Turn 3, A Lesson In Good HorsekeepingEdwin, disappointed by his lack of success at communicating with the corpse-eating man, who may very well be an orc and thus entirely justified in eating people on a regular basis, not merely as an occasional thing, decides to keep up an appropriately mild temperament and be patient with the fellow.
"Ah well, no matter. Let us enjoy the crackling of the flames, yes?" he says, and the man, though he understands little, nods along in the hopes that it is the right thing to do in this kind of situation.
The man's name is Laric, and he, much as Edwin suspects, is indeed an orc. But he is markedly unlike his peers tonight, for he has two horses and plenty of meat to eat. And an orc with two horses and plenty of meat to eat is unsurpassed in happiness by most creatures in this world - exceptions include the rare orc with three horses and plenty of meat to eat, the almost unheard-of orc with four horses and plenty of meat to eat, and the downright exceptional paragon that is an orc with five horses and plenty of meat to eat - a paragon partly because this orc figures in at least one orc folktale, that of Lulimar of Five Horses, who, upon the death of his four compatriots, rode out into the plains with their horses and screamed his soul out from sheer happiness, so happy was he. And also very dead upon the completion of his soul's departure - a classic cautionary tale among orcs informing the youth that there can, indeed, be too much of a good thing.
But Edwin knows blissfully little of orc folklore, and Laric knows this fact, and also the fact that the old man might have some form of valuables on him (not to mention the reasonably edible meat he definitely has). But he is simply too joyful right now to bother himself with such brutish violence - the old man has no horse, and so he has nothing Laric really wants all that badly. He may be opportunistic, but he has stabbed people before for calling him greedy! In fact, he finds that he is feeling very charitable presently, and offers the old man some of his food - the old man, evidently not a connoisseur of roasted travelers, seems to politely refuse. Laric is a mite offended, but he guesses it's not that much of a problem - more for him! And the horses, too!
The old man watches with quite a bit of wonder as Laric begins feeding his horses after having a bit of traveler himself - the horses, not quite used to this sort of food, eat only a little bit, even with all of the horse-whispering tricks Laric had been taught by his good friend Hilumic - bet he still has only one horse. Indeed, Laric is willing to bet that Hilumic may have even lost his first horse, and the thought makes Laric feel a tad superior, and he strokes the mane of his second horse in a manner he would stab someone for considering to be greedy. Noticing the old man looking at him, Laric feels disquieted, and begins to speak, almost by reflex, as if the reason he had moved over here was to explain to this old man, right here and right now, that this horse is of superior quality, at least after it is properly blooded, then extensively washed and brushed to get the human scent out of it.
And so he does - he begins to explain things about this horse, its rather nice hair, powerful legs, rather respectable running speed, presumably good fertility and more, and the old man, especially when Laric begins to point and gesture more expressively, seems to roughly understand what he seems to be getting at, and even seemingly comprehend some of Laric's simpler words. This continues for a good while before Laric realizes that he probably should get to packing up the finer bits of this human meat under his saddle, and promptly does so, still explaining some of the finer points of good horsekeeping to the old man intermittently. And when he's full up, he straightens out, looks at the old man, and merely nods knowingly, then steps over to his horse and, after tying it to his other horse, hops on and rides off slightly flippantly, leaving the rest of the corpse and the still-burning fire for the old man to do as wishes with.
As the orc rides off, Edwin feels a little awkward. For one, there still is a corpse here, very well-done by now, with its heart, liver, brain and intestines missing as well as quite a bit of its muscle. If somebody else were to happen along this scene, Edwin would probably find this somewhat difficult to explain. But having a sort-of conversation with an orc, he feels, may have been slightly worth it!
* * * * *
Brennus is taken aback by such a beastly practice as charging customers for a mere look at a map - highway robbery, that's what it is! But he, being the gentleman that he is, elects to start no trouble about it.
"I ain't got a pfennig, you mean to charge for a look? Bah! Where can I make a few coins, then? Something quick and fit for a man with iron in his back, not a coward!""Cleaning gutters, maybe. That'll put the fear into you real quick," the woman comments, but Brennus does not dignify that with an answer - he is far too big a man both mentally and physically to acknowledge such remarks, and though he may be a blaggard to rival most blaggards in most cases, he realizes that now is a time for some good honest work - people ought to need some help somewhere around here, right? And so he heads out in a quest for money.
Fortunately, he does not have to look for very long, as there does appear to be a fairly distressed young lady currently instructing an inept older man in unloading a cart of caskets, in fact! Brennus, knowing that his services are obviously needed, approaches the woman and introduces himself.
"You've obviously got caskets to unload, and I've got arms! A match made in heaven, no? I am Brennus, and I hold in my obscenely muscular biceps the solution to all of your problems!" he proclaims in a golden voice to the woman.
"Three pfennigs, and all this power can be yours! For carrying things! Seriously, feel these arms. Hard as a rock, they are, just like me as a whole! Hard man of the wilderness, that is most certainly me!" he continues, and the lady regards him quite interestedly.
"Ooh, you most certainly are an obscenely large individual! Was that arm-feeling invitation purely rhetorical?" she asks.
"Hard men of the wilderness are not familiar with the concept of rhetoric, milady!" Brennus replies, and proffers his right arm, flexing to the best of his ability.
"Ah! Ooh! Hm!" the lady says, judging Brennus' arm to be of sufficient firmness for the task.
"Well, give it a go! Succeed, and three pfennigs shall be yours!" she says, and Brennus immediately sets to the task, moving past the inept ancient working to move the caskets as if he weren't even there, and one by one lifting each casket out of the cart and carrying it where the lady tells him to, which happens to be inside the nearby undertaker's establishment, which provides Brennus with a good idea of why these seem to be empty. He even helps set up the casket displays most kindly, and the lady watches in awe at his quick work!
"My, you certainly are stronger than you look," the lady remarks when Brennus is finally done and stands before her, not even slightly red in the face from the mild exertion.
"I would not have thought that possible!" she says, and the inept old man, now taken up a spot inside the corner of the undertaker's shop, seems to agree. She looks through her coin purse a few moments, searching quite intently, but eventually gives up and hands Brennus half a guilder.
"Here's for your good work, with a bit on top for exceedingly good timeliness," she says.
"You are too kind, madam!" Brennus replies.
"But!" he then catches himself, raising a finger.
"Yeeees?" the lady says, leaning in toward him.
"Before I go, I do recall hearing something about druids! Do you know anything about them?" Brennus asks quite plainly.
"Erm," the lady says, leaning back a bit.
"Druids? There was one setting fire to the woods - buried him not three hours ago, in fact. Crazy bugger was hanged by the authorities. But they're all crazy buggers out there in the woods - they live in circles and eat only mushrooms, some say! And that you need to twist yourself naked through underneath a tree root to meet them, but I think that's a load of bollocks myself. They're probably just some blokes who live in trees out by the gnometowns. You know, those naturalist or refugee or whatever kind of blokes?" she explains, shrugging a great many times at the more uncertain bits.
"Thanks! I'll be going then!" Brennus says roughly and with great hardness, but, as he turns to leave, the lady calls after him.
"Um, excuse me, sir!" she says a bit sharply, looking more than a little nervous. Brennus turns to look at her questioningly.
"I was wondering, would you, say, care to dine with us tonight?" she asks uncertainly.
* * * * *
Emilia, having ascertained a great many valuable things from this map, decides to move on after thanking dear old Bantuk the Orc Strangler for his kindness and patience.
"Well, I'll leave you to your work. Thank you again. Take care," she says, and Bantuk grunts in response, which she takes as gracious acceptance of the not insignificant amount of gratitude. Going down the stairs and past the drunk greeter, she exits Bantuk's home and resumes her exploration of the town - much to her delight, it seems that the township of Bantuk's Bend appears to be built around its docks, which makes sense, given how it most certainly makes, or at least used to make its living from boats going down the river. Right now, though, there appear to be quite a few boats moored there, and whatever boatmen are visible seem fairly grim and more than a bit desperate.
Having found this out, and also that the market of the town is almost choking for lack of both merchants and goods, Emilia decides to look around for that fellow who offered her the weaving job. This is cut tragically short by the sudden realization that she never did find out where he lives, and that he doesn't seem to still be at the spot she met him at like any reasonable person would. She does notice a few of the men and women going down the street acknowledging her as they pass, and not in any displeased fashion. Guess word does indeed travel fast!
As for other things of note, the town seems to have little of that nature - however, Emilia does notice that there appear to be a great deal of abandoned houses, especially the nicer ones near the market area, and those seem to be undergoing early stages of dilapidation. Among the fringes of the town, the situation looks a bit more hopeful, or at least less eerily silent now that night seems dangerously close to falling.
* * * * *
Derek knows what the people want, being a man of them, and tells Ehran exactly what a man of taste and no wealth, a truly natural individual with no need for clothes or any other unnecessary convenience, should strive to obtain for a grand drinking experience.
"Authentic country ale! Not none of that city nonsense! Mead too, but only the good stuff. Well, long as the bleeding pub has some left after me escapades last night when the God Karse blessed me with yon elevation onto the rooftops... Come, let us drink, and discuss like men, and sit publicly nude like true believers.""Ale! Mead! And... nudity, I guess!" Ehran says, though he does not immediately reveal himself to the world, evidently still possessing some reservations - no matter, the booze should loosen him up well enough! And then the idea of God shall enter his mind most acceptably.
Fortunately, as it often tends to be when Derek wakes up, a pub, or rather a tavern, is not too far off, and he seems to remember coming in here just this morning, in fact! The tavern keeper seems to recognize him, fortunately.
"Hey! It's you again! Come for another round?"Derek merely snaps his fingers and grins at the man, and sits down with Ehran at one of the tables, and they both look around carefully until ale is brought - fortunately, the tavern keeper's son is very quick on that front, and soon the two men are brought their refreshing drinks, which they quickly finish, at which point Ehran has a question.
"So, why are you naked again?"* * * * *
Wilhelm, truly put off by the mere mention of horrendously boring trading information, decides to go for a bit of a walk in a few moments.
"I see... Well, if anyone comes here looking for me, tell them that I'll be back sometime later this evening," he tells the innkeeper, who politely nods, and then leaves at a leisurely pace, heading out of the doors of the inn for a walk that he most certainly has no intention of returning to this inn from. For goodness' sake, he'd turn to dust if he was subjected to another round of trade talk at a time like this.
Outside, he is greeted by the sight of a rather small fortified settlement, seemingly based all around the inn, which seems to have been placed on the center of a hill. Though the sunset is best visible from the other side of the inn, Wilhelm finds the sky most palatable presently. And the town seems practically idyllic - not very surprising, given its very close proximity to somewhat wealthy people. He can spot a whole host of amenities downhill from here, from blacksmiths to jewelers to tailors, and a rather huge building he recognizes as a stable - must be a whole mess of horses in there. In addition, the wall surrounding the settlement appears to be very well-manned and replete with guard towers - all in all, quite the enclave they've got set up here.
Derek: 5 MP
Wilhelm: 6 MP
Emilia: 5 MP
Edwin: 5 MP
Brennus: 5 MP
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Topic: Birth of a Deity: Turn 17, Multitudinous Failures of Words (Read 25828 times)