Gumblackwood
08-30-2005, 11:51 AM
Brath Cornerstone, owner of the Cornerstone Inn and Pub in the Human town of Razorgrass, was a racist. So, it hardly went against his nature that he planned to refuse the next non-human he saw entrance to his establishment. Despite the excessive laughter and drunken conversation that showed his bar had a full patronage for the evening and would have full rooms for the night, he still eyed one booth constantly between hurrying barmaids and yelling at the other help, mumbling about how the foreigners were scaring away his usual customers.
The two guests hardly deserved the scorn. In the week they had spent in Razorgrass, the two had together saved the town from starvation. Simply claiming they were in town 'waiting for someone', Stoen Rockbreaker and Retha Sunleaf set about bettering a town where the only well had recently dried up and the crop of razorgrass was dying slowly. With the precision and apparent intuition known of Mountain Men, Rockbreaker had found and dug two new wells from hills the locals had assumed dry, and a hidden spring provided additional moisture to newly dug irrigation ditches. Sunleaf, proving herself as adept in plant magic as any Indriri, travelled to each ailing field, and with the help of the new water, brought forth crops that would surely become a bounty. Field workers came in great numbers to assist with the bounty crops, and tradesmen were also travelling to the town, filling the local bars and inns, even though the town had seemed almost deserted the week before.
Brath certainly didn't enjoy the hushed tones of the two, even though they seemed excited about something. He took every opportunity to deliver the duo's requested ale and dewdrink. At least he was relieved that he did not have to provide rooms for the two, Rockbreaker slept in a crawlspace between the inn and kitchen, and Sunleaf preferred a copse of trees beyond the kitchen garden.
"Are you sure they don't know?" Retha's eyes flickered about the room as she giggled, though it was impossible to tell where precisely she looked, her amber eyes entirely of the color of the inner wood of a Sunleaf tree. A small barky hand lightly gripped a flute filled with a clear, bubbly liquid.
"Aye!" Stoen replied in a gruff but quiet voice, downing another full mug of dark ale, "All this calling me 'Sir' is annoying as fool's gold, Retha, I know humans aren't intelligent, but I'd think they would recognize the shape of my breastplate."
"Maybe it's the beard," Retha laughed again, her orbs flickering to the door, "oh, here he is finally."
Retha wasn't the only one that noticed, Brath quickly closed in on the stranger outlining the door. The cloak and hood kept most of the newcomer's features well-hidden, but the way he walked and had to duck to enter the door, as well as a few patches of black fur showing, Brath had correctly assumed the stranger exactly the non-human he had been waiting to throw out as soon as he could. Where he had erred in his assumption was his belief that this stranger was some sort of Doggerel, the dogmen he had heard lived somewhere in the mountains to the North. In fact, the stranger stood much taller than any of the dogmen, and it intimidated the owner.
Brath dragged Rau, his son and sometimes bouncer, from a cubby near the kitchen where he was poring over a hastily-written note. "C'mon boy, we've got a 'guest' that could use removing, and stop reading those blasted letters."
The guest had already leaned his staff, covered in intricate runes, hanging gourds and other identifiable objects. He scanned the pub, passing over the crowd, which had burst into various drunken songs, until his hidden eyes seemed to stop on the foreign pair.
"Ahem!" Brath coughed and the stranger looked down. Green-tinted Firelight reflected from eyes deep in the hood. Brath gulped, "We have no room remaining this night, and barely any room at the tables. I hate to turn down a prospective customer, but the room is hard enough to control at the moment, you'll have to take your patronage elsewhere." He pointed at the heavy front door, which had mysteriously closed behind the stranger.
"Hrrrmmm..." purred the stranger, "but I have business here, and the bench over by my friends has cleared up." Indeed, Stoen had dropped beneath the table and come up next to Retha. The Indriri waved as Brath looked over.
"You'll, umm, have to save your business for tomorrow. I have a rule against shady business going on in my inn," Brath lied, "now please leave, or Rau here will escort you." Rau had already wandered off, and was talking merrily with a couple of the barmaids.
"Ahh, I see our problem." The reflective eyes closed, leaving the space within the stranger's hood pitch black. The stranger began humming, and Brath just stared motionless into the hood. While Brath remained startled, a gloved hand came up between them, rapidly tracing several lines in the air. It stopped, seemed to grab as onto a piece of rope. Giving it a twist, Brath suddenly found himself walking happily into the kitchen. He spent the rest of the evening yelling at cooks, completely ignoring his hatred of the guests out in the pub.
"That was amazing, Exile," Retha said as the stranger sat down across from her and Stoen. Hardly anyone noticed as the stranger removed his hood revealing a totally black feline face. Lines seemed to shimmer deep within his jet black fur and the blackness in his eyes seemed to go on forever. Had anyone in the crowded pub cared to look, they would have seen a creature out of legend, for the Exile was the only of his kind in the northern hemisphere.
"Do it again," Stoen grunted from beneath a tipped mining helmet, "you know we like to guess how you do it." The drink had finally gotten to the Mountain Woman, she was nearly snoozing at the back corner of the bench.
"Thread magic and prophecy are not toys to play with," the Exile said with a slight growl, "but there is one I have seen here tonight I wish to help before I talk business with you two."
More tracing with hands and closed eyes, this time, the Exile used both hands to bring together two of the invisible strings. Raucous laughter and cheering erupted from another part of the bar. Rau had just grabbed up a barmaid with flowing gold hair, and was carrying her bodily up the stairs to the owners' quarters. They both had the same smile between long kisses.
"Both of them have exchanged love letters for a long time. Tonight they will finally be lovers, but tomorrow the call to war will take him away," the Exile's eyes met a glare from the Indriri, "No, Retha, despite what I have seen in their threads, I do not know whether he will ever see his future son."
"Now," He returned to the pair he had come to meet, "I have stalled fate long enough from returning you both back to those who you wished to leave forever." Stoen visibly squirmed at the last words. "Their threads pull back at you both harder than ever. My only suggestion now is to head to the coast. I'd say the best bet is to the west, there is a Cutter there by the name Zizwazzle. He has some rediculous title, but he has a great ship..."
"No!" Stoen shouted, interrupting the catman, but not getting much attention from the rest of the bar, as they had began a rowdy song to celebrate their friends upstairs, "I'll have nothing to do with riding over water on a rotting board. You of all people should know of the Lost Mountain Men wandering the ocean depths forever, I'd rather not join them."
"Shush Stoen," Retha sat her friend back down, "you know how important this is, I'd rather let him finish, then we can decide if you want to go back to your husband or not." Stoen's skin darkened a bit, but she motioned the Exile to continue.
"Yes, well, hrrmmm," the Exile started again, "I see no other way, but you may remain on shore safely as long as Zizwazzle doesn't have a captain. At the rate he's going it could take years. You'll find him and the crew he's gathered so far on the northern docks of the city of Westfen. You two must hurry yourselves as I leave, else those chasing you will catch up. Know that by helping those here as you have and as I had hoped you would, this town will survive the coming wars, but you have attracted the attention of those you don't want."
"And with that, I must go, you understand that I must do what I can in the coming days to avoid catastrophe." The Exile seemed to float to his staff and out of the bar. The black cat disappeared in the darkness outside immediately.
The bounty hunters found no trace of the two they sought as they reached Razorgrass the following morning. Having heard of an Indriri and Mountain Man pair doing spectacular feats in this town, they could not seem to gather any information from the inhabitants, as they reached the town shortly after a herald and recruiter, actively taking all the able-bodied young men off to a new war to the East.
The two guests hardly deserved the scorn. In the week they had spent in Razorgrass, the two had together saved the town from starvation. Simply claiming they were in town 'waiting for someone', Stoen Rockbreaker and Retha Sunleaf set about bettering a town where the only well had recently dried up and the crop of razorgrass was dying slowly. With the precision and apparent intuition known of Mountain Men, Rockbreaker had found and dug two new wells from hills the locals had assumed dry, and a hidden spring provided additional moisture to newly dug irrigation ditches. Sunleaf, proving herself as adept in plant magic as any Indriri, travelled to each ailing field, and with the help of the new water, brought forth crops that would surely become a bounty. Field workers came in great numbers to assist with the bounty crops, and tradesmen were also travelling to the town, filling the local bars and inns, even though the town had seemed almost deserted the week before.
Brath certainly didn't enjoy the hushed tones of the two, even though they seemed excited about something. He took every opportunity to deliver the duo's requested ale and dewdrink. At least he was relieved that he did not have to provide rooms for the two, Rockbreaker slept in a crawlspace between the inn and kitchen, and Sunleaf preferred a copse of trees beyond the kitchen garden.
"Are you sure they don't know?" Retha's eyes flickered about the room as she giggled, though it was impossible to tell where precisely she looked, her amber eyes entirely of the color of the inner wood of a Sunleaf tree. A small barky hand lightly gripped a flute filled with a clear, bubbly liquid.
"Aye!" Stoen replied in a gruff but quiet voice, downing another full mug of dark ale, "All this calling me 'Sir' is annoying as fool's gold, Retha, I know humans aren't intelligent, but I'd think they would recognize the shape of my breastplate."
"Maybe it's the beard," Retha laughed again, her orbs flickering to the door, "oh, here he is finally."
Retha wasn't the only one that noticed, Brath quickly closed in on the stranger outlining the door. The cloak and hood kept most of the newcomer's features well-hidden, but the way he walked and had to duck to enter the door, as well as a few patches of black fur showing, Brath had correctly assumed the stranger exactly the non-human he had been waiting to throw out as soon as he could. Where he had erred in his assumption was his belief that this stranger was some sort of Doggerel, the dogmen he had heard lived somewhere in the mountains to the North. In fact, the stranger stood much taller than any of the dogmen, and it intimidated the owner.
Brath dragged Rau, his son and sometimes bouncer, from a cubby near the kitchen where he was poring over a hastily-written note. "C'mon boy, we've got a 'guest' that could use removing, and stop reading those blasted letters."
The guest had already leaned his staff, covered in intricate runes, hanging gourds and other identifiable objects. He scanned the pub, passing over the crowd, which had burst into various drunken songs, until his hidden eyes seemed to stop on the foreign pair.
"Ahem!" Brath coughed and the stranger looked down. Green-tinted Firelight reflected from eyes deep in the hood. Brath gulped, "We have no room remaining this night, and barely any room at the tables. I hate to turn down a prospective customer, but the room is hard enough to control at the moment, you'll have to take your patronage elsewhere." He pointed at the heavy front door, which had mysteriously closed behind the stranger.
"Hrrrmmm..." purred the stranger, "but I have business here, and the bench over by my friends has cleared up." Indeed, Stoen had dropped beneath the table and come up next to Retha. The Indriri waved as Brath looked over.
"You'll, umm, have to save your business for tomorrow. I have a rule against shady business going on in my inn," Brath lied, "now please leave, or Rau here will escort you." Rau had already wandered off, and was talking merrily with a couple of the barmaids.
"Ahh, I see our problem." The reflective eyes closed, leaving the space within the stranger's hood pitch black. The stranger began humming, and Brath just stared motionless into the hood. While Brath remained startled, a gloved hand came up between them, rapidly tracing several lines in the air. It stopped, seemed to grab as onto a piece of rope. Giving it a twist, Brath suddenly found himself walking happily into the kitchen. He spent the rest of the evening yelling at cooks, completely ignoring his hatred of the guests out in the pub.
"That was amazing, Exile," Retha said as the stranger sat down across from her and Stoen. Hardly anyone noticed as the stranger removed his hood revealing a totally black feline face. Lines seemed to shimmer deep within his jet black fur and the blackness in his eyes seemed to go on forever. Had anyone in the crowded pub cared to look, they would have seen a creature out of legend, for the Exile was the only of his kind in the northern hemisphere.
"Do it again," Stoen grunted from beneath a tipped mining helmet, "you know we like to guess how you do it." The drink had finally gotten to the Mountain Woman, she was nearly snoozing at the back corner of the bench.
"Thread magic and prophecy are not toys to play with," the Exile said with a slight growl, "but there is one I have seen here tonight I wish to help before I talk business with you two."
More tracing with hands and closed eyes, this time, the Exile used both hands to bring together two of the invisible strings. Raucous laughter and cheering erupted from another part of the bar. Rau had just grabbed up a barmaid with flowing gold hair, and was carrying her bodily up the stairs to the owners' quarters. They both had the same smile between long kisses.
"Both of them have exchanged love letters for a long time. Tonight they will finally be lovers, but tomorrow the call to war will take him away," the Exile's eyes met a glare from the Indriri, "No, Retha, despite what I have seen in their threads, I do not know whether he will ever see his future son."
"Now," He returned to the pair he had come to meet, "I have stalled fate long enough from returning you both back to those who you wished to leave forever." Stoen visibly squirmed at the last words. "Their threads pull back at you both harder than ever. My only suggestion now is to head to the coast. I'd say the best bet is to the west, there is a Cutter there by the name Zizwazzle. He has some rediculous title, but he has a great ship..."
"No!" Stoen shouted, interrupting the catman, but not getting much attention from the rest of the bar, as they had began a rowdy song to celebrate their friends upstairs, "I'll have nothing to do with riding over water on a rotting board. You of all people should know of the Lost Mountain Men wandering the ocean depths forever, I'd rather not join them."
"Shush Stoen," Retha sat her friend back down, "you know how important this is, I'd rather let him finish, then we can decide if you want to go back to your husband or not." Stoen's skin darkened a bit, but she motioned the Exile to continue.
"Yes, well, hrrmmm," the Exile started again, "I see no other way, but you may remain on shore safely as long as Zizwazzle doesn't have a captain. At the rate he's going it could take years. You'll find him and the crew he's gathered so far on the northern docks of the city of Westfen. You two must hurry yourselves as I leave, else those chasing you will catch up. Know that by helping those here as you have and as I had hoped you would, this town will survive the coming wars, but you have attracted the attention of those you don't want."
"And with that, I must go, you understand that I must do what I can in the coming days to avoid catastrophe." The Exile seemed to float to his staff and out of the bar. The black cat disappeared in the darkness outside immediately.
The bounty hunters found no trace of the two they sought as they reached Razorgrass the following morning. Having heard of an Indriri and Mountain Man pair doing spectacular feats in this town, they could not seem to gather any information from the inhabitants, as they reached the town shortly after a herald and recruiter, actively taking all the able-bodied young men off to a new war to the East.