Garçon? Have I stolen Jack's name now?
"It's been long since I was a garçon, friend," Samen says with a faint smile and a curt bow, "but I do seem to be following Jack quite a bit these days. What kind of story would you like?"
Tell me a scary one, Garçon! Jaa-Isanta isn’t scary at all and it has been a while since I’ve had a proper fright!!
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Gate narrows his eyes, and rubs his aching shoulder..
”A scary one, you say? I’ve got one you might enjoy, scary because it’s true. Once, there was a boy, more like a young man really, who lived in a small house out by the woods. He was pretty good at hunting, this young man, sold furs in town, and kept chickens. Sometimes he sold the eggs too. One day he started noticing the eggs were going missing, but he lived alone, not many folks around. He couldn’t imagine anyone was stealing these eggs. But perhaps some animal was sneaking in from the woods nearby. So he put an alarm on the door of the chicken coop one evening after the chickens had gone to roost. And wouldn’t you know, not even an hour later, the alarm goes off. The young man runs out to the coop and finds the door ajar. He peeks his head in, not sure what to find, but all the chickens are safe, all the eggs seem safe. But then he notices there’s one too many roosters sleeping in the coop! And no sooner does he notice this, then one of the roosters turns into a fox and darts out the door and into the woods!”
”Now, I don’t know about you, but where I come from, where this young man comes from, roosters don’t turn into foxes. So, this young man was totally taken by surprise. He knew this was no normal fox or rooster, or whichever may be the case. The next day, when he went into town to sell some furs he asked, discreetly, about what he’d seen. Most folks had no idea. Thought he was crazy, perhaps drunk, for this young man did have a taste for alcohol. But, one wizened wizard suspected he knew what the creature was. Can you guess? It was a Galluvix. Part rooster, part fox, and all cunning fey.”
”Well, the more the young man learned about Galluvixes, the more he felt he’d been given a boon. Galluvixes can lay magic eggs, you see, and this young man wanted one. He hunted the Galluvix night and day, sometimes catching glimpses here and there of a fox or a rooster or both at once, running off into the woods. But never could he catch it. And this went on for quite some time. Unlit one day, alone in the woods after the sun had set oddly fast, the young man heard a terrible sound, like two animals fighting and howling and screaming. Armed with his crossbow, he ran to the scene only to find a bloody mess of feathers and coppery fur. The Galluvix had been found, and eaten by a larger animal! But before the young man could even contemplate that thought, a huge wolf leapt upon him!
”And, well, the wolf gobbled him up right up, and that was the end of the young man. Which is so often the way these stories end, I have to say. So, let that be a lesson to you about something. Don’t go into the woods hoping to get magic eggs from a fox.”
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Vartiomies shivers. Never have I met a Floofy who wove such a terrible tale! That poor wolf, he just wanted to eat his dinner in peace. I hope that greedy man learned his lesson!
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She takes a breath, leans forward in the chair, and begins her tale:
You asked what this place is. It’s a prison, obviously. I am the latest jailer. This is a true tale as well. One that involves the Rabbit King.
"Long ago, what you call the Haunted Forest was a sunny and warm place. I'm sure you know that isn't the case now: it's cold and gloomy, and the heart of the forest is covered in eternal winter. The evergreens sleep under blankets of snow, and the fey hide in the gloom.
When the forest was warm, there was a fey prince named Jaa-Isanta. He was the The Rabbit Prince's best friend, and together they hopped along the secret forest paths, napped in the dewy flower beds, and ate soft timothy hay in the sunshine.
Then the Witch Queen paid our realm a visit. I'm sure you know, the Witch Queen likes the cold and sadness and is very powerful, and travels to many far places on her whim. She was just passing through our little country. But she decided she didn't like the forest as it was. So ensnared some of the fey with her own wiles.
Jaa-Isanta, the Rabbit Prince's best friend, was brought before her.
He cried when she plunged her icicle-nails into his chests and tore out his lovely hot heart. Into the hole, she packed the rotting heart of a forest stag. She gave Jaa-Isanta's dead body an icicle kiss that stole his last breath, and along with it all his beautiful songs and all his love of soft timothy hay, and dewy flower beds, and friends like the Rabbit Prince. She breathed into him nothing but love for herself, the Witch Queen. What opened its eyes was not a "him" anymore, but an "it."
She let Jaa-Isanta go. It made the forest cold. It took away the soft timothy hay, the dewy flower beds, and the sunshine forever. More and more forest-keepers were stolen away, given to the Witch Queen.
That was long ago. We caught Jaa-Isanta and killed most of the others who the Witch Queen changed.
We have saved Jaa-Isanta, hoping it will tell us why the Witch Queen hates this place, and why she wants the forest cold and dead. Is she coming back? Is it a gift for one of her heralds, or daughters? Jaa-Isanta won't tell us the secrets. Not yet. Someday, it will. Then I will destroy it.
Giggling over nicknames turns rapidly to deadly focus. The boy says, "This witchy queen reminds me of our Lumi’s future husband’s father’s wife. The queen du hour, in other words. I’ve wondered if the huntress meant to save my friend from wedding bonds that put her in the hag’s cold grip. Or if our queen is not the evil that her temp’rament suggests. "
The cheercreturns like sun breaking through a passing cloud. "But you wanted stories. Garçon, what delicacy have you for us?"
Vartiomies clap her hands and hops to the floor; snow crystals tumble from her fox-fur hood. More stories? It's like a sleepover with friends; I'll get us some snacks from my room! She scurries to the door at the other end of the room and pulls it open — beyond, a thin stairway descends into darkness.
She turns her head. Keep an eye on Jaa-Isanta for a few minutes!
She slams the door on the way out.
The thing in the cage grins at the closed door, and you hear a an eerie and high-pitched whining, like two planes of ice slipping against one another.
Jaa-Isanta is laughing.
"You think the ice would make a great escape, o blackener of faerie hearts. Twould be your death for certain should you try to leave those bounds. Would you still wish to try your luck?" The boy points out a weakened part of the cage to his much bigger companions.
Jaa-Isanta steps back for a moment and then, in perfect common: You will be screaming like a rabbit soon, Jack.
The Cold rider casts a spell. Magical hailstones pound down against your bodies. Most of the room is now covered in slick ice, making it difficult to move around.
.
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Klaytal shivers as the hail strikes unprotected skin.
Speaking in Sylvan he shouts, "Jaa-Isanta, those bars protect you from us, and not the other way around. You have already shown yourself to be weak, and your imprisonment here is just a temporary reprieve until you finally melt under the eons and uncover the truth hiding inside you."
Grunting, the boy retorts, "You lack the benefit of burly friends, you wretch. Don't worry, though. We'll leave you breathing for our new found friend."
He begins to sing again As he does so, fey dust appears around the annoying popsicle .
The cold rider seems blinded.
Samen gives his allies feint partner and then teleports into the cage with the monster.
Gate teleports into the cage as well and attempts to pull the blind rider out of the corner.
”Get out here!”
Gate successfully repositions the Cold rider, but only a minimum distance.
He can teleport in rounds.
Jaa-Isanta rams its icy antlers against the weakened bar, trying to free itself!
Its horns smash the icy bar!
It moves along the outside edge. Come here, Jack. I can smell you…
His icy dead eyes lock onto A Boy, and he grins.
Whole party is up
Once in position, he swings wildly, trying to drive the creature away from its prey.
The boy holds his ground, singing aloud a limmerick about the fey king who lost his clothes in a bet with a fox.
Samen hits when the Cold Rider attempts to move away. He doesn't provoke an AOO, but misses on the subsequent attack.
Gate moves over and attempts to grapple the rider through the prison bars!
”Keep away from our Jack!”
Gate is on the other side of the bars. I'll give him cover (and vice versa).
Gate can't 5' step as it's all difficult terrain, so he still provokes.
The Cold Rider steps out of flank and full attacks a Boy.
Hello, Jack!
Both attacks hit the lightly armored “Jack,” even with Gate's menacing stance.
The wounds opened by Samen and Gate begin heal. Not all the damage goes through on A Boy.
Gate = -18HP
A Boy = -32HP
Klaytal = -18 HP
Samen = -18 HP
Rider = -17HP
Whole party's up
This boy—this Jack—narrows his eyes in hatred at the icy hearted fey. He changes his tune and steps through soace into the opposite cage.
Samen shifts his sword grip suddenly, changing the angle of attack and hoping to catch the creature off-guard.
Klaytal stabs in with his cold iron rapier!
Hoping to take advantage of his menacing stance, Gate full attacks through the bars.
Samen's feint succeeds, but even so he misses his heavily-armored foe.
Klaytal skewers his rapier through a crack in the Rider's ice-crusted armor!
Cold rider= -45HP
Gate also strikes true, even though cover!
Cold rider= -69HP
Jaa-Isanta screams as Klaytal stabs him, but his wounds continue to heal!
Watch from that cage while I rip your friends' hearts out, Jack!
He 5-foot steps back, away from the ones pummeling him.
Noting that A Boy tried to help Samen, Jaa-Isanta tries to hurt the closest thing that "Jack" seems to care about, laughing as he swings the glaive.
Both strikes hit true on Samen.
The second strikes home, but the cold damage doesn't hurt Samen.
Round 3
Gate = -18HP
A Boy = -32HP
Klaytal = -18 HP
Samen = -36 HP
Rider = -61HP
Gotta keep between it and Jack.
Drops of blood freezing as they drip from his wounds onto the icy floor, Samen remembers Jack's words and steps through nothingness into a position with his back to Jack's sheltering cage. Catching Gate's eye, he holds his attack until his ally can move into an advantageous position.
"You cannot kill what can’t be found. These lads are quick and then they’re gone."
Jack sings and sings and his wounds knit together.
Gate and Klaytal are still up!
Klaytal vanishes, and moves into a position where he can flank with gate. He prepares to strike!
Being invisible, he hits!
Gate also vanishes, moves into a flank with Klaytal, and punches the rider with a dagger.
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Spiderwebs crackle out from the point of Gate's punching dagger; shards of ice tumble away from Jaa-Isanta's body when it falls to the ground. It lays still in a pool of corrupted water, and everyone catches their breath for a moment.
Then, its cold eyes snap open, and it gores Samen with its horns of black ice!
While Gate, Samen, and Klaytal cut at the regenerating body Jaa-Isanta clutches the bars of A Boy's cage and whispers:
She won't let me die, Jack! I'll be right here for a long time, thinking of all the things I'm going to do to you when I get out. One day you'll beg me to take you to my Queen, Jack.
Laughing quietly to itself, Jaa-Isanta falls again. Its head rests on the floor, face staring into A Boy's cell.
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The door opens. Vartiomies gasps and drops her bindle bag (which is has been hastily labeled in watercolor with the word SNACKS).
JAA-ISANTA! WHY WON'T YOU… JUST BE…
The room seems to quake when she stomps her boot. Shooting baleful looks at A Boy, the cold rider obediently crawls back into its cage.
And Garçon is hurt! And Jack too! Did it scare you, Jack? Is that why you're hiding in the other cage?
Her arm disappears into the bindle bag… and then her head and torso do, too. Boots kick freely in the air before she somersaults back out with a potion in each hand. She feeds one Samen and one to Jack. Jack's is fizzy, and tastes like candied fig. Garçon's is syrupy, and tastes like rosewater and saffron.
Floofy and Spaghetti, unhurt! I'm sure it was all quite heroic, with Floofy running in circles yapping, and Spaghetti spinning in the air and flopping, all thwarting the wicked Jaa-Isanta's plans!
As she rambles, Vartiomies drags the tattered chair over to the opening of the Jaa-Isanta's cage and tosses the bindle bag onto the seat before hopping. Reaching again into the SNACKS bag, she produces a massive wad of sugary dates and shoves the whole thing into her mouth.
Yoo oww meh amupher sphorie. Firsh, whaa happenph?
Jack changes his tune once more and pops out of the cage. "You think me scared? The captor of the Rabbit Prince? This friendless snowman thinks himself a match for such as me... But pray, foul wretch, say more about your queen."
Samen, bleeding heavily, takes a cautious sip of the potion. Surprised by the elegant taste he stares at it for a moment, but as his wounds begin to clear he gratefully guzzles the rest. When he's done his wounds are significantly improved, though some patches of frostbitten skin remain.
"Thank you, friend. That's a dangerous creature you have here."
Your welcome, Garçon!
Vartiomies winks. Of course you aren't scared, Jack. That's a very cunning cage you've dropped yourself into! I see your plan now.
She pulls a funnel cake from the SNACKS bag and wipes a figer, goopy with syrup, across the old chair's armrest. She sighs. Well, Jaa-Isanta won't tell you any more. It tends to get grumpy after a beating. Could last a hundred, two hundred years. Idly waving the funnel cake to the beat of her words, she continues. Jaa-Isanta does what Jaa-Isanta does… plotting over the eons, killing its keepers, defiling minds, eating its guards, et cetera, et cetera. She takes a bite. Womph eaph Varphummeees.
Anyways, let's tell another story! How about one with a lesson, so we can all learn and thereby instruct Jaa-Isanta.
She offers you the bindle bag.
Vartiomies leans forward in the chair. The room's illumination dims dramatically, and she cups a piece of old chair-fuzz with Light cast on it, illuminating her face in the dark as she begins her tale…
I will tell you the story of the . It begins with a lovely, good queen sleeping on her couch…
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Once there was a good Klavakian Queen, and she was napping on her couch of golden threads.
Three fairies passed by her window, and thought to reward the Good Queen for being so good.
"Never shall a man harm this beautiful queen," said the first fairy.
"Never shall anything offend this beautiful queen" said the second fairy.
But the third fairy muttered something dark and strtange under his breath, and no one heard what he said.
Nine months later, the queen gave birth to her first son — but he was a pig. She survived this strange birth because of the first fairy's gift, that no male could ever harm her. The King wanted to drown the pig in the lake, but the Good Queen, who could never be offended because of the second fairy's gift, begged the King to keep their son alive and raise him as a prince.
And so it was that the good Queen suckled the pig, and dressed him princely raiment. He learned to talk like a man, and to act like a man, and to wear a crown almost like a prince. But the pig was truly happiest when he squealed in the sty and befouled his royal vestments, or when he pranced about the palace and lef leave muddy prints all over the floor and priceless heirlooms. Sometimes, the pig acted nice, but it was all a lie and at the end of the day he would take great delight in ruining every nice thing he could see with his beady little eyes.
One day, the spoiled pig saw a girl who pleased him and demanded she marry him. This girl, who was the oldest of three daughters and also generous and dutiful, at first refused. But her father was greedy, and urged her to say "yes" so their family could inherit a kingdom. So the girl sadly said "yes," if only to please her greedy father and help her family.
On their wedding night, when it came time to consummate their vows, the daughter was disgusted by the prince, who was covered in filth and prancing and dancing about, and nuzzling her with his wet piggy nose. She shoved him away. The prince grew angry at the insult, and gored her to death in their very own wedding bed, using his sharp hooves.
The good Queen was sad that her son murdered the innocent girl, but could not stay so for long because of the second fairy's gift.
Soon the pig wanted to marry the second sister, the middle daughter, of the same greedy father. This daughter was kind and dutiful. The good queen hesitated, but the pig threatened to ruin everything in the palace forever if he could not have the second daughter as a wife. So the Queen, because of the pig's threats and because of the second fairy's gift, approached the greedy father again. The same thing happened to the second daughter as to the first.
And so pig demanded the third, last, and most beautiful daughter of the greedy father. But this daughter, like her father, was ugly inside and even more greedy than her greedy father. This daughter accepted the marriage proposal enthusiastically, and she and the pig consummated their marriage.
Happily they lived in the palace for a long time. The greedy, beautiful daughter had always loved gold more than anything, but over time she grew to love her bed covered in straw and mud even more than running her fingers through piles of gold coins. She also grew to love her fine clothes being stained by wet filth, so her servants stopped cleaning her fine princess gowns, and all the golden and silver and carmine and rainbow silks became the same muck brown. She grew to love the smell of unwashed hair too, and her platinum tresses slowly turned into putrid ropes.
And so the greedy princess slowly came to hate the castle, and all the fine comforts that she once coveted. She and her pig-prince moved up North, away from Lake Morsain. During this time, the good queen had a second son who was kind and generous and even-handed.
Meanwhile, the pig and the greedy princess settled in the Herdlands, and built the most grand pigsty that the world had ever seen. They wallowed and wriggled in the cold mud together, at last, in their kingdom.
And they lived happily ever after.
Jack picks a lovely treat from the bag. He finds his gaze drawn to Samen as he looks at it with confused delight.
“The pumpkin man, the pumpkin man. With gummy head and cracker arms. Ye’ll gnaw ’is bones once ye bite ’is ’ead, the Jack O’Man.” The woman set the the indulgence before the boy and his smaller brother. Their mother. The boy beams and giggles as she sings. He bites off the head and hands the sweet cookie body to his brother.
He breaks off the head and hands it to Samen, singing as he does so. Curiosity claims his brow with a furrow.
He sings around his chomping as he eats the skeleton. A new experience to be sure.
Vartiomies leans in close, peering at Jack's treat and watching him giggle. And is the Pig King a comedic tale, Jack? Do you think you can put a swine in sovereign's clothes, to make a princely prince who weds whomever he wants?
She pauses. At any rate, Floofy's piteous wolf chilled me to the bone. I enjoyed that tale. Reaching over, she produces an orange star of saffron toffee from the bag. It's your turn, now: Spaghetti, do you have a twisty and turny tale to tell? A fantasy of manners, Garçon? A comedy or a tragedy, O Giggling One?
She looks at each of you in turn. After all, it is only fair to trade stories. I have told two, and have heard only one. She pauses to consider. I will make it more interesting. Whoever tells the best story of all can keep my bag of magical SNACKS as a token of my gratitude. Breaking off small pieces of toffee and popping them into her mouth, Vartiomies leans back in the chair and waits for her story.
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"What of the poor, ragged, charcoal burner who bested the Raven King and all his magic?" Samen picks neatly through the bag before picking out a piece of marzipan shaped like a raven volant. "I'm sure you know of the Raven King, also called the King in the North, the Black King, in some places John Uskglass. A mighty king he is, and some say the greatest of magicians.
"Well, one day our king went hunting in his forest, astride his favorite horse and accompanied by all manner of hound and companion. Quick on the trail of a stag the whole party came riding through a clearing where lived a poor, raggedy charcoal burner, a small pig named Blakeman his only companion. Their horses trampled the man's charcoal and turned his grass into mud, their hounds devoured his dinner, and the whole party rode off in pursuit--all but the King, for you see Blakeman, in his panic, had run underfoot of the King's mount and the horse could not seem to get clear of it. In his annoyance, the king seized the pig, shook it into the shape of a salmon, and flung it into a nearby stream where it swam off. 'Why have you done this to me?' the man cried, distressed at the loss of his only friend, the destruction of his work, and the theft of his dinner. The king did not answer, merely turned his mount and rode away.
"The man, furious and hungry (for remember the hounds had eaten his dinner), walked to town to visit the temple and beg for something to eat. The priest, a kind man with much sympathy for the poor, asked the man what had happened. The charcoal-burner is too upset in his retelling to remember any details of his tormentor, and so of course omits any detail that might hint to the priest that it was the Raven King. The priest tells the man that he shall pray to the gods that his fortune improves, and gives the man a lovely wheel of cheese to feed him. 'No! Ask the gods to drop a mountain on him! It's the least he deserves!' 'No, no, we must learn to forgive. Take your cheese and go home. I'm sure the gods will take pity on you.'
"The gods must have been listening, however, for just at that moment the King fell from his horse into a small, wet gully. Try as he might by strength or by magic, the King was unable to lift himself from that gully and he spent a long, cold night contemplating his ill luck. Finally, at dawn, he was released. He found his horse and began his journey home. Passing once more through the glade (though he did not recognize it, on account of the choas of his first visit), the King spied a lovely wedge of cheese toasting above a crackling fire. Now, the Raven King was for the most part a wise and just man, but few can resist the smell of toasting cheese, especially after a long cold night in a gully. When the charcoal-burner returned from gathering wood, he found the King licking the last of the cheese from his fingers as he mounted his horse. He called out the King 'why did you steal my cheese? Haven't you tormented me enough?' But the King did not hear the man, and rode off down the trail.
"Enraged, the man stomped back to the priest, once again demanding that the gods strike down his foe. 'He won't even speak to me, yet he persists in tormenting me! Tell the gods to drop a mountain on his head!' 'I could not do that', the priest denied. 'We must forgive our enemies. Perhaps the man is mute and cannot speak? Here, have some more cheese, and perhaps some bread to go with it' The man was sure he'd seen the King speaking to his horse, but still he returned home. Once again, however, it seems the gods were listening. Upon returning to his holdings, the King's horse turned to him and began to lecture in clear speech on the sin of theft and the moral depravity of those who would steal from the poor. The Kings faithful hounds joined in the debate, telling allegories and fables to illustrate the point. Trying to escape the lecture, the King locked himself in the tower, but even there the cold stones of the wall continued the assault and he spent a long night indeed without any sleep.
"'Perhaps the man in the glade is a powerful wizard, trying to force something from the crown?' thought the king. 'I do not know why he would choose to live that way, but we magicians are an eccentric lot, after all. I shall go speak with him.'
"Warily, the King asks when he arrives 'what is it you want of me?' The man, still angry, and still completely unaware of to whom he speaks, laughs. 'Ha! Ask my pardon for turning poor Blakeman into a fish!' Through gritted teeth the King asks his pardon. 'Is there anything else you want?' With a triumphant grin, the man demands the King repair all the hurts done to him. The Raven King waves his hand and in a snap Blakeman comes trotting up from the stream, the grass grows lush once again, and the charcoal pile is neatly stacked and repaired. The smell of toasted cheese begins to waft from the nearby fire. 'Anything else?' The charcoal burner stops to consider, then summoning up his courage he names the greatest riches he can conceive of: 'I want another pig!' 'Very well' says the King, 'I shall give you another pig on one condition: tell no-one who gave it to you.' The man laughs, 'how can I, when I don't know who you are! Why,' the man's eyes narrow, 'who are you?' Beginning to realize his miscalculation, the King responded quickly, 'no one.' He snapped his fingers and, as another pig, the perfect replica of Blakeman, trotted up from the stream, he mounted his horse and rode off back to his castle. Though his retainers always reminded him of what good hunting was to be found in that forest, the King did not return for many a year, until he was sure the old charcoal-burner was dead and gone."
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"The story of the Pig King... it cannot be true! That swigging, swindling swine was the most sour sovereign I've seen in my travels. Happily ever after..."
Klaytal reaches into the bag, and audible crinkling fills the room as he grasps something wrapped in cellophane. Extracting the item for what appears to be at least three feet, he curiously unwraps, sniffs, and bites. "Ha! Chewy toffee! Delerercerous!"
After listening to Samen's story, Klaytal attempts to spin his own yarn:
There once was a kingdom beset on all sides by war. The queen was growing old, and barely able to leave her chambers to sit on the throne, let alone stride at the forefront of her armies. Gazing out her window, all she sees are burning fires in the distance and refugees rushing to the safety of the city. A star twinkles in the sky, a vibrant blue. The wind picks up, and its whispers seem to say, "To save what means the most, you must sacrifice that which is most precious."
Steeling herself for what must be done to save her people, the queen slowly turns and begins to walk down her staircase. 45 minutes later, her attendant rushes two-thirds up the stairs. My Queen! I thought I heard something, you know you should ring the bell if you require assistance! Let me help you!"
She leans forward and whispers to the attendant, whose eyes grow wide. He turns and sprints down the stairs. At dawn, she arrives at the nursery where her grandchildren are already playing together. A slight grimace betrays her emotions.
Gathering her grandchildren, she leads them up to the steps, where her armorers suit them up in freshly made plate mail. The growing crowd whispers, "...already lost all three of her children" and "If only our end would be as quick."
The gates open, and the children stride forth, weapons in tow. As the hordes rush foward, the queen begins to sob. The wind picks up, bringing dark clouds and howling off the walls of the castle. As her tears fall, massive gouts of water and lightning strike from the sky, destroying the rushing attackers.
The people give a great cheer, and the children grow to become heroes and leaders, remembering that greatness sometimes requires sacrifice.
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What a villainous charcoal burner you have imagined, Garçon! The poor king's horse was entangled by what was clearly a pig of below average aptitude — at least a fish can swim. And everyone of culture knows that one must always share one's burnt cheese. Vartiomies pulls a brick of fried sharp cheddar from the bag. It's still smoking, and she tosses it between her hands while it cools. Ow ow ow…… and then forced to listen to a horse and a dog's oration… ow… horror!
She turns. Do you hear that, Jaa-Isanta? Maybe we should bring a horse down here for you.
You've met the Pig King, Spaghetti? Yes, he's quite happy living his piggy life with his wife, who turned into a real pig long ago. Didn't you know, pigs are happy when they're grumpy? He must have been in an especially good mood when you met him.
She gnaws on the cheddar and considers Spaghetti's tale. Yesph, saphreephiphe. Varphummeees knoph awl aphout iph.
…but Spaghetti, I wonder how the poor hordes felt. No one ever seems to consider their feelings. Do you think hordes can feel?
"Samen, that is one unlucky pig. I wonder.. if the tale is true, where is the Raven King in the North now? He better have learned his lesson, for winter is coming."
Klaytal turns to Vartiomies. "I hope they felt every blast, and turned into meatballs."
At least when you know someone's dead, you can move on.
"Samen, that is one unlucky pig. I wonder.. if the tale is true, where is the Raven King in the North now? He better have learned his lesson, for winter is coming."
"Some say he's gone to his holdings in faerie. Others, to his keep in a strange country on the far side of hell. Wherever he is, he hasn't been seen in these parts in many a year."
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The boy listens to Samen’s tale of the Raven King. His eyes go blank as he unconsciously mouths some of the words.
Kindly spoke the father to his younger son, a tale of laborers like him. He gave a tender look to the older boy sitting nearby.
The boy doesn’t hear Klaytal and Vartiomies chatter as he slumps against iron bars. Eventually he begins to speak.
"There was a boy called Jack by some. His father owned the local mill. A kindly man, but strict—exacting to his elder son, this jack-o-tales."
The boy reaches into the bag once more, drawing out a marzipan hare.
”This lad, he had a friend named Peter Troubletail, whom only Jack could see. He whispered mischief in Jack’s war. Enticements with a darker end. At first ‘twas mirth. A wicked prank against his little brother’s nemesis. Crusades against imaginary dragons in the woods.
"One summer's day there came a herald from the barony. The baron hath proclaimed, he said, a clearing of the woods. He aimed to see his fortunes rise to that of duke or even king. A pile of gold upon a thousand thousand stumps."
He bites decisively into the tree, discarding its base.
”The herald slept within the village in while woodsmen cursed their lot. Jack’s father, foreman of their crew, avowed, ‘May this accursed lord go &@$€ himself. He breaks a pact that’s kept us safe from the Unseelie Court. I’ll not abide our doom. And yet, how worse to break a vassal’s oath?
”T’was true, the baron’s distant ancestor had promised to the fey: We’ll harvest just enough to save your arbor home from flames. No more. And so it was.”
The boy draws another treat: A translucent waxen skull filled with bright, gray-pink goo. He punctures the nose and sucks the contents out.
”Wee Jack, he barely heard his father swear ere Troubletail weighed in. ‘I have a trick your pa’ll surely love. A note to send our herald that’ll surely get the baron’s goat. Write what you wish in ink I’ve left beneath your bed. Take care, though, not to touch it ere you furl the scroll. Oh hoa what fun we’ll have!
"And so the boy, he bade the township’s lord to &@$£ himself and signed his family’s name. He rolled the note and snuck inside the herald’s stable. With letter tucked within the saddle back, he left with cheer.
”Next day, he bade farewell unto the herald and his horse. He marched most proudly too the house in time to sup. ’Dear papa, won’t you be so proud? I’ve played a trick to put our baron in his place.’ He gave a wink unto his baby bruv and waited for his father’s praise, which never came.
”Instead, his father raged upon his elder son, who fled before his wrath into the darkness of the forest night…”
He pauses, stricken by the story that spilled from his mouth. With a look into Samen’s eyes, he says, ”His brother never knew what brought about this end, nor understood the fate his bruv had met.”
So entranced is Vartiomies by Jack’s tale, her cheddar grows cold. What a lucky baron, to read the truth! So rarely royal ones receive such gifts. Did he — did he — she rolls around on the chair, giggling — &@$€ himself?
When the laughter subsides Vartiomies lays upside down on the chair, squinting at the block of cheese that she now holds high in the air. Which brother fared the worse? The outcast gifted knowledge, or the sheltered gifted ignorance? She idly puffs her cheeks and blows a tiny gout of flame onto the cheese, re-toasting it.