Turn 26, continued:
Nietzsche was whimpering and muttering, as he always did these days. Riet continued to feel pity for him, and wondered yet again why Fenneth had done this. Yes, Nietzsche had made a grab for power, but he had earned the respect of the people. Yes, he had ignored the messages and kept them hidden, but if Wijnfontein had been established too early, the Giants would have found it. Yes, he had abandoned Riet, but things hadn’t turned out all right? Where was the harm that he had caused? Whom had he hurt? Why had Fenneth done this?
Riet went over to Nietzsche and patted him on the back. Nietzsche merely shivered, and didn’t respond. Riet began to talk to Nietzsche and tell him of the old world. He spoke of his childhood, of his parents, of the war against the Dark Ones. He also spoke of the great peace afterwards, of the blissful time when the Ipetians wandered homeless but happy. He spoke of old stories told, old battles fought, old friends long gone. For hours, he talked to the mad Nietzsche, who sat in silence; hearing, but not listening.
As night began to fall, Riet began to speak less and less, until the two simply sat watching the stars come out. When the last rays of the sun were obscured by the dark gray of the night, Riet stood. “Nietzsche,” he said, “I don’t think that we understand each other any better than before. But perhaps, when your madness has left, things will be different between us. I wish only for friends and comrades, never enemies.” With that, he turned and walked back towards the city. Nietzsche stayed still, until the bliss of dreamless sleep was visited upon him.
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Turn 27:
“Riet, Riet!” The cry came from somewhere to the east. Riet abandoned the hare he had been tracking, and moved quickly to find its source. The speaker was Bericht, an up-and-coming youth, who showed great promise as a runner and tracker. At the moment, though, one would assume that he had never run before, on account of his near exhausted state. “Riet, it’s amazing…no one knows why…you have to come,” he said, gasping for air.
“Hold on now,” cautioned Riet, “You’ll faint if you go on like this. Breathe first, then tell me what’s going on.”
Bericht took a few moments to catch his breath, and exclaimed, “It’s the spring! The Winespring! It’s bubbling! Nobody knows exactly when it started, but now the surface is popping with little bubbles.”
Riet thought about it for a moment, and then remembered. “Bericht, do you know what time of year it is?”
“It’s the second moon of spring, waxing gibbous.”
Riet tried to think. What had the moon been when the spring had formed? He seemed to recall it as being a bright night, so likely the moon had been…full? “Bericht, I want you to run to the west, to Vriendingang. Tell everyone there that they have to be in Wijnfontein in a week’s time. And tell them to bring as much food and drink as they can carry.”
“Right away, sir,” reply the youth, and he got up and galloped off to the west. Riet shook his head; at that pace, the poor boy would collapse ere he was halfway there. Still, his eagerness was uplifting and Riet felt ready for the challenge ahead of him. He galloped back to Wijnfontein to send out other messengers and prepare the people for one huge celebration.
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It was the second full moon of spring, and the entire population of Wijnfontein was assembled. All the Ipetians from the surrounding hamlets had come, and though those far off in Buigend Riet could not be there, they too celebrated in their own homes. At the site of the half-completed temple they gathered, and waited as the sun set in the west.
When the full moon began to rise, a cloud formed above the gathering. Few noticed it, until a bright light came out of its depths, and began to descend on top of the clouds. A few were scared out of their wits, and ran away into the forest. Some cowered in front of it. Others stared at it, unable to move. Only Riet was unaffected. “Don’t you think that’s rather showy?” he whispered, smiling.
At last, the light came to rest above the Winespring, which was now bubbling like water on the boil. Suddenly, the bright luminescence ceased, and the Ipetians rubbed their eyes and tried to adapt to the weaker torchlight. Once the haze had gone, they saw an Ipetian standing knee-deep in the Winespring. In a booming voice, he called out, “Welcome, my friends. I am Fenneth, your host. Tonight, I hold, for you, the biggest shindig this world has ever known. This is the night for celebration. This is the night for happiness. But most of all, this is the night for Revelry!” The people were a little confused, but nevertheless began to cheer; they knew a speech when they heard one.
“But first,” interrupted Fenneth, “there is one small order of business to take care of. I ask for Nietzsche to step forward.” The crowd looked around, and parted to make a way for the madman. Someone quietly pushed him forward. When Nietzsche reached the edge of the spring, he saw Fenneth clearly, and jumped back in shock, surprise, and fear. Fenneth reassured him, “Do not be afraid. I have not come to put another burden on you; rather, I come to lift the one you have.”
Nietzsche slowly stumbled forward, and Fenneth smiled. “There are several reasons why I put you through this torment, most of which you would not understand. However, I can tell you that it was a preparation. Now that you have learned suffering, humility, and wisdom, you are ready for the task which shall be presented you. Your road is long and hard, but now you may know joy along its rout. Now, it is time to remove your curse.”
The god gestured, and a column of wine slowly rose out of the spring. On it sat a wooden goblet, filled to the brim. When it reached waist height, Fenneth grasped the cup in both hands, held it before Nietzsche, and pronounced, “Give strong drink to one who is perishing, and wine to one sorely depressed; When they drink, they will forget their misery, and think no more of their burdens.” Nietzsche took the cup, and looked at Fenneth, who smiled and commanded, “Drink, and be relieved of your knowledge. You need not be troubled anymore.”
Nietzsche drank. When the goblet was emptied, he bent down, filled it from the spring, and drank again. When he bent down for his third refill, Fenneth laughed uproariously. “Glad to see you enjoy it. But let us not keep the others from such a bounty. The celebration begins!” With this, the god thrust his hands upward, and a huge fountain burst forth from the spring, and soared to a height of twenty meters. As it began to rain wine, the Ipetians raised their glasses, which were almost instantly filled. They then proceeded drink and shout in joy.
As the fountain began to settle to a more manageable height, Fenneth call out, “Music, we must have music!” The musicians heard his call, and began to play a fast jig. Dances broke out everywhere, and everyone began to sing, shout, eat, and most of all, drink. Fenneth seemed to be everywhere; he was the wildest one, whooping, hollering, dancing, singing, eating, drinking and flirting with every maiden who passed. So it was, late into the night, and a good time was had by all.
As the party began to wear out, Reit caught sight of Fenneth slipping away into the woods. He intercepted the god, and said to him, “When you healed Nietzsche, you mentioned a task he was going to perform.”
“Indeed I did,” answered the god, smiling.
“Well?” intoned Riet, knowing that Fenneth knew his question.
“How should I know what it is? You’re the one that’s going to give it to him.” With a wink, the god dashed into the woods and disappeared.
Riet stood still for a moment, and found Silis standing with him. “That was your god?” questioned the ambassador, still somewhat in disbelief.
Riet smiled, “Yep; he has his quirks, but overall he’s a good one.”
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It was several weeks after the Dronkenacht, as the great festival was starting to be known as. Everyone had returned home, and a sense of normalcy had come back to Wijnfontein. Work on the temple now continued, and Riet had taken back to his old habit of walking in the early mornings. As he strolled by the reflection pool, he was confronted by Nietzsche. The now-sane Ipetian looked around, and bowed his head.
Taking a deep breath he started: “Riet, I’d like to apologize for acting against you. I…” But his apology was silenced as Riet embraced him.
“You were forgiven a long time ago, my friend.” Tears of joy began to run down both faces, as the two came to terms with one another. As they both let go, Riet looked at his comrade.
“Nietzsche,” he said, “you’re very intelligent, and Fenneth seems to believe you’ve gained wisdom.” Wondering if he was doing the right thing, Riet continued, “So, I’ve decided to put you to completing a task I’ve been putting off for some time now. I want you to be the official ambassador to the Roshanians. You’ll start training with Silis’s men tomorrow. Your team will consist of a group of 10 Ipetians besides yourself. You will leave when Autumn comes. Oh, and we’ll have to get you a messenger pidgin too…”
((There we go; a good two turns worth of RP. In turn 28, not much happens. Nietzsche learns Roshanian customs from Silis and his men, and work on the temple continues.))
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Topic: Battle of the Gods II: an RP Thread (Read 107348 times)