[Mkguild] RR - Breakfast Talk

[cokane8116 at aol.com]

   “What is the Kings Hunt?” Aldwin asked. “Isn’tthat a Lightbringer celebration?”

 

   “It is,” Trey answered. “On that day the Dukeand his entourage ride out and go hunting for the largest buck. In celebrationof Artela. Once captured the buck cleaned and covered with ointments and put inhorse tack. Then its released back into the wild as a Mercy offering to Artela.”

 

   “So they go to the effort to catch a buck,wash him and clean him up. Just to let him go?” Aldwin asked. “Sounds kind ofweird.”

 

“The idea is the give backto Artela a gift for the bounty she gives us,” Rita explained.

 

   “That makes sense,” Alwin responded and tooka sip of his porridge. “But isn’t Duke Thomas a horse? They don’t eat meat. Howdoes he feel about hunting something. I mean some places still hunt and eathorses.”

 

   Trey shrugged. “Never given it much thoughtto be honest. But the Duke does it every year.”

 

   “How does the change effect a person? Whatif the Duke had been a Buck and not a stallion,” Rita asked. “Makes it hard tohunt one of your own kind.”

 

   “I know that certain nobles have been excusedfrom the ceremony,” Trey responded.

 

   “The curse has changed more than just bodies,”Trey said. “It’s changed everything.”

 




***********************


    On Wednesday, January 10, 2024 at 11:52:27 AM EST, Rimme the Weasel <ontherimme at gmail.com> wrote:  
 
 Having woken up so suddenly, it wasn't until Kasaima sent them out to make breakfast that Reed finally examined what had happened to his own body overnight. His muscles were sore and awkward, though that was as much from training as from the curse. His hips were tight against his trousers, and as he sat down, he could easily feel the now-forever vacant throne where his manhood once sat.
"You can have some of my pants, Reed," Aldwin said. "I don't know if I'll be needing mine anymore, soon." Aldwin's feathers had not yet spread above his chest and shoulders, with a few light layers of down crossing to his upper arms and the back of his neck behind his ears. The biggest change was to his feet, which had stretched out a few more inches overnight, so that his toes were now spread outward like webbed fingers, and his heel now a thick nob on thin feet. Aldwin was still scraping the mud off himself after he had bolted up earlier. His walking was still wobbly, and he had now resigned himself to sitting on the bench, shifting his around to get a feel for a digitigrade stance.

"Thanks," Reed said. "I think 'Rita' would be more appropriate, though." She sighed, distinctly more feminine than it was last night. "I should start getting used to my new name, as soon as I can."

"You know," Trey said as he lifted a pot of water onto the fire, "everyone would understand if either of you sat out a day or two to adjust. You don't want to strain yourselves."

"I'm fine," Rita said, giving her limbs a stretch. "I've had years to practice controlling my breathing and relaxing my muscles." She smiled as she remembered the starlit nights she had stood, half-watching, half-meditating, as a boy. "Besides, I think the worst of my changes has passed. Better to forge the metal while it's still hot."

"Hot metal is weak metal, though," Aldwin said. He held open a bag of grain for Trey, who was adding several cupfuls of grain into the pot. "I'm not a smith, but I know metal can snap when it gets too hot too fast."

"I don't think muscles work the same way as metal," Trey said. "But she does have a point. The Curse can be very fluid during the transition period. Using magic now can have very strange effects on your body. Are you able to shift yet, by the way?"

"Shift?" Rita blinked. "I thought only animal morphs like you could shift."

"All Keepers can shift. It's just that us animal morphs can make more practical use of our full forms. Probably better if you didn't shift, actually. Your clothes are tight enough as-is, and Aldwin doesn't have enough spares for experimenting."

"Wait," Aldwin said, "does this mean we can shift, even before we've finished changing?"

"Hmmm," Trey thought. "Well, back when I had my change, all I wanted to do was lie in bed for days afterward. Shifting was the last thing on my mind. Yours seems to be happening much slower, but I still wouldn't shift if I were you. You might end up bending your arms in the wrong direction, and be stuck with a backwards arm for the rest of your life. Wicked as it is, the Curse knows what it's doing. You can practice your magic, as long as you don't try to manipulate the Curse."

"How long have you lived in Metamor, Trey? Have you always been an adventurer?"

"All my life. All I've ever known was the Keep. To be honest, mostly inside the Keep. Down in the dungeons where rats and mice have made their own homes. Clean areas filled with fairy lights and comforts. I was about nine or ten when the Curse hit. I'm still not sure why the rats and mice decided to hide away. No one seems to mind us much. My father is a carpenter and my mom's a seamstress, but I've always had a sort of wander lust. I can do some really amazing things with wood, though."

"Oh?" Rita smiled. "What sort of things?"

Trey reached into his side and pulled out an item from his purse. From within, among the chinking of coins, he withdrew something and placed it in Rita's hand. It was a finely carved figure of a rat morph, miniature sword held high, shield in on his other arm. "Matthias. Or so I've heard him described."

"Ah, he's one of the Long Scouts, isn't he? Oh, yes, the one who was half-turned into stone," she said, turning the sculpture around, admiring the curl of the tail, and the subtle muscles beneath the wooden jerkin. "I've heard other scouts down south talk about them. Their deeds are legendary, especially Misha's. I even heard George the Cutlass lives here with them."

"I've heard of them all too, but never really met them until we met Misha. I still haven't met Matthias or George." Trey held something else in his hands, not as fine as the statue, but just as precious. It was a set of wooden beads, tied together into a loop, with the cross of Yahshua on one end.

"Oh, are you a Follower too?" Aldwin asked.

Trey nodded. "I've gone to Mass ever since Hough came. I try to pray my rosary every morning."

"Ah," Rita's eyes shifted. "My family raised me to be Lothanasi. They often told me about Patildor attacks. My parents... weren't consistent, though." She squirmed, reluctant to reveal more. She could still hear the outraged screams, the squelch of a sword. The fires crackling. The charred skin on her uncle's white skull. She shuddered. "I've since learned better, though. We both want what's best for our souls. You two may pray to Eli, while I pray to Kammoloth."

Both Aldwin and Trey noticed the change in her manner, and with a silent look, agreed not to ask further questions.

Soon the porridge was ready, and the three set out a bowl of nuts, some dried berries, and some salted pork for their companions to add as they wished. Talo looked down at the tiny bowls. He could swallow half the cauldron in one gulp. "Talo need to get own food?" Talo asked.

"I see no other option," Nyein said. "We'll have to build up a stockpile of meat for you." A thought came to him. "Today is June 3rd. The Day of the Duke's Hunt. He'll have to go outside the valley to get something to eat."

"Talo not too hungry now. Talo worry may be very hungry soon."

"We have three people whose bodies have changed overnight," Kasaima said as he lifted the magic wards that had protected their camp during the night. "Let's start with getting reacquainted with them."_______________________________________________
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