[Mkguild] Calling Harvest Festival Writers

[C. Matthias]

At 01:20 PM 8/6/2008, Hallan Mirayas wrote:
>Hey, everybody.  From what I can see, we've got 
>Saturday crammed to bursting (this is good), but 
>Sunday doesn't have much to it.  Anybody have 
>any problems with a fireworks display to cap off 
>the festivities?  Any other ideas?  We've got 
>until until August 31st to polish this story up 
>for the list, so let's make sure it's the best we've got!

Actually, scratch that.  I cannot upload my scene 
to the wiki.  It says that no page should have 
more than 200,000 characters.  We're going to 
have to break the Harvest Festival pages up by 
day.  I'm posting the scene in this email so 
folks can look over it and discuss where it 
should best go, and whether that gives us some good stuff for Sunday or not.

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         The sun had fallen behind the edge of 
the Dragon Mountains, bathing Metamor Valley in a 
warm scarlet twilight.  As the light began to 
fade, lamplighters walked the streets to keep the 
city illuminated throughout the night.  The 
Autumnal Festival was in full swing, and 
revellers would spend many hours yet celebrating 
a bountiful harvest.  For one horse-like man, the 
celebrations had not yet begun.

         Duke Thomas stood upon a balcony in one 
of the towers overlooking the city.  At his side 
was the Lady Alberta Artelanoth.  She was dressed 
in a radiant gown of lavender.  Against her grey 
donkey-like hide it made her seem to glow like a 
Spring flower – a bit of life in the midst of 
death.  But what truly made her glow was the look 
of delight on her face, her eyes bright with 
heady excitement from a long day of festival, songs, dancing, and games.

         The Duke's eyes fell upon her sublime 
grace, noting the way her long ears turned from 
side to side to capture the raucous singing of 
Keepers below.  His nose drank in the sweet scent 
of equine musk laced with delicate perfume.  His 
hoof-like fingers reached out for the back of her 
gown, feeling the powerful yet feminine muscles 
beneath.  His tail flicked nervously from side to 
side, his nervous heart pounding in his 
chest   Thomas could have stayed the rest of his life in that one moment.

         In his younger days when his only 
responsibility was learning the ways of 
statecraft from his mother – his father had 
passed on before he was old enough to have known 
him – he had often wondered what it was like to 
love another so fully that life without them was 
empty.  Many times he had caught his mother 
crying quietly when she thought none could see 
her.  But all throughout his youth he had always 
known that he would marry who his mother and Thalberg chose for him.

         He had met several girls that they hoped 
he would be interested in; boorish ladies from 
southern lands who had shown more interest in 
pleasing mother than in him.  Thomas turned from 
them all back to his studies.  It was not until 
after he became Duke and Metamor was cast under 
the yoke of the curses that this foolishness came 
to an end.  Who would want to marry a man who 
looked like a horse?  Even a prostitute would be 
loath to sleep with a beast like him.

         But now, as everything that was Alberta 
filled his senses, he knew what love was, and was 
grateful that it had finally come to him 
too.  She leaned forward, her hoof-like hands 
gripping the marble railing tightly as she tried 
to see some detail below.  The railing pulled at 
her dress, drawing taut the lace across her 
bodice.  Thomas felt his heart skip a beat as he 
saw soft grey-hide flesh slip free.

         Swallowing quickly, the horse lord 
gestured to the city. "My Lady Alberta, I can see 
that you have been enjoying the festival."

         "Aye, Thomas.  ‘Tis a marvellous wonder 
thy people hath made.  The songs!  The 
dancing!  The shows of skill and the silly 
plays!  Oh, ‘tis like a dream that ne'er ends!" 
Her voice was filed with the wonder of all that 
she tried to describe.  She smiled to him, and 
Thomas stood taller.  Though he resembled a horse 
and she a donkey, she was nearly as tall as 
he.  She was more a Steppelands donkey called an 
Assingh, and they were just as large as 
horses.  They were found in no other land.  By the gods, she was beautiful.

         "And dinner?" Thomas asked.

         They had not eaten in private as they 
often did.  Instead, Thomas hosted a banquet, 
with Alberta at his side.  Jugglers and jongleurs 
had provided entertainment to the assembled Lords 
and Ladies of the Metamor Valley.  A few of the 
Keep's younger mages even performed a few tricks 
of their trade, making various lights and 
illusions appear.  While it ‘rained' on them in 
the hall, Thomas had given the caster, a familiar 
lad named Kindle, high compliments for his 
work.  Alberta had joined him in the toast, and 
her words of praise were even more efficacious in 
securing the applause of all assembled.  The poor 
boy had been thoroughly embarrassed.

         But what had most impressed Thomas was 
the look in his Steward's eye.  The alligator 
Thalberg had always been suspicious of Alberta, a 
fact that pained Thomas.  But over the last few 
months, some of that suspicion was being 
allayed.  And for the first time, Thomas could 
see genuine affection and admiration in his 
yellow eyes when he looked upon Lady Alberta.  No 
other of his counsellors had she left to win over 
now.  And finally Thomas felt he could do what he 
had yearned to do for some time now.

         "Dinner wast lovely," Alberta replied as 
she stood upright. "I wish the festival would 
ne'er end.  ‘Tis silly though.  I wilt one day want to go riding again."

         "And I with you," Thomas replied, unable 
to do anything but smile anxiously.  He fumbled 
one hand into his breast pocket while she looked 
away.  He held its contents tightly and put his 
hand behind his back.  Nervously, he tapped his 
wrist against the root of his tail.

         "My Lady," Thomas began , edging closer to her, "I love you."

         Alberta's ears folded back and she 
blushed demurely. "I love thee too, my Thomas."

         "Not as Duke.  Not as a Hassan?  Not 
even as a horse, but as a man?  As just Thomas?"

         She lifted her hands and laid them 
against his chest.  Her snout lifted to his and 
he felt her warm breath tickling the hairs of his 
nose.  Thick, supple lips opened and she smiled, 
her broad flat teeth still freshly white from her 
transformation only four months ago. "I love thee 
as Thomas, as my man.  Thou art nothing else to me."

         Thomas breathed an anxious sigh and 
smiled as well. "I will always love thee, my 
Alberta.  My lass.  My Lady.  You have stolen my 
heart, and there is only one way I could ever have it back."

         "Tell me," her ears folded back even 
more, and her eyes brightened. "My ears art thine."

         Thomas nodded and stepped back slowly, 
letting her hands remain upon his chest.  He 
shifted the ceremonial buckler and blade that he 
had worn that day with one hand while he 
knelt.  His knees were no longer quite the same 
as when he'd been a man, but for this he would 
manage.  His hooves scrapped against the stone, 
but he could barely hear it over the beating of his heart.

           He lifted up his hand and held out a 
large golden ring with a brilliant yellow diamond 
and several topaz jewels in pavé.  Alberta stared 
at it in shock, her chestnut eyes so wide that 
the whites nearly showed.  With tender voice, he 
said, "This ring has been in my family for 
generations.  My mother wore it, and my 
grandmother before her.  It has always been worn 
by the Duchess of Metamor Keep.  And now I 
present it to you, My Lady Alberta Artelanoth.  I 
present it you as I seek your hand in 
marriage.  Will you be my wife, Alberta?  I would 
have no other stand at my side the remainder of 
my days.  I could bear to have no other than you."

         Alberta reached down and cradled the 
ring gingerly between her thick fingers.  He'd 
had the ring resized in secret so that she could 
wear it.  One of the drawbacks to being equine 
was their thick clumsy fingers and hoof-like 
nails.  Over the years Thomas had overcome that 
difficulty, and already Ablerta was showing some 
facility with them.  But she could not manage to 
grasp the ring effectively then, even though she dearly tried.

         "Oh, my Thomas!" she cried, her eyes 
beginning to brim with tears.  Her ears stood 
upright, and her long ropy tail flicked 
energetically from side to side. "I wilt be thy 
wife!  There art no other man for my husband than thee!"

         Thomas smiled broadly and gripped the 
ring carefully between his hard black nails.  He 
then lifted his other hand and slid it beneath 
her wrist, feeling the short fetlocks that 
sprouted from her frilled cuff.  She held her 
hand still and he slid the ring carefully past 
her nail and over her knuckle.  It settled at the 
base of her finger, and glimmered in the evening 
twilight like a bright yellow star.

         Alberta brayed a short joyous laugh as 
she admired the ring gracing her finger.  It fit 
snugly, but not too tight.  Thomas smiled and 
rose to his hooves, his hands framing her arm 
between them. "My love, my sweet Alberta.  I 
cannot tell you how happy I am right now.  I love 
you and will always be here with you."

         "And I with thee, my love, My Thomas." 
Alberta leaned into his chest, her hands clasped 
tight between them.  Thomas held her, wrapping 
his arms around her back.  The frills of her 
dress rubbed between his shins, and it was all he 
could do to keep from crying out in joy so that 
all of Metamor could hear.  They would hear soon enough.  And then...

         Thomas nuzzled her ears and lipped at 
them gently. "You know, that tomorrow there will 
be a celebration unlike any other in recent 
memory here at Metamor.  Perhaps ever before.  I 
will announce our engagement at the beginning of 
the festivities tomorrow morning.  There will be 
trumpets blown, banners waved, voices raised in 
cheers and song like you have never heard 
before." He stared up at the sky for a moment, 
his eyes wild with imagination. "It will be, 
something I have never seen before either."

         Alberta lifted her muzzle and gently 
lipped his cheek. "‘Tis for tomorrow.  Tonight, I 
want thee.  All I want be thee, my love."

         A loud neigh escaped his throat at 
last.  He swept her into his arms and in a flight 
of fancy he carried her back inside.  She brayed 
in merriment the whole way, her eyes never leaving his equine face.

         Together, the engaged couple celebrated 
their newfound joy for many long hours.  And 
tomorrow, all of Metamor would celebrate with them.  It truly was a happy day.

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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias