<table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" ><tr><td valign="top" style="font: inherit;">A curry filled sweet roll?  That's just evil Matt.  Though I must admit, between that and the implied reading material I got a good laugh.  Looking forward to reading the rest of this one when I get a chance. John Burman --- On Thu, 3/11/10, C. Matthias <jagille3@vt.edu> wrote: <blockquote style="border-left: 2px solid rgb(16, 16, 255); margin-left: 5px; padding-left: 5px;"> From: C. Matthias <jagille3@vt.edu> Subject: [Mkguild] Keeper's Return (2/13) To: "Metamor Keep" <MKGuild@lists.integral.org> Date: Thursday, March 11, 2010, 6:13 PM <div id="yiv565856567"> Part 2 Metamor Keep: Keeper's Return By Charles Matthias Jan 30, 708 CR          “So it’s to be Ellcaran,” Kayla mused as she, Abafouq, Captain Aldanto, and Darius Egland listened to the report from Guernef.  The white gryphon had spent most of his days in the sky.  He would fly on ahead and scour the sea for signs of danger, both natural and supernatural.  Thankfully he’d seen none of the latter, but in the dead of winter there was plenty enough of the former to worry about.          And now he brought them news of ice choking the coasts and harbours in the northern seas.  Of all the ports, only Ellcaran could accept them, and even they had many of their wharves overrun by the chill winter.  Ellcaran was a seaport of the Southern Midlands and was a city not known for being hospitable to Keepers.  Not, truthfully, that any were.  Beyond the boundaries of the Northern Midlands and Duke Thomas’s reach few ever encountered non-human cursed Keepers.  Albeit a distant port Ellcaran would have to suffice.          “We can reach Ellcaran in another day,” Aldanto said as he traced his finger along the map’s coastline on his table. “Once there we’ll have to hire carriages to lead us north.  I don’t suppose you have any money.”          “Nothing yet,” Kayla admitted with a swish of her tail.  She leaned over the map but kept her paws on the dragon swords. “But we have enough at Metamor, and your liege did promise just compensation to you and your crew for this.”          “Aye, that he did.  And a good thing too.  Hiring carriages will be expensive this time of year.”          “I brought some with me,” Darius added through furrowed brows. “It should be enough.”          “You can barter my skill in enchanting stones as well if you must,” Abafouq suggested. “I am thinking that a promise of pyrocks or glow stones will make them amenable to our request.”          Aldanto nodded. “Do you have any I can give as surety?”          “I will fashion one tonight,” the Binoq replied with a smile. “I’ll need more stones if I am to make any more, but I suspect those will not be hard to come by once we land.”          “No, they won’t,” Aldanto agreed. “Very well, we shall have to trust that will be enough.” He managed to keep his gaze levelled at the Nauh-kaee who crouched before the cabin door, blocking all escape.  His firm avian eyes held them prisoner. “Thank you, Guernef.  This is the news we’ve needed.  I’m going to give the first mate our new heading.  Excuse me.”          Guernef bowed his beak slightly and said in his harsh voice. “I will wait in our room until it is time to leave this ship.” He turned on his haunches, showing the right which had a nasty scar over the thigh from where a tree limb had punctured it, and then shoved himself out the door and into the aft castle hall.  Aldanto uncertainly followed his leonine tail out.          Kayla lifted one paw to the map, drawing the katana with it.  In the cramped room the sword seemed many times larger than it was but the action was such second nature to everyone that none took note of the naked steel.  She tapped the coastline with her knuckles. “It should take us ten days to journey from Ellcaran to Metamor if the roads are good and we don’t suffer mishap.  Oh, if only we still had the Rheh Talaran to ride!  We could be there in a day or two with them to lead us.”          “I am wondering what became of them,” Abafouq mused, eyes staring past the map into memory.          “The Rheh Talaran?” Darius asked with a curious grunt.  In the few weeks they had been journeying, the Pyralian seaman had become accustomed to their beastly appearance, but he was still withdrawn and offered them only the basic rudiments of friendship.  What thoughts or feelings he had he kept to himself.          “The most marvellous horses this world shall ever see,” Kayla replied, glancing at the sword in her paw before smoothly slipping it back in its sheath.  She could feel the warm song of the dragons in her mind.  Ever since she’d struck the Marquis down with them, she felt a love from them and a sense of attachment that she couldn’t explain.  When she returned to Metamor she would give them back to Rickkter who was their true wielder — no one could ever claim to own them without losing their hand — but she found imagining that harder and harder.  And she had a vague sense that the dragons didn’t want to go back to him anyway.          “Horses?  What makes them so special?”          “They can fly,” Abafouq said with complete aplomb. “And any other horse that runs with them can fly too.  Our Åelf friend would say that the Rheh are what horses were meant to be, only this fallen world has led many to forget their true nature.  But with them they can remember.  A touch of grace amongst your equine friends, that is the Rheh Talaran.”          Darius’s eyebrows lifted and he could not hold back the smile. “They sound very impressive indeed.  A horse that can fly!  I would love to see it myself.”          “Mayhap you will, Captain.  Mayhap you will.” Kayla stretched her fingers a moment and then reclasped the hilts. “But I think we’ll have to settle for a carriage for now.  I’m going to pack my things.  Just think!  In less than two weeks we’ll be home!”          Kayla nearly bounced on her paws out of the room.  Behind her, Abafouq smiled with a deep sadness behind his eyes. “Some of us, aye.”  Darius said nothing. ----------          The five of them were wrapped in blankets as they huddled near the fire warming their paws.  The cellars were always cold, but especially so in winter.  So the five rats who lived down there emerged to spend their evening about one of the hearths in the Deaf Mule, heedless of the other patrons who’d come to chase away the cold with companionship and ale. But this mischief had long found their own company the most pleasant of all.  It was just warmer here at the Mule.          “I admit,” Julian said as he turned his paws back and forth in front of the crackling flame, “this was a good idea.  It is much nicer up here.”          Sir Saulius chittered, long whiskers twitching and shaking off the drip of snowfall. “‘Tis always a better place that hath a fire to warm bones and weary flesh!”          Elliot and Goldmark both nodded as they hunkered closer. Goldmark was a taur, so his back half lay out across the floor a hazard for the larger Keepers who might walk past.  Hector mentioned this to him when they’d first arrived, but the rattaur only smiled and winked.  The others laughed and then kept a watch out to make sure nobody did trip.          “Although,” Julian added with a smile, his incisors reflecting the orange flames, “I had hoped for some place more private to discuss what we should do to welcome Charles back.  This will have to do.”          “Charles is coming back?” Hector repeated in delighted surprise. “When did you hear about this?”          “This morning,” Julian replied.  Goldmark and Elliot nodded, having heard the news already.  Sir Saulius, who’d been out on patrol the last week, had not.  His whiskers stood on end and his dark eyes brightened beneath the grey fur of his brow. “Apparently the Longs and a few others have known for a week.  They’ve been quietly buying supplies for a welcome home party for Charles and the others.  I thought we might do something similar.”          “Do you think Charles will come here with the others?” Hector asked with a curious frown. “Won’t he go to Glen Avery to be with his wife first?”          “I don’t know,” Julian replied candidly. “But we should be ready just in case.  He’ll be coming in from the south with the others who left with him last year.”          Elliot tapped a chewstick against the front of his teeth. “We should let Tallis know.  The Writer’s Guild will want to know that two of their former headmasters are returning from their quest against that evil place.”          “Indeed,” Sir Saulius agreed, wrapping his tail about his middle. “I wouldst prefer to present the stables the knights and I built for him at the Glen myself, but we shouldst be here to greet my squire if this way he dost come.”          “And if he goes to Glen Avery first?” Goldmark asked.  A longer limbed patron passing by growled, but stepped over his body.  The rat laughed, “What am I saying, this is Metamor!” He churred deeply with a toothy grin. “To get to the Glen from the south he must skirt Euper, hardly a stone’s cast from the Keep’s walls.  Why not stop here unless he follows some goat track on the mountains or somehow learns to fly!” He laughed again, and then sobered immediately. “But if he does go to the Glen first, we’ll need to offer comfort rather than welcome.”          All their faces fell at that. “Aye,” Saulius mused. “‘Twill be a terrible blow for him to receive.”          Julian’s moue deepened as he considered for a moment.  His plans were moving along smoothly and would soon be ready to reveal.  But for Charles, the one person who had believed in their worth in all the years of their hiding, he would do anything.  That decided him. “We can prepare for his return here, but if we learn he has gone ahead to Glen Avery, well, we have a team of horses standing ready that can take all of us there.  And if he comes here, then we can all go to the Glen together.  We just need to find something to offer as both welcome and condolence.”          “I’ve been working on something,” Hector said softly, eyes downcast. “I’ll have it ready in a few days.”          “We should each find something,” Elliot added, his voice equally subdued. “He’s been there for us.  We’re going to be there for him when he needs us.”          “Aye, we shalt.” Sir Saulius took a deep breath and then huddled closer to the fire. “I wilt depart on the morrow for the Glen.  Lady Kimberly needs to be told of our intentions.  I wilt return as soon as I am able to aid thee.”          “Thank you.” Julian stretched his paws toward the fire and then drew them back beneath the blanket. “Now, before we make any other plans, I suggest we get something to warm our bellies too.  We have much to do and a full stomach makes for a good beginning.”          A hearty growl from Goldmark’s lower torso echoed the white rat’s thoughts perfectly. ----------          Rickkter stared up at the banners hung at the far end of Long Hall with some disdain.  That rat’s name was plastered all over them.  No mention yet of Kayla or any of the others who’d gone to Marzac.  He shouldn’t be surprised.  Charles was a Long where none of the others were.  Misha always took care of family first.          And sometimes, the raccoon mused irritably, he did so in the most aggravating of ways.  The sly fox had taken Rickkter’s complaint about reading material to heart and had been providing new material to him every day for the last week.  Unfortunately for the raccoon the fox’s idea of worth reading material left much to be desired; each sample was more horrid than the last.  The first edition had been a copy of some of the stories that Charles had written during his tenure at the Writer’s Guild.  The second had been collections of love poems of a particularly overemotional kind — the type that a lovesick woman might write.  It only proceeded downhill from there.  The last had been of such a hilariously licentious nature that the raccoon had been surprised the vellum didn’t catch flame when exposed to the light of the sun.          And then there were the very strange pastries that Misha brought with them.  The last had been sweet and delicate, until he’d reached the curry laden centre.  Anything more and the fox was going to suffer some broken bones once Rickkter was well enough to cause them.          On one end of the Long House some of the Longs practised their swordsmanship, while Finbar taught several of the younger scouts who showed promise the deadly art of knifework.   Misha was sparring with Caroline, but as soon as the otter nodded in the raccoon’s direction, the fox set aside his sword, wagged and waved.  Rickkter remained where he was with crossed arms.  His legs felt weak, but he was not going to go back to his quarters where that atrocious horse manure that dared to call itself literature waited.          Misha and Caroline walked over.  The otter’s smile was genuine and lacked all the mischief that coated the fox. “It’s good to see you up and about, Rick!  How are you feeling today?”          “Better than yesterday.  Tired of sitting in my room.” He glared at Misha. “And if you bring me one more book I will cut off the rest of your fingers.”          The fox’s grin widened and his tail wagged in unrepentant delight. “What?  You didn’t enjoy the Song of the Seven Swordmaids of Silvassa?”          “It was a title that made me question the wisdom of Habakkuk and his little band forestalling the end of the world. It was a title that hit bottom early on then dug several sub basements below that. What parts I could force past my eyes made me want to, in turn, go find a sharp stick, so I could dig them back out. And that particular title was all your idea, wasn’t it?” he finished up, glaring not at Misha but at the loudly guffawing Caroline.          “Guilty, yes,” she replied, raising a paw in surrender. “It was something given to me by a suitor many, many years ago, and I’d been looking for the perfect occasion to be rid of it.”          Rickkter just snorted and gestured to the banners, eager to drop the topic. “I see you are getting ready for their return.  But what of Kayla and the others?  Aren’t you going to welcome them back too?”          “Of course,” Misha replied, all serious again. “I have the tailors working on banners for the rest now.  These are the ones we used last Summer when Charles returned from the Glen.  Briefly.” The last word fell like acid from the fox’s tongue, but his smile quickly returned. “It shouldn’t be much longer now before he and the others are back for good.  And it should only be a few days before we have the other banners.  In the meantime, we need some help with other ideas for the party we’re going to throw.  Now if only I had some more help with it!”          “You may be good at sneaking in the forest, but you should never try it with words.” Rickkter shook his head and sighed. “I’ll help you plan your little party.  If only to get out of my room and away from your books!”          “Oh, would you?” Misha pretended to be surprised, for which he received an elbow in the ribs from Caroline. “Ooof!  Glad to have your help, Rick!  Come on and I’ll show you what we’ve got so far.”  Rickkter shook his head one more time, then did his best to follow the two to Misha’s office. ----------          Captain Aldanto, Darius, and Jerome all went ashore after the Racasse docked at an ice-slick wharf.  The Keepers kept below decks to stay out of sight while the humans secured transport.  Word was likely to spread anyway.  Seamen coming ashore for the first time in three weeks would be hard pressed to keep quiet about something as amazing as Keepers, even if their Captain had promised extra shifts to any who blabbed.          But for a few hours at least they did not have to worry.  Which proved necessary for, despite Jerome’s familiarity with the city, Aldanto’s promise of pyrocks, and Darius’s extra coin, it proved exceedingly difficult to find a merchant or mercenary willing to deliver them north to Metamor.  The litany of excuses was unending but most boiled down to four things: they lacked the men, horses, or carriages required, they were tied up with prior contracts and couldn’t help them, they would never do business in the demon-cursed city of Metamor, or they feared being trapped at Metamor by weather or banditry and suffering the touch of those demon-curses.          In the end they found a factor for a Metamorian merchant who gave them a reasonable price once they learned they would be transporting a few Metamorians.  They would have to share with bundles of cloth waiting to be turned into beautiful garments but at least they would have transport all the way to the Keep.  With a bit more negotiation they were able to obtain a promise that the carriages would leave the city that very day.  It cost them half a dozen pyrocks and half of both Aldanto and Darius’s coins but they had their transport.          When they returned to the Racasse Aldanto gave instructions to his first mate on what to do until they returned.  The chief task would be to help keep the dock free from ice.  They didn’t want to have to winter here if they could avoid it.  Aldanto and half-a-dozen of his men would accompany them to Metamor, but they planned only to stay the one day.          The Keepers readied all of their gear but kept hidden in their quarters.  Jerome, Lindsey, and Andares carried their gear for them while the others dressed in obscuring cloaks.  Even after the carriages arrived from the Urseil family factor they waited until the docks were quiet with most of the workers home for their afternoon meal.  They then snuck onto the covered carriages and lay hidden beneath heavy woolen tarps, snuggled together to keep warm.  Only Guernef remained behind.  Once night fell he would fly north along the road to join them.          Charles was next to James in the wagon, with Abafouq crouched behind him muttering to the pebbles Jerome had collected for him.  Jerome sat in the wagon with the tarp wrapped up to his waist, so they could see his legs folded crossways.  It was dark but warm, and also very bumpy as they meandered through the city streets.          They kept quiet as best they could.  James grunted a few times when the wheels hit a particularly unyielding stone. “I almost wish I were out there on all fours pulling these things!” Charles just chuckled and gently stroked his vine.          All in all they were six wagons heading north from Ellcaran through the winter wild toward distant Metamor.  Two wagons for cloth, two for supplies, and two more to hide the Keepers who did not appear human.  Between the seamen Aldanto brought, and the mercenaries in the Urseil employ, as well as the hidden Keepers, the wagons had more than enough protection to see them safely north.          The first day brought them along the coast road half a day north.  They continued well on into night before stopping.  After weeks of sea-travel, Aldanto’s men were all familiar with the sight of the Keepers.  And the men driving the wagons had all been to Metamor several times so found the Keepers just one more novelty for their journey.  They shared food and ale around the same fires, swapping stories of the road and rumours of the doings of distant dukes.  Only Guernef was treated with suspicion by the men of Ellcaran; but the Nauh-kaee seemed to prefer intimidating others so took no offence.          The weather cooperated with them that night and all the next day.  The clouds cleared from the sky to reveal a cool blue from horizon to horizon interrupted by the pale yellow light of the winter sun.  Their breath hung in the air.  Icy mud cracked and snow made powdery loose by the bitting chill squeaked as the wagon wheels crunched down the road.  The Keepers stayed in the wagons ready to draw the tarps over them at the first sign of other travellers, but the land was as empty as the sky.  Just before twilight the coastal road joined with the main road from Braasem to Giftum, and they found a hostel to spend the night in.  The men did.  The beastly Keepers made do with creeping into the hayloft after the dark fell and picking their way amongst vermin nests and forgotten wine bottles left behind after a secret amorous assignation drained them. The night’s sleep was still more comfortable than many they had endured on the long road to Marzac.          They began before dawn’s first light.  Lanterns dangled from each wagon, like six bright fireflies dancing and weaving up the northward road.  Old forests and fallow farms lay on either side, both denuded by the season but also full of the promise of life in the months to come.  The sky remained clear all that day too.  The evening brought them within sight of the Marchbourne river and the city of Giftum flanking either bank.          Another night in a traveller’s hostel, another night skulking through hay and avoiding unpleasantries their noses made all too vivid, and they entered the Northern Midlands proper.  Knowing they were crossing lands that swore allegiance to Duke Thomas filled them all with good cheer.  It was the first time in over seven months that they had set foot in such lands, and it seemed to them that some unnatural burden was lifted from their shoulders.  Even Lindsey, who had been dour ever since he’d ripped that foul black thing from his pouch, managed a smile or two.          Abafouq spent his days working on pyrock enchantment, and by the time they passed Komley on the sixth day, he had the half-dozen agreed to for passage.  He made a few more the next day for himself.  This kept him isolated despite riding with Charles, James, and Jerome.  He did converse with the others when they stopped for the evening, but otherwise he stayed in his reclusive shell.          Lindsey was hardly better, and Andares rarely said anything anyway.  Jessica and Kayla who rode with them more than made up for their taciturn manner.  The hawk and skunk conversed on any and every topic that came to mind, which more often than not elicited embarrassed chuckles from any man who happened to be listening in.          Aldanto’s men kept a wary eye open, though as they neared the southern extremes of the mountains, they gawked at the huge peaks rising up like jagged knives from the northern horizon.  The Urseil men were wary, but all had the droopy eyed look of men who had travelled this path many times and knew all of its tricks and false turns.  Darius Egland remained stoic, though his expression grew more and more pained as they miles wore on beneath them.          Charles eagerly promised to reunite Jerome with his student Garigan, and also to introduce him to his youngest son Ladero who was gifted with the Sondeck, in addition to his wife and four other children.  He described the home the Keep had made for them next to Long House, and expressed his earnest hope that Kimberly had moved his family there while he’d been gone.  But he also spoke of Glen Avery and its many charms and wonders.  Jerome listened patiently to his friend jump from topic to topic, but could not repress his own enthusiasm for the wonders his friend the rat descried.          The day after they passed through Komley a snow storm struck that delayed them a full day.  But the hostel and stables were warm and dry, and the only thing they could complain about was a temporary delay.  The following day they were on the road again.  They reached Midtown, the last major city before they passed under the shadow of the Curses of Metamor, by the end of the day.  Their wheels struggled against the new fallen snow where it was deepest, which seemed to be everywhere around Midtown.          But by the end of their day, they could all look to the north, the mouth of the Valley opening before them. The white peaks of the Great Barrier Range pressed down on them from the northeast, while the jagged but stately heights of the Dragon mountains brooded through snow fog in the west.  Although the night was upon them and they could see nothing, they all knew that to the north lay the spires of Metamor Keep.  One day more and they would be home.          Though they lay down with eyes shut, neither Charles nor any of the other Keepers were able to get any sleep.  Their long journey was finally coming to an end.  Charles, as he lay beneath his blankets, almost wished that it didn’t have to end.  He would miss rising in the morning to the faces of his friends.  But he yearned more to wake by the side of his wife, and that thought, and may others like it, kept him from sleep.          Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough for the Keepers. ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </div> -----Inline Attachment Follows----- <div class="plainMail">_______________________________________________ MKGuild mailing list <a ymailto="mailto:MKGuild@lists.integral.org" href="/mc/compose?to=MKGuild@lists.integral.org">MKGuild@lists.integral.org</a> <a href="http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild" target="_blank">http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild</a> </div></blockquote></td></tr></table> !DSPAM:4b9aa71397348154786014!