Well, at least it's dry in here the minotaur says to no one in particular as he shifts his large frame on the hard stone floor. Straw and hay lay scattered about, large piles obscuring the floor, while in other areas a single straw is found upon the field stone floor.
A large window looks out to the west, and from its vantage point, one can see the entirety of the city of Solanthus. Three large walls surround this central vantage point that is the main castle and keep of Solanthus, this Firgaar castle. The original castle walls rise up like a solid, stout chest plate. Standing 20 feet tall, and 20 feet thick, this large square wall seperates the main castle from the oldest parts of the city. Inside these walls, the offices of administration are found. Tax offices, produce management, the central, though small, home office of the guildmasters, along with the manor home of the Knight of Solamnia who is appointed lead protector of the city.
Beyond the castle walls, you have the old city. covering a larger area around the castle, this community is what has formed the bedrock upon which has supported the castle Firgaar for the last 600+ years. Blacksmith shops peal out the high noted hammer blows of manufacturing, the sounds blending together into a constant ring that even the most downhearted Dwarf would find appealing. Intermixed with these shops are other shops, butchers, mercantile exchange shops, carpenters and framing shops, all this and more populate the inner city. The walls that protect this inner community stand 30 feet tall, and are only 15 feet thick, interlocking cut blocks set with mortar. upon its battlements few guards patrol this tower, yet their presence is known.
beyond this wall stands new city. a variety of homes and shops, while up against the third and final wall large warehouses holding stocks and trade goods, material components for fabrication into final good that'll be shipped near and far throughout Ansalon for sale. The homes that comprise the largest collection of buildings in the outer city are sturdily built, laid out in neat rows, lending respect to the city planner who had the foresight to properly design this newer part of the community. While it is hard to be heard from this high up, from this far away, a large marketplace stands open to the public near the northern gate off to the viewers right. Colorful banners wave in the sky, and equally colorful shades hang from the timber poles that denote the front of the more permanent traders. Men and women move from stall to stall, purchasing good.
the third and final wall stands 40 feet tall. Large blocks of granite, hewn from the mines to the south by the Kayolin dwarves, and built by same dwarves. A visible treaty to the community Solanthus from the dwarves, a treaty of cooperation in trade, and of protecting each other should war come to the area. A treaty that was fulfilled by the same dwarves and when the humans needed aide during the War of the Lance.
Far beyond this final wall, beyond this room, one can see the farm fields, each separated by narrow black and grey lines, but in reality they are small stone walls that the farmers have deposited from their fields onto the property lines. The breeze ripples and bends the various crops, causing a flow to start from the north and go to the south, one large consistent bend as the wind pushes the crop over. Like a large rock thrown into a pond, the ripple moves across the landscape.
The kender had it the worst. a small manacle, sized for a kender, wrapped around his left wrist and riveted in place. Lined with leather, it hugged his wrist like a familial hug, firm, present, persistent. A long length of chain, 6 feet of it, connected the manacle to an equally large stone that rested between his tiny feet. But that wasn't the worst of it. His bags were taken from him! his Hoopack! Even his father's mother's cousin's best friend's third child's twice removed fork of finery was taken! So, for the moment, he did what no kender had ever done in the history of Krynn.
He sat still, and stayed quiet.
well, the accusation comes from the same old man as the last eight times. We felt it prudent that, while we follow procedure, we at least make it more comfortable for you all, as this will have the same result the guard, Jorin, says as he closes the door after delivering food. Keeps harping about a missing...pocket witch? swath? switch?
Watch everyone (except the kender, which again, amazes everyone) says at the same time, annoyance clear upon their voices and mannerism.
yes, pocket watch. whatever that isJorin says in a baffled manner.
For the last two weeks, every few days, you have been arrested and summoned before the magistrate for the crime of stealing this mans pocket device. You have no idea what this is, but it is very important to this old guy.
You will have been just about getting ready to leave Solanthus, to continue on with your journey, your travels, your adventures, and instead the local watch comes walking in the door and arresting you.
thankfully these arrests occur in Solanthus, and not in some other backwater part of krynn, where justice is slow, and treatment of criminals is indifferent at best. Here, prisoners are treated with respect and dignity, but still, there is a modicum of aloofness that is inherent in all interactions between law enforcement and criminal.
The hearing before the magistrate, a Dero Squireson, are the same.
the old man, wearing shabby grey robes, a white beard that descends to his hips, a floppy grey hat that seems to cause the old man much grief as it does relief; this old man stands before the magistrate and denounces everyone in the room as thieves, criminals, why, they are so degenerate that they make Takhisis look like a cuddly kitten!
The man stood before the magistrate, and the defendants, and loudly proclaimed the theft of his pocket watch! They did sonny! they crept into my room while i slept and then the took off, making such a racket! woke me up! You know, us older gents need our sleep. and yet woke me up they did. such disrespectful youths! and when they left, i searched myself, and found i was missing this! the old man would stand there, and remove from his pocket a small gold device. Attached to it was length of fine golden chain that disappeared from sight in his pocket. The old man would hold this up to his face and look hard at it.
That device. that pocket watch sir dero would ask, a long, apologetic look at the defendants.
yes AHHH IM BLIND! the man shouts loudly as his grey hat slips down his brow and covers his eyes.
A guard would come help the old man, lifting his hat to above his head, and setting it to the side on the barrister.
Wait! i can see! Blessed Mishkal and her healing powers i have been saved from my blindness! You must be a cleric of hers! A healer! A man of great power as yourself shouldn't be here tending to these criminal-
enough sir! dero would signal by hammering a block of wood with a wooden hammer, a gavel as its called in these parts.
You have wasted enough of our time today. the defendants are free to go Dero would signal the watchman to release everyone.
Free to go? what? but... the old man would look at his device. Ah, too early. im too early. Bother. need to wind this thing more often
you all went your separate ways, aside from the cursory greeting that societal norms dictate that you should exchange in this type of situation, and then left.
only to be reunited with everyone again a week later, where the same situation played out.
standing before the magistrate, the old man decrying you to as worse than evil incarnate itself, the old man holding his pocket watch, and then you being released.
not too much longer before the magistrate calls for you. If you need anything, feel free to holler. Im just down the hall. jorin says, nodding to everyone and walking away.
Sheska Kune leans against the rough stone wall of the room, looking down at her brown hands and spinning a silver ring around on her right index finger. She's dressed in men's clothing: a loose, light red buttoned shirt and long, white breeches which she somehow manages to keep inordinately clean. Except for her lush lips, her brown face looks boyish, too, under her short-trimmed black hair.
Looking up, Sheska says to everyone in a gentle but firm voice somewhat strangely accented, "I used to think I was a patient woman, but this is pushing it."
Wandering over to the wide window, she takes in a deep breath of air. It's almost worth it; I've just wanted to travel here for so long, she thinks.
She spins around again and asks, "Who's up to visiting the market, after all is said and done?"
Hey look this fancy pants guy has a feather in his hat. Oh look its got pin stuck in it. . . I should get that for him otherwise his feather won't flare about dramatically.
They really got it tight this time. They are really getting into the role this week. When that 'guard' kicked me it really hurt. You have to love that commitment to the theater. I am gonna loosen it.
Bander stands up and hands the manacle to the nearest guard not waiting for them to get to him. He had 'found' a hat pin on his way in and was able to make his restraint more comfortable. Now that he was announced free to go. He saw no reason to keep the prop on his wrist.
Bander looks up at Sheska puzzled at her annoyance. This poor woman doesn't get this new experimental theature. "Are you not enjoying these shows? I mean the old guy . . . I mean he is pretty funny. It's so cool they involve the audience. I can't believe I have been picked 8 times. I mean a lot of places I go Kender are treated pretty badly but is pretty cool." He looks at his hand realizing that he is holding a long hat pin. "Huh." He sticks the pin his outfit. "Market. That could be interesting."
Bander looks over at the old man. "Excuse me um . . . what was his name? Ah 'Old Guy'." He waves and walks over, "I really enjoy your performances. Your skill as an actor really quite good. One thing does anyone really buy that a Kender makes noise sneaking around I mean seriously. I mean I wander around all the time around people and they hardly ever know I am there unless we are talking like this." He sees the pocket watch, "So what is that device? You know the prop you are using." He indicates the pocket watch by pointing at it.
[dice=Sleight of Hand]1d20+10
Hey look this fancy pants guy has a feather in his hat. Oh look its got pin stuck in it. . . I should get that for him otherwise his feather won't flare about dramatically.
[dice=Disable Device]1d20+10
They really got it tight this time. They are really getting into the role this week. When that 'guard' kicked me it really hurt. You have to love that commitment to the theater. I am gonna loosen it.
Bander stands up and hands the manacle to the nearest guard not waiting for them to get to him. He had 'found' a hat pin on his way in and was able to make his restraint more comfortable. Now that he was announced free to go. He saw no reason to keep the prop on his wrist.
Bander looks up at Sheska puzzled at her annoyance. This poor woman doesn't get this new experimental theature. "Are you not enjoying these shows? I mean the old guy . . . I mean he is pretty funny. It's so cool they involve the audience. I can't believe I have been picked 8 times. I mean a lot of places I go Kender are treated pretty badly but is pretty cool." He looks at his hand realizing that he is holding a long hat pin. "Huh." He sticks the pin his outfit. "Market. That could be interesting."
Bander looks over at the old man. "Excuse me um . . . what was his name? Ah 'Old Guy'." He waves and walks over, "I really enjoy your performances. Your skill as an actor really quite good. One thing does anyone really buy that a Kender makes noise sneaking around I mean seriously. I mean I wander around all the time around people and they hardly ever know I am there unless we are talking like this." He sees the pocket watch, "So what is that device? You know the prop you are using." He indicates the pocket watch by pointing at it.
[dice=Sleight of Hand]1d20+10
Hey look this fancy pants guy has a feather in his hat. Oh look its got pin stuck in it. . . I should get that for him otherwise his feather won't flare about dramatically.
[dice=Disable Device]1d20+10
They really got it tight this time. They are really getting into the role this week. When that 'guard' kicked me it really hurt. You have to love that commitment to the theater. I am gonna loosen it.
Bander stands up and hands the manacle to the nearest guard not waiting for them to get to him. He had 'found' a hat pin on his way in and was able to make his restraint more comfortable. Now that he was announced free to go. He saw no reason to keep the prop on his wrist.
Bander looks up at Sheska puzzled at her annoyance. This poor woman doesn't get this new experimental theature. "Are you not enjoying these shows? I mean the old guy . . . I mean he is pretty funny. It's so cool they involve the audience. I can't believe I have been picked 8 times. I mean a lot of places I go Kender are treated pretty badly but is pretty cool." He looks at his hand realizing that he is holding a long hat pin. "Huh." He sticks the pin his outfit. "Market. That could be interesting."
Bander looks over at the old man. "Excuse me um . . . what was his name? Ah 'Old Guy'." He waves and walks over, "I really enjoy your performances. Your skill as an actor really quite good. One thing does anyone really buy that a Kender makes noise sneaking around I mean seriously. I mean I wander around all the time around people and they hardly ever know I am there unless we are talking like this." He sees the pocket watch, "So what is that device? You know the prop you are using." He indicates the pocket watch by pointing at it.
Its clear from the way the Kender is reacting he is thoroughly enjoying himself. From his comments he seems to think that this is some sort of improv experience theater.
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Standing silently in the corner with crossed arms, covered in a flowing dress a shawl slung around the face and head partly was a beautiful elven woman, several steps apart from the male elf with whom she had spoken only a few words in their language so far.
Apparently they know each other.
Her face was hard to read, somewhere between a pleasant view, possibly sulking, a bit insecure, arrogant and loosing her patience.
Difficult to say with elves....
Everything had gone so well before. Like the mothers asked her, she had shadowed Duatha from their home and Qualinesti lands all the way to this human city - Solanthus it was? - without him ever noticing. She had even taken out a pair of thugs before they got to him at night.
Then in the city, everything went wrong. First she had to find a place to stay where she could watch him, that had already been a lot of trouble and cost her dearly, in gold coin and humiliation.
Next she had been rounded up suddenly by a host of guards and thrown into a cell with this lot, accused to steal some idiotic human item from a senile old man.
It had been very awkward the first time when Duatha saw her and she had to make up what she was doing here, and every time since then.
She wasn't sure whether he saw through it or not. She was a good liar and her charms certainly helped...but...she should have talked with the mothers about a cover up story. Probably it was pretty obvious.
A quest to learn about human gardening and how they built their cities...stupid idea. As if any Qualinosti would care. And then sent here above all people.
Yet, he might think it real, albeit for different reasons, more as a punitive expedition for her. Certainly felt like it more and more.
The city was narrow, loud, dirty and overcrowded, the humans intrusive.
This situation was the wind blow severing the leave from the tree.
In fact, such a repeated wind blow that her tree was running out of leaves.
Why would anyone arrest so many people in such short notice again and again, over the accusations of an old man, which had already proven to be pointless?
The kender did not make anything better, nor the human magician.
Although visiting a market didn't sound that bad, certainly there were interesting goods to be discovered.
The Elven male shrugs at the suggestion of the human female, "It would be the first time we were arrested in the marketplace. A nice change of pace I suppose".
For an elf, he is not particularly handsome. If not for his almond eyes and clearly Elven ears, you would mistake him for a human, taller than the tallest elf any had ever seen and as muscular as a human male warrior. His clothing is also rather drab for an Elf, he is either poor or trying to pretend to be poor. Truly it is hard to get a read on exactly what he is all about.
He pauses, weighing what to say next. He considers asking this lot what their connection is to this old human, he certainly has none that he is aware of. Then he scowls and takes the conversation in a different direction, "I am sure if I go to the market Aeleni will follow. Isn't that right dear cousin?" He does not turn to look at the Elven female though he does peer at her from the periphery of his vision eyes locked on the Kender.
A dark-haired dwarf stands rigid, arms crossed, his face a thundercloud. Through gritted teeth, he growls, "The Market? Oh no, not me. Me, I'm going to follow that daft old man home and put some fear in him."
He buries his fists in his beard and tugs it in frustration. "Six jobs. This nonsense has cost me six jobs. Every time I line something up, the next thing you know, along comes the watch and I'm in here again. You know what the word on the street is now? That I'm 'unreliable'. That I'm a 'liability'. In a matter of weeks that old idiot has ruined a reputation I spent years building."
"At this rate, I'm going to have to rejoin the army." He grimaces, "That's if I can ever get out of the city."
"I am inclined to agree with Torin here" - Zak had one hand leaning on the wall right next to the window, and he simply stared outside, looking over Solanthus - "I have been trying to keep calm in spite of the absurdity of it all, but this is not fun anymore" - he spoke calmly as usual, but those who knew him a little better could sense the tension in his voice, and knew what the bristling of his brown fur meant.
Bander looks around for the guard that normally carries his rock and 'politely' kicks him if he talks during the experimental artistic theater. Seeing that his escort has moved on Bander speaks up, "So let me get this straight. You guys are mad? I mean I figured a few of you were part of the acting troupe putting all this together. I mean I was so honored to be picked this many times."
It was nothing but perplexing.
She had being doing nothing but offering the healing arts granted upon her and yet she has being called a witch, a thief and other titles.
Being as Law abiding as she is, she offered no resistance as she was once again taken for investigation. It was a good thing that this time, she had being taken in for questioning enough times that that the watch, bailiffs and even the guards knew her on sight. Was that even a good thing ?????????
By Mishakel's grace, what was happening here!!!
The woman keeps a regal bearing even as her eyes expressed her bewilderment at once more being released for yet another non inconsequential trial.
"I do not know any of you but as the Gods or Fate has seen fit to bring us all together perhaps this is a sign that we were meant to travel together." She speaks, her voice melodic and pleasing to the ears.
"How many times has this being already. It's always being us. Does that Old man have something for us?" she raises her hands expressively as her gesture envelops everyone else.
Bander rolls his eyes as his words go unresponded to.
"I think this is 8." Knowing the others have ignored or rejected his idea that this is a delightful act of theater, "Why do you think we are being chosen."
At the paladin's speculation, Sheska can't help but snort. Then she holds up her hands. "Don't get me wrong. Traveling together would be a delight. You are all certainly more interesting than the drunks at the inn I've been staying at--in between incarcerations."
Her brown eyes shift over to the Qualenesti. "I would even get a chance to practice my Elvish," she says in that same language. Sheska manages the correct grammar, though her somewhat harsh accent shows through.
"I just don't believe that perversity is entirely the realm of the divine." Sheska's brown-eyed gaze drops to Bander, and she gives a slight smile. "Or the theater, for that matter."
As his cousin mulls over her response, Duatha responds to the others.
"I have a specific path I am traveling, there is no fate but what we make of it, and I will make my own.
Perhaps the Kender is right though, perhaps this is a play put on but for the amusement of this Old Human. After this trial, I am fine with our travel paths leading us right out of Solanthus and onto our originally intended destinations. If you need business Dwarf, I can hire you for protection.
But these events do beg the question, if this Human does find some perverse pleasure in this, how does he know of us and how are we connected to him?
Before the War, I had no contact with Humans. After the War, my contact was limited to those allowed into our lands, and they are still few. This Old Man, I have never seen before".
He turns to the Human Female,
He turns back to the group and grimaces and then sighs, "I am Duatha Sunshear of Qualinesti. At least what males are left of my House after the War".
"So let me get this straight. You guys are mad? I mean I figured a few of you were part of the acting troupe putting all this together. I mean I was so honored to be picked this many times."
"Damn right I am mad" - Zak grunts at Bander, turning from the window to the kender - "I do not like being a pawn for anyone, and this is for sure some sort of twisted game" - he adds, then listens to the comments from the others.
"Well, of one thing I guess we can be sure - this is no coincidence" - the massive minotaur shrugs - "Not after eight times"
After a pause he continues - "I think I have caught the names from some of you - mine is Zak"
Duatha nods to the Minotaur, then, out of character, asks him a personal question, "I confess that this is the first time I've laid my eyes on one of your kind. How did you end up here rather than in your homelands?"
Bander smirks with a sort of surprised curiosity. "Bander, Bander Drunkensquirrel."
Bander looks over to Duatha, "You too. I have never seen a mine-tar either. But your an elf . . . I figured you had the time to travel around more. Oh you also didn't share your name." He shrugs figuring that probably didn't mean much.
"Well met, Duatha Sunshear, Zak, Bander Drunkensquirrel. Where are my manners? I am Sheska Kune, most recently from Palanthas, though I admit to traveling a bit."
She holds up her hand and says, "Irthsimane." A tiny green flame springs up from her palm.
"I am a conjurer of some small magics, but I have yet to take the Test."
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Bander looks over to Duatha, "You too. I have never seen a mine-tar either. But your an elf . . . I figured you had the time to travel around more. Oh you also didn't share your name." He shrugs figuring that probably didn't mean much.
"Oh but I did little one, you were too busy gazing at your... lack of a backpack to notice.
Though I am older than most Humans and Kender, the world did not allow for free travel in my youth. Ansalon was a dark, dangerous place even before the War".
He raises an eyebrow at Sheska but says nothing further.
Duatha nods to the Minotaur, then, out of character, asks him a personal question, "I confess that this is the first time I've laid my eyes on one of your kind. How did you end up here rather than in your homelands?"
”Then we are on equal footing” - Kaz nods back at the elf - ”I had never seen one of your kind either, until our ship made landfall in Caergoth. From there to here it was a short travel, and I wanted to know the city I have heard much about” - he adds - ”If I understood correctly, you are also away from your homeland? Why is that?”
”Then we are on equal footing” - Kaz nods back at the elf - ”I had never seen one of your kind either, until our ship made landfall in Caergoth. From there to here it was a short travel, and I wanted to know the city I have heard much about” - he adds - ”If I understood correctly, you are also away from your homeland? Why is that?”
Duatha narrows his eyes at the question and cocks his head signaling that he is considering how to answer the question though in truth he is considering whether to answer the question. A quick glance at his cousin prolongs his contemplation. Though he considers remaining quiet he knows of this race despite never having seen one before. They are worse with honor than the Knights. The Knights are taught honor, these creatures embody it. To be deceptive now or fail to answer will create a rift that, if he is to travel even briefly with this one, may cause larger problems than answering the question will.
"My House was all but destroyed in the War. I am from a line of Wizards. I denied that legacy as a youth. While its existence intrigued me, I was rebellious and instead sought the way of the blade. We as a long lived race do not pursue Mastery the same way the shorter lived races do. Thus, my training even in the martial arts had significant pauses where I spent more time reading, or walking or lounging than I did practicing.
When the War arrived my Grandfather and Father and most of the other males in my family fought against the Dragonarmies. When the fight first arrived at our borders of course it was not known that these were Dragon armies.
Perhaps an oversized force of humans or goblins or both seeking to plunder our lands, yet again. Even with rumors of War in the North it was not believed that this threat was, well, what it turned out to be.
My relatives perished fighting the Dragonarmies. They died so that many of the People would live. Still, they died.
In exile I found something... a spark. That spark led me back home after the War to seek out magic. But unlike my Grandfather and Father, I will become it. Mastery. That is what is required. That is what I seek, Mastery of the Art. But, if I am to attain this, I must first pass the Test of High Sorcery or be hunted like a renegade. The Test can only be taken at a Tower and that is why I left the People".
There, the truth, or at least the truth without the entire story. He watches the others, especially his cousin to gauge their reactions.
Bander's normal intense curiosity turned to a look of sympathy.
After a moment Bander looks up, "I wonder what the test is like. I mean it sounds hard but they never say what the test is. I wonder what is in the towers. I mean so many magic peoples all in one place I bet they have some really neat things there."
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Bander's normal intense curiosity turned to a look of sympathy.
After a moment Bander looks up, "I wonder what the test is like. I mean it sounds hard but they never say what the test is. I wonder what is in the towers. I mean so many magic peoples all in one place I bet they have some really neat things there."
Duatha blinks and then coughs, for a brief second a look of horror passes over his face, "Thank you Bander. I believe you just solved the riddle as to why the Towers are so very difficult to enter.
My understanding is that there is no one Test. Each Test reflects the participant. Failure is death so one must not approach the Test lightly".
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Bander smiled proudly he look at the others, "I solved a riddle."
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Zak pauses momentarily at Duatha's reply, almost as if he had been expecting something different, then he nods - "I am sorry for your loss, and commend your Father and Grandfather for their honorable sacrifice" - he grunts - "May their deeds be reminded, and their spirits guide you in the trials ahead"
"Oh none of this is a coincidence. I don't know what it is though. A scam of some sort? Is this harassment supposed to be leveraged against us? For my part, I'd never seen that old man before. I don't know what I ever did to catch his ire."
"At this point, it might as well be called fate. I could even believe that crazy old man been touched by some cruel god of mischief, because this all has to be some kind of joke. Not that I'm laughing."
At Duatha's offer of employment, Torin raises an eyebrow. "Protection? Aye, I've done that kind of work before. What do you need protecting from? Heading into trouble, or trouble heading your way?"
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"At this point, it might as well be called fate. I could even believe that crazy old man been touched by some cruel god of mischief, because this all has to be some kind of joke. Not that I'm laughing."
At Duatha's offer of employment, Torin raises an eyebrow. "Protection? Aye, I've done that kind of work before. What do you need protecting from? Heading into trouble, or trouble heading your way?"
At the God of Mischief comment Duatha's eyes narrow, It could not be. The Sage has no such trifles with the Demon Merchant and besides, I am not important enough, [i]yet, to warrant such attention from a God.[/i] He shakes his head clearing the idea from his mind.
"One never knows when one may encounter trouble Dwarf. Why one could be tracked for hundreds of miles if one does not know where to look and be none the wiser about it.
The People are hated for what we stand for. We are the Chosen of E'li. For that we reserve a special place of hatred in the heart of the Dragonqueen".
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Duatha's words were enough to make Aeleni blush, what made her blush even more furiously.
She bit her lips, but then answered:
I haven't been to the marketplace yet. That might present a good opportunity. I might consider it, should you ask me nicely. Or i might go there because i want it.
When Duatha begins to converse with the humans and other beasts, her eyebrows lift up scandalized.
Duatha! What are you doing? Hiring a dwarf for security is certainly sensible, but you now you can always trust most on your kin!
Hearing the conversation go on, she tries to remain distant, but has clear troubles.
Agitate she puts her hands on her hips.
It is known that Ansalon was - and is - such a dark place because the humans made it so. The humans and the, well, other obvious evils.
She does not glance at the minotaur.
As Duatha speaks of taking the test of high socery, Aeleni looks surprised.
If you want to take the test of high sorcery, why would you leave...
Her voice trails off and she looks blankly at Duatha, her mind processing the possibilities and shock appearing on her face.
After taking a moment to gather herself, she states
This is clearly a test. A test of patience and to proof ourselves worthy. I will help to find out what madness has gotten this old man. He's probably just senile like it is the way of the short lived, but if it entertains you, Duatha, so be it.
Duatha turns to Aeleni, "So then you do admit you were following me. If you were not following me would I not be in need of protection on the road to... to the Tower".
His lips purse, "We cannot continue to blame the Evils of the world on the Humans Cousin, we Elves turned our backs on the Gods as well.
Is that not right Holy Woman?" The Elf glances at Fuma.
"It was a Human Woman Goldmoon that retrieved the Disks of Mishakel. Not the People".
Bander makes wincing face and glances sidelong between Aeleni and Fuma. He silently mouths, "okay then."
He holds up his hand and starts counting on his fingers and looking around the room he points to himself. He shakes his head and says to himself, "No it can't be Kender. We are obvious I guess." He chuckles, "But evil no."
He realizes the other elf is talking again. He looks up wondering where all this is gonna go.
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I have not been ... following you! I am on a mission! And as it turns out one gravely necessary, since you appear to be about to commit foolishness and disgrace us! What are you thinking?
Aeleni looks around, embarrased.
We need not have this conversation here, it is but for our ears alone.
Yet, you know as well, it was humans who led the dragon armies and conjured the evil queen! It was also them who brought forth the cataclysm! Goldmoon may have done that, she is only an exception tough. But do we need to discuss history here? I want this ridiculous situation to be solved. Now!
Seldomly you saw an elf so agitated..
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Bander looks around, "You know. I mean I have met some nice humans sure. But I believe there are some people who fought in the big war agains the Dragonlady. I mean lots probably, but famous ones. There is an elf princess and another elf guy . . .though he has a beard. They live here in the city I think. I mean if you really wanted to get a first hand feel for who to blame." He shakes his head, "Though to be honest blaming every human for something some humans did seems weird I mean. I had dinner with some friends once, well friends and extended family. Anyway. This one guy farted and it really smelled. Sure it drove us all outside, I mean this was an epic rip. But if we decided that his whole family were to blame for the fart . . . I mean you get what I mean. Right?"
"Disgrace us?
Very well. This then is a conversation for another place and time Cousin. I am happy to have you here and as you are on your own mission then the Dwarf will be a good asset for my protection. And I for him a source of Gold, well what Gold I have left anyway.
Humans may have summoned the Queen though I am not entirely sure we know the exact story of how the Queen escaped her prison but it was a handful of Humans and a Half-Human that put her back into that prison.
Lauralanthalasa has wed that Half-Human, Cousin.
All is once more in balance as the world was intended to be".
Sheska has been watching the conversation volley back and forth. She looks straight at Aeleni and says clearly for all to hear--with no accent--"I won't think all elves rude just because some are."
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With the discussion boiling, Zak simply shakes his head and goes back to staring out the window again - "I would kill for a cool, frothing beer right now" - he snorts to himself.
"Be at peace here. There is no one to be blamed and getting agitated helps no one but those who might wish to see us fight among ourselves. The world has harsh wounds to heal and all of us bear wounds for both in body and mind."
She then repeats her words, her tone the same lilt as when she spoke elvish. It is clear that her tutor was very good or perhaps an Elf.
"Much as the most have turned away from the gods, there were those who sought them. It could have being anybody but the gods have remained as inscrutable in their plans and deeds. What can Mere Mortals such as us divine from their intent?"
She holds her arms out in a peaceful manner.
"I am no Goldmoon. I did not fight against the dragon armies. I am not an experienced traveler either." she states as she sweeps her gaze on all of them.
"I was a slave. Born a slave but freed in one or the other skirmish. Taken in, I was clothed, fed and taught my letters. Gifted with Mishakel's grace though I lack the formal training of her clergy are given. I was trained in the arts of war more but still I kept up my healer's training as humble as it was. I still am clueless as too why this Old Man keeps stopping us but in this case I'll say that we look for him and enquire why." she smiles, a radiant one
"Better then bickering among ourselves no?"
She stands up and looks among her current cellmates.
"Perhaps we should call for this Jorin." and so she does.........
"I don't see calling someone out on racism as 'bickering', Fuma." Sheska takes a deep breath. "Of course your intention is pure. It's just that I was thinking of tagging along with Duatha for some conversations about magic, after we're done with all of this. If you're amenable to that, Duatha. And I would be quite put out if someone were not watching my back because I am merely human."
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The exception just validates the rule, you should know that, cousin. Also i can fulfill my mission AND take care of you. Do you question my abilities? Or my dedication?
You notice Aeleni is not just very beautyful, but also quite fit and well-trained it appears. She certainly looks more physical than Duatha and not in the least like a fragile elf maiden.
Then, for the first time she turns to the others.
It is well met that you tried to learn elven. There's no need to speak elvish for you though, i am fluent in your language, as you can hear.
I'm also neither racist nor rude, nor do i mean anyone harm here. I'm merely stating well known facts. Not even opinions. If you want to change those facts and make a different impression, your fate is all in your hands. Or maybe the hands of the gods, who you would need to petition then.
With a friendly and sympathetic smile she turns to Fuma.
I am sorry you experienced such a bad treatment by your own people. It is well that by the grace of the gods you found some better people among your own and your fate turned out more friendly. Perhaps you can be a light in the darkness for your people and guide them. I certainly wish you can.
To Sheska her look is a bit more stern.
Do not worry magician, i will also watch your back in my presence. As i will watch you. Should you take the test at some time and survive, we will see your colors.
Emphasizing the word colors, she gives a worried sideglance to Duatha.
Then she strides to the door, shouting
Guards! Guard! Come here! The beastman asks for a cool ale! Bring it quickly before they get too hot!
Turning around she smiles.
There you see.
[b]I'm also neither racist nor rude,
Bander scrunches his face and holds a hand up rocking it back and forth. Clearly showing that the elfs protests aren't coming through clearly.
Then she strides to the door, shouting
Guards! Guard! Come here! The beastman asks for a cool ale! Bring it quickly before they get too hot!
Turning around she smiles.
There you see.
"I am not a beastman. No more than you are a treewoman" - Zak comments without turning around - "I am a minotaur. But if you need to speak of or address me, you can simply treat me by name, since I already offered it. That will suffice"
When Aeleni the beautiful but fierce delivers her jab at Sheska, the magician just laughs. "Oh, but I know what I am."
Sheska walks over to the nearest stone wall and slides down with a sigh. Then, she asks the minotaur, "Zak, if they bring ale, can I please have one?"
a few moments later, Jorin the guardsman approaches the cell doors and looks at everyone. The look on everyone's face, the current mood, the knowledge of what everyone in this cell has gone through, it plays over Jorins face from surprise, to sympathy, to a mild smile.
Ale for the beastman? Jorin smirks, then reaches up his hand and smooths over his features. ah, but if we could provide for that demand. However, i have even better news. The magistrate is ready to hear your case. Again. For the ninth time. And, unfortunately, it is with the same old man. he looks around at everyone again, making eye contact, expressing sympathy towards them and what is occurring with them. Until his gaze falls upon the kender. Exasperation and annoyance cross his face as he purses his lips. And of course, the kender is free. why am i not surprised. It is like trying to nail water to the wall, attempting to restrain a kender.
Dropping to his knees, Jorin beckons the small creature towards the cell door.
Now, good sir. I offer you this. I have somewhere on my body a silver fishing hook. If you promise to look for this while we are in court, i shall not restrain you. But, if you leave my side, i will unfortunately have to secure you again, using the kender collar. I personally do not like such things, but i will use such a thing upon you to keep order in the Magistrates courtroom.
jorin stands and addresses the group. the same goes for all of you. I understand that this is difficult for all of you. If you promise to not cause a ruckus in the magistrates courtroom, you can go in there without restraints. however, if you cannot promise that, then i will be forced to use manacles upon all of you.
Sheska walks over to the nearest stone wall and slides down with a sigh. Then, she asks the minotaur, "Zak, if they bring ale, can I please have one?"
"Tell you what Lady Kune- when we are out of here, the next couple of rounds are on me" - Zak nods at the woman.
jorin stands and addresses the group. the same goes for all of you. I understand that this is difficult for all of you. If you promise to not cause a ruckus in the magistrates courtroom, you can go in there without restraints. however, if you cannot promise that, then i will be forced to use manacles upon all of you.
The minotaur cracks his neck joints, and shakes his head - "You best restrain me Master Jorin - I cannot promise to stand idly by while I am wrongfully accused... Again..." - he snorts, moving closer to the guardsman, and putting his hands forward.
"Oh, Jorin, how that must soothe your conscience to say you don't want to use that monstrous device on Bander." Sheska says as she stands up.
"But you're willing to, which makes you no better than the next jailor." She bites her lower lip a moment and then asks, "Is there any way I could take responsibility for the kender?"
To Duatha, Torin says, "Aye true enough. I can keep trouble away, at least until your coin runs out. We can hammer out the details once we get out of here."
When the guard shows up, he gives a nod in agreement to the man's proposal.
"You've got my word guardsman. I've got no interest in dragging out these proceeding any longer than they already are. Let's just get this farce over with. Again."