Chapter One - The Banquet

[Mila Metariel]

I hate these 'horse' things

Mila had had nothing but trouble with these horse-drawn carriages that strung her from place to place on this peculiar continent, from each equally oddly-named province and town to another, lost in a mish-mash of queer sounding syllabelles that her Zhunite tongue could barely wrap themselves around. These strange gruffling beasts were the quickest way to travel, however. Master Ziron would be occupied for much longer in his document compilations, and such an activity wouldn't require her services as a bodyguard.

Clutching the leathery piece of parchment that was addressed to her, despite lacking any permanent address, Mila waited as this wooden contraption darted throughout the winding streets of yet another unfamiliar city. She was stunned how anyone could find there way in such a bewildering place. At least Marmarra had a geometric design!

As the buildings passing the small window in the carriage's frame grew in their stature Mila came to wonder how powerful her host for this occasion actually was. Some of these homes matched the grandeur of the Kogianates. Well not really, but they were impressive nonetheless. The clip-clop of the beasts drawing the carriage quickly extinguished itself as the unusual creature came to a halt.

'This be the place madam' murmured the carriage driver, who's name she had impolitely forgotton.

'Thank you' she said with an almost insincere bluntness, leaving the carriage into the fluttering breeze of the orange sunset, the slight heels of her thigh length boots clacking agaisnt the stony ground in a manner reminiscient of the horses that brought her here.

As the grey Gondolsilk cloak that covered her purple corset was drawn into the wind along with her tempestous red hair, Mila mulled in her head what the custom was at such grim functions on this continent.

Will it be like a Tarshiinite funeral, with gifts for those attending? Or worse a Tsohamin one where I'll be expected to help with the cremation of the corpse?! Its one thing to turn up to a funeral of a man you are unsure you ever met, but to help destroy what remains of him exceeds the mark surely!

Mila continued to approach a stern but hospitable looking man dressed in the attire that she had learned expressed you were not of noble birth rite yourself, but had the bittersweet occupation of being immersed in their world, never being able to touch the grandeur.

Such is servitude...

Meeting her warm brown eyes with those of the servant attending the door, Mila brandished the letter she had been given inviting her to this function.

'It is such a shame that the first letter I receive in this Kingdom should be one beckoning me to such a tragic occasion, but am I correct in assuming this is the Johannes residence?'

[Deklitch Hardin]

"No, I'm afraid there won't be any more music for the time being. But how about you all tell me about yourselves, how you know the Johannes, et cetera," Myrach said with a sudden, cold change of tone. One could almost imagine his cynical brows raising in derision of the guests, but anything his face might have betrayed was concealed by his black hood. He turned his head abruptly, looking at the halfling on the other side of the orc. "Would you like to start, young one? ...Oh, how rude of me! Interrupting a conversation like that. I do apologize."

Deklitch hesitated, the warning of Jenna from earlier still going through his head, the warning of the Rovers still going through his head, the beating he had suffered when he tried to find out about his mother going through his head, and he felt to his stomach at that point ... it was more the memories than any lingering pain that he still felt as a result of that beating ... he had known from past experience that when someone wanted to keep something hidden that they would do anything to keep it hidden, and so, this youth who was mostly truthful, spun a story that only partially resembled the truth. The pause, continued, and Dek noticed the eyes of people on him, and he realised they were waiting for him.

"I suppose that I'm beginning," Dek commented.

"My father and my mother met about fifteen years ago," he said, "she lived in Astan, he was a Black Butterfly Rover, she was a town girl. Nine months later, I was born, and she was almost killed as she refused to let them take me away from her. So mum and I joined dad at the Black Butterfly Rovers. She was killed two years or so after we joined ... when a horse stampeded. I really have no memories of her."

Dek paused and then continued, "I grew up as a Rover, I was taught to do acrobatics and later on to sing. On a few occasions I tried to find out about my mother, but was unsuccessful each time. With the latest attempt resulting in me being beaten by people who didn't want me to know the truth about it. I am still looking for the truth about it. Most are telling me that she wasn't who I think she was ... but I remember things about it ... I suspect that she was something more than what I have been told. I think she was likely a daughter of a merchant or something like that." Something like that, Deklitch thought, would any of them possible believe that?

Another pause, and then, "I know that we performed in these parts not long ago. I think that maybe the Johannes watched us perform. Maybe Caol knows something about my mother that he wants to tell me. I don't know. But I'm here."

Dek looked around the table, and said, "that's it for me."

[Toama SorInyt]

Toama was quickly lost between the unfamiliar sounds of an orc jaw forming Tharian letters (even if they were coming out better than her own), the lady's shrill voice and the lord's booming merriment. She looked from one to the other, trying to follow and look interested at the same time, but when Godwin was looking at her and the orc expectantly she had no idea what he had just asked.

Luckily she was spared the embarrassment of answering a question she had not heard by the food coming in - luckily carried on plates by servants. For a while at least, she had the excuse of devoting herself to her food, sparing her more conversation with the fat lord and his obnoxious wife. After a while, she turned to the orc opposite her, hoping that Godwin would find someone else to talk to.

"I am beink curious. You say before, you get letter, but do not know... dead person? Are you maybe in knowink of how these letter find you? I also did receive letter, but I am not knowink why, or how. Also I am thinkink in my head that maybe other people here are also like this, yes?" She regarded the alien face in front of her curiously, wondering if he might have some more information than she had.

[Grom Hazl'r]

A woman, a soldier by stance, seated herself near the white knight. He seems to be quite popular tonight... But did she just glare at me for a moment? She wouldn't be the first orc hater I've met, but definitely one of the most dangerous... His thoughts were interrupted by the man speaking up again. ""No, no, my dear. No, I believe the man- er, he was referring to the son, young Caol Johannes, my dear. Weren't you, ah, sir? I'm not sure if he's here yet, hasn't shown up, anyway. Poor lad. Always been a cynical lad, at least the here-and-there times I've visited with him, but I can't say what his father's death has done to him." The turn of the conversation brought back memories of Grom's childhood and the loss of his friend. One day Lars... One day I'll be strong enough...

 With a sudden burst of cheeriness, he continued. "But there! Too much solemnity is bad for the soul, you know! It is a funeral and all, but myself, I can't see why every minute of it has to be somberness and grief!" Winking, "Lady Estrilda and I, we're just here for the reading of the will!" The man's chest barreled with laughter at the dark humor. His wife was quick to chastise him, "Oh, Lord Godwin, such disgrace for the deceased! Oh, how can you, my lord! My nerves, my nerves!" Undaunted, the man continued with his jokes. "Well... That and the food!" Godwin's grin was something akin to a laughing wolf.

"Oh, hush, Estrilda dear, it's all right. Ah... Seriously, however, I am sad to see the old fellow go... Kind of cowardly chap, he was, but he always had a proverb or two for me. Ah yes,  I can remember quite a few of them. Perhaps he gave a few to you? Remember any good ones?" Grom was more than bit stunned at what Godwin had just shared with him and the woman across from him. These humans must be mad! I've never met a man so free with his views of other people. In fact, I've never met a man so jovial about death! This man Johannes sure was strange, but then all humans are strange. Regaining his bearings, Grom answered, "I do not, as I said before, I did not even know the man... But I do recall one from my own childhood. 'Before you take more than you can handle, remember that you can't put any back.' Although, I've found it has different uses than just food." Grom smiled to himself at his "joke" as the food arrived.

While he enjoyed the fine meal being served, the woman across from him spoke up. "I am beink curious. You say before, you get letter, but do not know... dead person? Are you maybe in knowink of how these letter find you? I also did receive letter, but I am not knowink why, or how. Also I am thinkink in my head that maybe other people here are also like this, yes?" The words she spoke left Grom thinking through what she had just said. It was the first time he had heard a human stuttering when speaking Tharian. She must be from a strange land indeed... To Toama, "That thought had crossed my mind as well. I find it highly unlikely that one man would meet so many strangers if he were a noble, especially since they all seem to be from different corners of the world. As to how the letter found me, that I cannot say. I haven't stayed in one place long enough to call anywhere home." He paused slightly,"That's a very unusual accent you have, if I may ask, where do you come from?" He winced as pain shot up his back. Confounded back! I should see if there's a healer among the guests here. It's worth a shot when I get the chance to ask around. He grimaced through the pain as he waited for the woman's answer.

[Foraste Lydan]

"It's my understanding that the Compendium does plenty of entries on various persons across the disk, no? Well if I do say so, the Dorwillen family is one that should be of great interest to you, great interest. Lots of interesting people in it, if you hadn't guessed...hehe...well, I think you'll find, if you'd just listen to me for a little while, that I am not only part of such a wonderful heritage," Foraste listened to Terric babble. If Foraste turned in an entry while he was on vacation, he may get a few extra sans.

Foraste kept an ear on Terric while he glanced back at the room, Mr. Johannes has not arrived, I wonder where our host is hiding? Foraste pondered.
Terric had finished with his accomplishments and Foraste asked him,"why don't we start with the Dorwillen family tree, then your childhood." He reached into one of his many pockets an pulled out a leather notebook and a pen and prepared to write,

[Jenna Silverbirch]

"Would you like to start, young one? ...Oh, how rude of me! Interrupting a conversation like that. I do apologize." The fellow’s hidden eyes seemed to turn to Jenna and a shiver shot down her chest. Words deserted her for a moment, but a moment later Deklitch piped in-"I suppose that I'm beginning,"

Jenna listened carefully as young master Hardin told his tale. Most lads his age worrit about this and that and who they are and where they come from, she thought, but few have so much reason to be that way.
“As I said before, lad, a sad tale.” she said, still rolling her pipe’s stem between her finger and thumb. “And now I suppose it’s my turn, good sir.” She eyed the hooded figure, not bothering to conceal her distrust. Why should I? she thought. There’s a man who gets a thrill from being high-and-mighty and frightening-like. I can’t say out and out that this whole Johannes business is a mystery to me, no, that’d please him too much, to have it confirmed that I don’t deserve to be here.  But if I tell him some untruth…it would be even worse if I found out I’d lied outright. Something twixt the two, I think.
She smiled sweetly and leaned forward, chin on her hand, elbow on the table.
“I suppose it’d be my turn to spin a little tale, then?” she said. “I’m glad to see you enjoy a story, sir, even if a song ain’t to your liking.” Oh, but I’m sure there’s a reason to this questioning asides pleasant chit-chat, she thought grimly, still smiling. What are you trying to find out, you slippery creature?

She was about to begin when the hall’s doors were thrust open and a stream of servants poured in, each holding a tray of glistening food. Her sickly smile widened and became quite genuine.
“A veritable feast!” she exclaimed, profusely thanking the young man who set down a plate of toasted bredgrain before her and setting down her pipe, her urge to have a smoke replaced by ravening hunger. “Though I suppose it is a banquet. This portion’s a bit on the smaller side, though.” She had devoured the appetiser in minutes and sat back. Eating had only increased her appetite it seemed and her stomach let out a low growl. Well, she thought, that’s why it’s called an appetiser.
“Apololgies, sirs and madam. But we small folk do enjoy food. Them who don’t can’t enjoy anything in life, my ma used to say.” She was preparing to begin her story once more, when another servant promptly whisked away her plate, to be replaced by a steaming fish soup, and all her attention was again on eating. When her bowl was wiped clean with a hunk of loibl, she once more relaxed, sipping her cup of cha’ah.

“I’ve never been much of a drinker” she said to no one in particular, nodding towards her cup. “And I always liked a good brew better’n wine. So! About myself. Well, I’m a hobbit, as I’m sure you all can see, though I’m not from them marshes-from those marshes down south,” she quickly corrected her grammar, switching from her comfortable hobbit-accent into more formal tones. “I suppose none of you will have heard of the dogodan shire, though. It’s even further south, in the place big folk call enthronia. A beautiful, warm place it is. I’ll go back, one day, but for now I’m travelling the world for not much reason other than to see it all. Not that imaginative, is it? Every other farmboy seems to dream of that these days.  See, I’ve always loved tales, whether I’m telling them or reading them or hearing them. So I make what money I need from telling this or writing that. I’d been in the employ of a rich fellow over in Astran before I came here. You see, Johannes, bless his soul twice fold, was familiar with my work, I believe. Was something of a patron of mine.” The lie slipped out easily, startling her. Well, she had had some mysterious wealthy patrons in the past. “So I just feel mightily honoured to have been invited to such a noble-get together, of which I am clearly not worthy.” With her last words she shot a narrow-eyed glance at Myrach. Her story-fuelled mind had decided this man was a rotten sort who could be up to no good, and it would take a great deal to change that opinion.

Thankfully, her pork and vegetables arrived soon after she had finished, along with a white haired man, preventing her from answering any more questions.

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