It was late in the evening but there was still a sizeable crowd in the tavern. Bar wenches hurried around the common room with trays of drinks or food for eager patrons. Although comprised mostly of humans there were also a number of Elves, Dwarves and even a Halfling. A small group of Larencian traders were sitting around a table listening intently to a slightly intoxicated Elvis tell the tale of the death of Alex Purpleworm Bane, one of the original founders of Taswegia. The Bard was in his element, in one hand he held a full tankard of ale while in the other he softly shook a maraca to add to the mood of his story telling. As he came to climax of his tale he lowered his voice to barely a whisper as shadows from the nearby fire flickered across his handsome face. The traders, as if in a trance, leaned forward as Elvis told how Laren, the King of Larencia, cried tears of anguish at the death of his friend and vowed to build a city in his honor. At the completion of his story the Bard lowered his head as if in prayer to the fallen hero, while the attentive audience nodded their heads in solemn appreciation at a tale well told.
When he saw Llona saunter down the stair case and motion him to towards the door, Elvis rose unsteadily to his feet, bid his audience good bye, then followed the Elf outside.
Across the other side of the room Slobba stared across the table at Lady Carmen and her companion Yorick as they ate their meals in silence. Lady Carmen consumed her food as one would expect of the Nobility, she cut small pieces from the lamb shank and put them daintily into her mouth, while Yorick attacked it with gusto.
Once she’d finished her meal the Lorsian Noblewoman placed her fork onto the table then picked up her goblet of wine and sipped from it.
“Tell me Slobba, how did you come to find yourself in Van Drewman’s Port?” she asked in a weary voice.
“Now that’s an interesting story” said the big Lorsian as he picked up his own goblet and drained its contents.
“Do tell” replied the Noblewoman as she settled back into her chair.
“I was on a ship out of Lors City
“So why did you only get as far as Van Drewman’s Port?” asked Yorick gruffly before tearing another piece of lamb off the bone.
“I um” started Slobba “I was kicked off the ship.”
“Why?” asked Yorick before spitting a large piece of gristle onto his plate.
“I like to sew” replied Slobba in an embarrassed tone.
“A skill that would be very handy on a ship” said Lady Carmen “why would you be asked to leave because of that?”
“It wasn’t the fact that I sew that was the problem; it was kind of what I like to sew”
“And that would be?” she asked patiently.
“Errrr costumes” he said hurriedly.
“Costumes” replied the Noblewoman in a level voice.
“Yes, costumes” said Slobba.
“What type of costumes?”
“Any kind really, but mostly stage costumes and dresses” replied Slobba as his eyes darted around the room looking to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation.
“So you’re a poof then” said Yorick bluntly.
“What? No!” exclaimed the hulking young Lorsian.
“You sound like one to me” said Yorick.
“Not that there is anything wrong with that” said Lady Carmen quickly.
“Yes” replied Yorick “there is.”
“Now Yorick, we’re not in Southern Lors now” she admonished “people are free to practice whatever they want to behind closed doors here in the West.”
“Doesn’t make it right though, a poof behind closed doors is the same as a poof marching down the street in sequined armor” replied the muscular warrior.
“I AM NOT A POOF!” shouted Slobba as he lurched to his feet reaching for the mace that hung on his belt, sending his chair hurtling across the room as he did so.
The tavern went quite as every head in the tavern turned to stare at the scene that was playing out before them.
“Be seated countryman” said Lady Carmen soothingly “Yorick meant no offense did you Yorick?”
“Yes” retorted the warrior defiantly “I did.”
“Right! I’m going to smash your fucking face in!” snarled Slobba as he swung his mace on a murderous arc towards Yoricks head.
Showing a nimbleness that caught Slobba by surprise, Yorick hurled himself backwards off his chair. As he rolled to his feet he drew his sword in one smooth motion and set himself into a defensive stance.
“Northern scum” he spat through gritted teeth.
“Southern filth” said Slobba fiercely as he began to circle around the table towards his opponent.
“ENOUGH!” said Lady Carmen with a thundering shout that brought both combatants up short.
“Sit down the both of you!” she hissed.
The two men eyed each other through masks of rage before returning to the table. Slobba picked up his chair then reversed it so that it would not be a hindrance if he had to come to his feet again. Yorick continued to eye off the young Lorsian while he fingered the hilt of his sword. Around them the patrons of the tavern began to resume their conversations as if nothing untoward had happened.
“It is precisely conflict like this that has torn the Realm apart” said the Noblewoman.
“What do you mean?” asked Slobba warily.
“The Southern Lords have united under Sigurd, the Duke of Greensword. They have declared independence and are marching on the Capital” replied Lady Carmen with a grimace. “They say that the Northerners have grown soft and no longer keep to the ways that King Simon laid down when the realm was founded. They mean to replace the Queen with the Duke and return to the good old days.”
“What, like stripping down naked, painting themselves blue then running off into the Dark Heart to seek a glorious death?” ask Slobba with a snort.
“There is no more glorious death than to die killing those of the Dark Heart” said Yorick.
“Oh yes” replied Slobba sarcastically “being killed with my dick hanging out is definitely the way I want to go, that doesn't sound gay at all.”
“Stop it” said Lady Carmen with more than a note of exhaustion in her voice.
“Why haven’t you joined your Southern clansmen in this rebellion” said Slobba ignoring the Noblewoman.
“I may be a Southerner but I’m first and foremost a Queensman” replied Yorick fiercely. “Besides, a realm divided is a realm that is vulnerable. We have too many enemies to be fighting amongst ourselves.”
Slobba eyed the man across the table to see if he was sincere and quickly came to the conclusion that he was.
‘An idiot he may be but a loyal idiot he is’ he thought to himself.
“How has this news not found its way to the taprooms of ever tavern on the Island ” he asked his two countrymen.
“In truth we only found out ourselves this morning after I spoke with one of my Kinsmen via a scrying device” replied Lady Carmen. “I have no doubt that news of the rebellion will reach every corner of the Island within days. Most surely the courts of every country will know about it before tomorrow’s sun sets”.
“This is tragic news indeed” said Slobba after pausing to collect his thoughts “I wish there was something that I could do.”
“Are you a Queensman Slobba?” asked the Noblewoman quietly.
“By my life yes” replied the blonde Lorsian without hesitation.
Lady Carmen placed a small glowing blue gemstone onto the table in front of Slobba “Take this gem and guard it well” she said urgently “there will come a time when the Queen will need all of her loyal subjects and when she does I will use this to call you to arms.”
“Surely she needs me now”
“No” she interrupted “The Northern army is strong and will withstand the Southern Lords. As you have seen here tonight not all of the Southerners will side with the rebellion. The best thing you can do is to be the Queens eyes and ears for now. If you find any information that you deem to be worthy of passing along, speak my name into the gem and I will hear your words.”
“As my Lady commands” replied Slobba with nod of his head as he picked the gemstone up off the table and placed it into a pocket.
“I knew I could count on you Kinsman” said Lady Carmen “Come Yorick, the hour grows late and I am tired, I would retire to my room before we recommence our journey tomorrow.”
“Yes my Lady” replied Yorick as he rose to his feet and helped the Noblewoman from her chair.
“Until we meet again Slobbadon Mikokubich”
“Until we meet again Lady Carmen Meemouf”
“Northerner” said Yorick coldly.
“Southerner” replied Slobba with a hint of hostility.
Four hours later Lady Carmen sat at a dressing table in her room with a cloth in her hand. She dipped the cloth into a pitcher of water on the table then dabbed it into a small jar of ointment that sat next to it. Holding a mirror in one hand she then rubbed the damp oily cloth onto the tattoos on the right side of her face. After a few minutes of rubbing the markings disappeared. She reapplied the water and ointment then started on the left. After she was done she leant her head over the bowl in the centre of the table and poured water from the pitcher through her hair. After it was totally soaked she placed a towel over her head and began to rub vigorously until all the dye that had been in it had started to come out. It took her three rinses until all of the dye was gone and her natural color had returned. She’d never liked being a blonde and was glade to see her face once again framed by her dark brown locks.
“Another successful venture don’t you think” she asked Yorick who was sitting in a chair by the door.
Yorick didn’t answer the question. Yorick wouldn’t answer questions ever again; it’s hard to talk when your throat has been cut from ear to ear.
Authors Note: Apologies that it has taken so long to get back into writing. I had a bit of a crisis of confidence a while ago and it has taken quite a few months to get my mojo back. I have kept copious amounts of notes from the games we've had since I stopped writing so I have plenty of material to use. In saying that though, the story above did not actually occur in our game.
Regards
Prux
Regards
Prux
