"The speech of celestial beings is much akin to the music we make, though,
to me, our own instruments somehow sound much holier than the voices of
angels. How this can be, I dare not fathom." -Brother Rammel, Cleric of
Paladus
Nearly everyone had arrived before the incident with Taudoc Malgrim. The last two people, Rahasia and Marlow, arrived at the same time. Marlow had his usual gaudy clothing on, with studded leather armor over it. His favorite pasttime, his banjolele, was strapped to his back in its case, and the halfling still had his wide-brimmed, feathered hat on.
Rahasia was much more imposing than Marlow. She wore a black velvet kimono that went to her ankles, soft slippers, and had pulled her flaming hair up in a bun. She rode sidesaddle on her mount, the same flame cooshee, whose name Gwen later learned was Arcalintae. The creature looked like a hunting dog, but was noticably larger than a horse. It had an intelligent face with high pointy ears, eyes that matched its rider's, and a tail that curled in an upward spiral over its rump. Its coat was mostly black, with touches of red on the legs, ears, tail, and snout. Rahasia's familiar, Daelirna, a cooshee identical to Arcalintae but for size, was sitting in Rahasia's small leather backpack. She had no gear in sight.
Gwen led the last two through the tower, then made sure everyone was safely outside before shrinking the tower down into the little adamantine box. Gwen quickly picked it up and secured it on Arwyn's rump. The band then wordlessly set off.
* * *
After half a mile's travel, putting the group just out of sight of Tarintor, Gwen turned and addressed them all. "Greetings and the Gods' blessings on you all. I am, as you probably know, Lady Gwendolyn Sarnah, a Dragon Army knight. I am, by default, in charge here.
"An extremely dangerous group, fitting the description of a Blackblood unit, has been sighted near the border between Silvanesti and Dallorn. We must bring down that group in any way we can, as well as interrogate them if at all possible.
"I have chosen each of you because you have skills that we will need to get to Silvanesti, complete our mission, and get back here alive. I do realize that there will be conflicts. It could take us moons to get to Silvanesti, and not even a god could keep his temper the entire trip. However, I will not permit unnecessary bickering. Should that occur, I will not hesitate to send the offending parties away. Divisions will weaken us more than the loss of one person's skills. Remember that and try to cooperate."
The entire group seemed to have listened attentively, more or less. Taudoc had his hood up with wisps of red and green smoke coming out, presumably from the wizardweed, and Aramne was staring right through her. The rest gave her at least a grudging respect, which Gwen took to be a good sign. "Now, let's be off."
* * *
The eight travelled along the roads, making good time. Gwen had to pace Arwyn to keep the group in sight. Rahasia was forced to do the same with Arcalintae, and she did not seem to happy about the pace.
Dolarth and Marlow walked together, at the rear because of their short legs. Not at all surprisingly, the boisterous dwarf and the outrageous halfling got along quite well. The meandered along, sharing lewd jokes and laughing loudly.
Taudoc was floating just in front of them. He was floating in the air, inches above the ground. He seemed to be meditating, for his hood was covering his eyes and he ignored everyone around him, though he never bumped into anyone or anything and always followed the others. He smoked wizardweed as he floated along.
Aramne had shapechanged into her harpy form again and was flying overhead, a scythe in her hands. Her dragon companions were hopefully behaving in well in the box. Fortunately, there was nothing around for them to eat, excepting Luin, who Gwen would hear from if there was trouble, and Taudoc's familiar, Lenore, whom Gwen suspected was not edible anyway. How could one eat a shadow?
Brother Maynard followed a few paces behind Gwen and her mount, just far enough away to keep his mouth free of the dust Arwyn kicked up as she trotted. His expression was always unreadable when Gwendolyn turned around to look at him, but she hoped he was not already displeased with the journey they had barely begun.
Brueyan was scouting ahead in his other form, that of a snowy owl, the proof of his family line. Every mile or so, he would turn back to Gwen in his human form and report what he had found. Thusfar, nothing but the tracks of game had been sighted, which gave the ranger plenty of time to walk with the lady knight. Brueyan's long strides could carry him just as fast and as far as Arwyn with equal ease, so the two could talk comfortably. Neither really seemed to know what to say, so they walked together in amicable silence more often than not.
As the sun was setting, Brueyan returned from his latest excursion. He walked in stride with Arwyn and told Gwen, "There is a small hill within a mile, easily defended."
Gwen nodded, the spun to face the group. "We will make camp shortly." She got a smattering of nods and agreements.
Brueyan was right, Gwen thought as she saw the hill. It was thickly wooded at the base, almost too wooded for the mounts to get through. The hill was steep, but fairly flat at the top. It would be an easy site to defend, even without the tower.
"We will rest here for the night. I am hoping someone will volunteer to cook, as well as standing first watch."
Brueyan volunteered to cook, with the help of Rahasia. Dolarth decided to take first watch. Gwen herself called last watch, and told Dolarth to pick who he wanted to relieve him when the time came.
Gwen dismounted from Arwyn, and Rahasia did the same. Aramne landed, keeping her harpy form, and Taudoc drifted gently down until he stood on the ground. Gwen removed the adamantine box from its strappings that kept it on Arwyn's rump and set it on top of the hill. She turned the key in the lock and said, "Awaken, tower." She quickly stepped back as the adamantine structure sprung up. Gwen then lead Arwyn up the steps, and her companions followed.
* * *
Dinner had been uneventful, to say the least. Those who had already known each other talked quietly, while those who knew no one well avoided the rest. Taudoc took his meal in his room, while Aramne brought hers into the living space of her draconic companions. The rest ate in the common room upstairs. Each left to his or her sleeping place when their plate was empty. A spell of Rahasia's cleaned the dishes, and everyone made their way to bed, except for the dwarf and the halfling. Dolarth and Marlow sat by the fire, laughing merrily. The two had known each other for several years now, and they were very similiar in humor, if not morals. Gwendolyn left for bed not long after Brueyan did. The two had talked little during dinner, mostly compliments on his cooking.
Gwen happily settled into her living space in the womens' quarters. The day had not gone badly. She set her armor out neatly, so she could take as much or as little time as she needed to put it on in the morning. She kept her long, flowing, comfortable under-armor clothes on, unsure of how modest her roommates were. Gwen had seen Rahasia meditating in the study on the third floor, and Aramne had not left her dragons, so she was alone for the moment.
Gwen sat down on her bed and took out her mandolin case, removed the instrument and began to polish it. The instrument was just as sacred to her as her holy pendant of Lolania, perhaps more so. With the mandolin, Gwen could make an audible and fitting tribute to her goddess, while her holy symbol could only declare her chosen faith.
The mandolin was beautiful. It was made from a beamwood tree, the golden-yellow hued tree that grew taller than any other, as though actually reaching for the suns. It had been coated with a crackling blue paint. Red- violet roses seemed to spring from the the hole in the body, while bright purple stars speckled the entire neck and body.
Though almost everyone on Aristhar could play at least one instrument, for music was an important part of every intelligent culture, only the most talented could ever become true bards. Lady Gwendolyn's training had been in the mandolin, and she played it better than all but the best professional musicians. Still, there was always much room for improvement, and Gwen would be the first to admit to it.
Gwen put the now shining mandolin back in its open case, undid the short thick braid in her hair, and began to brush out the thickly curling silver chin-length strands. From nowhere, a lively melody drifted into the womens' barracks. It was the sound of a stringed instrument, a banjolele, Gwen realized with a smile. It had been too long since she had heard Marlow play. Without thinking, Gwen grabbed her mandolin again and headed up the stairs for the common room.
By the time she had reached the third floor and the source of the music, Dolarth, Brueyan, and Rahasia were all standing and watching Marlow. When Gwen walked in and sat down on the couch, she took her finger pick and turned Marlow's energetic song into an even livelier duet.
With a slight smile, Rahasia made a gesture as she whispered something in the language of dragons and magic. A lap harp appeared in her hands, and the elfin sorceress joined in. Brueyan left grinning, and then Dolarth. Both appeared within moments. Brueyan held a panpipe and he quickly added to the melody, while Dolarth carried a bagpipe. The dwarf's strange instrument, seeming to be just several pipes attached to a sack, added a haunting undertone to the lively melody.
A militaristic drum beat, perfectly matching the song, could be heard long before Brother Maynard made it to the common room, wearing a tabor drum on a sash so that he could hit both ends. For the first time, Gwen really saw the cleric, not as a rigid, bitter man, but as a fellow musician. The thought left her mind as quickly as it came as all six were carried up in the music.
A deeper, melancholy tone suddenly found itself in the song. Gwen nearly dropped her mandolin when she saw Aramne, still in her harpy shape, playing a crumhorn. The instrument was huge, six feet long, and played like a recorder. Gwen remembered hearing somewhere that only treants ever played the real crumhorns, which were much larger than their half-sized relatives played by humans. Gwen had only heard the human crumhorn, a much more nasal and hollow sounding instrument than the triple-reeded majestic instrument Aramne was playing.
All seven were gradually aware of their impromptu performance, and that the piece had begun to take a life of its own. The entire band switched keys and rhythms as one, with no conscious communication. The tune pulsed and flowed, a fast-paced and lively dancing melody with the majestic, sweeping undertones of a crumhorn and bagpipe duet supported by a tabor rhythm.
Just as informally and suddenly as the song began, it died away. Each performer gradually dropped out, until only Gwendolyn remained. Her mandolin's strumming died by a will of its own. All seven looked at each other, pleased by the comraderie but unsure of what exactly had happened. Gwen suddenly realized that she was sharing the worn couch with Brueyan and nearly leapt to her feet. She held off the temptation, forcing herself to calmly sit still.
Still going on the empathy of musicians, they all looked to the doorway at the same time. Without the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Taudoc stood before them, an ebony box under his arm. As always, his hood was up and he was smoking. A bittersweet scent, like dying roses, hung about the air around him as he walked in and sat down. Unconsciously, everyone scooted away. Taudoc set the box on the coffee table and opened it, revealing a set of about sixty little ebony blocks of various sizes, shaped like the vertebrae in an animal's tail. Gwen remembered hearing somewhere about an instrument like that, called simply 'the bones'.
"Since we have all decided to perform tonight," Taudoc said in a scathingly polite whisper, "I thought I might contribute a piece." He picked up two pieces in each hand, and struck them all together. It created a chord, and they all gasped aloud, unconsciously leaning forward. Suddenly, the wizard's hands flew into motion, tossing and dropping and trading pieces about almost too quickly for the eye to see. As the ebony pieces flew, a haunting refrain began to take shape. The song whispered to them all, half-formed images about suffering and loss. No one could quite understand the pictures the melody showed them, but they all knew that it was shaking them to their very souls. The music reached a subtle crescendo, and there was silence. No one applauded, no one smiled. Taudoc did not seem to expect either response. He simply shut the ebony box and left the room without a word.
When the mage was gone, it was as though they came back to life. They laughed, albeit nervously, and each assumed that the feelings Taudoc's music had given them were the products of an overactive imagination. Though no one really seemed comfortable with talking, their music did not suffer for it. They continued to play throughout the night.
As the liquor Dolarth had insisted on bringing was passed around, the songs grew livelier and livelier. Part of Gwen's duty as a paladin of Lolania, goddess of the arts, was to learn as much as she could about music. Thus, the half-avariel knew quite a few drinking songs that would make the modest blush. It seemed she got along with Dolarth and Marlow quite well in this regard, as all three had a repertoire of lewd music, much of which was known to the other two. The three often sang in trio, with a mandolin and banjolele in accompaniment. Fortunately for Gwen, Brother Maynard decided to stand his watch, the watch replacing Dolarth, on the roof instead of in the watchpost. Thus, the Holy Brother heard only the first few of the bawdy tunes before retiring out of earshot.
Nearly everyone had arrived before the incident with Taudoc Malgrim. The last two people, Rahasia and Marlow, arrived at the same time. Marlow had his usual gaudy clothing on, with studded leather armor over it. His favorite pasttime, his banjolele, was strapped to his back in its case, and the halfling still had his wide-brimmed, feathered hat on.
Rahasia was much more imposing than Marlow. She wore a black velvet kimono that went to her ankles, soft slippers, and had pulled her flaming hair up in a bun. She rode sidesaddle on her mount, the same flame cooshee, whose name Gwen later learned was Arcalintae. The creature looked like a hunting dog, but was noticably larger than a horse. It had an intelligent face with high pointy ears, eyes that matched its rider's, and a tail that curled in an upward spiral over its rump. Its coat was mostly black, with touches of red on the legs, ears, tail, and snout. Rahasia's familiar, Daelirna, a cooshee identical to Arcalintae but for size, was sitting in Rahasia's small leather backpack. She had no gear in sight.
Gwen led the last two through the tower, then made sure everyone was safely outside before shrinking the tower down into the little adamantine box. Gwen quickly picked it up and secured it on Arwyn's rump. The band then wordlessly set off.
* * *
After half a mile's travel, putting the group just out of sight of Tarintor, Gwen turned and addressed them all. "Greetings and the Gods' blessings on you all. I am, as you probably know, Lady Gwendolyn Sarnah, a Dragon Army knight. I am, by default, in charge here.
"An extremely dangerous group, fitting the description of a Blackblood unit, has been sighted near the border between Silvanesti and Dallorn. We must bring down that group in any way we can, as well as interrogate them if at all possible.
"I have chosen each of you because you have skills that we will need to get to Silvanesti, complete our mission, and get back here alive. I do realize that there will be conflicts. It could take us moons to get to Silvanesti, and not even a god could keep his temper the entire trip. However, I will not permit unnecessary bickering. Should that occur, I will not hesitate to send the offending parties away. Divisions will weaken us more than the loss of one person's skills. Remember that and try to cooperate."
The entire group seemed to have listened attentively, more or less. Taudoc had his hood up with wisps of red and green smoke coming out, presumably from the wizardweed, and Aramne was staring right through her. The rest gave her at least a grudging respect, which Gwen took to be a good sign. "Now, let's be off."
* * *
The eight travelled along the roads, making good time. Gwen had to pace Arwyn to keep the group in sight. Rahasia was forced to do the same with Arcalintae, and she did not seem to happy about the pace.
Dolarth and Marlow walked together, at the rear because of their short legs. Not at all surprisingly, the boisterous dwarf and the outrageous halfling got along quite well. The meandered along, sharing lewd jokes and laughing loudly.
Taudoc was floating just in front of them. He was floating in the air, inches above the ground. He seemed to be meditating, for his hood was covering his eyes and he ignored everyone around him, though he never bumped into anyone or anything and always followed the others. He smoked wizardweed as he floated along.
Aramne had shapechanged into her harpy form again and was flying overhead, a scythe in her hands. Her dragon companions were hopefully behaving in well in the box. Fortunately, there was nothing around for them to eat, excepting Luin, who Gwen would hear from if there was trouble, and Taudoc's familiar, Lenore, whom Gwen suspected was not edible anyway. How could one eat a shadow?
Brother Maynard followed a few paces behind Gwen and her mount, just far enough away to keep his mouth free of the dust Arwyn kicked up as she trotted. His expression was always unreadable when Gwendolyn turned around to look at him, but she hoped he was not already displeased with the journey they had barely begun.
Brueyan was scouting ahead in his other form, that of a snowy owl, the proof of his family line. Every mile or so, he would turn back to Gwen in his human form and report what he had found. Thusfar, nothing but the tracks of game had been sighted, which gave the ranger plenty of time to walk with the lady knight. Brueyan's long strides could carry him just as fast and as far as Arwyn with equal ease, so the two could talk comfortably. Neither really seemed to know what to say, so they walked together in amicable silence more often than not.
As the sun was setting, Brueyan returned from his latest excursion. He walked in stride with Arwyn and told Gwen, "There is a small hill within a mile, easily defended."
Gwen nodded, the spun to face the group. "We will make camp shortly." She got a smattering of nods and agreements.
Brueyan was right, Gwen thought as she saw the hill. It was thickly wooded at the base, almost too wooded for the mounts to get through. The hill was steep, but fairly flat at the top. It would be an easy site to defend, even without the tower.
"We will rest here for the night. I am hoping someone will volunteer to cook, as well as standing first watch."
Brueyan volunteered to cook, with the help of Rahasia. Dolarth decided to take first watch. Gwen herself called last watch, and told Dolarth to pick who he wanted to relieve him when the time came.
Gwen dismounted from Arwyn, and Rahasia did the same. Aramne landed, keeping her harpy form, and Taudoc drifted gently down until he stood on the ground. Gwen removed the adamantine box from its strappings that kept it on Arwyn's rump and set it on top of the hill. She turned the key in the lock and said, "Awaken, tower." She quickly stepped back as the adamantine structure sprung up. Gwen then lead Arwyn up the steps, and her companions followed.
* * *
Dinner had been uneventful, to say the least. Those who had already known each other talked quietly, while those who knew no one well avoided the rest. Taudoc took his meal in his room, while Aramne brought hers into the living space of her draconic companions. The rest ate in the common room upstairs. Each left to his or her sleeping place when their plate was empty. A spell of Rahasia's cleaned the dishes, and everyone made their way to bed, except for the dwarf and the halfling. Dolarth and Marlow sat by the fire, laughing merrily. The two had known each other for several years now, and they were very similiar in humor, if not morals. Gwendolyn left for bed not long after Brueyan did. The two had talked little during dinner, mostly compliments on his cooking.
Gwen happily settled into her living space in the womens' quarters. The day had not gone badly. She set her armor out neatly, so she could take as much or as little time as she needed to put it on in the morning. She kept her long, flowing, comfortable under-armor clothes on, unsure of how modest her roommates were. Gwen had seen Rahasia meditating in the study on the third floor, and Aramne had not left her dragons, so she was alone for the moment.
Gwen sat down on her bed and took out her mandolin case, removed the instrument and began to polish it. The instrument was just as sacred to her as her holy pendant of Lolania, perhaps more so. With the mandolin, Gwen could make an audible and fitting tribute to her goddess, while her holy symbol could only declare her chosen faith.
The mandolin was beautiful. It was made from a beamwood tree, the golden-yellow hued tree that grew taller than any other, as though actually reaching for the suns. It had been coated with a crackling blue paint. Red- violet roses seemed to spring from the the hole in the body, while bright purple stars speckled the entire neck and body.
Though almost everyone on Aristhar could play at least one instrument, for music was an important part of every intelligent culture, only the most talented could ever become true bards. Lady Gwendolyn's training had been in the mandolin, and she played it better than all but the best professional musicians. Still, there was always much room for improvement, and Gwen would be the first to admit to it.
Gwen put the now shining mandolin back in its open case, undid the short thick braid in her hair, and began to brush out the thickly curling silver chin-length strands. From nowhere, a lively melody drifted into the womens' barracks. It was the sound of a stringed instrument, a banjolele, Gwen realized with a smile. It had been too long since she had heard Marlow play. Without thinking, Gwen grabbed her mandolin again and headed up the stairs for the common room.
By the time she had reached the third floor and the source of the music, Dolarth, Brueyan, and Rahasia were all standing and watching Marlow. When Gwen walked in and sat down on the couch, she took her finger pick and turned Marlow's energetic song into an even livelier duet.
With a slight smile, Rahasia made a gesture as she whispered something in the language of dragons and magic. A lap harp appeared in her hands, and the elfin sorceress joined in. Brueyan left grinning, and then Dolarth. Both appeared within moments. Brueyan held a panpipe and he quickly added to the melody, while Dolarth carried a bagpipe. The dwarf's strange instrument, seeming to be just several pipes attached to a sack, added a haunting undertone to the lively melody.
A militaristic drum beat, perfectly matching the song, could be heard long before Brother Maynard made it to the common room, wearing a tabor drum on a sash so that he could hit both ends. For the first time, Gwen really saw the cleric, not as a rigid, bitter man, but as a fellow musician. The thought left her mind as quickly as it came as all six were carried up in the music.
A deeper, melancholy tone suddenly found itself in the song. Gwen nearly dropped her mandolin when she saw Aramne, still in her harpy shape, playing a crumhorn. The instrument was huge, six feet long, and played like a recorder. Gwen remembered hearing somewhere that only treants ever played the real crumhorns, which were much larger than their half-sized relatives played by humans. Gwen had only heard the human crumhorn, a much more nasal and hollow sounding instrument than the triple-reeded majestic instrument Aramne was playing.
All seven were gradually aware of their impromptu performance, and that the piece had begun to take a life of its own. The entire band switched keys and rhythms as one, with no conscious communication. The tune pulsed and flowed, a fast-paced and lively dancing melody with the majestic, sweeping undertones of a crumhorn and bagpipe duet supported by a tabor rhythm.
Just as informally and suddenly as the song began, it died away. Each performer gradually dropped out, until only Gwendolyn remained. Her mandolin's strumming died by a will of its own. All seven looked at each other, pleased by the comraderie but unsure of what exactly had happened. Gwen suddenly realized that she was sharing the worn couch with Brueyan and nearly leapt to her feet. She held off the temptation, forcing herself to calmly sit still.
Still going on the empathy of musicians, they all looked to the doorway at the same time. Without the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Taudoc stood before them, an ebony box under his arm. As always, his hood was up and he was smoking. A bittersweet scent, like dying roses, hung about the air around him as he walked in and sat down. Unconsciously, everyone scooted away. Taudoc set the box on the coffee table and opened it, revealing a set of about sixty little ebony blocks of various sizes, shaped like the vertebrae in an animal's tail. Gwen remembered hearing somewhere about an instrument like that, called simply 'the bones'.
"Since we have all decided to perform tonight," Taudoc said in a scathingly polite whisper, "I thought I might contribute a piece." He picked up two pieces in each hand, and struck them all together. It created a chord, and they all gasped aloud, unconsciously leaning forward. Suddenly, the wizard's hands flew into motion, tossing and dropping and trading pieces about almost too quickly for the eye to see. As the ebony pieces flew, a haunting refrain began to take shape. The song whispered to them all, half-formed images about suffering and loss. No one could quite understand the pictures the melody showed them, but they all knew that it was shaking them to their very souls. The music reached a subtle crescendo, and there was silence. No one applauded, no one smiled. Taudoc did not seem to expect either response. He simply shut the ebony box and left the room without a word.
When the mage was gone, it was as though they came back to life. They laughed, albeit nervously, and each assumed that the feelings Taudoc's music had given them were the products of an overactive imagination. Though no one really seemed comfortable with talking, their music did not suffer for it. They continued to play throughout the night.
As the liquor Dolarth had insisted on bringing was passed around, the songs grew livelier and livelier. Part of Gwen's duty as a paladin of Lolania, goddess of the arts, was to learn as much as she could about music. Thus, the half-avariel knew quite a few drinking songs that would make the modest blush. It seemed she got along with Dolarth and Marlow quite well in this regard, as all three had a repertoire of lewd music, much of which was known to the other two. The three often sang in trio, with a mandolin and banjolele in accompaniment. Fortunately for Gwen, Brother Maynard decided to stand his watch, the watch replacing Dolarth, on the roof instead of in the watchpost. Thus, the Holy Brother heard only the first few of the bawdy tunes before retiring out of earshot.