Gran Soren, the beating heart of all gransys. It is a grand city secured behind a great wall and fortified from all directions, guards are never off duty and the watchman never stops his watch, intruders are seldom brave enough to even approach the city let alone enter it, but those who do have a spark of curiosity, enough to breech the city's defence are quickly dispatched without even a considerable fight.
The residents lived in absolute security and with the economy on the rise there was little for them to worry about.
Now if you where to come into this city from the grand front gate, you would be greeted by a small town square. A herbal shop will stand to your right emitting strange but comforting odours, a little way along an armourers stands ready to offer means of protection to anyone…anyone who could pay, and opposite you an inn of great fame was placed with doors open to all weary travellers. This town square had suffered great damages before the new duchess came to power, such as the entire thing collapsing into a never ending pit of eternal doom, but it had been quickly filled in and built over to keep trade coming and not going…and preferably not down the hole. However the fountain was yet to be replaced leaving a big empty gap in the centre of this square much to the disgust of the residents who held this fountain in the highest regard. Aside from the hustle and bustle of travellers, traders and residents, this really was a lovely town square, but not where our story takes place.
It has been five years since the destruction of the Dragon and sudden death of the Duke, the court was thrown into a panic as to who would take his place and rule after him as the duke had no heirs and no close relatives, his wife had died mysteriously a few months earlier and the majority of his highest ranking officers where killed in battle prior the dragons death, all who remained where either not of a suitable age, mortally wounded or simply not interested in the job. All eyes turned to the Arisen, a brave and reliable woman born in a humble fishing village and who had grown to be the most respected and trusted warrior, it was she who slaughtered the great wyrm and returned peace to the land of Gransys, it was rumoured she had also been the one to kill the Duke but those rumours where quickly hushed as she was ushered into his place, becoming overnight Duchess and Grand Arisen, leader of all Gransys, a long and elaborate title that was seldom used other than in formal occasions, which as it happened, seldom took place.
Order was not delayed in being restored; the gaping hole in the centre of the town square was quickly resolved by being filled in and paved over, defences around the city and along its road was doubled almost over night, (no one quite knows where she got the men from) and finally the dukes banners where removed from every pole and replaced with the Arisen's new coat of arms, a flaming reptile eye.
'Twas not the prettiest of logo's to be pasted all over the land, but it served it's purpose, all who looked upon it knew that the woman seated upon the throne was the destroyer of destruction and the restorer of tranquillity, she was never questioned and was obeyed absolutely, it was never doubted that the five years she had sat on the throne would grow to years immeasurable.
Now you know a little about the city and the one ruling over it, I think it's time we returned to the town square and took a right at the inn. This road will lead to a series of houses and smaller, less prominent shops and if you where to continue down several twits and turns, loose your way, backtrack a little, take a left, then a right then stopped completely you would find yourself standing directly in front of the Daffodil Inn. It is unlikely you would have heard of this place, few have as it is so tucked away and no larger than a small house. This Inn was owned by a surly middle aged woman named Petunia and her daughter Olive, not a very pretty name for a girl but one that gave great delight to her mother, whose own mother had choked and thus died on the very thing that now served as her granddaughter's moniker.
Petunia had been born with a frown, and a mouth that was only capable of one expression; a miserable grimace should any emotion be desired. She was one of those women who knew she was ugly and accepted it and made no attempt to rectify her unappealing countenance, her dark hair was always bundled up beneath a grey or brown bonnet, despite it perhaps being her only redeeming feature, it being long, dark and lustrous with only a few streaks of grey, a rarity in women her age. Her sallow pink skin hung over her face as if it had given up doing anything and stuck to her bones where wet clothes stick to skin, sagging down where there was nothing to prop it up. A face this unappealing is always in need of a distinctive feature and petunia had just that in the form of a mole that lingered on her ample cheekbone like a great fat fly that refused to leave a branch, this served as a rather fascinating spectacle to the young children of the city as it seemed to grow weekly. You're probably envisioning a scrawny skeleton of a woman but that's not the case, as she was rather filled out, not large but well filled; she was certainly no starving pauper. And just to top off this woman's look, she had a hunch, not a great big chin-touching-the-floor hunch but a hunch that would have looked better on a disinterested teenager, except hers was permanent and something she was oddly proud of
It was no doubt a great mystery to the locals how this woman, so nasty in appearance found herself in the process of making a child; a child like Olive. You see Olive had very little, if nothing in common with her mother, don't be mistaken however into thinking her child was a great beauty, she was merely less ugly than the aforementioned parent. You see Olive was about half a head taller (mothers hunch not included) and much less pink in complexion, she bordered on sickly pale and ivory depending on the light and had sleepy dark eyes in contrast to her mothers pale blue griffin viewing orbs that saw all. She was much thinner with arms that swung at her side idly if they where not fully engaged in anything other than making beds and the arranging of a small collection of pebbles that Petunia kept on display for no particular reason. Olive was humble looking most of the time, with a round heart shaped face with a dainty little nose that was subject to a great deal of sneezes as the inn was a breeding ground for dust, her hair was always kept short, hacked off at her jaw or above in mismatching sections resulting in a rather lopsided and spiky look (her mother didn't approve of women flaunting their hair as apparently it falls out and makes a mess, either keep it up or cut it off was her philosophy) It gave her the appearance of a crooked neck to match her mothers hunch however olive was a little less ready to celebrate her bodily abnormities.
Petunia was just reaching her 57th birthday but was showing every sign of approaching her 77th, and Olive had but a few days earlier turned 19 and was being heavily scrutinised by the other mothers of the city for not being married and having at least seven children of her own by this old age. This made Petunia very irritable, her daughter could barely light a stove let alone cook on one, she was thoroughly useless but was destined to be more than just a feeding breeding machine. One woman in particular was causing her blood to boil. Mrs Mildred Guffber, older sister to Horace Warble.
Mildred was married at 14 to young Master Guffber and the two of them began breeding instantly, the woman was never not with child, one popped out another popped in, that was her life process. Mr Guffber was a cobbler and paid for the food and the house, his evenings where spent having his meal, and going to the ale house, however he would forgo the ale house if his wife was in need of another little Guffber, I need not go into detail describing these evenings, but it usually resulted in a later addition to the already huge Guffber brood.
This family was considered perfect, Mildred was only 22 but had achieved great things, she had children, a providing husband and a nice home, however she bore a great grudge against Olive for still having her youth, Olive was young and considerably less ugly than her mother, she had no strings attached to her and was free to do as she pleased, this, and the fact that her mother had turned down the advances of her younger brother Horace truly bode ill with her. Mildred believed that if a man saw fit to propose to you it was a woman's duty to accept, but what she didn't know was that Petunia had greater, more pressing reasons to keep her daughter single and by her side, pressing reasons that resulted in her being in a truly foul mood on the morning our tale begins
This morning started like no other, Olive was sweeping the sitting room floor doing her utmost not to disturb the lodgers, a farmer and his son who had travelled from cassardiss to sell their stock and a travelling merchant named Reynard who her mother had purchased a single rock from to add to the collection on the shelf above the fireplace. Reynard had obviously been a little miffed to find that she only desired a rock over his other more expensive wares and had sulked a great deal since. All three of these lodgers where seated by the fire and all mulling over their earnings from the day before.
Olive began wondering what their travels where like, she had no reason to travel herself so never did, Gran sorens walls where to her the edge of the world, if she stepped over she would fall into an abyss of uncertainty that was best avoided.
Petunia strode into the room from the adjacent kitchen and looked across at the lodgers with her usual expression of displeasure.
"I take it your father is not here yet then" she snapped turning to Olive who had been shaken out of her thoughts. Olive shook her head then turned to look at her mother. She was covered in flour so had obviously been baking bread, baking always put her in a bad mood.
"I didn't know he was coming"
"That's because I didn't tell you" Petunia retorted shooting a look of ice at her impertinent child. Olive snapped her mouth shut to signal to her mother she was done speaking and was truly sorry for whatever crime she just committed.
"He said on Thursday that he would be down again today, bright and early he said, bright and early it is, and here he is not" Petunia hissed and scuttled back into the kitchen. Her daughter noted she was more irritable than usual.
All six eyes sat by the fire turned to look at Olive who offered them a small smile back and went to follow her mother. She found her kneading, or more beating the hell out of a loaf that was already done and cooked.
"What the hell is going on woman" Olive rather angrily enquired as she pulled her mothers arms away from the now ruined bread. Petunia's nostrils flared and she breathed heavily and quickly
"I dislike tardiness is all, now go sweep the floors"
"I just did"
"THEN SWEEP THEM AGAIN" this was an order, shouted in such a way that even the Arisen would jump to action. Olive, knowing conversation was futile returned to the sitting room to find three ears pressed against the kitchen wall in an effort to hear the conversation that just unfolded.
"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked, as they all hurried back to their seat realising they had been well and truly caught. Lack of privacy was an issue that all Inn keepers and their families face, it's best to have no secrets and no shame before embarking upon such a business.
A few minutes of awkward silence ticked by before a loud knock was heard at the door followed by a call from the other side
"Ser Arrick of the Duchess's service, request to enter". This was now the standard phrase used by castle guards before they entered a property to let the occupant know they where not in trouble. Guards used to be able to walk in wherever they wanted resulting in many a frightened citizen.
Olive opened the door to see Ser Arrick who stepped in and removed his big white gloves on the mat. Arrick was an older guard with grey cropped hair keeping with the traditional look of the castles security. He was a big man also, a mixture of muscles and just generally large bones and he stood a great deal higher than Olive and Petunia. His big round face was always red and more often than not plastered with a rather jolly smile. This was Olive's father.
"Two visits in one week father, what could possibly be the occasion?" asked Olive, surprised to see him standing on the mat even though she was now expecting him.
"A man doesn't need an occasion to visit his little girl does he now?" Arrick mocked ruffling her hair (This man hadn't quite grasped the fact that she was now 19 and well beyond the age of hair ruffling.) Petunia walked into the room just in time to ruin the moment.
"Am I supposed to assume it was a great emergency that has delayed you?" She growled.
"An emergency indeed Petunia my dear"
"Did someone die in a horrific circumstance?"
"Mother!" interjected Olive, shooting a look at the guests who had all turned their ears to the conversation unfolding.
"I am sure nothing would please you more, alas it was just a little hoo har outside the castle, Fournival has been evicting again" replied Arrick simply
"They should have let him hang when they had the chance" Petunia hissed under her breath
"It hardly matters now, I am here as I said I would be but my time is limited."
"Very well, Olive, step outside for a minute" Sighed Petunia touching her daughters arm and gesturing to the door her father had just entered through. Olive complied quietly and left the room with several eyes looking at her as she did so, and stepped out into the street.
"Go for a walk around the town, there is no need to loiter on the street" Called Arrick from within the inn. Olive nodded and closed the door behind her, shutting everybody off.
It was a nice day, with the sun finding its way down to the ground despite the maze of houses and streets, people where buzzing around within their own little worlds doing their own thing and paying to heed to anything that didn't interest them. Olive was never a people watcher so decided to run up to the town square for a little while and see if there was any news of a fountain.