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<blockquote data-quote="Iron Sky" data-source="post: 5050605" data-attributes="member: 60965"><p>Session 28, Part 3</p><p> </p><p><Note: Remarkable how much easier the writing flows when there is a spark of inspiration behind it. Some days the muses are with me and other days the words seem forced. Some parts of the story really appeal to me more than others as well. Today was one of the easy days. Enjoy.></p><p> </p><p>They were a quarter of the way along the Span, having taken a long detour to avoid the worst of the literal clouds of flying dead – ravens and bats mostly – that still swarmed around the Span Wall, when a door suddenly opened from nowhere near the motley collection of tents they had set up atop the Skyland.</p><p> </p><p>Keeper walked out and nodded to Bail, Kormak, and Harold in turn. “Suniel invites you to the Black Coach House, heart of the Black Carriage.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gotta be better than watching the depressing ruins on the Span pass by,” Kormak said, walking past the construct like Keeper hadn't been in pieces a couple days before. <em>Amazing what you can get used to</em>, Bail thought.</p><p> </p><p>He grunted and followed the dwarf, but Harold just looked at the door suspiciously, muttering something about “wizards”.</p><p> </p><p>Bail and Kormak stopped just inside the door, glancing around at the black-cobbled courtyard of a massive high-walled compound. Before them was the main house, an imposing five-story structure of black brick. To their right and left leading up to it were dozens of large nooks, many of which had black carriages similar to Suniel's sitting in them.</p><p> </p><p>Behind them was a wall lined with dozens of identical plain doors. Kormak walked over to one and opened it. There was nothing but wall behind it, unlike theirs with Keeper and the Skyland on the other side.</p><p> </p><p>There was a constant bustle of activity in the Coach House; carriages coming and going, apprentices and other followers running this way and that on errands, minor magics and invisible servants flitting about, and here and there what had to be wizards bickering, arguing, reading, chanting spells, discussing prices of potions, inscriptions, spells, and reagents, inspecting carriages, and a dozen other wizardly activities besides.</p><p></p><p>As he and Kormak watched, a gray-haired human woman in a threadbare blue robe tossed a sack up onto a coach bench, hauled herself up after it, and pulled a pair of reins from her robe. She flicked them out before her, two dark horses flashing into existence at the end of the leads and the straps and buckles of the carriage's hitch and harness instantly latching themselves onto the steeds like some strange animate vines.</p><p> </p><p>The woman flicked the reins and the horses instantly thundered ahead, straight for Kormak and Bail.</p><p> </p><p>Bail snarled and readied himself to leap out of the way, but the carriage – horses, woman, coach, and all – suddenly vanished not ten feet in front of them.</p><p> </p><p>“I wonder what Suniel's role in this madhouse is?” Kormak said, scratching himself as they slowly walked through the chaos.</p><p> </p><p>“I am what you might call the Headmaster,” Suniel said, appearing beside them with a faint smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You run this place?” Bail said, sizing up the nondescript, soft-spoken little elf again.</p><p> </p><p>“It looks like no one is running it,” Kormak said. “It looks more like an asylum than wizard school.”</p><p> </p><p>“It's not exactly a school, though I have begun teaching apprentices like the ones back on the other side of the Span,” Suniel said, leading them through the wide double doors of the main entrance to a vast hall with a long wide table running down the middle and a twenty-foot wide hearth blazing and radiating heat through the whole room. Along the walls were massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with sliding ladders and a motley array of cushioned seats, couches, small tables, benches, and stools. The same assortment of characters as outside loitered, read, wrote, napped, bickered, ate, and drank.</p><p> </p><p>The table in the center drew Bail's attention the most, however, for down its center was an array of dishes, plates, pitchers, and platters laden with a veritable feast that the rooms occupants largely ignored. Bail's stomach grumbled as the smells from the food wafted towards them, made even more alluring by their gobbled down meals of dry rations in the past few hard-pressed week.</p><p> </p><p>Suniel smiled and gestured towards an empty spot near the fire. “Eat as much as you like, the food is as real as this place is.”</p><p> </p><p>“How real is this place exactly?” Kormak said as he ambled ahead of Bail towards the fire, rubbing his cloth-wrapped hands and peeling off layers as he approached the cheery fire. The vagaries of heat and cold didn't bother Bail due to his draconic heritage so, in spite of Kormak's constant, mostly-ignored complaints, Bail often forgot about the weather.</p><p> </p><p>He settled down and grabbed a wooden trencher, loading it up with a slab of roast beef, a massive scoop of mashed potatoes with a thick slice of butter, a small round of cheese and thick bread, a steaming bowl of stew, and a cluster of small round fruits that he vaguely remembered being called grapes. He also poured himself a tankard of some golden, earthy-smelling drink that he couldn't immediately identify.</p><p> </p><p>“What is this place for?” Kormak said, waving his arm to encompass everything before returning to extending his stout arms and legs towards the fire.</p><p> </p><p>“It is the heart of the Black Carriage,” Suniel said. “It is the result of much long labor on my part and it is warming to see so much life here after all that I went through to create it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. So, what is this place for?”</p><p> </p><p>Suniel smiled as a two halfling children raced past them to ladle a thick sweet-smelling liquid from one of the many cauldrons bubbling in the fire. “I call it hot chocolate. My variation on something one of the Carriage members brought back from his travels. Try some Kormak, it'll help warm you up.”</p><p> </p><p>Bail watched the dwarf ladle himself a mug-full and sip it as he reached for seconds of everything. “Get me one of those too,” he said around a mouthful of food.</p><p> </p><p>“The Carriages travel all across Felskein. We are a diverse array of wizards, sorcerers, mages, warlocks, witches, gypsies, and tinkers that sell our crafts across the whole of the continent,” Suniel said, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from Kormak with a nod. “You have seen much of my wares; potions and tinctures, balms and charms, ointments and medicines. We make some small profits, yes, but it mostly about the little goodnesses that we can bring to the people of Felskein. The people's lives are hard and even the littlest magics can help bring some small light and hope to their lives.</p><p> </p><p>“And this is <em>our</em> sanctuary, in a place that is no place, accessible only by members of the Black Carriage itself, a little pocket world I created out of the deepest depths of nothingness that lies beyond the stars. Here there is room for all and food for all, there is warmth, friendship, a wealth of knowledge from across the world...” he gestured at the bookshelves and glanced over at the main doors where Harold and his men stood in the doorway, faces grim, hands on their weapons as the looked about them suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>Suniel's expression darkened and his voice grew so soft Bail had to stop chewing to hear as the elf gestured in Harold's direction.</p><p> </p><p>”And mostly, <em>here</em> is the locus of my small bid for Redemption for the evils I unwittingly helped create. If the first half of my life was dedicated – intentionally or not – to deepening the darkness of the world, then let the last half of it be dedicated to creating a thousand tiny points of light to keep the night at bay so that one day perhaps the lights will join and the places of light will shine brightly enough to burn away the dark entirely.</p><p> </p><p>“That is what the Black Carriage is.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Iron Sky, post: 5050605, member: 60965"] Session 28, Part 3 <Note: Remarkable how much easier the writing flows when there is a spark of inspiration behind it. Some days the muses are with me and other days the words seem forced. Some parts of the story really appeal to me more than others as well. Today was one of the easy days. Enjoy.> They were a quarter of the way along the Span, having taken a long detour to avoid the worst of the literal clouds of flying dead – ravens and bats mostly – that still swarmed around the Span Wall, when a door suddenly opened from nowhere near the motley collection of tents they had set up atop the Skyland. Keeper walked out and nodded to Bail, Kormak, and Harold in turn. “Suniel invites you to the Black Coach House, heart of the Black Carriage.” “Gotta be better than watching the depressing ruins on the Span pass by,” Kormak said, walking past the construct like Keeper hadn't been in pieces a couple days before. [I]Amazing what you can get used to[/I], Bail thought. He grunted and followed the dwarf, but Harold just looked at the door suspiciously, muttering something about “wizards”. Bail and Kormak stopped just inside the door, glancing around at the black-cobbled courtyard of a massive high-walled compound. Before them was the main house, an imposing five-story structure of black brick. To their right and left leading up to it were dozens of large nooks, many of which had black carriages similar to Suniel's sitting in them. Behind them was a wall lined with dozens of identical plain doors. Kormak walked over to one and opened it. There was nothing but wall behind it, unlike theirs with Keeper and the Skyland on the other side. There was a constant bustle of activity in the Coach House; carriages coming and going, apprentices and other followers running this way and that on errands, minor magics and invisible servants flitting about, and here and there what had to be wizards bickering, arguing, reading, chanting spells, discussing prices of potions, inscriptions, spells, and reagents, inspecting carriages, and a dozen other wizardly activities besides. As he and Kormak watched, a gray-haired human woman in a threadbare blue robe tossed a sack up onto a coach bench, hauled herself up after it, and pulled a pair of reins from her robe. She flicked them out before her, two dark horses flashing into existence at the end of the leads and the straps and buckles of the carriage's hitch and harness instantly latching themselves onto the steeds like some strange animate vines. The woman flicked the reins and the horses instantly thundered ahead, straight for Kormak and Bail. Bail snarled and readied himself to leap out of the way, but the carriage – horses, woman, coach, and all – suddenly vanished not ten feet in front of them. “I wonder what Suniel's role in this madhouse is?” Kormak said, scratching himself as they slowly walked through the chaos. “I am what you might call the Headmaster,” Suniel said, appearing beside them with a faint smile. “You run this place?” Bail said, sizing up the nondescript, soft-spoken little elf again. “It looks like no one is running it,” Kormak said. “It looks more like an asylum than wizard school.” “It's not exactly a school, though I have begun teaching apprentices like the ones back on the other side of the Span,” Suniel said, leading them through the wide double doors of the main entrance to a vast hall with a long wide table running down the middle and a twenty-foot wide hearth blazing and radiating heat through the whole room. Along the walls were massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with sliding ladders and a motley array of cushioned seats, couches, small tables, benches, and stools. The same assortment of characters as outside loitered, read, wrote, napped, bickered, ate, and drank. The table in the center drew Bail's attention the most, however, for down its center was an array of dishes, plates, pitchers, and platters laden with a veritable feast that the rooms occupants largely ignored. Bail's stomach grumbled as the smells from the food wafted towards them, made even more alluring by their gobbled down meals of dry rations in the past few hard-pressed week. Suniel smiled and gestured towards an empty spot near the fire. “Eat as much as you like, the food is as real as this place is.” “How real is this place exactly?” Kormak said as he ambled ahead of Bail towards the fire, rubbing his cloth-wrapped hands and peeling off layers as he approached the cheery fire. The vagaries of heat and cold didn't bother Bail due to his draconic heritage so, in spite of Kormak's constant, mostly-ignored complaints, Bail often forgot about the weather. He settled down and grabbed a wooden trencher, loading it up with a slab of roast beef, a massive scoop of mashed potatoes with a thick slice of butter, a small round of cheese and thick bread, a steaming bowl of stew, and a cluster of small round fruits that he vaguely remembered being called grapes. He also poured himself a tankard of some golden, earthy-smelling drink that he couldn't immediately identify. “What is this place for?” Kormak said, waving his arm to encompass everything before returning to extending his stout arms and legs towards the fire. “It is the heart of the Black Carriage,” Suniel said. “It is the result of much long labor on my part and it is warming to see so much life here after all that I went through to create it.” “Right. So, what is this place for?” Suniel smiled as a two halfling children raced past them to ladle a thick sweet-smelling liquid from one of the many cauldrons bubbling in the fire. “I call it hot chocolate. My variation on something one of the Carriage members brought back from his travels. Try some Kormak, it'll help warm you up.” Bail watched the dwarf ladle himself a mug-full and sip it as he reached for seconds of everything. “Get me one of those too,” he said around a mouthful of food. “The Carriages travel all across Felskein. We are a diverse array of wizards, sorcerers, mages, warlocks, witches, gypsies, and tinkers that sell our crafts across the whole of the continent,” Suniel said, accepting a mug of hot chocolate from Kormak with a nod. “You have seen much of my wares; potions and tinctures, balms and charms, ointments and medicines. We make some small profits, yes, but it mostly about the little goodnesses that we can bring to the people of Felskein. The people's lives are hard and even the littlest magics can help bring some small light and hope to their lives. “And this is [I]our[/I] sanctuary, in a place that is no place, accessible only by members of the Black Carriage itself, a little pocket world I created out of the deepest depths of nothingness that lies beyond the stars. Here there is room for all and food for all, there is warmth, friendship, a wealth of knowledge from across the world...” he gestured at the bookshelves and glanced over at the main doors where Harold and his men stood in the doorway, faces grim, hands on their weapons as the looked about them suspiciously. Suniel's expression darkened and his voice grew so soft Bail had to stop chewing to hear as the elf gestured in Harold's direction. ”And mostly, [I]here[/I] is the locus of my small bid for Redemption for the evils I unwittingly helped create. If the first half of my life was dedicated – intentionally or not – to deepening the darkness of the world, then let the last half of it be dedicated to creating a thousand tiny points of light to keep the night at bay so that one day perhaps the lights will join and the places of light will shine brightly enough to burn away the dark entirely. “That is what the Black Carriage is.” [/QUOTE]
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