DM notes: I
cannot believe how quickly words spoken are misheard; misunderstood and
misconstrued...
We return to the
scene of the bafflement...
Following one of
the most confusing periods in their nocturnal activities, Martonis, Amaril and
Wik have heavy hearts - their friends, Morgan and Ooma have be vapourised by an
angry little Kobold, Martonis learning this only as they return to the castle!
After Amaril carefully explains, with tears flowing down his cheeks, to Lucy,
the men walk heavily up to their rooms.
As they are
dressing and gathering their belongings a loud loud loud scream pierces the
marble floors between them from below and our heroes, what's left of them, grab
what is within reach and race, taking the stairs two or three at a time until
they arrive on the main floor, and can see Lucy, her nanny, Mrs. K and two
others with their backs to them.
Lucy, spying them
points her finger at Amaril, "You lied! They're alive!" she is so
happy to have Ooma and Morgan with her. "Why did you do that?" Lucy
asks shaking her head, curls bouncing, a yawn escaping her jaw.
After the shock
of seeing Morgan and Ooma, unscathed, standing before them, Amaril can only
stutter, his words bumbling out.
“Your Majesty, I
truly thought they had perished, or I would never have burdened you so.” Amaril
has visions of being strung up for unintentionally lying to the Queen.
Ooma shakes her
head, “No, but I did see a bright light and heard a loud roar and the air
around me got hot and then I was here in the hall with Morgan.”
Lucy hugs her
fiercely. The group briefly chats and then, as Lucy yawns, precipitating
everyone yawning, Ooma suggests they return to bed and deal with things in the
morning.
This suggestion
is sleepily agreed to, and the party returns, each to their own bed. All are
awakened in the morning by a servant bringing hot chocolate, tea, coffee, milk,
cream and the bitter root coffee as well as croissants, butter and honey.
“Breakfast is being served in the dining room,” their maid advises.
Martonis and
Morgan both interrogate their maids.
Father Martonis
is satisfied that the girl is naught but a lowly serving girl of average
intelligence.
Morgan, after an
intense questioning, nods and, though wary, believes this girl knows nothing
more than what she’s told – her superior, this Marlene? Her he wants a word
with. And the alchemist? Something bothers Morgan about Mr. Green.
Going to
breakfast, Martonis, Ooma, Lucy and the nanny, Mrs. K enjoy a rich and artery
clogging meal and, as they are nearly done, Wik joins them. Lucy suggests a
picnic and the heroes smile and nod; they feel the need to keep her under their eye and
learn more about the inner workings of the castle guard.
In the meantime,
before breakfast, Wik heads to the basement to retrieve his new armour and
weapons. Morgan accompanies him, getting his mithril shirt. Trying their newly
fashioned armour on they both discover the fit to be so snug and comfortable
they hardly know they are wearing anything.
Morgan nods
tersely, thanking the clerks, turning and making his way to the alchemist’s,
where Amaril has just entered a locked and secured quarters whereas only
yesterday it had a light and friendly open door policy.
He speaks with
the alchemist, and is pleased with the responses when Morgan thunders his
presence, and, after the alchemist opens the door to him, steps inside, and the
door is relocked. Glaring accusingly at Mr. Green, Morgan’s intense stare
unnerving the poor fellow and nearly causing him to faint.
Under grilling
from Morgan he falls apart, certain of his utter ruin! Amaril steps between
Morgan and Mr. Green and holds his hands up convincing Morgan that Mr. Green
couldn’t have done the deed, although it calms Morgan, he is still positive
there is nefarious dealings afoot and he refuses to leave the alchemist alone,
watching him and making the poor man shaky as a wheat stalk on a windy day.
Amaril leaves for
a few minutes, returning with one of the vials Wik brought back from their
weird trip last evening and hands it to Mr. Green. “Can you identify this? Or
figure out the ingredients?”
Lifting his
spectacles he peers at the vial, titling it as he examines the viscous material
inside. “Yes, yes, I... well, I think I should be able to identify this. Yes.
Leave it with me for a day or two and I’ll run some tests with it.” He nods at
Amaril who agrees.
“Okay, I’ll do
that. Morgan, Queen Lucy has decided she wants a picnic; we’re getting ready to
leave. Are you coming?”
“Picnic?” scoffs
Morgan bluntly, “No, I’ll pass.” His intention of guarding the alchemist firmly
entrenched in his mind.
Amaril nods again
and lets himself out, the alchemist moving to lock the door nervously, Morgan
breathing down his neck.
Making his way to
the main floor, Amaril is directed to the back of the castle where a large and
fancy carriage sits, the door open, Wik just clamouring in. Amaril climbs up
behind him, nods to the ladies, and sits beside Wik, opposite Ooma, Lucy and
Mrs. K.
Martonis has
chosen a fine large dappled grey stallion to carry him as he prefers the room
to manoeuvre and feared the carriage too tight.
Wik entertains
Lucy with tales that make her giggle and clutch nanny’s hand in fright, before she once
again erupts into peals of laughter. The two-hour journey hardly felt like ten
minutes as they arrived on the shore of a large, blue coloured lake. The sandy
edge leading to a grassy level area with some hills and small dunes. Grass and
wildflowers grew in perfect harmony under the azure sky.
Ooma playing with
Lucy, complains that she (Ooma) needs some different clothes, “This armour is
too bulky to play easily in.”
Lucy, chuckling,
taps her armour and giggles loudly as it echoes. “You should ask the
dressmakers. They’ll make you different clothes,” she says matter-of-factly.
Ooma, the fashion
princess warrior, smiles, “I think I’ll do that when we return to the castle!
Thank you!” After pushing Lucy in the swing and playing other games, Ooma and
Mrs. K sit on rugs spread by the guards and Ooma shows her how to fashion daisy
chains.
Running low on
flowers, Lucy jumps up and skips a few feet away to a small knoll where they
can see a plethora of white daisies and she bends to pick them. A loud scream
erupts from her throat and she scrambles backward.
It is only
seconds before Ooma, Martonis, Wik and Amaril are standing looking at the body
of a young messenger, Ooma gathers Lucy to her and passes her to Mrs. K as she
lumbers up, who takes Lucy, hugging her, and removes her from the immediate
vicinity, to the shade of a tree, while the others, including two guards from
the castle, discuss the grisly discovery.
It quickly
becomes apparent that this is the messenger that was sent to retrieve Edith. A
quick search of his pouch and pockets reveal a note, that after a few moments
of study, Wik grins and quietly tells the group what it says.
It does not say
what they expect, (a dispatch urging Edith to come to the castle), and only
baffles them more as to the strange goings on in the castle. Ooma takes the
note to Mrs. K who, after reading it, appears confused and startled. She shakes
her head managing to convey in body language that she will not discuss the note
now, not with Lucy so distraught. Ooma nods.
They pack up the
picnic and head back to the castle, their light mood dampened severely. Wik,
using his skills as a story teller again, distracts Lucy with tales of their
journeys, (has it really only been a few weeks?) thus far.
While he holds
the little girl’s attention, Mrs. K leans to Ooma. “About the note? Lucy’s
birthday isn’t for months! I can’t understand this.”
They decide to
hold all talk of this new development until Lucy is out of earshot and they can
apprise Morgan of the events.
The carriage
clatters across the cobbles stones and comes to a halt in front of the castle;
footmen attend to their disembarkation...
The war room has
not seen a King in many years…
o0o
XP: 250XP each;
EXTRA-XP for those who write a story (with the Tavern at its centre...);
journal entry (of usefulness); or an insight into their character’s back
story... 50xp x character level, for one entry per week…
o0o
o0o
war is dreadfully
expensive...
fledgling Dungeon
Mistress,
khrys...
~*~*~*~
No comments:
Post a Comment
Suggestions are appreciated - and may be used against you in a full-on encounter...