DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: Dawn of Revolution
The Searchers, part 1
Five months after the coalition war ended...
"... And thus, under the eternal grace and wisdom of Acardom, god of the divine right of rulership, I crown you Queen Lorelai Rhoda I of the Kingdom of Verhamaine. May your rule be long and just."
There was no applause when a certain half-elf revolutionary knelt before the archpriest of the Temple of Acardom, allowing the heavy, jewel- and pearl-encrusted crown to be carefully fitted onto her head, over her wavy dark hair. Hundreds of people from all over Sassanoit, indeed all over Verhamaine, watched the most controversial and tradition-shattering monarch assume her place on the throne. Lorelai's recent marriage to prince Pevin Rhoda had secured her position in that dynasty. Now was the time for Lorelai to start asserting that power.
Murbella merely watched from her spot on the wide dais, hands folded in front of her, feeling... well, mingled relief and anticipation, perhaps. An era for the entire continent was over, and a new one was dawning, with General Danoraj Silbrass and now, Queen Lorelai to lead the way. Now was the time for Lorelai to make good on her promises and transform this coastal kingdom, and Murbella would be there to support her. It was a great duty and burden. Murbella wasn't sure which it was more.
At least Murbella could reassure herself by getting a quick look at her father and four sisters standing in the crowd near a thick marble pillar. None of them noticed her looking at them. Oh well.
Now, what else were the sisters to do...?
*o*o*o*o*
Two weeks later...
"No, it's supposed to go over there. There!"
A certain lady in a bright green dress pointed emphatically at a neat pile of timber beams as two workmen carried their own beam in what was evidently the wrong direction.
"The foreman told us it goes over here," one of the workmen grunted, a half-orc who gripped the wood beam tight with his meaty fingers. "You ain't even in charge, lady."
"I'm the foreman's assistant," the lady insisted as Murbella approached. The lady had her fists on her hips. "We wouldn't even be halfway done if it weren't for me. I requisitioned those roof tiles all on my own! And who coordinated the tea and snack break?"
"That was me," an aarakocra construction worker said, raising his hand casually.
The human lady winced. "Yes, but I helped."
"You helped clean up the plate of sweet cakes you dropped."
The lady beamed with pride. "I sure did!"
The workers sighed and kept hauling their timber to the oh-so-correct spot.
"Murbella! Hello, sis," Miranda said brightly as her amused sister joined her. Miranda swept an arm through the air to encompass the construction site. "It feels so good to really build something. Lorelai kept talking about building a new world order for Verhamaine, but that's all clerical paperwork. That's building things in theory." Miranda tapped her head. "I'm all about the hands-on work. Just look!"
"Oh, I'm looking," Murbella said warmly. Miranda's innocent cheer was always so infectious. "So, what are we building here?" She watched a burly earth genasi fellow hammering thick nails into a wooden wall as she spoke.
"A new theater," Miranda explained. "Can you believe the old theater got burned down during the civil war? I dunno which side burned it down, but I'm still mad at them! The people need some entertainment to distract themselves from these turbulent times."
"You sound wiser every day." Murbella gently held Miranda's shoulders. "And I agree. Working for the queen has truly given my life meaning. But even so, I wouldn't say no to a live circus or a comedy play."
"That reminds me! The foreman said I could choose the first production when this is done," Miranda added giddily. "Can you guess which one, Murbella?"
"No."
"Oh, come on."
"Hmmmm... The Fall of Tiamat."
"What! That's a serious opera, not a play." Miranda stuck out her tongue.
Murbella giggled. "I"m more used to... lofty entertainment. I took after Father that way."
"Ugh, you sure did."
"So, what's the play?"
"Cyric the Duck Sun. And I got to choose the lead actor, too! He's a riot!" Miranda beamed.
Murbella couldn't help a laugh. Ah, it felt so good to laugh over nonsense nowadays. "A production for the ages, Miranda. I'll be sure to watch it with you."
"I'm holding you to that."
Silence fell between the sisters. Then, Miranda spoke up. "I wasn't sure what else to do, Murbella. So I just chose whatever sounded fun. Can you blame me?"
Murbella let go of Miranda's shoulders. "Of course not."
"Is it weird I'm spending my time on this when Queen Lorelai and Father need us doing... well, what we've always been doing?"
"Tedious paperwork well into the night by candlelight?"
"My thoughts exactly." Miranda glanced down, biting her lower lip. "Can I admit something kind of shameful, Murbella?"
"You can tell me anything. Come on, let's walk." Murbella took her sister's hand, and the two of them wandered Sassanoit's postwar streets, surrounded by quaint shops and cafes, with Castle Rhoda looming far in the distance.
"I..." Miranda winced. "I admit it, Murbella: I feel lost. There, I said it. I know what the others would say: that I have no right to say that when I have people who need me. Queen Lorelai and her grand projects, Father and his trade business... I feel like I'm abandoning them when I say I don't want that. Am I awful for saying so?"
"Well..." Murbella started. She had to say something quick, but what? She knew her sister - Miranda would sink into indecision and guilt if this kept up for much longer. Miranda was the most sensitive and empathetic of the five sisters. If she wasn't helping someone or doing what was expected of her...
"You'll always be needed. Perhaps you just have to find someone new who needs you," Murbella said slowly, making it up as she went. Curses, it was normally so easy to reassure her sisters, but this felt different. Why? She felt like saying just one wrong thing would bring disaster. Perhaps her family was still balanced on a knife's edge, no matter the peace in Sassanoit.
Miranda gestured. "So many people need us, Murbella. More than ever, with the coalition war over and so many lives lost. But I wasn't doing much good as a clerk for Lorelai's revolution. It never felt right. It was you and Minerva who did all the real work, changing the world with papers and ideas. That's just not me."
Murbella made a wry smile. "It's true you often needed Minerva to double-check your work."
"I sure did." Miranda giggled nervously. She held a hand over her mouth, meeting her sister's eyes with a timid expression. "Oh, I don't even know what I'm saying. Am I confusing you? I think I'm confusing myself."
"Miranda, everyone is confused right now," Murbella reassured her. She felt her gut squirm as she said it. All this rang so true to her, too. "It's the end of an era, and the dawn of another. Nothing is the same! Not for our family, and not for the Kingdom of Verhmaine, either. We're all figuring it out as we go. I thought you'd be excited, Miranda. You're always so hands-on, taking on new challenges whenever you fancy it."
"But this is different," Miranda said helplessly. "I've always had Father or Minerva to guide me. That was my norm. Now? Nothing's normal. I'm..." She clapped her hands to her cheeks in distress. "I can't decide what to do! Or what I stand for! I'm frightened, Murbella. Scared to step into the world alone for the first time."
"But you're not alone. How could you say that?" Murbella guided her sister to an empty street corner, eyes fixed on Miranda's own. "Our family is more together than ever."
"But I want to go away! Far away!" Miranda cried, her hands balled into fists. "I've lived too long in Father's shadow, or Minerva's shadow. Or Lorelai's! Who am I, Murbella? What am I meant to do in this world? I can't be everyone's tool forever."
"Tool..." Murbella repeated the word, testing it in her mouth as though hearing it for the first time. And once again, Miranda's words resonated with her. Unlike her energetic sister, Murbella was perfectly comfortable with studying, clerical work, running an organization... but always for someone else's dream. Never her own. Who was she on her own? Who was Murbella, the human girl who had the entire world before her and no courage to explore it?
"Oh!" Miranda yelped in surprise when Murbella wrapped her in a tight hug.
"Miranda." Murbella savored her sister's warmth. "I understand. I'm afraid too! Father kept us cooped up, grooming us to his heirs to the family trade empire. We lived his life. Now we don't know how to live ours."
"You have Lorelai, though," Miranda pointed out. "You're one of her best court scribes! Wasn't that your dream job? Making a difference with paperwork?"
"I thought it was," Murbella confessed. "I truly believe I'm doing good for others as one of Lorelai's court scribes. But deep down, I'm not so sure. I'm... I'm torn, Miranda. I can keep doing my duty because it's a secure life, or break free of this place and become anyone." She held Miranda tighter. "I don't have your spunk, Miranda, but I too wonder if I was meant to fly out of this cage and see what else is out there. This is my only chance. What if I regret not taking it?"
Miranda hugged her back. "I don't know, Murbella. I'm sorry I can't help."
"That's okay. I haven't finished helping you yet. I was supposed to go first." Murbella laughed lightly.
"So, what are we supposed to do?"
"We won't decide anything today," Murbella told her sister as they parted. "But let's give it some serious thought, Miranda. Father and Minerva might know what to do."
"But they're the ones who told us what our lives should be like," Miranda protested. "I thought we were getting away from that."
"We aren't going to abandon our family," Murbella told her, though she secretly worried Miranda was right. "We would be wise to at least consider what they have to say. Now, Father is ready to guide us and support us, not own us like he did before. We can trust him."
Miranda nodded. "Yeah. You're right." She didn't sound entirely certain, though. Murbella understood that feeling, too.
*o*o*o*o*
Two days later...
"Now, suppose an irate customer accused you of short-changing them for a room they paid well in advance for," the elderly half-elf man said, his hands clasped together on the wooden table. He leaned forward a bit, his wooden chair creaking. "What would you say to them, Mozzie?"
"I... well..." Mozzie held her hands over her mouth, her heart hammering with terror at the thought of such an angry customer getting in her face. Here she was in her seventh job interview this week, and she was still getting terrifying questions like these! Why did every employer in Sassanoit expect Mozzie to handle angry or disruptive people? Everywhere Mozzie went, customers were always so dignified and polite! But then again, perhaps that was because Father always took his daughters to the most upscale places in the city, far from... well... the common folk, who might be in a confused rage with cheap ale coursing through their system -
No! Mozzie shook her head. How dare she presume to be so much better than others? She was ready to serve the common people, to be immersed in their world. The world she helped protect with Lorelai's revolution!
"No? You would refuse to help?" the interviewer asked.
"I-I mean...!" Mozzie squeaked with alarm and clapped her hands to her face, feeling herself going red with shame. "I was just thinking about... well..."
"Take your time, my dear."
It was time to admit Mozzie didn't have the faintest clue what she'd say to that irate customer. "I'd apologize deeply and offer them a full refund!" Mozzie blurted out. By the gods, if her dearly departed mother could see her now...
"I... see." The half-elf man stood and offered his hand. "I suppose that will conclude your interview. Thank you for showing an interest in my inn."
Mozzie got to her feet, almost lightheaded from how overwhelming this felt. "I suppose I failed to impress?"
The half-elf man hesitated, stroking his graying mustache. "Well..."
"I understand! I'll just leave!" Mozzie cried, then turned and sprinted out of the cozy inn and back into the busy cobblestone streets. At least the afternoon sun and the cool breeze felt good on her face.
"Uuuughhh..." Ten minutes later, Mozzie had her face buried in her arms at a local tavern's bar, ignoring the dragonborn and tiefling musicians playing a lively duet in the corner as the other patrons clapped along.
"Something bothering you, hon?" the bartender, a middle-aged air genasi lady, asked as she cleared away a few empty mugs.
Mozzie slowly raised her head. She was sure she looked like a wreck. "I disgraced myself at a job interview as an inn's receptionist. I simply want work where I can help people, and make them happy. But it's not meant to be." She groaned, burying her head again in her gown's blue sleeves.
The bartender made a sympathetic noise. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Lots of places are hiring, I hear. Just keep trying."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"How about a fruit glaze bowl on the house?"
Mozzie smiled to herself as she imagined Miranda's loud whoop of excitement if she were offered such a thing. No doubt Minerva would gently reprimand her to pipe down. "Yes, I would love that. Thank you."
A few minutes later, Mozzie was slowly munching on sweetly glazed fruits in a wooden bowl, her mind far away from bawdy duet lyrics and ale mugs. She cleared her throat. "Um..."
"Yes, hon?" the bartender asked as she served a trio of men their drinks.
Mozzie couldn't help asking. She needed to hear some words of encouragement from someone so she could return home tonight with her head held high. "Have..." She swallowed. "Have you ever been so afraid to make a mistake you never did anything at all? How did you find the courage to take this job?"
The bartender made an amused "huh" as she whipped out a rag to wipe the bar's surface. "My baby sister's like that sometimes. Go out into the world! my father kept telling her. Ain't no good to hole up in your room! Time's gonna pass you by anyway, might as well do some living along the way!"
"Such a brave man."
"Tell me 'bout it. His first three taverns failed 'till he got this one up and running," the bartender said, gesturing at the ceiling. "I took over the day he died of a pox six years back. Bless him. Never gave up 'till he seized his dream." The bartender grabbed the empty air as though taking hold of something. Such courage!
Mozzie finished her fruit glaze bowl and set down her three-tined fork. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried."
"Ah, don't worry your pretty head," the bartender said casually, gesturing with her white rag. "Folks need someone to put a little kick into their soul sometimes. That's how my father reckoned it, and he was right."
"I'm so used to my father and sisters protecting me," Mozzie confessed. "They knew what was best for me. Now, I'm free to find my own future. And I'm afraid I can't do it, or that I shouldn't. Am I being foolish?"
"Ain't no life without a little foolish thinking. That's just the way of it," the bartender said simply. She poured another thirsty customer a mug of cool ale, then continued, "Look, hon. I'm not your mother. I can't tell you what to do with your days. But if you're afraid you relied too much on your family to protect you, best ask them about it. Ask what they were protecting you from, and why they thought you couldn't handle it yourself."
Mozzie blinked. That... was a rather interesting point. Her father and Minerva had always professed they were protecting her from harm, from the scary outside world that would tear her apart. Of course Mozzie trusted them with her safety!
Yet still... was Mozzie overdue to take a closer look and re-assess how she lived her sheltered life? What if she was ready to fly free from her birdcage? She wasn't a child anymore. She was a proper woman now, like her mother had once been. Mozzie couldn't just be Minerva's little sister forever. What was waiting for her on the other side of fear?
She wouldn't find it at the bottom of a fruit glaze bowl or mug of male.
"Ah. Taking your leave?" the bartender asked when Mozzie abruptly stood, smoothed out her blue gown, and turned on her booted heel to depart. "I gotcha. Best of luck out there, hon."
"I'm Mozzie. And I owe you this." Mozzie gave her hair a confident toss, then opened her coinpurse and slid five gold coins across the bar's scratched surface. One for each family member who had protected her until now.
"Well, I'll be! What a tip!" the bartender blurted out as she scooped up the generous coinage. "First drink's on me next time you visit."
"Thank you. Now, I must go." Mozzie stalked across the tavern floor on her high-heeled boots, past the clapping and half-drink patrons, prepared to throw open the doors to the waiting world.
"See you around, brave Mozzie."