in mind. She looks around the barn until she spots Aravis, who casts tongues.
Del looks furtively back outside, as if she fears she’s been followed. The she struggles against the door and slides it closed.
“Is that the spell that lets you speak our language?” she asks, walking over to Aravis.
Aravis nods.
“May I… ask you some questions?” she says. Aravis translates for the others.
“Uh oh,” mutters Grey Wolf.
“You may ask,” says Aravis slowly, “but I might not be able to answer.”
“What are your plans,” asks Del. “Are you staying here forever?”
“No. We are only staying long enough to…”
“Then where are you going when you leave?” Del interrupts.
“To be honest, I don’t know where we’re going. We need to find out where it is we’re supposed to be.”
“So you’re just going to march out into the forest? Are you going back to the cities of Cressella?”
“I’m not sure,” says Aravis cautiously.
“Did Tog tell you anything, about what’s out in the forest?”
“He told some of what he has seen, yes”
“What has he seen?” urges Del.
“You should talk to him about that,” answers Aravis.
“Oh, I have. And I’m not the only one.”
Ernie starts making “stop talking” motions behind her, where Aravis can see.
“Some of us… think Tog is not telling us the whole truth,” Del continues.
At Dranko’s request Aravis asks Del if he may cast comprehend languages on her.
“So I’ll understand all of you? Will you answer my questions then?”
“You have to say no!” whispers Ernie.
“I will not lie to you,” says Aravis, “but I will not necessarily be able to answer every question you ask. I’m sorry, but I made some promises to Tog.”
She nods her head and Dranko casts the spell.
“Can you understand me?” asks Dranko.
“Yeah.”
“Tog has his sh*t together,” he says bluntly. “There’s no doubt you’re sick of being here, and you’re sick of being in the Stillness.”
“Yeah, I’ll say.”
“Tog’s right, though. We don’t know how we got here, we don’t know where we are, and we don’t know where we’re gonna go.”
“He saw something out there.”
“I don’t know if he did or not,” says Dranko warily.
“Oh, you probably know. Tog probably told you, and made you promise that you wouldn’t say anything to the rest of us.”
“You’re here where you’re supposed to be, with your people, with your families,” says Ernie.
“Where I’m SUPPOSED to be is not STUCK in this village, forbidden to leave, not aging, knowing that there’s some way out that we’re not allowed to find!”
Ernie looks at her with sympathy.
“I’m not sure there is a way out,” he says. "And I think that if you tried to get out, you’d be lost, and alone. You have no idea how much that stinks.”
Del rolls her eyes.
“I wouldn’t go myself,” she says, exasperated.
“You don’t look stupid. Are you stupid?” asks Dranko.
“No!”
“Right. And since you’re not stupid, don’t you think that if there was a way to get the hell out of here, away from the Stillness, that your people would have taken it?”
“If we were allowed to find out things for ourselves, we might have.”
“Use your brain!” cries Dranko.
“Dranko!” says Aravis sharply.
“You’re not being very nice to her,” says Kibi.
“It’s not about being nice!” shouts Dranko.
“No,” says Del coldly. “It’s about doing what Tog told you to do, isn’t it? It’s about saying what Tog told you to say, isn’t it? I see how it is.”
“I don’t obey orders very well,” snarls Dranko
“Well you’re doing a good job of it,” Del snaps back at him.
They lock eyes with each other, glaring. Aravis breaks the awkward silence.
“When we came here, we came through a doorway that disappeared behind us. We intend to go out and find a way that we can leave here.”
“Another doorway. Out of the forest,” says Del.
“Some. Way,” replies Aravis.
“Uh uh,” says Del. “Tog has been insisting that there aren’t any more doorways. If he’s telling the truth, what do you expect to find?”
“We may not find anything. We may be here forever,” says Aravis.
“At least you’re all in adult bodies,” says Del bitterly.
Aravis sighs.
“Please. Before you do anything rash, I suggest that those of you who believe that Tog isn’t telling you everything, get together and try to convince him to admit whatever it is you think he’s holding back.”
“Oh, great idea. You think we haven’t done that before? Several times?”
Dranko decides to try a different approach – scare tactics.
“You know, when we first came here, we expected to get our asses kicked by a giant monster.”
“Here in Green Valley?” Del snorts. “You thought there was a monster in Green Valley?”
“There’s always a monster,” mumbles Ernie.
“We did not know what was here,” says Aravis. “We didn’t know it was Green Valley at all.”
“But you came from the place with the giants, right?”
“Yes,” says Aravis. “And according to a prophecy, we’re going to face something that’s going to kill at least one of us. We expected it to be in Green Valley. If it’s not here, it could be in the next place we go. It’s probably waiting for us.”
Del leaps to her feet.
“Yeah, well, there’s something that’s going to kill us too, and you’ve met him already. His name is Tog.”
She turns her back on the Company and marches toward the door..
“You’re going to do something you think is incredibly adventurous, but is really pretty stupid,” Dranko calls after her.
Del has started to open the barn door, but wheels around as if stung.
“If you find a way out of here, are you going to tell us?”
“Make you a deal,” says Dranko. “If we can find a way to end the Stillness, we will. Promise.”
“All right,” says Del. “All right. Good night.”
She heaves on the door until it opens and scurries into the night.
…to be continued…
* Our current house rule for comprehend languages is that (for spoken words) it works just like tongues, but only for understanding, not for speaking; and it can target anyone, not just the caster. I may use the upcoming transition to 3.5 as an opportunity to revert to the book rules, but I haven’t decided yet.
Although the barn is soon quiet, One Certain Step does not fall asleep for over an hour. He lies on his back staring up at the wooden rafters. His mind is troubled, his heart heavy, his soul disturbed.
One particular image comes to him unbidden when he closes his eyes. A giant falls forward into the frozen slush at his feet, blood trailing in ribbons from gashes opened up with Step’s sword. The scene repeats itself over and over in his mind and he desperately tries to remember what he felt at the time. Satisfaction? Exultation? Even bloodlust? Why was it not until afterward, when Eigomic had spoken, that he had felt shame and remorse? Had he come to this, where a brutish giant was instructing him in matters of honor?
Why did he not speak out, when the rest of his band had rushed the two giants guarding the trap-door in Eigomic’s house? Why had he not put forth a plan of subdual, of non-lethal incapacitation that would have served every bit as well as a quick slaughter?
Step has no good answers. For a long time now he has made his own will subservient to his new friends and their collective quest. But they are not bound by the oaths that he took to Kemma, Goddess of the Sun. Their methods and tactics have long troubled him – while undeniably fighting for Good, they sometimes place facility above honor – but always he has placed the Quest and its success above all other concerns. Wasn't it worth any price to come this far? The holy book said he must keep his appointment with death if Good is to triumph over Evil. Surely so noble and critical an end justifies desperate means?
He knows the answer to that question as soon as it forms: of course not. It is the paladin’s code that no end justifies dishonorable means. Not so many years ago he understood that. When he helped cleanse the filthy den of Vinceris-worshippers in Djaw, his methods and principles were as uncompromising as his desire to succeed.
The giant falls face-first into the bloody snow. Its only crime had been to do as it was told. Just like Step was doing. He considers that Kemma would be justified to remove Her grace from an unworthy vessel.
He falls asleep some time later having found no peace.
* *
Not much past five o’clock the next morning the Company is woken by roosters lustily greeting the dawn. Step is already up; he stands mutely in the doorway facing the rising sun.
“Remind me to kill the chickens,” says Dranko groggily. “Just one snap of the whip and they’d be history.”
“I like it here,” says Ernie, who has jumped up fresh and ready to cook breakfast. “It reminds me of home.”
Grey Wolf nods in agreement. “You can’t kill the chickens,” he adds.
As Kibi pulls on his robes Scree comes up out of the ground at his feet.
“The earth is full of power!” says the elemental.
“I know,” says Kibi. “I can feel it.”
“It’s not the Eyes of Moirel, either,” says Scree. “It’s me. It’s you.”
Kibi does feel it, coursing through his body like electricity. Magical energy is bubbling within him, suffusing him.
“There’s not much stone here,” he observes.
“True,” says Scree. “But the energy is coming from everywhere. Even the… the air. I don’t understand it.”
Ernie walks out of the barn and into the soft pastel dawn. Across the way he sees Matt already hard at work in his fields. He doesn’t have tongues prepared, but he has a pair of comprehend languages*, and figures he’ll just cast one on himself and one upon the farmer. He casts as he walks, then approaches Matt and taps him lightly on the arm as he offers a cheery “Good morning!”
Matt looks down and sees the glow of the magic on his body. He jumps back, alarmed.
“What the hell? What was that you did?” he exclaims.
“I used some magic on you so you can understand me. Good morning. What needs doing? I’m Ernie, by the way.”
Matt looks down at him with a fierce glower on his face.
“Well, Ernie, I’ll tell you the first thing you can do.”
Ernie looks eager to help.
“You don’t cast spells on me when I’m not expecting it, and you haven’t said anything about it!” says Matt angrily.
Ernie is quite taken aback.
“I’m very sorry, and I apologize. That must be frightening for you. But you see, you can’t understand me unless I do!”
“Your friend could understand me yesterday, and I could understand him,” says Matt. “What you did just now, well I don’t appreciate that.”
“I’m sorry,” repeats Ernie.
“It’s not polite,” grumbles Matt.
Ernie gets a bit testy. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of this sort of thing.
“You’ve said so, and I apologized,” he says curtly. “Now what needs doing?”
Matt glares at him for a few more seconds, then sucks in a breath.
“You can fix the barn once the wood shows up. Should be soon,” he says.
“We will, don't worry. I just wanted to know if there were any morning chores I could help with before that.”
“You can feed the chickens.”
“Sure!” says Ernie, back on familiar ground.
“Feed’s over behind the house. Don’t use too much. You done farming?”
“Yup.”
“By the time you’re done that, you can get started on the barn.”
Ernie sets off to help with the morning’s work.
* *
“I think, Grey Wolf, what we should do is, we should build ramparts on this place. Make it defensible, right?”
Grey Wolf looks at Dranko, shakes his head, and walks outside. It’s now a few hours after sunrise and a horse-drawn cart is approaching the barn. An old woman drives it, and a dozen planks of wood rattle in the cart’s bed.
As some of the Company watch, the woman jumps down, walks to the back and hoists four of the large planks onto her shoulders without much effort. Kibi casts tongues.
As some of the party helps the woman with the wood (not that she needs the help; her old legs are wiry, with bulding calves), Dranko casts comprehend languages on himself and jumps down of the loft, letting his ring of feather falling kick in. The woman jumps back in surprise and drops her planks.
“What in tarnation?” she cries.
Dranko takes a step toward her. She takes a step back. Dranko deliberately picks up one of the boards and looks meaningfully over at the rotten corner of the barn.
“For the barn.” he says.
“Does anyone here speak the common tongue?” asks the woman, looking around.
“Hello!” says Kibi. “Excuse me. Thanks for bringing over the wood.”
“Ah, good,” says the woman. “What’s up with him?”
She thumbs toward Dranko.
“Oh, he has some trouble speaking,” says Kibi. “But he can understand what you say. He’s offering to help carry the wood, and he’s sorry for giving you a fright. That wasn’t very nice of him. He doesn’t have very good manners.”
He taps his head and gives the woman a knowing look.
“Hey!” says Dranko. “I can understand you, you know!”
“He could carry the wood over there, but he probably shouldn’t try doing anything tricky with it,” says the woman.
Miffed, Dranko waits until the woman is looking and casts make whole on the wall.
“Is that good?” asks Kibi.
She taps on the mended section a few times, runs her hand over it, inspects it for a minute.
“Can he do that to my shed?” she asks Kibi.
“Sure!” Kibi agrees.
“Why don’t you bring him over, when you’re sure he’s under control. Say, a couple of hours after noon?”
“Under control?!” exclaims Dranko. “What the…”
“We can do that!” says Kibi brightly.
* *
Sometime later Matt comes into the barn to retrieve some tools and put away some others.
“You have breakfast yet?” asks Ernie.
“I’ve already et. But I was thinkin’. Friend here says you’re a good cook.”
“I live to cook!” says Ernie.
“Ah. Well my cookin’ ain’t so good. I’ve been cooking for myself since m’ wife died.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” says Ernie. “That your wife died, I mean, not that you cook for yourself.”
“Wouldn’t be wrong to be sorry about either. Anyways, I got some decent ingredients. Got some apples delivered this morning, if you can make anything out of that.”
Matt cannot hide the hopeful smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Why don’t you show me to the kitchen and we’ll see what we can do.”
Ernie finds the kitchen serviceable if underused. He tells Matt he’ll make a full lunch for everyone, including the Company and Matt’s farm-hands.
Around two in the afternoon Matt and three other men (one of whom looks about twelve years old) come in from the fields. Ernie has prepared a feast of sandwiches along with two hot apple pies. Matt spots the repaired corner of the barn and walks over to inspects it.
“How did you get that done?” he asks, rapping his knuckles on the mended wood.
Dranko mimes spell-casting. Morningstar casts tongues
“We used small amounts of our magic to mend the barn over in that corner. Well, Dranko did,” she says.
“Fixed it up with magic, huh? Is that gonna last? You sure? No funny stuff?” He knocks on it again.
“It was a tough spot,” she says.
“Well. Hmm. If you don’t mind, if you do any more fixin’ up that you do, you do it the honest way. Fair enough?”
“Not a problem.”
“No more magickin’ up my barn. And you make sure he understands that…”
He points at Dranko.
“…you know, since he’s not all up there.”
He taps his head again before starting in on his apple pie.
Dranko turns a bright red. “Oh for crying out loud…”
“Great mother earth!” exclaims Matt. “You didn’t magic this pie, did yuh?”
“Ernie doesn’t use magic,” says Morningstar.
Matt wolfs down another bite.
“Mmmm. Mmmm. mm. I know the Antlered God might strike me down for sayin’ this, but… I’m sorry Maude, you never made an apple pie this good.”
“Looks like you’ll be cooking another one,” says Flicker to Ernie.
“Ernie, you’re all right,” says Matt, quite forgiving him for the morning’s incident. “Tell him he’s all right. He can make more of these. Uh, if he wants.”
“I’ll have more farm work for you to do now and then,” continues Matt between bites. “But if you don’t’ make a mess in here, and don’t go makin’ a ruckus, and don’t go usin’ no magic on m’stuff – or me – (tell him he’s forgiven, by the way) – then the barn’s yours. Ain’t used it much since the cows died. If you need anything, I’ll likely be out in the fields. Just watch where you step and don’t go trompin over my crops. Specially the dim one.”
“God damn it!” says Dranko.
* *
That evening Ernie (with tongues cast) wanders back through town to Elder Tog’s house. Townsfolk wave to him as he passes, then point and whisper after he’s gone. Tog is at home and invites him in. Ernie explains that he wants to throw a big town-wide barbecue later in the week, to thank the folk of Green Valley for letting the Company stay as guests.
Tog doesn’t answer right away. After a minute of thought he says, “I would prefer not.”
Ernie is crestfallen. It never occurred to him that Tog would deny his request. He had only come to ask permission as a gesture of politeness.
“But… but the people should congregate and be happy. And eat better!”
“They do that on occasion,” says Tog. “It is your own presence that worries me. It would invite more questioning and speculation, and there has been too much of that in the village already.”
It’s a sullen and moping halfling that walks back through the streets of Green Valley to Matt’s barn. Everyone looks at him curiously as he sits down heavily on the ground.
“Tog won’t let me hold the barbecue. I hate this alternate world stuff!”
“You can have a party for us,” says Grey Wolf.
“It’s not the same. I cook for you guys all the time!”
“And we love it,” says Dranko soothingly. “Even if we’re a little dim.”
* *
Two weeks of training pass. The wizards discover that they’re running out of scroll-ink and wonder when they might have the opportunity to get more. Dranko sets objects around the loft and practices snaring them with his whip. The clerics pray, the fighters spar, and Step broods silently and unnoticed. One afternoon Dranko tries summoning Iglat with his mace, and finds that summoning still works inside (?) the tower of Het Branoi.
The people of Green Valley pretty much leave them to themselves. Even Matt only comes by for meals.
A few days into their third week there is a knock on the barn door come evening. Everyone looks over in surprise; Matt just walks in when he needs something. After a few seconds the door starts slowly sliding open, revealing the diminutive Del, six years old in body but (presumably) almost eighteen in mind. She looks around the barn until she spots Aravis, who casts tongues.
Del looks furtively back outside, as if she fears she’s been followed. The she struggles against the door and slides it closed.
“Is that the spell that lets you speak our language?” she asks, walking over to Aravis.
Aravis nods.
“May I… ask you some questions?” she says. Aravis translates for the others.
“Uh oh,” mutters Grey Wolf.
“You may ask,” says Aravis slowly, “but I might not be able to answer.”
“What are your plans,” asks Del. “Are you staying here forever?”
“No. We are only staying long enough to…”
“Then where are you going when you leave?” Del interrupts.
“To be honest, I don’t know where we’re going. We need to find out where it is we’re supposed to be.”
“So you’re just going to march out into the forest? Are you going back to the cities of Cressella?”
“I’m not sure,” says Aravis cautiously.
“Did Tog tell you anything, about what’s out in the forest?”
“He told some of what he has seen, yes”
“What has he seen?” urges Del.
“You should talk to him about that,” answers Aravis.
“Oh, I have. And I’m not the only one.”
Ernie starts making “stop talking” motions behind her, where Aravis can see.
“Some of us… think Tog is not telling us the whole truth,” Del continues.
At Dranko’s request Aravis asks Del if he may cast comprehend languages on her.
“So I’ll understand all of you? Will you answer my questions then?”
“You have to say no!” whispers Ernie.
“I will not lie to you,” says Aravis, “but I will not necessarily be able to answer every question you ask. I’m sorry, but I made some promises to Tog.”
She nods her head and Dranko casts the spell.
“Can you understand me?” asks Dranko.
“Yeah.”
“Tog has his sh*t together,” he says bluntly. “There’s no doubt you’re sick of being here, and you’re sick of being in the Stillness.”
“Yeah, I’ll say.”
“Tog’s right, though. We don’t know how we got here, we don’t know where we are, and we don’t know where we’re gonna go.”
“He saw something out there.”
“I don’t know if he did or not,” says Dranko warily.
“Oh, you probably know. Tog probably told you, and made you promise that you wouldn’t say anything to the rest of us.”
“You’re here where you’re supposed to be, with your people, with your families,” says Ernie.
“Where I’m SUPPOSED to be is not STUCK in this village, forbidden to leave, not aging, knowing that there’s some way out that we’re not allowed to find!”
Ernie looks at her with sympathy.
“I’m not sure there is a way out,” he says. "And I think that if you tried to get out, you’d be lost, and alone. You have no idea how much that stinks.”
Del rolls her eyes.
“I wouldn’t go myself,” she says, exasperated.
“You don’t look stupid. Are you stupid?” asks Dranko.
“No!”
“Right. And since you’re not stupid, don’t you think that if there was a way to get the hell out of here, away from the Stillness, that your people would have taken it?”
“If we were allowed to find out things for ourselves, we might have.”
“Use your brain!” cries Dranko.
“Dranko!” says Aravis sharply.
“You’re not being very nice to her,” says Kibi.
“It’s not about being nice!” shouts Dranko.
“No,” says Del coldly. “It’s about doing what Tog told you to do, isn’t it? It’s about saying what Tog told you to say, isn’t it? I see how it is.”
“I don’t obey orders very well,” snarls Dranko
“Well you’re doing a good job of it,” Del snaps back at him.
They lock eyes with each other, glaring. Aravis breaks the awkward silence.
“When we came here, we came through a doorway that disappeared behind us. We intend to go out and find a way that we can leave here.”
“Another doorway. Out of the forest,” says Del.
“Some. Way,” replies Aravis.
“Uh uh,” says Del. “Tog has been insisting that there aren’t any more doorways. If he’s telling the truth, what do you expect to find?”
“We may not find anything. We may be here forever,” says Aravis.
“At least you’re all in adult bodies,” says Del bitterly.
Aravis sighs.
“Please. Before you do anything rash, I suggest that those of you who believe that Tog isn’t telling you everything, get together and try to convince him to admit whatever it is you think he’s holding back.”
“Oh, great idea. You think we haven’t done that before? Several times?”
Dranko decides to try a different approach – scare tactics.
“You know, when we first came here, we expected to get our asses kicked by a giant monster.”
“Here in Green Valley?” Del snorts. “You thought there was a monster in Green Valley?”
“There’s always a monster,” mumbles Ernie.
“We did not know what was here,” says Aravis. “We didn’t know it was Green Valley at all.”
“But you came from the place with the giants, right?”
“Yes,” says Aravis. “And according to a prophecy, we’re going to face something that’s going to kill at least one of us. We expected it to be in Green Valley. If it’s not here, it could be in the next place we go. It’s probably waiting for us.”
Del leaps to her feet.
“Yeah, well, there’s something that’s going to kill us too, and you’ve met him already. His name is Tog.”
She turns her back on the Company and marches toward the door..
“You’re going to do something you think is incredibly adventurous, but is really pretty stupid,” Dranko calls after her.
Del has started to open the barn door, but wheels around as if stung.
“If you find a way out of here, are you going to tell us?”
“Make you a deal,” says Dranko. “If we can find a way to end the Stillness, we will. Promise.”
“All right,” says Del. “All right. Good night.”
She heaves on the door until it opens and scurries into the night.
…to be continued…
* Our current house rule for comprehend languages is that (for spoken words) it works just like tongues, but only for understanding, not for speaking; and it can target anyone, not just the caster. I may use the upcoming transition to 3.5 as an opportunity to revert to the book rules, but I haven’t decided yet.
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