Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
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Lazybones
Adventurer
Hey readers.
I was reviewing what I've written on Book VII so far, and have noticed that this book focuses less on the nonstop action that is my trademark, and more on character development and scene-setting. I'm currently a few chapters ahead and considered editing down some of this material, but couldn't find anything that didn't advance the overall plot of the story.
I am building to something, though, and promise that once the ball starts rolling, we'll have battles and dramatic surprises aplenty. And cliffhangers, Maldur: plenty of cliffhangers.
Thanks for reading.
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 6
Benzan hesitated in front of the plain wooden door. Behind him, the sounds of the inn’s common room carried clearly, even though the evening crowd hadn’t fully arrived as of yet. He felt a tingle pass through him, like the anticipation he felt just before a battle, and he had to resist the urge to reach down and touch the hilt of his sword.
He took a deep breath, and knocked.
He heard the footsteps before the latch caught, and the door opened to reveal her. She looked a little different, more settled, her hair somewhat longer and her features less weathered. Her eyes widened as she saw him.
“Benzan!”
“Hi, Elly.”
She was clearly shocked and surprised, but she recovered quickly. “Please, come in.”
The room wasn’t large, a small outer chamber that apparently opened onto an adjacent bedroom. A small table, a pair of chairs, and a short chest of drawers were the only furnishings, but the woven carpets on the floor and the curtains on the windows gave the room a nice, homey look.
“How did you find me?” she asked. She closed the door, but didn’t move from it, standing there with her arms folded tight against her body.
“Dana saw you, in the park. It wasn’t that hard to find you; I had a good idea of where to ask the right questions.”
“Then you know.”
He nodded. She gestured for him to sit down at the table, and he did, glancing searchingly into the adjacent bedroom as he passed the doorway.
“She’s not here. Maiglan’s taking care of her for me today.”
“Why didn’t you try to get in touch with me? Or did you...”
She looked up at him, her eyes deep with feeling. “Benzan... I don’t regret anything that’s happened, Benzan, but we knew all along that what we had, it wasn’t permanent. You are a traveler, not the sort to settle down in one place for long. Would it have changed anything, if you had known?”
“I would have helped. Taken care of you and...”
“Izandra. I named her Izandra.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She’s a wonder,” Elly said, and for a moment her face seemed to take on a glow.
“Motherhood suits you, Elly.”
“You know, I never thought it would, but I guess you’re right. Now that I have her, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
“How are you... getting by?” He didn’t have to elaborate; life in Faerûn was hard enough, even if one wasn’t a single parent.
“A friend of Kael owns this inn; she lets me stay for a reduced rent, and I help out around the place.” She saw Benzan’s face harden, and she added, “It’s not like that. It’s nice—almost like a real family. It’s a nice place, good neighborhood, and there are other children about for when she gets older. And it’s not like I’m poor; I sold the magical spear that we brought back from the Isle for a good sum, and I have a few investments that are paying small, but steady, dividends.”
“You always were practical, Elly.”
“We get by just fine. I don’t miss the life of the sea... well, not that much, anyway. I certainly don’t miss the constant danger that traveling with you and your friends entailed.”
“Elly...”
“How are the others?” By the way she looked up and suddenly met his gaze, it was clear which of the “others” she meant.
Benzan smiled, his feelings laid bare in his eyes, a truth that Elly read clearly even before he spoke. “The others... they are great.”
“Will you... be staying in the city long?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He almost told her about Delem, about all that had happened, but he decided not to. “We’re headed south pretty soon, I think.”
“Well, if you want to stop by before you go, you can see her...”
He nodded, even though he knew it was unlikely even as he did. Already he was nearly overwhelmed by it all; if he actually saw the child... my daughter... he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle it. She saw it, too, understood even as she tried to keep her feelings from showing on her face. He rose, too quickly. She stood as well, and the two of them stood there, facing each other over an uneasy silence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t try to contact you, Benzan. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you, please believe me.”
“Of course, Elly. I’m not sad, or angry... it’s all just a little overwhelming.”
“I understand. It was for me too, believe me.”
He reached into the pocket of his cloak, and withdrew a small bag. “I want you to have this. It isn’t a handout, and I know you can take care of yourself just fine, but I really want you and... Izandra to have it.”
She took the bag, nodded. “Thank you. We’ll be all right. And when she’s old enough, I’ll tell her about her father, I promise.”
“I will be back, Elly. And if you ever need anything...” He left it hanging; both knew that it would be difficult at best to find him, if it came to that. But he would stop by the local temple of Lathander on his way out; he’d passed it coming here. He had another bag for the priests there, and some instructions as well. For once, he wouldn’t mind leaving town with only a few coins in his purse. He also knew that Elly would put the rubies that were in the bottom of the pouch he’d given her, under the gold and silver, to good use. He’d intended to buy magical arrows with them, but suddenly that intent seemed like an utter waste.
For all their denials, Benzan knew that everything had changed. He’d have to speak to Cal, too... just in case.
They embraced, holding each other tightly for a long moment. Elly was the first to break the hug, although there was a reluctance in her face that she quickly hid before he could see it. She followed him to the door.
She didn’t start crying until she could no longer hear his footsteps on the floorboards of the stairs outside.
I was reviewing what I've written on Book VII so far, and have noticed that this book focuses less on the nonstop action that is my trademark, and more on character development and scene-setting. I'm currently a few chapters ahead and considered editing down some of this material, but couldn't find anything that didn't advance the overall plot of the story.
I am building to something, though, and promise that once the ball starts rolling, we'll have battles and dramatic surprises aplenty. And cliffhangers, Maldur: plenty of cliffhangers.
Thanks for reading.
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 6
Benzan hesitated in front of the plain wooden door. Behind him, the sounds of the inn’s common room carried clearly, even though the evening crowd hadn’t fully arrived as of yet. He felt a tingle pass through him, like the anticipation he felt just before a battle, and he had to resist the urge to reach down and touch the hilt of his sword.
He took a deep breath, and knocked.
He heard the footsteps before the latch caught, and the door opened to reveal her. She looked a little different, more settled, her hair somewhat longer and her features less weathered. Her eyes widened as she saw him.
“Benzan!”
“Hi, Elly.”
She was clearly shocked and surprised, but she recovered quickly. “Please, come in.”
The room wasn’t large, a small outer chamber that apparently opened onto an adjacent bedroom. A small table, a pair of chairs, and a short chest of drawers were the only furnishings, but the woven carpets on the floor and the curtains on the windows gave the room a nice, homey look.
“How did you find me?” she asked. She closed the door, but didn’t move from it, standing there with her arms folded tight against her body.
“Dana saw you, in the park. It wasn’t that hard to find you; I had a good idea of where to ask the right questions.”
“Then you know.”
He nodded. She gestured for him to sit down at the table, and he did, glancing searchingly into the adjacent bedroom as he passed the doorway.
“She’s not here. Maiglan’s taking care of her for me today.”
“Why didn’t you try to get in touch with me? Or did you...”
She looked up at him, her eyes deep with feeling. “Benzan... I don’t regret anything that’s happened, Benzan, but we knew all along that what we had, it wasn’t permanent. You are a traveler, not the sort to settle down in one place for long. Would it have changed anything, if you had known?”
“I would have helped. Taken care of you and...”
“Izandra. I named her Izandra.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She’s a wonder,” Elly said, and for a moment her face seemed to take on a glow.
“Motherhood suits you, Elly.”
“You know, I never thought it would, but I guess you’re right. Now that I have her, I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
“How are you... getting by?” He didn’t have to elaborate; life in Faerûn was hard enough, even if one wasn’t a single parent.
“A friend of Kael owns this inn; she lets me stay for a reduced rent, and I help out around the place.” She saw Benzan’s face harden, and she added, “It’s not like that. It’s nice—almost like a real family. It’s a nice place, good neighborhood, and there are other children about for when she gets older. And it’s not like I’m poor; I sold the magical spear that we brought back from the Isle for a good sum, and I have a few investments that are paying small, but steady, dividends.”
“You always were practical, Elly.”
“We get by just fine. I don’t miss the life of the sea... well, not that much, anyway. I certainly don’t miss the constant danger that traveling with you and your friends entailed.”
“Elly...”
“How are the others?” By the way she looked up and suddenly met his gaze, it was clear which of the “others” she meant.
Benzan smiled, his feelings laid bare in his eyes, a truth that Elly read clearly even before he spoke. “The others... they are great.”
“Will you... be staying in the city long?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He almost told her about Delem, about all that had happened, but he decided not to. “We’re headed south pretty soon, I think.”
“Well, if you want to stop by before you go, you can see her...”
He nodded, even though he knew it was unlikely even as he did. Already he was nearly overwhelmed by it all; if he actually saw the child... my daughter... he wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle it. She saw it, too, understood even as she tried to keep her feelings from showing on her face. He rose, too quickly. She stood as well, and the two of them stood there, facing each other over an uneasy silence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t try to contact you, Benzan. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you, please believe me.”
“Of course, Elly. I’m not sad, or angry... it’s all just a little overwhelming.”
“I understand. It was for me too, believe me.”
He reached into the pocket of his cloak, and withdrew a small bag. “I want you to have this. It isn’t a handout, and I know you can take care of yourself just fine, but I really want you and... Izandra to have it.”
She took the bag, nodded. “Thank you. We’ll be all right. And when she’s old enough, I’ll tell her about her father, I promise.”
“I will be back, Elly. And if you ever need anything...” He left it hanging; both knew that it would be difficult at best to find him, if it came to that. But he would stop by the local temple of Lathander on his way out; he’d passed it coming here. He had another bag for the priests there, and some instructions as well. For once, he wouldn’t mind leaving town with only a few coins in his purse. He also knew that Elly would put the rubies that were in the bottom of the pouch he’d given her, under the gold and silver, to good use. He’d intended to buy magical arrows with them, but suddenly that intent seemed like an utter waste.
For all their denials, Benzan knew that everything had changed. He’d have to speak to Cal, too... just in case.
They embraced, holding each other tightly for a long moment. Elly was the first to break the hug, although there was a reluctance in her face that she quickly hid before he could see it. She followed him to the door.
She didn’t start crying until she could no longer hear his footsteps on the floorboards of the stairs outside.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
I, for one, appreciate character development. Please continue.
Salthorae
Imperial Mountain Dew Taster
agreement
I'm gonna have to agree with the others so far...I love the character development, it's almost like reading a novel in that I get to know the thought and motivations behind the characters...
And i'm frustrated that I don't know the end yet...just like when i read a novel
Love the Story Hour LB...keep it up
I'm gonna have to agree with the others so far...I love the character development, it's almost like reading a novel in that I get to know the thought and motivations behind the characters...
And i'm frustrated that I don't know the end yet...just like when i read a novel
Love the Story Hour LB...keep it up
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the supporting posts, all.
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 7
Dana grimaced as she slipped and the tunic she’d been repairing fell off her lap onto the floor. She quickly picked it up and saw that last three lines of thread that she’d just sewn had torn. She forced herself to take a deep breath before starting again. The tunic was really past its days, and she already had more than enough new clothes to replace it, but she wanted something to do with her hands, something to focus on other than... So far, it wasn’t helping much.
From the doorway behind her, Benzan watched her, watched the movements of her hands as they moved across the cloth, admired the muscular curves of her neck and shoulders, the way her hair drew back casually into the cord she’d wrapped around the extra length to keep it out of the way. She normally kept her hair trimmed short, but lately she’d let it grow out some, enough to fall almost to her shoulders when she didn’t keep it tied back.
His breath caught in his throat as he admired her. By the gods, she was beautiful, even in her current state of casual disarray. She wasn’t an alabaster model of beauty such as noble society held up as an ideal, but a strong, capable woman whose skills had been tested in the chaos of battle, the trials of spirit that the four of them had faced in the last years. The strain of those tests showed in her face, but to him they only bolstered the appeal that she held for him.
Not for the first time, he wondered why in the world she had fallen in love with him, of all people. Not that he was going to question that good fortune.
He hadn’t made a sound, but suddenly she turned and looked up at him. She smiled, but there was tension there, as well.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He came into the room, toward the chair where she was sitting. “Looks like that patient is already too far gone to save,” he said, indicating the worn tunic.
“Yeah. Well.” She looked down at her lap for a moment, and while her head came up again quickly, he sensed the turmoil within her. “Did you see... did you see Elly?”
“Yes. Thank you, for telling me.”
“You had a right to know.”
The chair wasn’t really big enough for two, but he leaned on one padded arm and reached down to touch the side of her face. “I love you. It’s still strange to hear myself say it, sometimes... but it’s true.”
Her eyes shone. “I love you too.” Then she snorted. “But don’t think this means that I’m going to take it easy on you. Somebody’s got to help keep you in line, and alive—gods know that Cal and Lok alone can’t do it.”
He smiled, and took her hand, pulling her up to him. For a moment they held each other, then melted into a long kiss.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him, when the finally pulled back.
“Later. Have you talked to the others yet?”
“Just briefly. They’re down in the library, waiting for you to get back.”
“Let’s go talk to them, then.”
The two of them left the room and went down the back stairs to the comfortably furnished library that adjoined the storerooms at the back of the inn. Although Alera had offered to let them stay at the Calloran home as long as they wished, Cal had finally insisted that they take rooms in the city. The inn where they’d spent the last two tendays, “The Laughing Dragon,” was a sprawling three-story extravagance that took up half a city block. It was expensive, of course, but the four of them had more than enough money even after their numerous purchases and projects of the last few weeks. Cal still spent a lot of time at his family estate, working in the laboratory maintained by his great-aunt, but recently he’d come here more often, as eager as the rest of them to finally be going once again.
The library was big enough to accommodate a dozen people easily, but Cal and Lok were the only ones there when Dana and Benzan entered. The four of them gathered around a round wooden table under a pair of slanted windows that let in twin rays of light from the cloudy day outside.
Cal was the first to speak. “Benzan?”
“I’m ready to depart,” the tiefling responded.
Cal nodded. “Then we are all prepared?” He briefly met each of their gazes in turn, long enough to register their nods. “The only question, then, is how we will proceed. Dana has stated her desire to visit Iriaebor first, to see her father.”
“And the full moon is only a few days away. At the Temple of the Moon in the city, I can attempt another commune.”
Cal’s expression darkened briefly. “We’ll need all the guidance we can get. Our combined researches have not yielded much in the way of clues. We were able to get some information on certain known Demon Princes, and we can only hope that it is enough for us to ask the right questions of the Goddess. Assuming there is more we can learn from that source—I mean no offense, Dana, but these beings are virtually gods themselves, in their own dark realms, and divinely provided lore can often be murky when it involves the private affairs of such entities.”
Dana nodded, they’d been over all of this before. One thing was sure, though, they’d exhausted all of the options available to them in Waterdeep, and the City of Splendors was a place where virtually anything was available for sale, even information, if you had the right price.
“Of course, arcane magic hasn’t been of any more help,” Cal said. “But this side-trip to Iriaebor may prove fruitful for another reason. It’s not far from Berdusk, where Twilight Hall is located. The followers of the Harp are renown for their command of obscure facts and legends thought lost. Cylyria Dragonbreast, in particular, is one of the most knowledgeable bards in the West, and she is only one of many agents who come from all over the Realms. We’ve done favors for the Harpers in the past, and they might prove willing to help us. And even if they do not have ready answers, we can try our luck at the temple of Deneir in the city, which is located adjacent to the Hall.”
None of the responded immediately. All of them were ready to do something, to replace this inactivity with decisive action, but all were experienced enough to know that they were grasping at straws, with no concrete leads to guide their path.
“All right then, let’s do this,” Benzan finally said.
“It will take many days to reach Iriaebor,” Lok commented. “Were you thinking of taking ship down to Baldur’s Gate, and then heading upriver to the city?”
Cal and Dana exchanged a glance. “Actually, we think we’ve found a much more... expeditious... means of travel. We mean to be in Iriaebor by the end of the day, if not within the hour.”
Benzan shot Cal a wary look. “Uh oh, you don’t mean...”
“It’s safe,” Dana insisted. “I will take us someplace that I know intimately, so much so that the chance of mishap is nearly nil.”
“Yeah, but we’re very good at beating the odds on that sort of thing. Besides, how can you take all of us? I thought that even a powerful mage—or cleric—could take only a small amount of excess weight with them.”
Cal interjected, “I believe that I may have the answer for that. How do you feel about cats?”
Benzan raised an eyebrow, suspicion in his eyes.
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 7
Dana grimaced as she slipped and the tunic she’d been repairing fell off her lap onto the floor. She quickly picked it up and saw that last three lines of thread that she’d just sewn had torn. She forced herself to take a deep breath before starting again. The tunic was really past its days, and she already had more than enough new clothes to replace it, but she wanted something to do with her hands, something to focus on other than... So far, it wasn’t helping much.
From the doorway behind her, Benzan watched her, watched the movements of her hands as they moved across the cloth, admired the muscular curves of her neck and shoulders, the way her hair drew back casually into the cord she’d wrapped around the extra length to keep it out of the way. She normally kept her hair trimmed short, but lately she’d let it grow out some, enough to fall almost to her shoulders when she didn’t keep it tied back.
His breath caught in his throat as he admired her. By the gods, she was beautiful, even in her current state of casual disarray. She wasn’t an alabaster model of beauty such as noble society held up as an ideal, but a strong, capable woman whose skills had been tested in the chaos of battle, the trials of spirit that the four of them had faced in the last years. The strain of those tests showed in her face, but to him they only bolstered the appeal that she held for him.
Not for the first time, he wondered why in the world she had fallen in love with him, of all people. Not that he was going to question that good fortune.
He hadn’t made a sound, but suddenly she turned and looked up at him. She smiled, but there was tension there, as well.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He came into the room, toward the chair where she was sitting. “Looks like that patient is already too far gone to save,” he said, indicating the worn tunic.
“Yeah. Well.” She looked down at her lap for a moment, and while her head came up again quickly, he sensed the turmoil within her. “Did you see... did you see Elly?”
“Yes. Thank you, for telling me.”
“You had a right to know.”
The chair wasn’t really big enough for two, but he leaned on one padded arm and reached down to touch the side of her face. “I love you. It’s still strange to hear myself say it, sometimes... but it’s true.”
Her eyes shone. “I love you too.” Then she snorted. “But don’t think this means that I’m going to take it easy on you. Somebody’s got to help keep you in line, and alive—gods know that Cal and Lok alone can’t do it.”
He smiled, and took her hand, pulling her up to him. For a moment they held each other, then melted into a long kiss.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him, when the finally pulled back.
“Later. Have you talked to the others yet?”
“Just briefly. They’re down in the library, waiting for you to get back.”
“Let’s go talk to them, then.”
The two of them left the room and went down the back stairs to the comfortably furnished library that adjoined the storerooms at the back of the inn. Although Alera had offered to let them stay at the Calloran home as long as they wished, Cal had finally insisted that they take rooms in the city. The inn where they’d spent the last two tendays, “The Laughing Dragon,” was a sprawling three-story extravagance that took up half a city block. It was expensive, of course, but the four of them had more than enough money even after their numerous purchases and projects of the last few weeks. Cal still spent a lot of time at his family estate, working in the laboratory maintained by his great-aunt, but recently he’d come here more often, as eager as the rest of them to finally be going once again.
The library was big enough to accommodate a dozen people easily, but Cal and Lok were the only ones there when Dana and Benzan entered. The four of them gathered around a round wooden table under a pair of slanted windows that let in twin rays of light from the cloudy day outside.
Cal was the first to speak. “Benzan?”
“I’m ready to depart,” the tiefling responded.
Cal nodded. “Then we are all prepared?” He briefly met each of their gazes in turn, long enough to register their nods. “The only question, then, is how we will proceed. Dana has stated her desire to visit Iriaebor first, to see her father.”
“And the full moon is only a few days away. At the Temple of the Moon in the city, I can attempt another commune.”
Cal’s expression darkened briefly. “We’ll need all the guidance we can get. Our combined researches have not yielded much in the way of clues. We were able to get some information on certain known Demon Princes, and we can only hope that it is enough for us to ask the right questions of the Goddess. Assuming there is more we can learn from that source—I mean no offense, Dana, but these beings are virtually gods themselves, in their own dark realms, and divinely provided lore can often be murky when it involves the private affairs of such entities.”
Dana nodded, they’d been over all of this before. One thing was sure, though, they’d exhausted all of the options available to them in Waterdeep, and the City of Splendors was a place where virtually anything was available for sale, even information, if you had the right price.
“Of course, arcane magic hasn’t been of any more help,” Cal said. “But this side-trip to Iriaebor may prove fruitful for another reason. It’s not far from Berdusk, where Twilight Hall is located. The followers of the Harp are renown for their command of obscure facts and legends thought lost. Cylyria Dragonbreast, in particular, is one of the most knowledgeable bards in the West, and she is only one of many agents who come from all over the Realms. We’ve done favors for the Harpers in the past, and they might prove willing to help us. And even if they do not have ready answers, we can try our luck at the temple of Deneir in the city, which is located adjacent to the Hall.”
None of the responded immediately. All of them were ready to do something, to replace this inactivity with decisive action, but all were experienced enough to know that they were grasping at straws, with no concrete leads to guide their path.
“All right then, let’s do this,” Benzan finally said.
“It will take many days to reach Iriaebor,” Lok commented. “Were you thinking of taking ship down to Baldur’s Gate, and then heading upriver to the city?”
Cal and Dana exchanged a glance. “Actually, we think we’ve found a much more... expeditious... means of travel. We mean to be in Iriaebor by the end of the day, if not within the hour.”
Benzan shot Cal a wary look. “Uh oh, you don’t mean...”
“It’s safe,” Dana insisted. “I will take us someplace that I know intimately, so much so that the chance of mishap is nearly nil.”
“Yeah, but we’re very good at beating the odds on that sort of thing. Besides, how can you take all of us? I thought that even a powerful mage—or cleric—could take only a small amount of excess weight with them.”
Cal interjected, “I believe that I may have the answer for that. How do you feel about cats?”
Benzan raised an eyebrow, suspicion in his eyes.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Book VII, Part 8
The place had the look of a forest glade, although a closer look would reveal that such an impression was just a carefully cultivated illusion. In reality, the small grove was just an island within an urban core, the many tall towers of Iriaebor visible through the gaps of the trees in all directions. A few nice extra touches had been added to give the area within the ring of trees an extra sylvan touch; a small spring bubbled down from a carefully crafted pile of heavy volcanic rocks into a pool a man’s height across, and neatly tended patches of wildflowers spread out in a ring around the edges of the pool. A few stone benches had been placed covertly among the trees and undergrowth, designed to blend in with the naturalness of their surroundings. A faint path of well-worn stones was just visible among the grass, leading out beyond the grove.
The place was quiet, although the sounds of the surrounding city could be made out if one listened for them. But the emptiness of the small glade was broken as a shimmering formed in the air, beside the pool. The wisps of light gathered quickly into a human-sized form, and then resolved into not one, but two people that appeared as the glow faded back into nothingness.
Dana and Cal looked around at their new surroundings. Each of them carried a small cat, Dana’s a pure black and Cal’s white with streaks of gray in its fur.
“I’ve got to get that spell,” Cal said with wonder. “Very convenient way to travel.” He placed the white cat down, and it walked a few steps away before turning to face him, apparently nonplussed at the change in its surroundings.
“Yes, but not without its risks,” Dana said. The black cat meowed loudly at her, but she held onto it for a moment longer. She stroked its head, but it continued its efforts to break free from her embrace.
Cal cast a spell, and the white cat’s form began to shift and shimmer, growing until the cat was gone, and Lok was there in its place. The genasi stretched, checking each of his weapons out of habit.
“I think I prefer that to the umber hulk,” he said.
The black cat meowed again. Dana finally let it go, and it jumped down to face Cal, looking up at him expectantly.
“Oh, wait, I forgot to memorize a second dispel,” the gnome said. The cat hissed at him menacingly, but then Cal laughed, the others quickly joining in. “All right, I couldn’t resist. Just a moment.”
Cal readied his spell again, and a few moments later Benzan was standing there beside Lok.
“All right, next time you get to be the cat,” the tiefling insisted.
“My polymorph spell only works on others,” Cal said, still grinning. “Besides, you are a lot heavier than I am—better not to strain the limits of Dana’s teleport.”
“So where are we?” the tiefling said, looking around at their surroundings.
“We are on a corner of my family’s estate,” Dana explained. “I spent a lot of time here, as a child. I thought it would be better to teleport us here, instead of startling someone by appearing suddenly in the house.”
“It’s pretty,” Lok noted. “Peaceful.”
But Dana frowned, lost in thoughts of her own. She led them along the path, out onto the rest of the estate.
The grounds were of considerable size, and had the look of a well-tended park. The estate house was just visible atop a low rise behind a row of trees, and beyond that the spires of the city rose in a jumbled medley. Some of the towers seemed unfinished, with jagged tops and occasionally scaffolding making their shapes less clearly defined.
“Lot of towers here,” Lok commented.
“Yes, it’s almost a sport,” Dana commented, as she led them in the direction of the manor. “The noble families like to play games of ‘who’s the biggest,’ when they’re not plotting how to take over each others’ lands and influence. Bron, the leader of the council that governs the city, has barely been able to keep them all in check.”
“Someone’s coming,” Benzan warned. They halted and could all hear it, the sounds of multiple people approaching quickly through the growth that filled the spaces between the garden paths.
They suddenly burst into view from two sides, ahead of them, seven armed and armored men, each carrying a loaded crossbow or a heavy spear at the ready. “Hold!” one of them shouted. “You are trespassing on private land...”
He trailed off as Dana stepped forward, and his eyes widened in surprised recognition. “Lady Ilgarten! Why... I mean, how did you...”
“It’s good to see that the estate is well protected still, Edra,” she said, already walking past the surprised guardsmen, her friends trailing along behind. The guardsman just stood there for a moment, but he quickly rallied and hurried after her, running a curious gaze over her companions as he did so.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Dana preempted him. “Is my father at home, Edra?”
“Yes, m’Lady,” the guardsman replied. “But he’s meeting with an important...”
“I won’t interrupt him,” she replied, “but I’ll want to speak to him as soon as he’s free. And I’ll need rooms prepared for my friends.”
The guardsman, clearly overwhelmed for all that he was nearly twice her age, finally just nodded. He gestured toward his men, who quickly disappeared back down one of the side paths that wound around toward the front of the house. Dana took them the back way, and Edra followed along with them.
Her pace had been faster than a walk, not quite a run, but as they reached the building, she hesitated. The place was truly a mansion, two stories tall and several hundred paces in length, fashioned from huge blocks of white stone. Great attention to detail had been shown in the moldings and other decorations that ran along the edges of the structure. A patio in red tile spread out behind the structure, with several ornate windowed doors providing access. The path led right up to the edge of that patio, directly adjacent to one of those doors.
“It’s been a long time, m’Lady,” Edra said, softly.
“Indeed,” she said, taking a deep breath. She moved toward the door, but the guardsman was there in an instant to open it for her.
The door opened onto a compact landing. A wide entry to her right led obviously to the kitchen, from which the smells and noises of food cooking drifted. Directly ahead a narrow staircase led upstairs, and to her left an open arch opened onto a long hallway that accessed the rest of the house.
Her companions were silent, respecting their friend’s homecoming. Dana felt old emotions come crashing back into her, old memories of this place and the loves and losses she had felt here. Outwardly it looked as though nothing had changed, but the place felt... quieter, more somber than she had remembered.
“I’ll tell Maribel you’re here, have rooms made up for your friends,” Edra said, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Sorry,” she said, turning toward her companions. “It’s just...”
“We understand,” Cal said, pressing her hand briefly. She looked briefly at Benzan, who stood there, a distracted expression on his face.
“Well, come on. Let me take you to the parlor, where we can rest and get something to eat while we’re waiting.”
She led them into the hallway and then toward the front of the house. They entered the foyer, which made the rest of the house that they had seen look almost provincial. The foyer was floored in smooth marble blocks, with a chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling high above them. A spiral staircase wide enough for four men to ascend at once wound up to another landing on the second floor. Double doors, each with a half-dozen panes of flawless glass set into them, opened out into the front yard, flanked by more windows to either side.
Dana directed them toward a side arch that opened onto a comfortably apportioned sitting room, but before they could enter, another door on the far end of the foyer opened and a man stepped out.
He was a tall, well-built man, well into middle age but showing no sign that advancing years were hindering him. Dana instantly recognized him as a warrior, both by the way that he carried himself and by the hard edge to his dark brown eyes. He wore a functional tunic that bore the crest of the city on the breast, and carried no weapons other than a small dagger with a gilded hilt.
For a moment, a chill came over her as she locked gazes with the stranger, and so she didn’t immediately realize that another figure had come out of the room behind the stranger.
“Dana...”
Her father’s voice shattered the connection between her and the strange warrior, and she shifted her gaze to the man standing beside him. He was everything that the stranger was not—clearly showing his years on his balding and wrinkled face, his body bulging with more than a little extra weight. Artemos Ilgarten wore garments that looked simple but on closer examination showed their cost and quality, and which Dana knew probably cost more than an average peasant farmer made in a year.
For a moment father and daughter just stood there looking at each other in surprise, and then belatedly they came forward and embraced. Dana saw that her father’s movements were strained, hesitant, and when she grasped him she could feel the weakness that gripped the man whom she could never remember as anything but strong. Tears filled her eyes despite herself, when she pulled back from him.
“My daughter, come home. Ah, excuse me. My guest... Dana, I don’t believe you’ve met the defender of our fair city, lord of our meager legions. General, my daughter, Dana.”
The soldier bowed. “A pleasure, Lady Ilgarten. I am pleased to see you return to Irieabor, to brighten our city once again with your presence.”
Artemos nodded, and turned toward the door. “Thank you again, General Goran. I will think on your words today, I promise. I am sure that the Council will be receptive to your proposal, given everything that’s happened.”
“Thank you, Councilor.” Goran shook Artemos’s hand, and as he turned to depart, shot another evaluating gaze over Dana and her companions—who had faded into the background during the exchange. With another smile and inclination of his head toward Dana, he left via the front doors.
For a moment Artemos looked pensive, but then he smiled and turned back to his daughter and her friends. “I’m sorry, Dana,” he said, embracing her again. “Times have been... difficult, of late.” He shifted his gaze to the others. “And you have brought guests, new friends.”
Dana introduced them, and the elder Ilgarten nodded to each in response to their greetings. His eyes were like scales as he evaluated each of them in turn, and they lingered longest on Benzan, who looked like he wanted to activate his ring of shadows. Finally, after all three had been introduced, he brought a smile back to his face and said, “Where are my manners? Your friends, guests in my house—and where are my people? Maribel!”
At his call, a thick-set middle-aged woman appeared in the far doorway. “Why, if it isn’t Dana, come back home again,” she drawled, her voice thick with an eastern accent—Chessentan, perhaps. “Welcome home, m’Lady.”
Artemos looked at her again, and she saw that his gaze lingered on the spear in her hand, and the moon mote symbol that dangled from her neck. Suddenly, she thought, he looked very, very tired.
“Rest yourselves,” he said to all of them, “and wash the dust of the road off of your feet. It is not long to the noon meal, and we can talk more then, about what brings you to Irieabor.”
And with that, he left them. Dana took a halting step after him, as if to follow, but he quickly crossed back to the door of the study, closing it decisively behind him.
“Come,” Maribel said to them. “I will show you to your rooms.”
The place had the look of a forest glade, although a closer look would reveal that such an impression was just a carefully cultivated illusion. In reality, the small grove was just an island within an urban core, the many tall towers of Iriaebor visible through the gaps of the trees in all directions. A few nice extra touches had been added to give the area within the ring of trees an extra sylvan touch; a small spring bubbled down from a carefully crafted pile of heavy volcanic rocks into a pool a man’s height across, and neatly tended patches of wildflowers spread out in a ring around the edges of the pool. A few stone benches had been placed covertly among the trees and undergrowth, designed to blend in with the naturalness of their surroundings. A faint path of well-worn stones was just visible among the grass, leading out beyond the grove.
The place was quiet, although the sounds of the surrounding city could be made out if one listened for them. But the emptiness of the small glade was broken as a shimmering formed in the air, beside the pool. The wisps of light gathered quickly into a human-sized form, and then resolved into not one, but two people that appeared as the glow faded back into nothingness.
Dana and Cal looked around at their new surroundings. Each of them carried a small cat, Dana’s a pure black and Cal’s white with streaks of gray in its fur.
“I’ve got to get that spell,” Cal said with wonder. “Very convenient way to travel.” He placed the white cat down, and it walked a few steps away before turning to face him, apparently nonplussed at the change in its surroundings.
“Yes, but not without its risks,” Dana said. The black cat meowed loudly at her, but she held onto it for a moment longer. She stroked its head, but it continued its efforts to break free from her embrace.
Cal cast a spell, and the white cat’s form began to shift and shimmer, growing until the cat was gone, and Lok was there in its place. The genasi stretched, checking each of his weapons out of habit.
“I think I prefer that to the umber hulk,” he said.
The black cat meowed again. Dana finally let it go, and it jumped down to face Cal, looking up at him expectantly.
“Oh, wait, I forgot to memorize a second dispel,” the gnome said. The cat hissed at him menacingly, but then Cal laughed, the others quickly joining in. “All right, I couldn’t resist. Just a moment.”
Cal readied his spell again, and a few moments later Benzan was standing there beside Lok.
“All right, next time you get to be the cat,” the tiefling insisted.
“My polymorph spell only works on others,” Cal said, still grinning. “Besides, you are a lot heavier than I am—better not to strain the limits of Dana’s teleport.”
“So where are we?” the tiefling said, looking around at their surroundings.
“We are on a corner of my family’s estate,” Dana explained. “I spent a lot of time here, as a child. I thought it would be better to teleport us here, instead of startling someone by appearing suddenly in the house.”
“It’s pretty,” Lok noted. “Peaceful.”
But Dana frowned, lost in thoughts of her own. She led them along the path, out onto the rest of the estate.
The grounds were of considerable size, and had the look of a well-tended park. The estate house was just visible atop a low rise behind a row of trees, and beyond that the spires of the city rose in a jumbled medley. Some of the towers seemed unfinished, with jagged tops and occasionally scaffolding making their shapes less clearly defined.
“Lot of towers here,” Lok commented.
“Yes, it’s almost a sport,” Dana commented, as she led them in the direction of the manor. “The noble families like to play games of ‘who’s the biggest,’ when they’re not plotting how to take over each others’ lands and influence. Bron, the leader of the council that governs the city, has barely been able to keep them all in check.”
“Someone’s coming,” Benzan warned. They halted and could all hear it, the sounds of multiple people approaching quickly through the growth that filled the spaces between the garden paths.
They suddenly burst into view from two sides, ahead of them, seven armed and armored men, each carrying a loaded crossbow or a heavy spear at the ready. “Hold!” one of them shouted. “You are trespassing on private land...”
He trailed off as Dana stepped forward, and his eyes widened in surprised recognition. “Lady Ilgarten! Why... I mean, how did you...”
“It’s good to see that the estate is well protected still, Edra,” she said, already walking past the surprised guardsmen, her friends trailing along behind. The guardsman just stood there for a moment, but he quickly rallied and hurried after her, running a curious gaze over her companions as he did so.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Dana preempted him. “Is my father at home, Edra?”
“Yes, m’Lady,” the guardsman replied. “But he’s meeting with an important...”
“I won’t interrupt him,” she replied, “but I’ll want to speak to him as soon as he’s free. And I’ll need rooms prepared for my friends.”
The guardsman, clearly overwhelmed for all that he was nearly twice her age, finally just nodded. He gestured toward his men, who quickly disappeared back down one of the side paths that wound around toward the front of the house. Dana took them the back way, and Edra followed along with them.
Her pace had been faster than a walk, not quite a run, but as they reached the building, she hesitated. The place was truly a mansion, two stories tall and several hundred paces in length, fashioned from huge blocks of white stone. Great attention to detail had been shown in the moldings and other decorations that ran along the edges of the structure. A patio in red tile spread out behind the structure, with several ornate windowed doors providing access. The path led right up to the edge of that patio, directly adjacent to one of those doors.
“It’s been a long time, m’Lady,” Edra said, softly.
“Indeed,” she said, taking a deep breath. She moved toward the door, but the guardsman was there in an instant to open it for her.
The door opened onto a compact landing. A wide entry to her right led obviously to the kitchen, from which the smells and noises of food cooking drifted. Directly ahead a narrow staircase led upstairs, and to her left an open arch opened onto a long hallway that accessed the rest of the house.
Her companions were silent, respecting their friend’s homecoming. Dana felt old emotions come crashing back into her, old memories of this place and the loves and losses she had felt here. Outwardly it looked as though nothing had changed, but the place felt... quieter, more somber than she had remembered.
“I’ll tell Maribel you’re here, have rooms made up for your friends,” Edra said, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Sorry,” she said, turning toward her companions. “It’s just...”
“We understand,” Cal said, pressing her hand briefly. She looked briefly at Benzan, who stood there, a distracted expression on his face.
“Well, come on. Let me take you to the parlor, where we can rest and get something to eat while we’re waiting.”
She led them into the hallway and then toward the front of the house. They entered the foyer, which made the rest of the house that they had seen look almost provincial. The foyer was floored in smooth marble blocks, with a chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling high above them. A spiral staircase wide enough for four men to ascend at once wound up to another landing on the second floor. Double doors, each with a half-dozen panes of flawless glass set into them, opened out into the front yard, flanked by more windows to either side.
Dana directed them toward a side arch that opened onto a comfortably apportioned sitting room, but before they could enter, another door on the far end of the foyer opened and a man stepped out.
He was a tall, well-built man, well into middle age but showing no sign that advancing years were hindering him. Dana instantly recognized him as a warrior, both by the way that he carried himself and by the hard edge to his dark brown eyes. He wore a functional tunic that bore the crest of the city on the breast, and carried no weapons other than a small dagger with a gilded hilt.
For a moment, a chill came over her as she locked gazes with the stranger, and so she didn’t immediately realize that another figure had come out of the room behind the stranger.
“Dana...”
Her father’s voice shattered the connection between her and the strange warrior, and she shifted her gaze to the man standing beside him. He was everything that the stranger was not—clearly showing his years on his balding and wrinkled face, his body bulging with more than a little extra weight. Artemos Ilgarten wore garments that looked simple but on closer examination showed their cost and quality, and which Dana knew probably cost more than an average peasant farmer made in a year.
For a moment father and daughter just stood there looking at each other in surprise, and then belatedly they came forward and embraced. Dana saw that her father’s movements were strained, hesitant, and when she grasped him she could feel the weakness that gripped the man whom she could never remember as anything but strong. Tears filled her eyes despite herself, when she pulled back from him.
“My daughter, come home. Ah, excuse me. My guest... Dana, I don’t believe you’ve met the defender of our fair city, lord of our meager legions. General, my daughter, Dana.”
The soldier bowed. “A pleasure, Lady Ilgarten. I am pleased to see you return to Irieabor, to brighten our city once again with your presence.”
Artemos nodded, and turned toward the door. “Thank you again, General Goran. I will think on your words today, I promise. I am sure that the Council will be receptive to your proposal, given everything that’s happened.”
“Thank you, Councilor.” Goran shook Artemos’s hand, and as he turned to depart, shot another evaluating gaze over Dana and her companions—who had faded into the background during the exchange. With another smile and inclination of his head toward Dana, he left via the front doors.
For a moment Artemos looked pensive, but then he smiled and turned back to his daughter and her friends. “I’m sorry, Dana,” he said, embracing her again. “Times have been... difficult, of late.” He shifted his gaze to the others. “And you have brought guests, new friends.”
Dana introduced them, and the elder Ilgarten nodded to each in response to their greetings. His eyes were like scales as he evaluated each of them in turn, and they lingered longest on Benzan, who looked like he wanted to activate his ring of shadows. Finally, after all three had been introduced, he brought a smile back to his face and said, “Where are my manners? Your friends, guests in my house—and where are my people? Maribel!”
At his call, a thick-set middle-aged woman appeared in the far doorway. “Why, if it isn’t Dana, come back home again,” she drawled, her voice thick with an eastern accent—Chessentan, perhaps. “Welcome home, m’Lady.”
Artemos looked at her again, and she saw that his gaze lingered on the spear in her hand, and the moon mote symbol that dangled from her neck. Suddenly, she thought, he looked very, very tired.
“Rest yourselves,” he said to all of them, “and wash the dust of the road off of your feet. It is not long to the noon meal, and we can talk more then, about what brings you to Irieabor.”
And with that, he left them. Dana took a halting step after him, as if to follow, but he quickly crossed back to the door of the study, closing it decisively behind him.
“Come,” Maribel said to them. “I will show you to your rooms.”
Black Bard
First Post
Character Development...
Lazy, please don't worry about focusing too much on CD... It's wonderful!! And you have a special knack for this, I must say...
I'm anxious to see our heroes dealing with the Harpers, especially Gorath and his fellow... but I have a feeling that this encounter will still take some time... precious time...
Anyway, congratulations!!
Lazy, please don't worry about focusing too much on CD... It's wonderful!! And you have a special knack for this, I must say...
I'm anxious to see our heroes dealing with the Harpers, especially Gorath and his fellow... but I have a feeling that this encounter will still take some time... precious time...
Anyway, congratulations!!
