by mozenwrathe on Mon Apr 02, 2012 3:29 am
*Another parchment was found within the Artists' Ambit, around the same time as "And Without That First Star In The Sky" was discovered. Once more, there was no signature attached to it. Probably someone getting out their emotions out. Whatever the motivation was for these two pieces, one can easily see the tone between them is far and varied. As well, none came back looking for these two parchments, so it was believed the person moved on in some fashion.*
Seventeen Brass Daggers Coated In Gemstone Dusts
by Ariaz Refinnej, dwarven half-breed
Something I never thought to receive from the man who had originally wanted me to be one of his harem girls: an invitation. And to what of all things? His actual wedding. I never believed I would hear from him again after how I snubbed him. (Actually, it was more I never wanted to speak his name or see his crest impressed upon wax and signed around with flourish ever again. Given I found him sleeping with my previous lover's father - whom I had nothing but disgust for - I believe I had good reason.. if anything, all i wanted to do was to run and hide from the notice. it was all fancied up and well lofted by the courier who brought it. of course, it was a dwarven noble's son from the Silversinger Clan. Not a well lauded family, but their heels never wore down, you could say.
The man's name was Cenwhothal Pentlandite, and his beard was definitely one of the richest within that region. And I meant that literally, for in his seven beard-braids did Cenwhothal have seven chains of mithril and platinum woven in. He stood a little taller than the average dwarf, and his beard was a luxurious midnight blue. His hair was streaked with silver, for he was not the youngest of dwarves either. That was what had attracted me to him in the first place, actually: his wisdom with business. Whatever faults he had, none of them lay with finances - which was as good as looks to any dwarf with an eye for the future. The man had been very wise with his investments, mostly in the slave trade. I found him distateful - not because he dealt in slaves, but because he refused to even think of doing any physical labour himself. He believed most things like that beneath him. That included anything to do with sex. He was almost all about himself when it came to anything pleasurable.
With that in mind, I had to wonder what sort of woman would deign attach themselves to him. I say woman, because for the life of me I didn't consider a man wanting to tie themselves to him in any significant way if all they were there for was the sex. In the region that I was raised, males rarely if ever bonded with other males. Some called it weak of them, and others insisted the gods would ignore their prayers, thinking them coming from the same mouth. Women had been handfasted together more than a few times, though more often than not they were politically minded moves done by fastidious families. Love matches between men and men or women and women weren't commonly put to the Trials or Tempests, but the ones that were normally stood the tests of time as well as any other.
As it turned out, I had been invited for something that had nothing to do with mockery. Due to the number of former lovers that had been passed up and passed on by Cenwhothal, a strange ceremony featuring many of his "jilted" paramours would be held. Something else that only those with a lot of money could manage to accomplish.This was something his grandmother, Dame Elyycia Emeraldfist had devised for all of her male descendants. Any who did not undergo this ceremony would be cast out from the clan forever. From what I had heard, Cenwhothal was the sole brother of five to actually go through with it. The other four - all older from what I knew of him - had all long traveled to other clanholds and strongholds for the dwarven people, taking only their given name and their tools with them. Oh yes, and the clothes they could carry on their backs. (Dame Elyccia was not that cold blooded, after all, just... vindictive.) As long as he went through with the ceremony, he would be set to inherit just about everything that his brothers left behind. Almost a little too convenient really. All he needed do was to have every last woman he had slept with within the past decade be granted an invitation to the night before his nuptials. Each of them would be given one boon in the weapon of their choice to be crafted by him or those of his direct employ. Given that he himself was not a smith, I didn't see how this could possibly work for him, but I chose to accept the invitation regardless.
It was a week of travel before I reached where the ceremonies would be held. In town for a few days itself, I figured it'd be interesting to see the sights. I had nothing holding me to a schedule, aside from a few fittings of the garments we would be required to wear. The place itself was a dwarven town I had never been to before. One that had many small shrines to Morcal and Ryasak scattered about. There was a temple to the Worldsmith as well, along with one (much smaller) to the deity known as Uvelcra. I stayed away from that place, knowing some of the rumours about the god Himself. I had no need to run into a zealot from that particular faith. Sadly, not a single shrine within the town itself to Neserva or Gaea Herself. Finding that somewhat disheartening, I learned that those who followed Neserva often gathered at a place just north of the town itself. Journeying there by rented horse, I found myself amongst others whom I had nothing to fear or hide from. It was a good feeling this, and one I embraced for as long as I could - which was until dusk had taken center stage. The trip back felt very haunted and forbidding, but that was due to the harsh winds from high upon the mountain coming down to kiss my flesh or rasp against my skin wickedly.
The next day was for the fittings. I found myself at the store suggested for me bright and early, only to see two others there for presumably the same thing. Each of us had a parchment in our left hand, and three scarves around the right wrist. The scarves had also been sent with the invitation. It seemed that Cenwhothal's grandmother had thought of everything. Well, almost everything but that was beside the point. It was a rather attractive red headed human female, a swarthy skinned half elf, and myself at this store. It became rather apparently that Cenwhothal had sampled more than just the "local variety" of women. I could not fault him, mainly as I had by far never stayed just with dwarves either. I myself was the product of an "ill-timed tryst" or so my father had always told me. He was the dwarf and my mother the human. The end result of that had been my mother leaving me on my father's doorstep with three axes in his door itself - thrown by her. Though at the moment, my eyes were on the two women, absolutely certain I had seen them before. I hadn't the time to consider it for too long, for the door to the clothing creation shoppe opened, and a old dwarven soldier stepped out. One could tell by the way he stood at ease, with shoulders square and eyes not missing a thing.
"Oh, so you three are here for Great Lady Elyycia's grandson's wedding night are you not? No, wait, the night before the wedding night you are here for. Oh this is going to be a most interesting spectacle indeed. Come on in, the three of you. Might as well have you all dressed right and proper for the Great Lady's event. Sure, the wedding tomorrow is for Young Thaneson Pentlandite but this night is for Emeraldfist. Nobody around here would believe otherwise, either. She is pretty much paying for everything, Great Lady Elyycia is. At least for the party tomorrow night."
The redhead was the first to say something. "So you mean we showed up here to be part of some ritual or something then, sir? If we did, you would be so kind to let us know if we are going to be surviving this or not ahead of time. I have no intentions of walking into my death here. My good friend and I have better things to do than to wind up on a slab with crystal spears through our stomachs."
Her voice wasn't quite as arrogant as the words that came out of her mouth. Though she had a legitimate point: the only person that had any idea how this was supposed to go down was Elyycia Emeraldfist herself. I doubted even Cenwhothal was certain what was supposed to happen by the end of it. Sure, most bachelor parties were more a lot of sex and debauchery than anything else. This was promising to be anything but, the way that this old dwarf was sounding. Of course, Dame Elyycia Emeraldfist was a rather devout worshipper of The Worldsmith, having funded a temple in his name three towns over. I found that out when I was traveling to this town itself. The redheaded human was moving around in the store, almost carting along her darker skinned friend behind her. It was sort of interesting seeing them together. One could easily see the redhead binding up her "friend" (though I could almost smell the sex between them) and fondling her early one morning to greet the day.
"Oh, there'll be no live sacrifices that night, lass. Not the way of the Worldsmith. Maybe that Uvelcra god, but not our Worldsmith. The ritual and event were all approved by the temple. Many people will be in attendance, but you lot along with the rest shall be the guests of honour. You should feel privileged to be part of this. But first, we need to get you some proper dresses. I will need to measure you all and then my assistants will come in and have you each treated with all due need and haste, hrm?"
The old dwarf used a knotted silken rope to go through measuring us. He waited to do me, last, for would he not need the step ladder he brought for himself as much. The swarthy elven maiden was first, and the old dwarf started calling out the numbers of knots. Though he was the only one in the store - or so I thought, he acted as if there were others around milling about. When he clapped his hands, I learned to my surprise there had been others the entire time: fae, pixies, and nixies. Growing to their larger size, the lot of them took each of us in hand and away to be privately fitted. No blush was left unnoticed, and no curve was left untended to. For the tiny folk, they were unusually serious. I would learn later that they all seemed to be like that while within the store itself. Every last one of them had been slaves or servants abandoned by their masters or mistresses, and picked up by the old dwarf here. He made it a hobby to "collect" them and retrain them to become productive and talented. One had to wonder if he used any for sex, but it wasn't my place to ask. More than likely the redheaded woman did. I would not have put it past her.
The dresses that the tiny folk ended up making for each of us were of heavy satins and other very nice fabric. The redheaded woman's dress was in beautiful greens and blues that reminded me of the rivers and flatlands. Her darker skinned companion was given a lovely wrap dress in buttercream and pearl. And for myself? I expected something dour and plain, but they seemed to take scraps of numerous fabrics and create a multicoloured dress that flowed like the winds through the willows. The general theme was autumnal hues and shades, starting dark and moving their way to lighter and more vibrant aspects. I had to say, I was quite impressed by it. Though were were not allowed to stay in the store when the tiny folk were working on the dresses themselves. There were not actually going to be completed until the next day, and that was with the small army - literally and figuratively - working on them. Were we ushered out by the old dwarf and told to go to one of the jewelery places in the bazaar. He didn't recommend any in particular, but he did have some harsh words about one or two of the guards around the bazaar itself. If nothing else, it gave the three of us women something to watch out for.
"So then, what's your name?" asked the dark skinned elven woman. Her voice was gorgeous like thickened bitter chocolate heated and poured over a honey cake. One could easily drown in her tones if they were not careful. "My friend here is Shéyriöa, and I am Ruidyynäh. It seems that you have been more than touched by the man who we are here to celebrate the wedding of?" She did not giggle, but it was like a bubbling brook - more of a natural sound of enjoyment than anything else. Her movements were all so very smooth and yet unpracticed, moving against her "friend" (whom by now I was certain she was sleeping with) as if she was her anchor. The copper-crested companion of hers, Shéyriöa, did seem to be the more grounded of the two. Not that she bore any weapons on her, but I would not wish to test her patience without good cause.
"Am I no more and no less than Ariaz. Just one of who knows how many Cenwhothal wet his flesh whistle with. I have no flattening memories of my times with him, so I cannot even speak so... sweetly of him now." There was a wryness in my tone I had not wanted. Remembering how much emotion I had invested in the man now just cut at me to the quick. "He could have been a lot worse, of that I know for certain. Though, now that you make me remember him, do I recall his tongue could be quite talented when he was furious." And there was my grin again. Being alone for long periods of time had made me long for the touch of others. And here was this woman making me drag back up what I had thrown away when I had thrown myself out of the life of that man. Of course, there could have been secreted lovers here and there. I did not want that for myself, though. Any I sought for my bed would I do so openly.
For what it was worth, Ruidyynäh was quite empathic. She drew me to her with her free arm, sliding her left arm around the waist of Shéyriöa. Kissing me on the cheek, she grinned at me so vibrantly I thought I would quiver and fall to my knees. Had none been this close to me in a while and could I do no less than just follow where she led. And here I had believed the entire time that she with the firey tresses had been the one to direct where they went.
"Don't worry," said Shéyriöa with a smirk. "You'll get used to this. Seems you are sticking around with us for the rest of the day, unless you have a lover or some official to pull you away from us. I hope that you like fish, though, because I'm not touching any of the roasted pork they have in this town. It does something foul to my mouth and my throat."
And that was how I met two new friends. How good friends would they become, would I not know for a long while indeed. As a group, we went to the bazaar with more than a few eyes upon us. At the bazaar itself, did we separate. Ruidyynäh made a beeline for what looked to be two catgirls who were selling various charms and runic works. Had I no interest in such things, but from the squeeing I heard, she was more than pleased. It was not like she had lost her mind. I was told much later that Ruidyynäh had a habit of encountering those of a spiritual bent. For readings and blessings, the dark skinned elf tended to give out gifts of varying sorts. Some days it was runestones. Other days rings of carved bone or polished stone. She could be quite eclectic, holding onto very little for herself that she couldn't carry with her from place to place.
Shéyriöa went to the farthest end of the bazaar, seeking out silver, white gold, and platinum. From what it looked like to me, she was doing the purchasing for herself and Ruidyynäh. Her eyes narrowed the moment she found the two vendors she wanted, and the haggling begun in earnest. Apparently, she was far more fierce and talented than I had suspected. A crowd had actually begun to form, watching the copper-crested woman wheel and deal with both of the vendors at the same time without missing a beat or a word. Her tongue was far sharper than I suspected: when she struck down a heckler in the crowd viciously with words alone, he almost drew steel on her. Those around the man (another human, in fact) quietly and discretely informed the black haired barbarian exactly how foolish of an idea that'd be in a town filled with armed denizens. Stomping off, I could swear I heard him talking vengeance and "teaching that uppity bitch her place."
We never did see him again, though. I have a strong feeling that he had a run in with someone else that he could not stand, for there was a story going around a little later on about a fight or two on the outskirts of the town. Slavers had apparently swooped in and absconded with all the combatants. Never knew that centaurs had such inclinations before that evening, either. Well, no longer was he our concern.
As for myself, I located a small group of lesser visited vendors. Through them, I found what few things I had that were precious could be traded at a good rate for other items. Now, none of what I had on did I have much attachment to, but the people in the bazaar all apparently wanted to bid on them. What I ended getting in return, must I say, I will treasure for as long as my fingers may hold them. A necklace made from numerous catseye stones, along with earrings to match. They were both held together with mithril wire, making them also suitable to be touched with magic. Would have I preferred valecite, but such was rare enough and very few smiths of any race knew how to work it. As well, the stones were so well treated and preserved, could I swear they had been kissed by Neserva Herself before they were given to me. Did I not find any rings, but there was a pair of bracelets that were crafted in the same way as the necklace. Except the stones were jade, onyx, malachite, turquoise, and chrysocolla. My golden trinkets did I willingly part with for them, knowing the stones would be more suited to my nature. In fact, some of the gold I did still have with me had been bought by Cenwhothal himself. So it made sense for me to part with the last memories of him physically to go to something for the man himself. It was poetic to my heart, at least.
We spent around two hours within the bazaar there, trading and haggling, buying and apparently selling. I found myself selling off a pair of kopis I completely forgot I had on me. It took me a while to recall how I got them to begin with: gambling with my life against three wolven. The details are not all that necessary, but I do remember thinking that running into that enraged troll was possibly one of the most fortunate moments of my life. I've no idea how I managed to stay out of the fray itself, but the kopis had some enchantments on them that drew them to me. I found myself suddenly rich, and those funds were going to go towards my stay at the inn and any future expenses I had. Ruidyynäh and Shéyriöa caught up to me soon afterwards, smiling at their purchases. The elf was doing more grinning than the titian-locked human, but that was just the nature of the duo. I found myself becoming quickly used to their presence, so when we all ended up at the same inn, I was hardly surprised. It was when Shéyriöa declared my things and Ruidyynäh's would be moved to her room that I tried to stop what was swiftly happening. It was far too late for me, however, as the pair of them brought me up to the redhead's room and stripped me before I could catch a breath. But was it not for ravishing, though, that they were doing this. Apparently, we had to go and attend a dinner of just the women who were going to be part of the evening's ritual and festivities. Though I am sure there were fingers lingering far longer than they originally needed to, could I not complain. Was my body starved for attention, and their hands could do no wrong in the eyes of my skin.
The dinner was an interesting one, though we did not meet Dame Elyycia Emeraldfist that evening. We did, however, meet her daughter Sylancia Emeraldfist and two of her nieces, Bryasheni Jadepalm and Tuisnyymae Agateshimmer. They were the ones all working towards making the event itself a success. The lady of the evening herself was busy conversing with the temple's priestesses to make sure all omens and portents were accounted for - good or ill. She was essentially too busy with the preparations for the event to deal with the preparations for the event. It was not a small dinner either, with well more than twenty women around the long table. Apparently, men had not counted towards this ritual, as men did not have to worry about certain things that women did. Heirs, for example. The ritual would make sure any and all present would never hold claim to anything of the Thaneson's, for they would have their chance to present their case before a room of peers. Mostly it was to see "if any that arrogant bastard had dipped his wick into were producing his bastards." The laughter around the room was infectious, as none there had found themselves in such a way while with Cenwhothal or afterwards. Most considered the possibility a horror they wanted to have nothing to do with. Not a single woman there really wanted anything to do with him again, no matter how much money he was looking to inherit.
There was something to be said when there was a room filled with women and none of them were after a stupid male's coin. Namely that Cenwhothal was not a mistake any of us were looking to consciously make again. Any woman that ran back to him now would either be insane or so unbelievably crafty that goblins and ogres would deify them on the spot. I, for one, was glad to be done with this dinner and such on the morrow's eve as soon as possible. The less I had to think of all that could have been, the better. Some of the other women there were far more eager to be part of this spectacle. After all, they had just received a free gown from one tailor or another, the mehrial for them covered by the Emeraldfist Clan. Shéyriöa was more interested in the food that was being served than most of what was being said. She nodded at the appropriate times and replied to a few questions directed at her, but that was about it. Ruidyynäh, on the other hand, was right into everything going on around her. She seemed like the natural life of the party whenever Shéyriöa wasn't anchoring her. I did not understand how they wanted me to fit in that dynamic, but I would certainly try.
Once the meal and the meeting were over, were we sent back to our respective places we were staying at until the morning. By the afternoon, the dresses that were being worked on would be completed. That night, though, did I know the bliss of sleeping between two wonderful women. And yes, did I sleep, with hands against my thighs and lips lightly grazing my temples. For the first time in who knows how many months, was I truly content with my life. All I knew was that my sides were warmed by something that was not fire or bruises, and I was invited - nay, insisted upon becoming part of this. Maybe that selfish silverfish of a dwarf did one thing truly wonderful for me in his life after all.
The next morning was a flurry of movement and activity. We woke up early. No, let me correct that: Shéyriöa woke up early and then beat Ruidyynäh and myself with pillows until we were (badly) defending ourselves half-asleep still. From there, it was off to the bathing house. We found ourselves accosted on the way there by a few more than amorous louts who didn't want to take know for an answer. After beating them off with a stick or two, we made sure to properly cleanse ourselves in a private bath, paying for the privilege heartily. Starting ourselves early was a good idea, though, for as we were leaving, some of the other women we had met the night before were arriving. Off to the dress shop, where that old dwarf was waiting for us at the front. Turns out, though, his name was Nuemairol Asperquint. This old dwarf's clan had been in a fight with goblins like a generation or two before, and scattered around the region from coast to coast. He told us the story of his clan while his legion of tiny folk got us all fitted for our evening. We would need come back later for the final touches. Until then, we needed to go to some woman's house to have our hair properly done up and over. The last thing the retired soldier told us was this: "Whatever you do, don't be surprised at what comes out of Tuimpae's mouth." Little did we realize...
I had never treated my hair too well, and it showed. I believe it was the first time I've ever heard elven curse words from all three types of them out of a dwarf's mouth. From the looks on Ruidyynäh's face, probably a first for her as well. Shéyriöa was too busy laughing her ass off at the pair of us. At least her hair was not causing anyone trouble. I do not know how long we were there for, but I know we had food brought to us by some of the adolescents of the town. More than likely hired for just such a purpose. Ruidyynäh figured we were there for a few hours, given all the ornate work that was done with each of us. Though she had the shortest hair, she had some of the most spectacular work done to her already rather charismatic locks. They had braided in slim silver and white gold chains to her hair, making her tresses sparkle. I have to say, the women that were helping us with our hair had truly outdone themselves with Ruidyynäh's hairstyle. Shéyriöa's was not that far behind either, with how they did the highlights and create an image of purest flame and rivers of rubies through her hair. The flames of the lanterns would catch off of the gemstones laced through her hair. It was interesting how they found the worst and cheapest stones, polished them while we were still actually there, and made each of them worth so much more as something like a waterfall tiara. Quartz and badly mined rubies, jasper and ochre topaz. Such stones that were originally thought to be useless for most, now creating a magnificent and mysterious effect within my new human friend's glorious waves of carmine and copper. There was not a single person I could remember that wouldn't take note of Shéyriöa if she walked by them now - and that included the blind. As for myself, my hair they did very little to. At least it felt like it by the time they were done washing it, brushing it, combing through it, and then repeating the process a second time. I found myself wearing seven braids that all fell into one, linked together with slim spidersilk rope that had quartered mehrials attached. To say that I "looked like money" was a slight error in statements: I was wearing it.
Once we had finished with our hair, it was time to go back to the dressmaker's place. Shéyriöa was the one to drop a tip for the women, making sure none of those who had aided us would be lacking. It seemed that many eyes were on us as we made our way back to Nuemairol's store, muttering and whispering. I could barely pick up on it, but it seemed that out of the places that had been selected to aid with "the bachelor's final gala," Nuemairol and those women were considered originally the ones to expect the least from. And now, now all they could do was gawk in amazement. Once inside the old dwarf's shoppe, each of us were pulled away for the final touches. Thankfully, we had brought the jewelery we were going to wear with us. (One of the reasons we had been so... violent with those men earlier on in the day.) Each of us spent extra time being very careful getting into the dresses. We did not want to destroy the hard work that had been put into such lovely things. It was astonishing how incredible I felt in that dress. What was even more impressive was the fact the tiny folk had even found shoes that would suit us all for the dresses. Mine were low heeled boots that seemed to be made from lizard skin. Shéyriöa was given riding boots that accentuated her well-muscled legs, dyed the same colour as the dress itself. As for Ruidyynäh, she was given sandals that strapped all the way to her knees, with the leather thongs dyed and stained in such a way that nothing could discolour them again.
A carriage came by the store to pick us up. Rudimentary carriage, considering the town itself, but it was how we would get to the party itself. Within, there were three other women there - all pure blooded dwarves. The looks we three received as we entered was less than welcoming. I suspected there would be much of that at the hall or wherever it was we were being taken. The three dwarves all talked amongst themselves, as if we had not even existed. My redheaded companion was looking as if she wanted to swing a fist and break a jaw, so Ruidyynäh and I quietly pressed on either side of her, holding an arm each. The last thing we needed was a brawl in a confined space, ruining all the hard work of those nice people we had come across. Looking out from one of the windows, did we see some of the city stocks being used: ogre and goblin raiders that had been captured were being punished for their transgressions. The cracking of the whip was nothing compared to the cries of the ogre as the leather of the whip struck him. There were howls of anguish and peals of laughter from those delivering the pain. My eyes turned away from the scene, knowing there was nothing there for me to watch. The pure blooded dwarves, however, looked out and grinned with grim satisfaction. I just could not see someone in pain that way, regardless of what they did. A clean death would have been preferable in my eyes. From the look on the elven maiden's face, she thought similar to myself. Shéyriöa fell asleep part way through the trip and missed it entirely.
At the hall itself, were we all welcomed and brought to the main celebration. As expected, all the women that had been at the dinner the night before were sat at one grand table. There were a few more than I remembered, so there may have been more than one meeting happening that night. The first few minutes went by slowly, as there were performances by various bards of elven and human descent. When the buffet started being set out by a small cadre of halflings and oreads, I realized this was something that had been plotted out for months. Nymphs, duessa, and satyrs were there as well, mostly as eye candy and special servants for various nobility. For a woman I had never heard of before this, Dame Elyycia Emeraldfist seemingly thought of everything. Those of Nature's Bosom must have been slaves, but to have acquired them would have taken much time and planning. Though they were essentially under the gaze of Neserva, did I feel no pull towards them. Apart from either collar or branding, they had been treated better than I had.
The man of the evening was brought out some significant time we got there, dressed quite well and with his bonded mate-to-be: another man. I guess that meant no heirs from that direction any time soon. It was all I could do to keep from snickering into my soup. I believe there were titters and snickering from elsewhere along the table, but mostly just quiet observation. The buffet itself was mainly to keep the guests from starving, not to truly feed them a complete meal. It seemed that the entire event was mainly a showing of past and future. It was more than another turn of the hour glass before our portion of the night was to begin. And when it did, were we all in for a little bit of a surprise. Dame Elyycia Emeraldfist herself addressed the masses personally. She looked as venerable as one would expect with such old fashioned a name, but her voice clearly had lost nothing over the decades.
"And to you all, do I welcome to this humble and gracious event. I know it may seem like much, but this is only a ceremony to acknowledge the true heir and his children to all and sundry. He who shall be his mate will see and hear for himself all of my grandson's graciousness and grime through unstrained mouths. Those women gathered are here to state their claim to the only things they deserve from the one grandson of the Pentlandite line Clan Emeraldfist shall give all and due support and silver to. Today is their singular day of claim, where they may ask for one thing and one thing only from Clan Emeraldfist. In their demands, will they perform something for all of us here, as gift back to their witnesses. After this, shall they be forgotten and never again seen or heard unless as brand new to spirit and spear."
Well. That was something. Most of the women, hearing this, were somewhat aggrieved to have it be some sort of presentation. And to be demanded to "perform" something for the rest of the guests? It was just shy of insulting. Still, in a way were we all going to be "paid" by requesting (and receiving) a boon from this place. Of course, there was also the added restriction that it had to be a weapon of some kind. Though some of the women had already decided what they wanted, and made it a point to look at it each other rather focused, nodding slowly to one another.
One by one, women chose to make their requests. Some of them recited poetry from their youth, or danced with another woman to show their various skills in ways. It was almost a humiliation for at least one woman, before she summoned up her nerve and did a war dance, showcasing her skills with the scimitar. As could be expected, what she wanted was another scimitar, but made with metals from rare earths that were not found close to her village. Before the Thaneson could even try to act shocked and stunned, one of the men of the town himself demanded to know if she was already with someone. Her squeak of astonishment and the shaking of her head was all the man needed to come on down. The woman was from the plains, and the barbarian who had bellowed threw himself down to where the presentations were being made. His words to the woman as he virtually stalked his way over were in some human tongue I knew nothing of. When he was less than a spear's thrust away from her, she looked up at Dame Emeraldfist with a strange gleam in her eye and a tightening to her fist.
"Have I changed my desired boon, milady. I wish for a mithril spear, made with the wood of the ebon fox cedar tree and with three feathers from a grand plains falcon."
The gallery as it were looked all to Dame Emeraldfist, stunned. Nobody knew what to make of such a request... except for the grand old dwarven woman herself. Standing to her feet, she made a broad gesture, showing that such a request would not only be granted, but that she approved. Shéyriöa guessed that the old woman actually understood what had just transpired. Given the way the kilted barbarian was standing behind and to the left of the woman, one could assume he had just claimed her in a way she desired. Marriage proposals at a bachelor's last stand. Who would have thought? The two of them left the hall together shortly after, with much applause from the barbarian's friends and not a small smattering from our longtable either.
It was a while before the next group had finished. Many of them had been very specific about what they had desired. One was so detailed, a scribe had to be called to take down everything she had wanted in the weapon of her choice. Though the most amazing thing was that throughout the numerous women, exactly seventeen of them wanted the same thing: a dagger. But not just any sort of dagger though. They wanted one made from brass, which would be completely useless in actual combat. Along with that, the hilt and pommel of the dagger was to be virtually caked in the dusts of whatever gemstones were normally worked on in the town. Each of them was to have a slightly different engraving or shape to the blade. Two of them would end up being kris knives from how they were described. Another two would be kopis, but with such designs and runes upon them would they be gorgeous. One woman wanted her blade and her hilt to be equally as long, which made absolutely no sense to me. It was when she (a pure blooded dwarven woman) described what would be runed upon it that all made sense. In all, none of the seventeen would be completely identical to the other, and in a way would be like a way for each of the women to put their own personality into the dagger.
The hourglass would have been turned twice over before Ruidyynäh, Shéyriöa and I were called. We ended up being the last ones, though there was no telling when each of us had actually run across Cenwhothal first. For the elf, she danced for the masses, drawing more than a few interested glances. Undoubtedly there'd be at least one or two that would be thinking about enslaving her after that display. Her request, though, was for the weapons that she had been given for attending this event: everything she had on. The Thaneson and his lover - and soon to be husband - were flabbergasted. They didn't know how much that had been given to each of the guests of honour at the long table. When Dame Emeraldfist stated those automatically hers for showing, Ruidyynäh smiled to her.
"Then I wish for nothing."
"Ah, but you must take something in return. Even if it is something as simple as an quiver of arrows. It would be rude of you not to, and against the ritual's precepts."
"Then shall I take this one goblet that I have drank from. Hands of patience and ritual brought this into being, for the glory and goodness of all things to dine upon and drink with. Here, this stein shows to my soft and saddened eyes reason to know joy and hope again. The depictions of festival and fun that it displays are of most intricate work, such that any could know of what the dwarven people are capable of at but a mere glance. Of quality and dwarven make, shall it fend off my thirst most valiantly and in good manner."
My elven friend said this with such solemnity, I was moved. So was Shéyriöa, by the way her jaw had dropped. There was no insult to her voice, nor mockery to her gaze. She wanted as little as possible from the clan of the Thaneson, much like myself. However, I never would have thought to ask for something as simple as a stein and describe it with such elegance. Her speech was swaying to and fro, much like she herself. The grand lady nodded, allowing her request to go through.
Next up was Shéyriöa. Unlike Ruidyynäh before he, she didn't dance. Nor, in fact, did she sing. Instead, she recited what had to have been the most epic on-the-spot poem I had heard in a full year. It was all rhyming couplets, describing everything she had eaten that was on the table. The flavours and textures, the sounds of the crunching and the sipping of the rich wine. There was little that she left out, considering how many different dishes she apparently had. To be fair, I hadn't noticed she had tried so many things during the evening. It would be a full ten minutes before she had completed, smiling and bowing as many applauded her performance. There would be a few sour faces from the longtable, but we cared little about that. Jealousy could only plague us while we were in their sights. After this night, I intended to be long gone from this town, hopefully never to return.
"Much like my friend has, would I like to request something simple. Though you, Dame Emeraldfist, insist upon a weapon being claimed, would I request a lyre from the shop on the northwest edge of town. I saw it there, old and unloved, but still in great condition. The owner stated would he not sell it to me, for it ought only be in the hands of one who has earned its respect. Would this performance and request be enough to show due diligence? My voice is the best blade I could ever possess, and that lyre needs to be loved and shown to all and sundry again."
This time was it not Dame Elyycia who spoke up, but one of her nieces. What was stated could I not quite follow, for it was in some olden speech of the dwarven people. Something that I had never been taught growing up as a child. Some rite of passage, apparently, as Shéyriöa found herself being chanted at by more than a few of the pure blooded dwarves there. Some ceremony that happened almost spur of the moment, just like her poem. It was over in less than five minutes, but for my redheaded friend it was not quite over yet. An old coin was tossed to her by Dame Elyycia's niece that had an inscription on the back of it.
"Give this to that old codger who works there. You will not even need pay for it with any sort of favour. The lyre is yours, Shéyriöa. May it serve you well, and may you sing and perform before any noble dwarf before you as well as you have this night. Know that you have been acknowledged by this town as an adult of proper spirit and sight, and such is not to be taken lightly."
Shéyriöa bowed to the niece and then to Dame Emeraldfist herself, remaining quiet. Now that was completed, was I the last one. And with all eyes on me, did I not know what to say or do. So without much else, did I take a deep breath and sing. My eyes were closed the entire time, and my heart felt as if it would leap into my mouth. Was I no bard's boon by any means, so what flowed from my lips was a psalm to honour My Lady Neserva and all of her works and wonders. To do such in a town that mainly gave service to the Worldsmith was a grand risk for me, as I knew little of how much regard as a whole the town had for her. Still, it was all I could think of, with tears of fear streaming down my face as I continued to sing. Once the last note echoed from the back of my throat, did I open my eyes again. There did I see the Thaneson and his mate smirking at me quietly, shaking with withheld laughter. It was all I could do not to hide myself under the table - that, or fling a stone to hit him in the middle of his forehead. What happened next, though, will I remember for the rest of my life.
Dame Emeraldfist stood up from her most comfortable throne like seat and sang something into the air. It was a pleading to the Worldsmith for guidance and for patience. In some ways, it was like asking for a minor blessing. As she sang out, her voice echoed off the walls and reverberated deep within my bosom. Finding myself almost gasping for air, did I fall to my knees as if kicked. What I was told happened while I held myself in shock, was one of the rings on Dame Emeraldfist's finger actually slid off on its own and was floated through midair to me. The ring had a soft glow from it, like an aura. And once I raised my head, did I see the ring there before me, remaining right at my eye level.
"This is for you, little child of Neserva. Have I owned this ring for longer than you or your copper crowned companion been alive. From what I was told of it, said ring would be even older than your silver tressed confidante. I have worn it and kept it safe for one who truly had given their heart to our goddess of natural things. You, little child of Neserva, have. In such, this is your weapon. Your spirit calls to the ring, and the power entrusted to the obsidian and pearl answers. Know this well, young one, and you will understand the purpose and the true potential of the ring... and of yourself."
The great lady would then turn her attention to the rest of the party, pointedly ignoring her grandson's growling visage in my direction. Apparently such a treasure he believed ought naturally fall to him. Her clapping called for an end to the requests to the family, and for the party to truly begin. Dancers of many races then rushed in, beginning some grand performance of which I paid little attention to. Instead, I found myself hustled out of the great hall along with the human and the elf I had befriended from the day before. It seemed were we going to be bound together by fate for longer. One of the guards stated that by our actions and words, had we managed to arouse the interest of some less than desirable members of the town and surrounding area. He and a few others would escort us to the music store, then to our inn room, and then to the limits of the town's borders. They all showed us signet rings of the Silversinger Clan. That was the same clan as the courier who had brought me that notice all that time ago. Trusting them as much as we could, did we find ourselves riding behind them on horseback, their steeds moving through the late night swiftly.
The music store was, in fact, open. Apparently it was owned by a member of the Agateshimmer family, but a distant relative. Showing the old man that coin and giving it to him was more than enough for Deralterherr Agateshimmer, known curmudgeon and scowling champion, to crack a smile. The lyre, along with a fur-lined leather satchel were given most humbly and pleasantly to Shéyriöa. From there, were we hustled to the inn itself. Grabbing our things was easy, as had we all traveled with not that much to begin with. Outside of the inn, we found ourselves running right into a fight. Someone had sold us out to those trying to capture us for the wants of those people who the guardsmen had mentioned. Our escorts defeated them handily, but not without a few injuries. Dropping some coin on the counter for the innkeep, I demanded those wounded be given some rooms to rest within. The innkeep had some of his slaves help the men and women stagger up the steps to empty rooms, stating he would have done it for free. His hands covered the mehrials I had tossed down, showing he wasn't about to give up the money. Motioning to the back, the man told us and our escorts to take his horses for now. On the honour of his clan, Waterflame-Brightstone, nothing would happen to them. Thankfully for us, he was being honest about his honour, and the escorts got us safely to the border of the town's influence. From there, did we get on a night porter's barge to take us upstream along the river, to our next destination.
Now that, I will say, is a bachelor's party I shall never be able to forget...
current characters:
Prydain Mozenwrathe (Magi, smith, known to the Might Makes Right) ,
Ichilandar Shimmerstrike (dark elf, ranger, merchant) ,
Dasan (Sheykan, druid, real estate specialist)
