The feast went on, food was had,
many drinks were poured, and the encounter with Krek was forgotten. Annice
found herself smiling so much that her face began to stain and ache, and she never
wanted it to end. To be surrounded by
such personalities was fascinating, each fighter had a story to tell and
she was a rapt and attentive audience.
“Bloodclaw had me cornered, their
fangs dripping with a foul and poisonous ichor. “Elenra stated, one foot up on
the table, the other on their chair. The gathered audience, save Annice, had
heard this story what must have been a dozen times over, but they all listened,
never tired of a good story. “I was very nearly out of spells and my weapon had
already been snapped in half by the very jaws that saught to do the same to me.
A stub of a blade at best, but a stub was better than nothing.” They gestured wildly
into the air with one arm, mimicking a sword thrust. “So taking that stub I
readied myself and when the foul wyrm lurched forward I leapt into the ait and
plunged my broken blade into it’s eye!” The gasp of Annice was heard and a few
people chuckled in amusement, but Elenra continued on. “Its poisoned blood
splashed over my hands and face, the pain was immense. But the pain was the
least of my worries. The foul beasts poison numbed my hands and digits, and I
had a spell to cast before the creature turned.” Her hands now hung limp on at
their wrist in a display of uselessness, before clenching into fists. “I forced
my finger to work together o complete the somatic gestures, and as the
Bloodclaw turned to me I called out the Power Word and launched a bolt of
lightning into the hilt of my weapon, the blade still dug into the bastards
eye! Its body quaked and spasmed. And Bloodclaw the Wyvern was no more.” Elenra
smiled as the gathered applauded, hollars, and banged their goblets against the
table.
Once most of the food was eaten the
tables were largely abandoned, for eating at least. Half a dozen matches of arm
wrestling broke out, one game of Black Dragon Red Dragon, and as a resting
place for feet and elbows as a few entered into casual conversation. The main
attraction now was the dance floor and performers. Drunk gladiators hooted at
each other as they spun around the dance floor or hooted at the performers, who
were masters if only because they were able to preform their craft with such a
drunken rowdy crowd. Annice was still at the tables, having a conversation with
Kuran about the Cleansing War when a hand came into view, looking up she found
Wilhelm attached to that hand.
“You ain’t truly experienced a
Feast of champions if you haven’t danced. May I?” He had one arm tucked behind
his back, the other still extended, palm open.
“Oh I don’t know, no one needs to
see that. “ She started waving her hand, but Kuran bumped her with an elbow.
“Go, sister, enjoy yourself. We
will not laugh at you, too loudly at least.” Kuran smiled. “I will give you
more stories of glory later, the night is young!”
Annice shrugged and took Wilhelm’s
hand, being lead to the dance floor. She stood, awkwardly, before him giggling
at herself. He smiled and took her other hand, leading her into the dance. The
song was lively, with fast violins and lively flutes. Wilhelm and Annice spun
around the floor, rhythmically matched and laughing to themselves as they did. The
dance was fast, bouncing, and the two crashed into each other, grasping at each
others torso to stay on their feet more than one, and most importantly it was
fun. As the music came to a close the two panted, and held each other’s
shoulders to keep from collapsing, both tittering with giggles and laughter
like children. They stumbled slightly as they walked from the dance floor and
returned to their seats, Kuran softly clapping for them.
“Gods damn Annice you sure can
dance.” Wilhelm said, reaching for a goblet and pitcher to pour another drink.
“I don’t know about that, I felt
like I was mostly flailing about.” She responded, fanning herself and tugging
at the material of her robes, now clinging to her form.
“Very entertaining Wilhelm, when do
I get a dance?” Kuran asked, leaning over to the two. Wilhelm chuckled.
“Only if you lead.” He aid,
slouching deeper into his chair.
“Of course, I always lead.” She
grinned. Wilhelm waved his hand.
“Later, yer old pal Wilhelm’s gotta
find where his legs went off to first, yeah?”
“Mm, Wilhelm the Unyielding
indeed.” Kuran said. The half-orc turned and found herself staring at Elena.
“Actually, I was wondering if I
might have a dance with you, Kuran.” They said, the elf reaching out a hand. Kuran
raised her brow, but took the hand.
“No tricks this time.” She said,
standing. “I will be back for you Wilhelm, you are on my list. Wilhelm waved
and nodded.
This left Wilhelm and Annice alone
at the far end of the table. They watched the revelry for a few moments in
silence, but soon Wilhelm sat up, straightening himself.
“Any further thoughts on my offer?”
He asked, turning to the Hala-Elf.
“Many, but still undecided. I don’t
know, as far as I know it is not forbidden by my order, but it is not highly
looked upon. The High Priestess would never allow it.”
“You gotta do everythin your High
Priestess tells ya?” Wilhelm asked, genuinely curious,
“Well, as long as I’m a Novice
Cleric I do, once my Ceremony is complete I would be given the autonomy to do
as I please, as long as Syrene still smiles upon me.” Annice took a goblet and
poured a long drink, she was now thinking of how much trouble she was in.
“Whens yer ceremony then?” Wilhelm
asked, he tilted his head when she shrugged.
“When Syrene makes it known that I
am her chosen.” She pulled heavy from the goblet and turned to Wilhelm, noting
his confusion. “What?”
“Ain’t you already chosen? Kinda
figured that’s how it worked what with all the gifts of magic from the gods and
all.” The man leaned back in his chair.
“I mean, I was chosen by Syrene
when I came to join the church, and her influence guided me to the path of the
Cleric yes, but I am not yet a Chosen. A Chosen of Syrene is simply a
Cleric or a Paladin who is given the blessing by Syrene herself to enforce her
will and sped her message of peace.” Annice smiled. “She truly cares about us,
I’ve heard of other Clerics and Paladins who don’t have such a strong perosnal
connection with their Deity. Syrene is a smaller Goddess, not like Bal the Light
Bringer or Tess the Lady of Love. Syrene may have fewer followers, but she
wants us all to know she loves us. I’m afraid, though, I may be besmirching
that love with my action this day.”
“Ah phooey to that. If she was mad
at ya would she let ya heal me up right and good? “ Wilhelm asked, as if that
was some sort of revelatory statement,
“Healing you is one thing, Wilhelm,
Syrene would never let an innocent suffer to punish one of her faithful, but a
Cleric of Syrene becoming the Healer for a Gladiator? I don’t think it’s ever
been done.”
“No it has.” A voice came into the
conversation. Annice and Wilhelm both turned to stare at Elenra’s Cleric, the
faithful of Verkal. Dorn was his name, and he carried a plate of food,
obviously intent on seconds.
“Wait, what?” Annice sat up in her
chair, andleaned over Wilhelm to get closer to Dorn. “You’re saying there’s
another Faithful of Syrene who actas as the healer to a gladiator? And they are
a Chosen?”
“I mean, yeah?” Dorn said casually.
“Yeah they heal for, um, Rezzik Doomslayer. Fights in the eastern lands,
towards Vellah. Great healer.” Dorn paused. “Okay fighter. I mean Doomslayer?
Sheesh.”
This was news to Annice, who felt
that her actions were some clear violation of Syrene’s will. But if she allowed
for a Chosen to work for a Gladiator… ANnice let out a visable sigh of relief.
She wasn’t betraying her faith. Though thatdid not mean Nim would see it the
same way. She glanced at Wilhelm. You mentioned ‘on the road. ‘ What does that
mean?”
“Well,” Wilhelm started, “I don’t
exactly stay in the Sapphire Coast, much as I love the place. I like
participatin in Exhibitions just fine, but the pay ain’t exactly grand. Naw I
gotta keep myself mobile, travel all over for proper tournaments that pay out
to the winners.” He shiften in his chair as he spoke, turning to face her more
properly as he explained. “The most of us do it that way. It’s more profitable
and it keeps your name out there amongst the people, which is absolutely key in
this business.”
“I see, so we would be traveling
together.” Annice stated.
“Yep, most Tournaments require a
healer. Not too difficult to hire one from the local Healin House if you’re in
a city, but then not every place has got Clerics, and not everypace got
themselves healin houses. But it goes beyond that. It’s one thing to have
someone heal you after a fight, it’s another entirely to have someone who knows
how to heal you up right. A fighter and healer develop a bond, and there ain’t
no replacing that.”
“And… you want me, to fill that
role?” Annice’s cheeks flushed and she felt that it was all too hot suddenly.
The way he spoke of it, it seemed an honor.
“Well, yeah. Someone who puts
themselves on the line like you did… You say you ain’t breakin no rules, but
yer certainly gonna get hell if this all gets back to your Temple, that I know.
I want someone like that on my team, spots open if you want it.” Wilhelm smiled
softly, and it was all Annice could do not to shout yes that moment. Instead
she let out a breath.
“You make a stong argument Wilhelm.
I will have to say, however, that I am still unable to commit. When can I give
you my answer?”
“Well,” Wilhelm nodded, respecting
her answer. “I have that meetin with Mareen tomorrow morning, first thing I
said, so tellyou what. Half on the hour before sunrise, you meet me at the
Magistrate in the center of the city, you can give me your answer there. If you
don’t show, I’ll know your answer and it won’t be any hard feelings.”
“Okay Wilhelm, I will have your
answer by then.” She smiled to the man, it was a tempting offer she could not
deny that. Annice turned as Kuran approached.
“Wilhelm, you have had enough of a
break, stop being a lazy bum and dance with me!” She cried out, Elenra hanging
off her arm and laughing,
“Yeah yeah. Champions work is never
done.” Wilhelm stood and took Kuran’s hand and they both left for the dance
floor, leaving Elenra and Annice alone. The Elf looked at the Half-Elf, and offered
their hand. Annice smiled and took it, and they too went off to the dance
floor.
Annice stumbled onto the grounds of
the Temple, which sat at the tip of the northern most cresent of the Cove that
the city surrounded. She was groggy and more than a little out of sorts. She
had imbibed perhaps a little more drink than she should have, and putting one
foot in front of the other was a concerted effort. Wilhelm accompanied her,
insistent on making sure she arrived safely home. Though the act was kind, it
was somewhat moot as the man’s level of inebriation was not far from the
Half-Elven Cleric. They leaned into each other for support more often then not,
and as they approached the temple they could look inland and see the entire
city circling the cove. It was quite a sight.
“I love this view, I’m sure to miss
it.” Annice stated, “If I chose to join you, that is.” She was quick to add.
“The Sapphire Coloseum gives out some
of the best prize pots in the western realm, we’d be back plenty. Couldn’t
really resist this city myself though, almost home.” Wilhelm looked over the
city, he could see the towering Colosseum across the water, settled ay the
southern cusp of the crecent. “Now I’m sure you can make it the rest of the way
in and I’m sure you ain’t gonna get in any less trouble if they see me around,
so this is where I leave you, Annice.” He took her hand, gave it a little
squeeze, and kissed it. “A pleasure workin with you. You’re one of the most
skilled healers I ever been treated by.”
Annice smiled and nodded to him.
“It was a pleasure, Wilhelm. Thank you.” She wavered a bit, but found her footing
and headed for the temple.
The temple was a simple building,
but ornately beautiful. The land had been carefully tended to, swaying grass
and bushes framed a building covered with vines and budding flowers. The path
to the temple was cobbled stone covered in soft moss flanked on each side by
trees which all bore different fruits, she reached up and plucked a bundle of
berries from one of the branches, smiling as she popped them into her mouth.
The temples central chamber was an indoor pond, or more specifically a pond
that had been made to be indoors. The pond was a holy site for the followers of
Syrene, a body of water would not normally be found at the top of a cove, but
the Lady of the Grove had blessed this land, and in her wake left behind a glade
atop the rocky cliffs. Her followers tended this land, keeping the holy power
strong, and blessing every ship that set sail from the cove a peaceful and
tranquil journey. It was known as Syrene’s Gift.
Annice was in sorts that she had
completely forgotten she was even in trouble. She sat at the pond and looked up
through the open ceiling at the stars. While eating her berries she said a soft
prayer to Syrene, thanking her for the wonderful day she had experienced. She
was truly grateful to her Goddess’ blessing, and asked if she was doing
anything that went against Syrene’s will. Annice sat for a moment in silence,
when a brilliance from the pond drew her attention. There was always a shimmer
of holy light to the water, but this was different, a glow from the entire
pond. Annice’s eyes widened as the water started to ripple and churn… Her heart
raced, this was an ill omen. Annice stood, staring at the pond, and through the
roiling water thought she could see something. The berries dropped from her
hand, and she covered her mouth in shock. It was Wilhelm, she was sure of it.
The image was distorted and warped, but that had to be him. He was… He was
dead. Laying on the ground, blood tricking from nose and mouth. The visage was
gruesome in it’s depiction, the man’s face battered, and a gashing wound over
the man’s eye. Annice was in a panic.
Protect Him.
Annice spun, she heard the words,
but could not understand from where. Her brow furrowed and her hand found her
holy symbol. She shivered as she felt the metal was warm. Syrene. Syrene has
spoken to her? Wanted her to protect Wilhelm? Damn that drink, she couldn’t
think straight. Her mind reeled, and… the next thing she remembered was waking
up? Annice awoke in her bed, sitting upright in a start. She gasped and cried
out, and then realized where she was. Confusion filled her for a moment, was
that just a dream. She turned her head and saw Nim, sitting in a chair beside
the bed, a deep set frown on her face. Annice whimpered, and that is when the
hangover made itself known.
“Novice Qileth you are something, I
will tell you.” The older gnome woman stated sharply. “Not only do I find you attending
those fights, not only do you not come see me when you returned as I stated you
should, not only do the Initiates find you sleeping in front of Syrene’s Gift,
but now I’m hearing that you actually participated in that Tournement?”
She stood on the chair as Annice sat up with a groan to keep eyelevel. “Is that
all correct?”
“I fell asleep at the Gift?” Annice
asked, rubbing her head. “I don’t… I don’t remember doing that.”
“I imagine not.” Nim said
haughtily. “Had a bit of drink, did you?”
“Wine flows most free in a people
at peace.” Annice stared, and winced as the words finished in her mouth.
“Do not quote scripture to me,
child.” Nim stated, eyes narrowing. “You and I will speak, now.”
“Can I have some water first?” Annice’s
brow furrowed into one of discomfort. Her head was pounding and she had not yet
asked Syrene for her gifts of magic yet, and could not simply cure her own
hangover.
Nim tapped her foot, but she was
not a cruel woman. She nodded, and hopped off the chair. She walked to the end
table and took a glass and pitcher already set there and poured a crisp and
clean glass of water, handing it to the still dazed Annice. The Half-Elf took
the glass to their lips and drank deep, leaning their head back as she finished
the glass, extending the glass for another pour.
“Slowly child, you’ll make yourself
ill.” Nim said with greater kindness in her voice, pouring another glass.
Annice nodded and sipped at the
water this time. The coolness was agreeable and it was already waking her. She took
a breath, feeling not so much revitalized, but on the path to it at least. She
stood up and pulled at her underclothes, loosening the wraps and fetching fresh
robes from the chest at the foot of her bed.
“I’ll meet you in your chambers in
ten minutes, High Priestess, I promise.” She said, laying the robes on her bed,
and taking up a fresh washing cloth from where the chambermaid laid them out in
the mornings. “But first I’d like to wash up, if that is alright with you?”
Nim sighed, but nodded.
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