Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin. Soon, they must visit with the queen and tell her of the demise of their colleague.
Later, much later, I staggered up the stairs to the room that awaited me. Broo Fang Tane had already retired for the evening, but Seymuhr was still down in the main room, alternately singing in his hoarse voice and belching bubbles of ale. I paused, leaning against the doorway, for a moment tried to determine which was which--and which elicited more cheers from the sparse crowd. Soon, he would start in with his battle poems and that, more than my own exhaustion, drove me up the stairs to seek solace.
The room was small, but tidy. There was a solid-looking bed on the far wall and a chair at its foot. A small alcove held a large caldron of water over some dim coals. There was a tub beside it resting evenly on water-marked boards. I lit the lantern that hung on a hook by the door. Then I collapsed in the chair, my head spinning from the ale, and looked at the bed and then the tub, and then back again. I was woefully tired, but didn't think I'd be able to rest with my own stench in my nostrils. The tub it was, then.
The coals were dying, but the water was still lukewarm--warm enough to feel like a soft, heated blanket as I slipped my body into it. I laid back and let the water soak into and lift the grime from the forest and the road and the fight with the Hunen and the undead horde from my skin, then set about scrubbing my hide and hair. The water was gray and scummy by the time I had finished, a sort of stew made of grime and dead flesh, but still I dipped my clothes into it to rinse them as much as I could. They still smelled like a grave-filled swamp, but I felt a little cleaner and I no longer disgusted myself.
"A proper bath can change your outlook on the world," I muttered, although there was no one else to hear.
I laid down naked on the bed. Tomorrow there would be plenty to do, decisions to make and problems to solve. I could scarcely think of the first before sleep claimed me.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
A low and mighty sound
Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin. Soon, they must visit with the queen and tell her of the demise of their colleague.
Seymuhr woke with a start and an embarrassed expression on his face. After a moment's confusion, he dove into the scraps of food in front of him, slurping up the remainder of his spiderfat soup, crunching up what was left of his spider flank steak. then he turned his attention to the few spider legs he hadn't ingested before, biting off the ends and sucking the ichor from their crunchy shells.
I found his dining habits to be truly disgusting. When he finally had picked clean every carapace and soaked up every drop of spider goo, popped and chewed all the eyes, he brushed all the plates and bowls and platters to the floor with a single swipe of his thick arm and then, cradling his distended belly with both his hands, let out a belch so mighty, damp and rank that the pure volume of it stopped passersby in the street.
Mallyn, her nose hidden in the crook of her elbow, nevertheless let out a long, braying laugh as she refilled the flagons on a table where two farmers sat. One of them whistled appreciatively.
"If I could belch like that, I never would have left home," Mallyn called with a snorting laugh. She disappeared into the kitchen with a swirl of her skirts.
I didn't know what that meant and I was too busy furiously waving my hand in front of my face to ask her. I scowled at Seymuhr, who patted his belly and then lifted his cheek to tilt to the left.
"If you wanted to attract attention, you've done so," I snapped. "If you wanted to make me ill, you've done that as well! What manner of man makes a noise like that? Or a smell?"
He shrugged. "Not a hungry one." He flashed a smile that he probably thought was charming. "The wench seemed to like it."
"It didn't get her wet."
"You get....used to I..........t," Broo Fang Tane, his head still bowed, added.
"I hope not." I poked at my empty bowl, then set my spoon aside. The tavern was beginning to clear out, and I felt myself relax. Outside, night had fallen and the road was growing quiet. Mallyn dropped off three more flagons of beer, but only managed a quick smile. She blew an errant hair away from her face.
I took a long, slow drink and thought back on all that had happened to me--to us--within the past fortnight. I saw Merrick again gasping and fighting for breath, his face red and his eyes wild as his life left him. I smelled the gore of that horrid cavern in the mountains and I remembered his final words as his soul left him.
Tomorrow, I would see the queen and try to articulate all of that to her. What would she require of me, an old, sad woman? I couldn't even imagine writing the Tale of Merrick's End. And what would I do after that?
"What will you do now?" I asked Seymuhr. He had already finished his beer, somehow, and was holding the empty cup above his open mouth in hopes that another drop would somehow spill out. He jerked it, twice and Mallyn took note.
"Now?"
"Now that our companion has perished," I said. "Will you continue your work for the MOHPs*?"
Seymuhr shrugged. Tane looked up, and nodded.
"Haven't thought much about it," Seymuhr said. His eyes were distant.
"You must have some kind of ambition," I pressed him. My hair fell in front of my eyes and I brushed it aside. "Some land to travel to? A cause to fight for? A...woman?" I hesitated, perplexed at the sudden hitch in my voice. Why would that thought bother me so? I certainly had no designs on this brute...
"Well, I always did want to knock someone's teeth out through their arse," he said, his face brightening and, just like that, the bothersome feeling was gone.
I sat back and crossed my arms over my breasts. "Your mother would be proud."
"Do you really think so?" He leaned in, an eager expression on his face, and I shook my head--but I felt the beginning of a smile all the same. I still had plenty of ale, but I knew I would need even more.
Seymuhr woke with a start and an embarrassed expression on his face. After a moment's confusion, he dove into the scraps of food in front of him, slurping up the remainder of his spiderfat soup, crunching up what was left of his spider flank steak. then he turned his attention to the few spider legs he hadn't ingested before, biting off the ends and sucking the ichor from their crunchy shells.
I found his dining habits to be truly disgusting. When he finally had picked clean every carapace and soaked up every drop of spider goo, popped and chewed all the eyes, he brushed all the plates and bowls and platters to the floor with a single swipe of his thick arm and then, cradling his distended belly with both his hands, let out a belch so mighty, damp and rank that the pure volume of it stopped passersby in the street.
Mallyn, her nose hidden in the crook of her elbow, nevertheless let out a long, braying laugh as she refilled the flagons on a table where two farmers sat. One of them whistled appreciatively.
"If I could belch like that, I never would have left home," Mallyn called with a snorting laugh. She disappeared into the kitchen with a swirl of her skirts.
I didn't know what that meant and I was too busy furiously waving my hand in front of my face to ask her. I scowled at Seymuhr, who patted his belly and then lifted his cheek to tilt to the left.
"If you wanted to attract attention, you've done so," I snapped. "If you wanted to make me ill, you've done that as well! What manner of man makes a noise like that? Or a smell?"
He shrugged. "Not a hungry one." He flashed a smile that he probably thought was charming. "The wench seemed to like it."
"It didn't get her wet."
"You get....used to I..........t," Broo Fang Tane, his head still bowed, added.
"I hope not." I poked at my empty bowl, then set my spoon aside. The tavern was beginning to clear out, and I felt myself relax. Outside, night had fallen and the road was growing quiet. Mallyn dropped off three more flagons of beer, but only managed a quick smile. She blew an errant hair away from her face.
I took a long, slow drink and thought back on all that had happened to me--to us--within the past fortnight. I saw Merrick again gasping and fighting for breath, his face red and his eyes wild as his life left him. I smelled the gore of that horrid cavern in the mountains and I remembered his final words as his soul left him.
Tomorrow, I would see the queen and try to articulate all of that to her. What would she require of me, an old, sad woman? I couldn't even imagine writing the Tale of Merrick's End. And what would I do after that?
"What will you do now?" I asked Seymuhr. He had already finished his beer, somehow, and was holding the empty cup above his open mouth in hopes that another drop would somehow spill out. He jerked it, twice and Mallyn took note.
"Now?"
"Now that our companion has perished," I said. "Will you continue your work for the MOHPs*?"
Seymuhr shrugged. Tane looked up, and nodded.
"Haven't thought much about it," Seymuhr said. His eyes were distant.
"You must have some kind of ambition," I pressed him. My hair fell in front of my eyes and I brushed it aside. "Some land to travel to? A cause to fight for? A...woman?" I hesitated, perplexed at the sudden hitch in my voice. Why would that thought bother me so? I certainly had no designs on this brute...
"Well, I always did want to knock someone's teeth out through their arse," he said, his face brightening and, just like that, the bothersome feeling was gone.
I sat back and crossed my arms over my breasts. "Your mother would be proud."
"Do you really think so?" He leaned in, an eager expression on his face, and I shook my head--but I felt the beginning of a smile all the same. I still had plenty of ale, but I knew I would need even more.
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