Sir Heldris talks to the Prophet of the Mother
The Salt Knight plays a Game of Chance
Perilake confirms a Shepherd's Story
A Life of many Thorns
Afternoon of the 2nd Riverday of Petals
Referee
The inn keeper
approaches, a middle aged man with greying hair and a leather apron
that spans over his barrel chest, precariously balancing a carafe of
water and wine and plates with the meat pies. Without much
enthusiasm he says.. “Welcome Sir Knights! If you need anything, a
room to stay. “ he casually picks the leaf off Milos' hair” a
bath or a game of chance, Pedrag will be at your service. Or are
noble Knights such as you stay at Lady Wendela's house?”
Sir Milos, the Fox
Knight
Milos sheepishly
runs his hands through his hair in search of more wayward leaves. A
few more fall upon the table in front of him. "I am like a
crimson maple in autumn" he says with a small laugh. Then he
grabs a meat pie and bites into it as he rocks back in his chair."So
where shall we stay then? Inn or manor?"
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
Anastaz stretches
into a more relaxed position in his chair. "I will be
staying here. The Lady may have her hands full with Sir Perilake's
clan."
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos finishes his
pie and rises "as will I then, but first I will seek out
this bath that so many are kindly recommending." His hand
grazes Anastaz's shoulder lightly as he passes behind him toward the
back of the inn.
Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight
After speaking with
Inga, Perilake joins his brothers in the Inn and explains his plan.
When his son goes to sleep, Perilake will be beneath the bed, sword
in hand. Inga in the other room. "My only regret my friends
is that I will not be able to join you as you patrol the village in
the evening, in case this miscreant targets another child. But in the
meantime, perhaps we should speak to some of the villagers. I fear
age has dulled Lady Wendela's sharpness, though not her tongue."
Referee
Pedrag brings a cup and
food for Ser Perilake, while Milos disappears into a back room. From
the town square you hear hammering and some laughter. The inn keeper
returns to his game of dice at the bar with an old-timer who enjoys
an early mug of ale. After some time an older woman quietly crosses
the taproom from the kitchen with a steaming kettle. She is slightly
limping and has turned her face away from you. Before you can get a
good look at her she has already entered the washingroom.
Sir Milos' face
emerging from the surface of soapy water. He is sitting up in a large
wooden tub in the washroom of the Inn. He shakes his head and sprays
water across the earthen floor. Then slumps back with a sigh and
stares at the ceiling. The door creaks open and an old woman ambles
in holding a large kettle with rags to protect her hands. “Since
you’ve been in so long, I thought you might be wanting a little
more hot water, Sir Knight.” He rests his chin on the edge of
the tub and beams a contented smile at her. “You are a perfect
godsend and I am forever in your debt.” As the old woman pours
the water into the tub near his feet, the Fox Knight regards her
quietly and notices strange bruises on her arms and a red gash on her
temple. His brow furrows and his smile drifts toward sadness and
concern. Softly he asks “Mother, how have you come to bear
these many wounds?”
 |
| The Oak & Well |
Referee
The woman pulls the
sleeves over her arms and looks away - hiding the right side of her
face where her eye is grotesquely larger and hanging lower than her
good eye. “It is nothing my lord.” She stands still in her
awkward position her head tilted to the side waiting for you to
dismiss her. Her voice is very soft and barely audible.
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
Anastaz cocks his head slightly as he watches the other knight
leave. He strokes his chin for a moment. Looking back to his
brothers, he says, "I'm sure Avert will be safe in his
father's care, and the others will be safe in ours."
Finishing his meal, he rises and walks to the innkeep with his
dice. He asks, "May I... join your game?"
Referee
Pedrag looks up and nods.”We are playing Hermit. Winner
keeps the dice, loser chops wood. You're in?” The dice set is made
from antlers with the pips carved and filled with brightly coloured
resin. The old villager sets down his pipe with unsteady hands. He is
ancient and when he turns to you his milky blue eyes stare at
nothing.”Of course I won't chop anything ...” he wheezes,
”... my good for nothing grandson will … or his son if the other
one is already dead... “ He cackles, exposing is toothless gums.
“Are you with the minstrels or with the fine folk?”
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
Anastaz nods at Pedrag, and says to the old man, "The
fine folk, though it can be difficult to tell the two apart."
Referee
"Aye, they all
make up stories … well, most of the time.” He looks pensive for a
moment reaching for his mug.”Although I once served a real Knight.”
Pedrag rolls his eyes and sighs quietly. “We were in the hills …
back in ...” He turns to Pedrag. “That was before your time, son.
You were still up in the North.” He lifts is mug with great effort
and drinks eagerly. ”For month sheep were disappearing and the good
mayor had pleaded Swanstone for help … and the very fine Lady
Bianca sent her best: Ulrich's son if you believe it and he was with
the Golden Knight. And I showed him the way to the old burial ground,
you know where Aloisia now has her church of the bastard child”. He
cackles again and smacks his lips. “Very fine Knights both of them
and I hope I will still be alive when Sir Zoltan finally … well …
I'm not getting younger … but some day he will finally sit on that
throne.”
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
A ghost of a smile
creeps into the corner of the Salt Knight's mouth. "Indeed.
And I'm told Sir Zoltan wields Zuraw even now."
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
“Ah” He looks
down into the water and stirs it slightly with his hand. “Can
I tell you a secret?” he says in a whisper. “My
fellow knights tease me about being slovenly and the truth is that as
a child, I did not like to bathe. But my gran devised a game for us
to play during bath time that brought me to love it. She called it
Roses and Thorns. We would each take turns sharing something
beautiful that happened to us that day and later something hard.
Would you indulge my nostalgia for childish things and play with me
now Ružica? I’m sure Pedrag wouldn’t miss you for a few moments.
You could sit on that little stool behind me and we wouldn’t see
each other, just hear our voices. I could go first. Yes?" There
is a silence as she considers the request. The slow drip of water
from Milos’ beard makes a delicate echoing sound in the washroom.
Referee
 |
| Dimly lit common room of the Oak & Well |
Ružica touches her mouth as if to suppress a moan and looks in
panic over her shoulder at the door. Then she turns slowly around,
limps over to the stool and sits down. “If … If it is not too
much ... “she says hesitantly. “If it pleases my lord I would
rather … listen first.” She sits stock-still and waits.
Heldris steps out of
the inn to take a breath of fresh air. He walks pensively towards the
town's well and stands for a moment to listen to the woman preaching
about the Child. Looking around to gauge the interest of the
townsfolk
Referee
When you leave the inn
you see the white-haired woman still standing at the well, the two
villagers still with her listening attentively. They are talking
quietly and you only hear fragments of their conversation. “The
prophecy … Don't worry … terrors of the night ...” On the other
side a fat old man is struggling while assembling a booth from wooden
beams and the canvas of the wagon. The man has a thin moustache and
wears a patched green tunic and worn out boots with straw filling the
many holes. An old woman sitting on the bench under the oak shouts
obviously unhelpful advice over the square while the other elders
next to her nudge each other and laugh ignoring the preacher
entirely.
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
The Dove Knight
approaches the woman and the two villagers, making no effort to hide
the fact that has caught a few of their words. "Good
evening. I am glad indeed we don't have to worry, since the Night
brings terrible things with her dreams." He turns to the
woman, with genuine inquisitiveness: "What does the Child
preach to us now at the gates of Dusk?"
Referee
The woman looks at you with hooded eyes for a moment, bows and
crosses her hands before her chest. Her hair is long and greasy and
although her white tunic is patched and dusty around her neck she
wears a sigil on a golden chain. She touches the arm of one of the
peasants. ”You may leave now with the blessing of the Child. I see
you both on Skyday for mass.” She takes a step back to get a better
look at you. “Sir Heldris I believe? Fear not Dove Knight, the
Mother keeps us safe at night and if not ....”She smiles and her
eyes light up”... if terror strikes at night we rejoice!” She
raises her voice over the laughter of the peasants sitting on the
bench. “For it is written that the coming of the Child is near if
vassals tremble in their dreams, if terror strikes and all is
still.”
Sir Heldris the Dove Knight
The Dove Knight smiles
and bows, “I can tell you one thing: if and when terror strikes,
not everyone will be still.” Then, in a more serious tone, ”but I
do hope you speak the truth, my lady, when you say that the Mother
will protect us all. I think we’ll need her in the days to come…”
Heldris looks around him, to the laughing people on the square, to
the old cursing woman idling on a bench. “People don’t seem to
pay you heed, but I think you speak from the heart… you speak from
faith.” He lowers his voice, almost in a conspiratory whisper.
“Speaking of children, something seems amiss in Bohat recently…”
he watches her closely for any reaction, “something that is not
what is supposed to be.”
Referee
The woman smiles. “The world is like a broken cup and we cannot
mend it. We pour into the cup and we keep on pouring: should we be
surprised that it cannot hold the water? Should we be surprised that
the Realm is divided, that the strong take what they will and the
weak suffer? Until the world is healed … “ She goes on with her
sermon but doesn't mention the children only the Child that will heal
the world.
Referee
“I once saw Sir Zigmunt with his sword.” The old man finishes his
drink and slides it over to Pedrag. “A mountain of a man. Would
have been a fine King, a fine King indeed … a crying shame how he
ended.” Pedrag grabs the mug form the old man and fills it at the
barrel behind him. The barrel reads Sisters of the Ryba. “Old Benno
loves to brag about his role in slaying the eight-legged beast.
Without me the Knights would still wander the hills.”
He imitates Benno's thin old man voice. Both laugh and Benno doesn't
seem to mind the barb. You play for a while and win almost all
rounds. At the end Pedrag reads out the numbers Benno rolled but adds
as many as to make him not be last. He winks at you. “Well ...”.
Pedrag shakes his head and hands over the dice. “You earned them
fair and square. I guess it's time for me to sharpen the axe.”
Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight
Anastaz shrugs.
"I'll take a few swings myself if you'd tell me a thing or two
about this town. My companions feel the children are a little
strange."
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos slides further
down into the water and begins: “This morning we rode hard
toward Bohat, across the moors, the sun was breaking through the
clouds in dazzling rays. I looked to my left and the light reflected
on the golden armor of Sir Perilake. And on the right, Sir Anastaz
looked toward the horizon with a calm that settled my heart even in
the midst of the thunder of hooves below me. I felt so alive Ružica,
and also a part of something bigger than myself. In my right place.
It was a passing moment of wonder. Now your turn. Tell me a rose that
bloomed in your world…”
Referee
Ruzica makes a soft sound that you fail to interpret. She begins
hesitatingly first but with every word her voice becomes stronger
until in the end she almost sings. “ My world is barren like the
moors in winter and winter never passes and no roses grow. But I love
listening to stories and when I was a little girl I went with my
father to the castle for Kindlemass to sell the candles they so
desperately need. On the night of Kindlemass we stood at the lake and
they send little boats onto the lake each with a candle and although
it was cold and dark and no one … and we were standing behind the
nobles and they gave praise to the dead and told their stories. Oh it
was so cold and I cried and cried and yet my heart was full.” You
feel her shift a little and fall silent again.
 |
| Kind old Ružika |
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos allows a small silence to punctuate the transition, then
says: “My gran would say now: the roses have been spoken, the
passing blossoms of beauty in our lives honored, may they continue to
bless us. And now the thorns.”
He lets a long sigh out and begins. “I
was playing with the children of Bohat while one named Biljana
watched from afar. Her eyes were hard and flinty, lacking the
brilliant light of childhood wonder. She challenged me to a duel and
we fought with branches but her intent was deadly serious, her
movements precise and uncannily swift. I parried her attacks and
searched for any trace of childhood innocence in her demeanor but
found none. My heart recognized that she was under the spell of some
dark influence but I could not pierce through to the child beneath
it. I despair that she might not even be there anymore. I fear for
the children of Bohat but cannot perceive the source of the
affliction. It weighs heavy upon my soul. Now it is your turn. Share
a thorn that draws your blood and brings you pain.”
Referee
Pedrag is taken aback.
“You won the game Sir Knight, and I will take care of the wood.”
Benno knocks out the pipe while Pedrag praises Bohat. ”We have a
beautiful village, the richest dwelling in all of Barowia … “ and
so on. Finally he addresses the concerns of your companions:” I
don't know about the children being strange but their parents … I
have spoken to Dunja, after her daughter allegedly … well bothered
Ružica and the kind soul wouldn't talk about it so I paid the
huntress a visit. She was clearly distraught.” Pedrag leans in.
“Her daughter wasn't the same after she got lost in the woods. All
of the villagers who we could spare went with her that day to search
for Biljana but we couldn't find her. Three days later she was back
home and Dunja wouldn't say no more, only that she had punished her
daughter and that Ružica shouldn't worry.”
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Milos allows a small silence to punctuate the transition, then
says: “My gran would say now: the roses have been spoken, the
passing blossoms of beauty in our lives honored, may they continue to
bless us. And now the thorns.”
He lets a long sigh out and begins. “I
was playing with the children of Bohat while one named Biljana
watched from afar. Her eyes were hard and flinty, lacking the
brilliant light of childhood wonder. She challenged me to a duel and
we fought with branches but her intent was deadly serious, her
movements precise and uncannily swift. I parried her attacks and
searched for any trace of childhood innocence in her demeanor but
found none. My heart recognized that she was under the spell of some
dark influence but I could not pierce through to the child beneath
it. I despair that she might not even be there anymore. I fear for
the children of Bohat but cannot perceive the source of the
affliction. It weighs heavy upon my soul. Now it is your turn. Share
a thorn that draws your blood and brings you pain.”
Referee
She speaks slowly and
the fire that had burned in her before is gone: “Of the thorns
there are many but I will tell you what you want to hear not what I
want to tell. You want to hear about Bijlana and Marko and little
Saša who ran after me and teased me and threw stones at me. What of
it? They are children, mean and … but at least they're honest. The
pitiful glance, the flickering gaze, those who look away in ill
concealed disgust hurt so much more.”
Sir Milos, the Fox Knight
Without looking up from
the tub, Milos says in a sober voice “The thorns are spoken then and
the game is ended. I thank you for your company, your indulgence, and
your trust. It is true that I asked you to speak of something you
would rather not have spoken of. For that I am in your debt. If you
need a boon of me in the future, you should ask it.” Milos stares
out across the bath water in thought as the old woman quietly
withdraws from the washroom.
Ser Perilake, The Gilded
Knight
The Salt Knight's
conversation is disturbed briefly as a hand clasps down on old
Benno's shoulder.
"By the River, is
that Benno?" Sir Perilake smiles warmly down at the old man,
having returned from a tense conversation with Lady Inga. "I
am glad to see you my old friend." Benno splutters on his
pipe, and then quickly sets it down and begins to rise.
"My Lord -"
Perilake puts out a hand and laughs
"Please Benno,
sit. I did not mean to interrupt your conversation with Sir Anastasz,
and the honour is mine." Perilake nods to the others at the
table. "This is a good man. I swear, without his help then
Zoltan and I would be wandering thes hills of Bohat to this day!"
Benno blinks in
surprise, then tries to suppress a grin as he sees the men at the
table gawp around him. Perilake clasps his hand, then nods to the
others and to his brother knight. "I will leave you to your
game, my friends."
Sir Anastaz, The
Salt Knight
Anastaz flashes a
small grin at Perilake corroborating the old man's story. "I
must be away as well. Thank you for everything, Pedrag, Benno."
He tips his head and joins Perilake.
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