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Fantasy Novel: Scott Fellar, a magical story.

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
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INTRO for the forums:
Hey there. inspiration. Some take inspiration to write or sing a song, some to build amazing things with lego, or on minecraft. Some take it for drawing, others for making 3d statues. However you may choose to use it... it HAS to come out. One way or the other. I find inspiration from the stories other people write, is very strongly connected to other things in life as well. I get similar inspiration from watching movies, or from listening to a song. I've read a lot of character profiles, met quite some characters too, and I found inspiration from them. They are all living their lives. It's like their all the main character of different books. Each character, controlled by a human behind his/her computer, filling the pages of an unwritten book...

I know I've started something similar before and couldn't complete it. Or the inspiration stopped and so did the writing. But I'm going to try it again and hope it will work out. In this thread, I will post drafts of a book I'm writing.

Please do not comment on this thread. You are encouraged to leave 'hearts' and 'thumbs' if you enjoyed reading. or leave a 'thumbs down' or 'disagree' if there was something wrong with what I've written. When you do so, please comment in a thread I will make to explain it, and I will see to it that this book I will create will become a quality one.

I once written a book of 73 A4 pages, about a boy going to a fantasy island and finding himself in the end as the key figure in a huge battle with all sorts of magical creatures. I know what I did good in that book, and I know what I could have done better (most of it I could have done better). Nevertheless, the 73 pages still stand, along with 8 images. I hope this book will become better than the last one. I will not go for quantity, but for quality. Though you will notice I will write some things quite elaborately. This will be, because I like to do it by this motto my father once told me: "Writing is crossing out." Write, write and write some more, and then dare to delete over half of it, because it's not 'perfect enough'.

Do remember, this is a draft. The introduction and ending will be re-written once the book is done. Which might take a year or 2. Also I will have need of a "grammar-nazi" to correct as many mistakes as possible (I will write much better than my average post, mind you).

You can follow this 'book', by clicking on "Follow thread". I've posted another thread where you can leave your comments and feedback: http://hollowworld.co.uk/threads/scott-fellar-comment-section.30825/

<if you find the letters are to small: [Ctrl] - [scroll up] to zoom in.>
 
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Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
Paragraph 1.1


Scott was having a walk through Sonaris. He was feeling good. Now that he turned 16, his parents finally agreed this morning and allowed him to move out of the house. But the world was small for Scott. He had never been further away from his parents home than the large church, up north, down the battered road. His father was in service of the town's blacksmith, so he didn't hear that many stories of faraway lands either. Furthermore, he was a blacksmith's son, so that sort of set his future for the rest of his working-life. If he was to leave the his parents' house, he would still stay in Sonaris. So now he was walking through the streets, keeping an eye out for vacant houses. In his mind he thought about the possibilities. He could pick a spot close to the bank, so that whenever his father required him to bring the earnings of the day to the bank, he wouldn't have to take a detour. But the houses near the bank were way too expensive, so he walked on. There he passed the auction house, but it looked like it wasn't opening ever since it closed a few weeks ago. Living near it wouldn't provide much else than the shouts of people offering money for what was on the auction, if it ever reopened at all. Passing the auction house, the noise of voices yelling to sell their wares filled the air. Scott had reached the market district. There, many people from all over the region flocked to the square to sell and buy. Every day it was the same, yet every day they came back to do it all over again. Scott smiled to himself, as he thought of how ridiculous they looked if one would think of them in this way. "Silly..." He grinned to himself while passing the mob of people, all so eager to check out what others were showing them. He managed to push himself through them and quickly took a turn to the left, when he noticed he was approaching the grand library. "Definitely not." He said to himself. He knew how to read alright, that was necessary for doing the finances of the blacksmith, but he never really liked to. All these words about agreements of payment or debts, they were so boring, he thought. He looked at the facade of one of the houses near the market. The door opened and a man, dressed in fine silk clothes, stepped out. He sighed. He knew he could have guessed, these houses near the market were way too expensive as well. While making a turn around the large houses, he smelled the flowers in their gardens. He looked over the fence and saw them blooming richly. He fantasized about where this flowers might have came from, enjoying the thoughts of distant, different, mysterious lands. He reached the center of the town again, which in itself was a giant waypoint. His father always told him they were magical things, called lodestones. But Scott never really understood them. He was told that this place in Sonaris was connected to many others all over Aethius and that one could travel from one to the other in a blink of an eye, instead of having to ride a horse all the way across the lands. Ignorant of its mechanics, he often walked over it to quickly pass from one side of the city to the other, but never did he find himself suddenly appearing somewhere else. He didn't know how it worked, although he really wanted to know. Once more, his fantasies pushed his mind in the direction of odd lands, far beyond the borders of the forest of Sonaris.


He was still daydreaming as he passed by the general store. "Oi laddie! Oi Scott, mate!" He heard someone call him. He woke up from his fantasies and saw the store owner was already halfway down the stairs, the door of the store still open behind him. "Wha' are ye daydreamin' or semthin'? Ye got more important thin's to worry 'bout!" Scott at first didn't know what he was talking about, but then he realised. His father broke the rope of the bellow from the furnace this morning and asked Scott to buy one today. Apparently the store owner knew this, as he hold out his hand, holding a rope. "Yer a dreamer, Scott. Snap out o' it, yer a blacksmith's son." He said, with a kind undertone, though he looked serious. Scott grabbed some Arunes and handed it to him. "Thanks alot..." He said sarcastically. "Ya, ya, it's alright." The store-owner said as he waved the words away and retreated to the door. With the rope in his hands, Scott walked on. His father's blacksmith was quite close. The black smoke rose from the chimney and the hot furnaces shone orange light on the weathered faces of the workers. One of them was Scott's father and with the rope held tightly he approached him. "Father, I've brought you what you asked for." His father gave a few more hard hits with his hammer on a red-hot glowing piece of steel and then looked up. "Ah my son!" He smiled kindly, his voice rough and deep. "You're one of a kind." His father complimented him as he took the rope from Scott. His father was a big man. Not very tall, but wide and muscular. Scott could fit in him twice, or maybe even thrice. His face was black from the ash and smoke that had stuck to his sweat. He had wrinkles at the side of his eyes from the many times he laughed and he short hair including a short beard and mustache, all black, turning grey. "Well, I could have been faster and brought it earlier, but you know-" Scott started, but his dad laughed a loud thundering laugh through his words. "No need to excuse yourself, my boy. You must be excited about your new home and I know you're a dreamer! I'm surprised you even thought of the rope at all." He smiled at him, his eyes twinkling in the orange light. Scott's cheeks started to turn red of embarrassment, thinking how he would have forgotten it if it wasn't for the store keeper. "Did you find anything you like, yet?" His father asked him. "No. Most are too expensive, or I don't like them." Scott looked to the ground, seeing the black pieces of coal and dirt in between the cobbled floor. "Well, I told you that the library had a spot vacant, but you seem to have different plans." His father said kindly, dropping his work to engage in the conversation. His father always supported him, even if he didn't understand Scott. "I- Well- I've got my reasons." "I know, son." He said kindly, picking his work up again. "Tell your mother I'll be late tonight, we got a whole new order we need to finish today." He said to Scott, and pushed the steel back into the blazing hot furnace. Scott nodded and continued on his way.


Scott went over to the harbor, and passed the tavern on his way there. "The Drunken Daughter." He said out loud as he smiled at the building. He could hear the sailors having fun inside, enjoying a well cooked meal and plenty of ale. "But of course!" He slapped his head for not thinking about it before and quickly made his way in. "Well, hello there, Scott. Good to see you, what can I do for you today?" The bartender asked him. Scott smiled at him. It was a good friend of his father. "I'd like an ale as we discuss the vacant rooms you've got here." The bartender's eyebrows rose. Nevertheless, he calmly grabbed a mug and filled it up with the most common ale. He set it down on the counter and grabbed the Arunes Scott had put there. "Vacant rooms, eh?" Scott took a sip and nodded. "My parents are finally letting me out of the house. I've walked all over Sonaris today, but couldn't find an accommodation that fit me. Most of them are too expensive, while others are almost falling apart. Then I stood before your bar and thought: Of course!" The bartender laughed a bit. "Alright, listen up. I've got several beds spare in the bunks and one single room spare, down the hall." The bartender then waved to a girl and told her to manage the bar in his absence. They both went upstairs to view the rooms. The bunks were tight spaces with many beds in them, serving as a place for the poorest to sleep. Scott liked a little bit of company, but he valued privacy more. As the bartender opened the door to the single room, Scott felt right at home. "This is wonderful!" he said as he looked around the small room. It had a window with a view on the fountain below and the forest beyond. It included a bed, a small table and two chests to store his clothes and belongings. Being able to read had its advantages. In the blacksmith he had earned enough to pay the rent for this room for at least several months. Scott grinned to himself. "I'll take it, mister! This is ideal." The bartender nodded and they arranged the required paperwork. After that, Scott returned to the room and laid down on the bed. He heard the seagulls call, the water of the fountain, the sailors downstairs brawling. He sat up and through the window he could see the sailors outside lifting heavy crates.


That night he slept at his parents' house for the last time. His mother still seemed dissatisfied with the fact that he was leaving to live on his own. "You better be careful you don't let drunkards enter your room while you're sleeping, son." She warned him, after he told his parents where he was going to stay. "Dear, dear. He's old enough to take care of things like that." His father replied. "Oh really? Then explain to me why he forgot to tell me you'd be coming home late tonight?" She said, and both of his parents turned their head towards Scott. His father looking surprised, his mother annoyed. Scott remained silent, looking at them with a faint embarrassed smile, shrugging. "You see? I rest my case." His mother said and started removing his father's plate from the table. His father winked at him and messed up his hair. "I was just like you, son. When I was your age. Don't you worry." Scott sighed and looked how his mother set a mug of ale in front of his father. Scott didn't like to be treated like a young boy. He knew he could take care of himself. Of course, he would forget some things sometimes. He knew himself by now, always fantasizing, thinking of other things than the things that happened around him. His mind wandered off again, he was thinking about his new home and which things he wanted to pack to bring there tomorrow. "Father, can I take a day off tomorrow? I have to bring my chest with my things to my new home." His father looked at him, tired from the day's work. "That's fine, I guess." That was his father's way of saying; I would prefer if you'd work with me, but you have your own life now. Scott understood his hidden meaning, but was too eager to start moving in his new home. "Son, are you sure you want to do this?" His mother asked him again. She's been asking this question ever since they agreed to it. Once again Scott told her all his reasons. "Yes, I want to become an independent man. I want to get to know new people and besides, all of my friends are living by themselves too." His mother sighed and looked down. She nodded and said goodnight, after which she left to go to bed. It was silent. His father drank his ale and Scott sat with his hands folded in his lap. After a while his father got up and left as well. "Yup, I'm going to sleep too. Know that you're always welcome to stay over for a night, son. Your mom is sad now, but she'll come around. She'll learn how to let you go, believe me." He said and smiled at him before turning around. Scott sat alone in the living room now, the candle in front of him on the table almost faded. The hearth behind him was still warm and the crackling very much alive. He turned his chair around to sit in front of the fire. The warmth felt cozy, he felt at home and fell asleep. It was a comfort he was deliberately going to leave.


Scott woke up with the sun already peeking through the split between the curtains. The fire was reduced to grey ashes and the room looked a bit pale in this faint bit of light. He tried to get up from his chair. When he straightened his neck, a pain rushed into his muscle. Sore from sleeping on the chair, he stood in the living room and straightened his back, still holding his painful neck. He learned his lesson, not to sleep in a chair anymore. Scott rubbed his face to clear away the sleep. "Your father already left for work." Scott shot up. "You startled me, mom." She stood in the doorway. "He said you shouldn't feel bad for not lending a hand at the blacksmith." She comforted him. This was a relief to Scott. "Your breakfast is in the kitchen. I'm going to the market to get some groceries, son. Good luck today with moving in to your new home." She kissed him on his forehead, grabbed her coat and basket and left the house. Scott felt satisfied, knowing his mother supported him after all. He understood she must feel bad about it all, but he thought to himself he wasn't leaving for good. Besides, he would still live in the same neighborhood of the same town. After finishing his breakfast he went up to his room on the attic. There he said goodbye to the safe haven of his youth. He opened his chests wherein, neatly folded, his clothes lay. Then he went to the single window in his room. It was rectangular, twice as high as it was wide. At the bottom stood a clay pot with in it a small Venus flytrap plant. It had five small mouths, one of them was closed. He gazed out of the window to the familiar view, overlooking the waypoint of Sonaris. The place he had fantasized about so much, where mysterious people disappeared, to appear in an entirely different city again. He pulled himself away from it and approached one of the angled walls that formed the roof of the house. There hang a painting of a scene of nature. At the bottom it said "Dylamere" together with a signature of someone he didn't know. He got it from his grandmother when he was very young. She understood his dreams of faraway lands very well. It was probably her blood that caused it all, for she travelled a lot when she was young. Even now, Scott had no idea where she was. All he knew she was exploring the world still, never staying too long at one place. He took the painting off the wall and put it in his trunk. On top he put as many clothes as would fit. He knew he would have to walk back and forth several times in order to bring all his belongings to the tavern. He would bring his small dagger from the blacksmith later. The one his father made it for him on his fourteenth birthday. Just like his long leather coat, he would bring it the next time.
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
Paragraph 1.2


Scott looked at the mess. Everything he had brought this morning to his new home and it was all piled up to a mountain on top of his bed. With his hands on his thighs he looked at it, smiling. "I'm home alright." He said to himself. Then he looked around, thinking what to put in which chest, since there were two. He figured it be good to leave his items in the chest at the window and his clothes in the chest closer to his bed. After making this decision, he grabbed his notebook and pencils to put into the chest close to the room. He removed the lock and opened it to put his items in. After this his leather jacket followed, as well as the dagger, some liquor, a few matches, some cookies from his mom, a belt he got from his dad and the painting. Before closing the chest, he changed his mind and decided to put the painting up on the wall. He inspected the walls thoroughly for the first time, to find nails to hang the painting from. Only now he noticed the wall was full of them. Some bend up, some bend down, some sticking out far, others entirely hit inside the wood. He shook his head. "Is it that hard to just hang stuff on other people's nails?" He thought to himself and hung it on one in the middle of the wall. It hang a bit weird, cause of all the nails behind the painting, but it hung nonetheless. That done, the thing that remained was quite a challenge. The clothes weren't neatly folded anymore, like at his parents' place. They lay all over the bed, some had even fallen on the floor. Scott decided this wouldn't be something he'd worry about and just grabbed the entire pile with his arms and opened the chest with his knee. He would throw the pile of clothes right in there, if it wasn't for the fact he just remembered how dusty the other chest was. He put the pile of clothes back and went to clean the chest, when suddenly his eye fell on a small item of sorts. He looked at it and knelt down at the chest. His shadow over the chest made the inside barely visible, so he made some space to let the light of day from the window show what was inside this chest. It shone brightly in the daylight. He reached out for it, it was cold to the touch and there was some sort of string attached to it. He frowned and retrieved his arm from the chest. The piece of string protruded from his closed fist in which he kept the item. The string seemed to be woven tightly and looked fair to the eye. He slowly opened his fist. His fingers moved out of the way for his eyes to see what the last owner of the room had forgotten to take with him. Or rather, to take with her. For in his hand he found a fairly decorated medallion. It was made of very fine crafted gold and shone brightly in the light of day. The gold decorations circled in pretty tiny leaves and flowers around a small blue gem at the backside. He turned it around and saw the front had holes in it, designed like bars of a jail. Behind these bars, something rested inside the medallion. Scott tried to open the tiny door of the medallion, but it didn't quite work. He tried to force his nail in between the two sides, but it wouldn't budge. Again he peeked through the bars, wondering what it was that lay inside this feminine medallion. Again he inspected the superb craftsmanship of this tiny medallion, so well made, with the small leaves and flowers. He now noticed fruits as well, hanging from below the gem. Surely this must be made by the Dwarves, he thought from himself with a rush of excitement. Or it belonged to a fair elf from the forests of the Spirit Tree. He jumped up with adrenaline running through his veins. He was aroused by his find and couldn't help but think of all possibilities and stories that could be attached to this mysterious item. Even though it looked so feminine, he wanted to wear it nonetheless. Slowly he opened the string and hung the medallion from his neck. Because he did feel a bit ashamed, he hid it in behind his shirt. The gold felt cold to his chest at first, but warmed up by his body-warmth. He then quickly removed the dust from the chest and dumped his clothes in, not bothered by wrinkles that might be formed. He shut the chest, leaving some sleeves of his shirts over the edge, stuck in between the lid. Who was this former renter of this room? What secrets did she have? Why would someone who could own an object of such impeccable beauty and value rent a dusty old room like this? A dozen or more questions filled his mind. Though he knew he wouldn't be able to answer them, he loved making them up.


Scott was laying on his bed, still admiring the medallion. Noise began to appear from below and Scott quickly ran to the window. Seeing the place the sun was shining in the sky, he knew it would be around dinner time by now. Guests of the tavern began to flow in and filled the room downstairs with chatter and laughter. He hid the medallion behind his shirt and walked out of his room, locking it behind him. Then he went down to join the people downstairs. "Ah, our renter." Said the girl at the bar. Scott looked around. "You're looking for Boris." She told Scott. He nodded. "He's cooking. He is way too busy now, serving all these people. Can I help you, though?" She smiled at him. It looked a bit odd, though. As if she wanted to smile a bit too much. "I guess. What have you got to eat this evening?" Scott asked while he looked around. But the girl tried very hard to catch his eyes. "We've got stew of beans, potato, carrot and if you're lucky you might find some piece of chicken in there as well." She said, still smiling. "Well then! Let's hope I'm lucky." Scott looked at her now, smiling back a bit. He took a seat at the bar. "Will do." She replied and hopped off to the kitchen, happily. Scott saw Boris the bartender was serving some people, after which he walked passed Scott onto the kitchen. "She didn't lie." Scott thought to himself. "He really is busy." He grinned and turned his back to the bar, looking at the people enjoying their meals. He recognized some from his work at the blacksmith. Some who came to buy things, others who worked together with him. "Scott me man, cem 'ere." His colleague shouted as his eyes meet Scott's. "Derrick!" Scott laughed and walked up to him with his eyes wide. Behind Scott the barmaid looked a bit disappointed to find that Scott found other company. "Derrick, tell me about today." Derrick began to grin. "I was working, alright. And I tell ya, I was working the bellows harder than any day before. The smith could hardly keep up with me." They laughed. "But it gets better. A wizard visited today." Scott's mouth opened wide with amazement and he smiled. "You've got to be kidding me." Derrick shook his head. "No, me man. Here I was working the bellows till my arms got off, when he walked into the blacksmith. He had a word with your father, after which your father had a word with the bossman, after which bossy got us all together." Scott was listening intensely to this unexpected turn of events. He bent over the table to hear every word Derrick said "Aye, when the wizard left, we stopped working and started listening, alright. Bossman said to us: We've got work to do. He started drawing some armor for a horse, I believe. It was a bit odd though, but it could fit a horse, I guess." Derrick looked Scott in the eyes. Scott nodded and sat back. "Un-bloody-believable, Derrick. A wizard! Of all days, I choose to skip work on the day a wizard arrives!" He laughed, but Derrick looked serious. "Don't you get your hopes up, me man. Wizards are dangerous folk. I wouldn't give up me soup for to get a chance to hang around with one of them magicians." Derrick shook his head in a skeptical way and broke a piece off of his bread after which he tucked it into his stew and put it in his mouth. Scott just sat there, smiling. "I bet that wizard will return to pick up his order, eh?" Scott asked, but he already knew the answer and Derrick chose not to answer.


"Your stew." Scott heard a girl's voice tell him and saw his plate appear in front of him. He looked up into the eyes of the barmaid. "Kim." She said. "I'm called Kim, what's your name?" "It's Scott. Pleased to meet you, Kim." He replied confused. "Likewise, Scott." Kim bowed her head a bit with a smile and ran off back behind the bar. "This girl must like ye, me man. Haven't seen her serving anyone else's food tonight." Derrick said, pointing at her with a piece of bread in his hand, elbow on the table. Scott turned around on his chair, noticing Kim was still staring at him. He quickly turned back and started eating the stew. "Jolly good." He replied with a completely neutral voice. Bend over his plate, Scott was making sure none of the stew spilled. Stew was his favorite dish. Being a simple meal, it was most of what one could make of the food they could afford with the money his class owned. He pricked some in his stew and found an entire chicken leg, very well cooked, inside his plate. "Bloody lucky boy ye are, me man." Derrick said loudly. Then his face turned a bit annoyed, and with a jealous tone he said. "It's the barmaid, by Domm! The bloody barmaid bringing you this dish full of chicken, yer not lucky at all!" He stood up angrily. Scott just looked up at him. But Derrick hit his fist on the table. While doing so, he accidentally hit his plate and it shot up like a catapult, shooting pieces of sauce dripping carrot to the table next to them. The carrots hit the other guests, which were the sons of the carpenter of Sonaris. Derrick looked at them, then back at Scott, a bit scared. But Scott grinned and said to him, calmly: "I've got your back." He shoved his dish into safety, while the brothers carpenter stood up from their seat to pay Derrick back what he gave them. One of the boys gave a great big punch on Derricks face, making Derrick fall back into his chair. The other boy couldn't approach before Scott tackled him down on the floor, shooting out of his chair like a tiger. The other guests of the tavern got up from their seats, some even standing on it, to get a glimpse of the fight. They yelled and laughed. Derrick managed to get back up from his chair and punched the son of the carpenter back, straight on his cheek. This made him, in turn, fall back onto his chair. While Scott struggled to keep a hold of the brother, a fiddler came into the tavern and jumped on a table. Above all the yelling and shouts, he started playing the most happy melody the walls of this tavern had ever heard. Scott looked at Derrick's face, blood dripping from his nose, but he was smiling. Scott laughed and let go of the brother he was holding down. This boy ran towards Derrick, but Derrick grabbed his coat and launched him on top of his brother. The guests all laughed and stood around Scott and Derrick. Shaking their hands and telling them how much they enjoyed the fight. When everyone returned to their usual business and the sons of the carpenter got back on their chairs to continue their meals, the fiddler got off the table as well. He stood in a corner, still fiddling. Derrick got two mugs of ale and returned to their table. While Scott finished his stew, the carpenter sons went to the fiddler to request a song. And there, before Derrick finished his last sip of ale, they sang an entire song.


"For all the jolly fellows, that ever set foot in town.
Let them go to the bellows, and see the ugly frown
of the blacksmiths and their subjects!


They work till they grow bald, but never shall they make
furniture in great halls, let them learn it for Vassas' sake.
oh the blacksmiths and their subjects!"



A great deal of laughter roared through the tavern, as the drunkards belched with joy at the comic song the songs of the carpenters just sang as a payback for the lost fight. Derrick couldn't laugh much, but Scott managed to see the fun in it. "Come on, Derrick. This is a challenge! The want us to sing one back to them!" He said happily. He looked at the grumpy Derrick, who stood up to sing anyway. They went to the fiddler and requested a song for themselves. "Alright, boys. Now it's our turn!"


"Who is stronger, blacksmith or carpenter?
Well... you might not now, but I am sure!
Have you ever heard their weak hammer blow?
I sure as day have never, but I think it's quite a show
to see them sweat over a tiny nail, as if it's harder than to fly!
but we blacksmith-sons smash iron hard and smash it with Domm's might.
Look at these muscles, then at theirs, now you can decide!"



Again the tavern shook with laughter and the sound of stamping feet and clapping hands. This night was surely quite enjoyable, not only for Scott, but for everyone. In the end, when the fiddler stopped playing, the carpenter sons and the blacksmith sons shook each other's hands and said good night. Scott looked back just before he went up to his room, to see the barmaid wasn't paying much attention at him anymore. She was mopping the floor while Boris was cleaning the bar. He then walked up the stairs. It was a bit of a challenge after all these ales, but he managed to land on his bed before his feet gave out. When he closed his eyes, he felt amazing. "It was a good choice, to move here." He said to himself and he thought of the mysterious wizard at the blacksmith, while he hold the medallion firmly in his hand. He fell asleep.
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
Paragraph 1.3

The sun shone brightly again, this early morning. Scott woke up with a headache from the ale and a sore arm from the tackle he performed last night. He put on his working clothes and shoes and opened the door from its lock. He rubbed his face a bit and combed his hair with his fingers. He stumbled down the staircase. The tavern smelled quite okay, considering the activities of last night. But then again, the bartenders already started cleaning right after closing. Scott went out and breathed the salty air of the harbor. It was a shock to his stomach and he needed some time to recover from the nausea. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood back up straight. He headed for the blacksmith, but on his way he took the time to grab an apple from the edge of one of the gardens of the rich folk. Once he arrived at the blacksmith, he put on his apron and went to his father's furnace. His father looked at him in a worried manner. "I see you enjoyed yourselves last night?" He said and gestured to Derrick. Scott looked at his friend, whose cheek got swollen quite a bit since last night. Scott nodded. "Yes, it was fun. You know how the carpenters are sometimes." He replied, but his father was not amused. "Rick is a good friend. I am not eager for him to come asking for an explanation of what happened to his sons." He said with a serious tone. Scott looked down, showing regret. His father noticed it. "Ah well, don't feel too sad. I've had the same talks with my own father. Let's start heating up that pit and start forging. Lots of work to do, this week." They started placing the coal and lit it on fire, after which Scott worked the bellows. "What are we making today, father?" He asked. "Armor, and plenty of it." So it was true, what Derrick had told him. "Horse armor, right?" Scott questioned. His father looked up. "I guess Derrick couldn't keep it to himself, eh? Yes, also horse armor, but that's not most of the work." "What is most of the work, then?" Scott asked eagerly. "We have to forge a man's armor, existing of a whole bunch f small parts. It will take days to fit it all together!" Scott wondered why someone would want such a fragile piece of armor, but then it dawned to him. "He's going to enchant it." He said softly to himself in amazement. "What's that you're saying, son? Don't you dare think of meddling in magicians' business. It's dangerous folk as it is already, even without talking to them." Scott nodded, but in his mind he shook his head. This was perhaps his only opportunity to find out more about the lodestone in Sonaris center. They worked the day through, stopping only for a quick lunch. In the end, Scott's father looked satisfied. "That's one shoulder to fingertips done. Since the other smiths are doing well too, we might just make it in time, before the client returns." Good, Scott thought, the sooner he's here, the sooner he'll pay. Since I'm doing the finances, the sooner I get to talk to him. They took off their aprons, gave each other a hug, and then parted, each to his own home. On his way back to the tavern, Scott noticed some carvings in a piece of brick above a trapdoor next to someone's house. It said "A.L. entrance." He shook his head, wondering what it could mean, but didn't pay much attention to it and went on towards the tavern.


"Your weakest ale, please." Scott said, as he sat down, tired, in front of the bar. Kim smiled as she looked at him. But it was a different smile than before. Now it was a smile of "You should've known better." Nevertheless, she went to get him his drink. "So, you've recovered from last night, then?" She giggled. Scott mumbled something in return, affirming her question. "Hm, still, you look a bit tired." SHe added, a bit confused. "Aye, I've been working the bellows all day at my father's furnace." This seemed to interest Kim a lot. She asked further on the topic of the blacksmith. Scott enjoyed this sudden interest in him and was impressed by the charming way she showed it. After a while, Kim was told to do some dishes and she parted, but not before winking at Scott. "Definitely a good choice for a home." He thought to himself and took his ale to one of the more comfortable chairs at a table. He sat down and made himself at home. To his right hung six maps of cities and other places. He looked at them intrigued. One of them appeared to display a city in a desert. Scott had heard of it before, it was one of the town closest to Sonaris, called Lauka. Another showed a part of Sonaris, where the tavern was situated near the harbor. The other four he didn't recognize and he inspected them a little closer. One of them was called "Spirethorn" and it looked as some kind of fortress. It seemed it was located in some mountains, but it was hard to make out from just a drawn top-view of the city. The other was called "Ulntroth" and seemed to be a port-city, just like Sonaris. It seemed to Scott there was also a docking station for airships on the map, but again it was hard to clearly make it out. Another map was called "Ancient Bluff" and showed a very anthropogenic structure. It looked almost mathematical and here, too, was a docking station for airships, as well as a harbor. Then, the last one, was completely different. Mysteriously it was called "Dave's blank map" and showed a snowy island in a sea of blue. The island appeared hilly and there seemed to be a structure on it. Scott wondered why the bartenders would keep such maps on their walls. He asked Boris about it, but he couldn't give any other explanation than that these maps were given to them by several different people and that he just liked the way they looked. While Scott was spending time looking at the maps, the guests for the dinner flowed into the tavern again.


Some of the guest were already drunk from before entering the tavern and made plenty of noise, even before the tavern was a quarter full. Scott sat still at his table and had a plate already served. "Beans and potato's, today?" An old man said, as he sat down in front of Scott. "It seems so." Scott grinned politely. "I guess we can't have meat every day." The old man replied with a disappointed frown, as he stared at Scott's plate. More people joined the table; a family consisting of a man, a woman and three young children, including one baby. The two other kids were a bit older and were playing tag in the crowd of people in the tavern. The couple didn't pay much attention to each other. The woman was mostly occupied with her baby and keeping an eye on her children, while the man didn't stray from looking at his food, which he was eating. The old man started a monologue about the quality of the food in the tavern from the time when he was young until now, directing it to the man. The man just nodded every now and then or made a confirming sound, pretending he was listening. It was very noisy with all these people talking to each other and yelling when they saw someone familiar enter. Everyone was only focused on themselves and their friends. It was so busy and noisy, that you wouldn't notice the quiet trio sitting in a corner of the tavern. It was by mere chance that Scott noticed them, when his eyes accidentally met those of a shady woman in the corner.


All three were wearing clothes with certain similarities, but their postures were very different. The woman who Scott had looked into her eyes looked pretty normal, safe her shady facial expression and clothing. The other two had their backs towards Scott. During the evening Scott casually moved his eyes over their location, so that the woman wouldn't notice he was trying to find out more about these three strangers. Truly, nobody else seemed to notice them or they just didn't care. One of the two with their back towards Scott sat very straight, almost elegant, and seemed rather tall. The hood of this person pricked a bit to the sides around the ears. The other, sitting besides this person, had a rather fat posture. It was a small person, but wide. The only times Scott could hear anything of what they said to each other, was when the small one was talking. His voice was deep and raspy. His beard, visible from the sides of the hood he wore, moved as he talked. This evening there was no fiddler, piper, or lute player. Slowly, as they finished their plates and emptied their mugs, the casual folk went homewards again. The family in front of Scott as well. The old man, under the impression he found someone that would actually listen to what he had to say, left with the family, still continuing his monologue to the man. As the evening grew older, the people who had to work early the next day, like the fishermen, the hunters, and the brewers, went home too. A few drunkards lagged behind, most of them smart enough to leave in time. The left-over drunkards were kicked out, as the bartenders were done with their loudness and awful presence. In the end, it was just Scott and the silent figures, who made sure they could stay by keep ordering expensive drinks and food. Scott didn't want them to become suspicious of him, so he went over to the bar, pretending he was just drinking his time away. When he looked back over his shoulder at them, he was stared back at by six eyes. All three of them noticing his awkward presence, which could have no other reason than the one of a curious nosy boy wanting to know more. Scott quickly looked back, his heart was beating in his throat. "It's not three normal people!" He thought to himself. "It's a Dwarf and an Elf as well!" His adrenaline rushed through his body. He tried to calm himself by having a sip of ale. He sat at the bar, forcing himself to look straight into his mug, hoping they wouldn't pay any more attention to him, but it became awfully silent. Scott was always excited when he saw an Elf or Dwarf in town, but they never gave him much attention. They always looked busy with other things, or too proud to even look at him. Elves and Dwarves were so different than himself, than other Humans. But these were different than the others. But still different than himself. The wheels in his mind gritted. He started to sweat and decided not to push fate any longer. He stood up quickly with his back to the trio and walked towards the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he felt relieved, as if they were no longer watching him. Indeed, he could hear them talk again. Being immeasurably curious, he walked only half the stairs and sat down on one of the steps. He was facing the wall, the bartenders and the trio could never see him. He looked at the wall and listened.


"A'ight, t'ey're all gone. Now tell me why ye brought us 'ere." The Dwarf asked, Scott almost couldn't understand the thick accent the Dwarf had. A silence followed, as if they checked if they were truly alone. Then Scott heard the doors of the kitchen, the bartenders leaving the room. "I've asked you to come, because I've received word the Prime are gathering the finest and most loyal for a meeting." This voice sounded rough, though feminine, it must be of the woman Scott had looked into the eyes. "Word from who?" A fair feminine voice asked sharply. "My source is undoubtedly trustworthy and I will say no more." "So we're supposed ta just trust ye shady source?" The Dwarf asked mockingly. "Dear Dwarf, this is Lana Wake, the witch who has lived as Emever. If she trusts anyone, you'd be smart to do so too." The Elf replied, a bit upset. "Aye, and I'm Morad Bulgar, t'e busy Dwarf of t'e mountains of Yore." Scott could hear a chair shove, as if the Dwarf stood up when he spoke these words so angrily and proudly. "Please, my friends, calm down. We all have our titles. Morad, you're rightfully careful. And Zoey, you are right to trust me. No harm done." Again, a chair was shoved and Scott could clearly hear the thud of the fat dwarf sitting down. "What's t'at?" The Dwarf asked out of the blue. "This, my friends, is the letter I've received to come to the council of the Prime. If you would look here, you can see there is a map in this tavern that will lead us there." Again silence, then all chairs shoved away and footsteps. "Via promptu!" The witch spoke. Then some more footsteps in the direction away from Scott. "Here. Point of interest, it says. It looks as if the location is close to here." The Elf spoke, when the footsteps halted. "I didn't notice that map!" Scott thought to himself, worried. "Was that an incantation she just said? Was it magic?" Scott got very excited again, his legs shaking. The trio lowered their voices and Scott couldn't hear any more of what they were saying. While they talked, Scott saw his chance to silently climb up the stairs and go to his room, on his toes. What he just heard amazed him, but he also wanted to know more. He heard their names, he remembered the witch mentioning something called 'The Prime'. This would not end here, Scott thought to himself. He decided to check the walls of the tavern as soon as the trio left.


Scott grabbed his financial notebook and his pencil and went to sit on the top of the steps. There he waited till the three left the tavern. When they did, he quickly sneaked down and ran towards the place where he thought they stood, from hearing their voices before. He grabbed a candle off a table and hold it in the air, towards the wall. Indeed, where once was a plain wall, now was something else. It was as if the map was not on top of the wood, but cut from the wooden wall itself. Scott looked closer. In a foreign font, fair letters showed at the top of the 'map'. "That must say point of interest." Scott thought to himself. Quickly he set the candle on the closest table, sat down himself and opened the notebook. There, at the table, he sketched the map as accurately as he could. He took his time, looking intensely at the map, then drawing what he saw. He wasn't even halfway, when the wood started to return to its normal state. The map slowly faded. With haste, Scott finished the rest of his replica map. He sighed when the map had completely disappeared and looked at his notebook. He closed it and went up the stairs slowly, back to his room. There at candle-light he inspected what he had drawn. "It looks pretty close, indeed, Zoey." He whispered to himself, repeating what the Elf had said. In his hands, he held a sketched map of the forest south of the castle of Sonaris. With a big smile he closed his notebook and stored it together with his pencil in the chest. He got rid of his boots and clothes and slipped himself under the sheets. Again, he took the time to first take a good look at the medallion. It shone so wonderful in the light of the candle, that Scott felt extremely happy to have it in his possession. He tucked it away safely under his bed-shirt and blew out the candle. The moon shone a weak light into the room, and in this darkness he thought over everything he heard. Surely, this event will have a tail, and he fell asleep.
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
Paragraph 1.4

Scott ran over the streets. He was late for work. He couldn't understand how he slept through the sun shining in his face. He ran past the apple tree again and took his chance to have a quick breakfast. The smiths looked dissatisfied with his tardiness. Scott's father already arranged for Derrick's younger brother to work the bellows. "We are on a tight schedule and you decide to show up halfway to noon. Any explanation for that?" His father asked, grumpy. "I-, it was late last night." He managed to reply, frowning for the bad excuse. He might as well haven't given an excuse at all. "I'm sorry, father." He added. "Don't be sorry to me, be sorry to everyone. Be sorry to the client if he comes around and we have to tell him his order is not finished yet!" Scott nodded. "So, what can I do now, then? Since I'm late and the bellows are occupied?" He gestured to Derrick's younger brother. "Start assembling." A voice behind Scott said. He turned around and looked up to the dark weathered face of the head of the guild, the master blacksmith. Scott's face went pale and he needed a moment to realize what was going on. "Straight away, sir!" He said and wanted to pass by the enormous man. But he didn't move. "You're taking days off, you're late, your friend comes in with a battered face. What's going on?" He questioned Scott, but his father replied for him. "Just an unfortunate colliding of different unfortunate circumstances, sir, nothing more." The blacksmith guild-master's eyes shot at Scott's father. "Very well. But don't play any more games with me Fellars. I'll have your part of the profit from this deal for it, should it happen again." He replied, talking to both Scott and his father, by using their surname. The boss had always been grumpy, but got extremely so once he got stress added to his daily routine. After his rant, he moved away slowly and back into his small room, where he sat most of the time just smoking pipe. Scott went to the assembly table. He sat down in front of all the small pieces. They were laid down in the shape the armor would take, but they weren't assembled yet. From below the table, Scott took a handful of small leather straps and put them to his left. Two entire arms of armor lay on the table, as well as two boots with the lower part of the leg. With a pincer he pinched the chains of the chainmail together. The chain was fractured, to make place for small pieces of steel plating. Attached to the steel plates were small rings, so Scott could pinch the chainmail to it. He wasn't even halfway the right arm, when his hands started to hurt from all the pinching he had to do. He rubbed his hands, but he noticed the other smiths paying close attention to Scott, whenever they could keep their eyes off of their own work. So Scott went on and worked through the pain in his hands. Once he the right shoulder to fingertips done, he tried it on and strapped it tight with the leather straps. Indeed, it was lighter than original steel plate armor and he could move easily with it. He nodded at it and put it back down. "One done." Scott said to himself. He immediately started with the next arm. Now that he made the right one, it was much easier to craft the left arm. Where in the right arm he had to search for the points of attachment, here he already knew them. Actually, it wasn't such a bad punishment after all. It was great fun to watch the armor coming together from many separate pieces. His hands hurt, but otherwise his back would hurt from the bellows. It was one pain for another, though this one was very inconvenient. The boots of the armor consisted of less, but bigger parts. The ankles and knees, however, were much more difficult to assemble. Before he started the legs, they had lunch together. For a change, and to get out of the way of their boss, they went out to the harbor to buy some freshly caught fish. It was quite a sight. Four big broad men, with withered faces and huge beards, with half-burnt tips. Besides them five younger men. They looked like boys in the company of their fathers. Yet, they were more muscular than the average man of their age. This was the case, because working the bellows was a heavy job. They walked over to the fish stand, smoke rose from it. The fisherman was smoking eels. "Ah, if I'm not mistaking, this is the blacksmith's company." The fisherman said, eyeing them. "Aye, and we're grumpy and hungry." One of them replied. "What shall it be, then?" The fisherman asked politely. "Ten smoked eels, tuna for twelve and fifteen fried sole." Scott's father said. He ordered as if there were fifteen of them, instead of nine. "Of course, you are big men. You've worked hard this morning, I see you're hungry." The fisherman laughed as he threw the soles in the frying pan. Derrick's father wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Autumn is coming." He said, sniffing his nose in a ghastly way. They waited a bit and then took the fish to the ridge of stone in the harbor, where they sat down. The smoked eels were a true blacksmith's fish. Their smell and taste matched theirs and their workshop. "I'm keeping this one for the boss, think he might appreciate it." Derrick said, taking one eel to the side, leaving the other nine for everyone else. The company feasted on the fish, filling their stomach quite well. Scott just took a big bite off the sole, when Derrick's father sneezed loudly. "Do you want some sauce with that, Scott?" Derrick said, smiling and gesturing to his father, who struggled to get rid of whatever came from his nose. The group laughed loudly, safe Derrick's father. "Autumn is coming."


They spent the whole afternoon at the blacksmith. Even past diner time. At the end of the day, on the assembly table lay quite a bit of the armor already. The arms and down-part of the legs were totally assembled. The upper-part lay in pieces and the helmet as well. It would take them one entire day of working to complete the back and front of the body and a morning to assemble it. Just in time, for in the afternoon, the day after tomorrow, the wizard would come. Like the night before, Scott and his father hugged and parted. "Say hello to mom!" Scott said. He walked back home, he passed the trapdoor with "A.L. access" written above it, carved out of the stone. He didn't bother to think much about it. He passed the apple-tree, but he left the apples for tomorrow. Then he reached the tavern. He opened the door and a wave of sound flushed towards him. The tavern was full of guests again, enjoying a meal, a drink and each other. Scott went in and greeted Kim, who, like always, smiled at him. "What's for dinner, Kim?" He asked with a smile, which could be read clearly as a smile of someone who fancies the other. "Oh, just carrots and potato, I'm afraid." She replied, grabbing a plate full and giving it to Scott. He looked at it happily. "Don't be afraid, this is great!" He said, after which he looked up to Kim and winked at her after which he found a spot to eat. Kim blushed. Scott sat down at the table where he had put his candle last night, to inspect the map that was cut out of the wall. He looked at the wall a bit, whilst sitting down. It didn't show any sign of cuts or carves. He ate his meal silently, not paying much attention to the guests at his table or around him. His mind was completely occupied by the "point of interest". His plan was to go to the place tonight, in the twilight. He didn't want anyone to stop him on his way and he was sure nobody would walk with him at that particular hour. Everyone would be either on its way home or to the bar. He would take the map with him, to find the exact spot. Scott felt around with his hand on his chest. Through his jacket, in his inner pocket, he could feel the notebook containing the map. Once he would be at the place, he would inspect it. It would most likely be completely dark by that time, which meant he had to take his matches from his room and steal a candle from the tavern. Well, it was only borrowing, really. He comforted himself. He quickly finished his food, eager to get going as he noticed it grew darker outside and thus more cozy inside. He put his plate back on the bar, Kim was serving food and drinks. He then continued his way to the stairs and up to his room. When he arrived in the hallway, he noticed his door was open. Scott was confused. "Oh Gods! I forgot to lock it!" In his hurry this morning, he left it unlocked.


Scott ran towards his room and found it entirely upside down. The chests were laying on top of each other in a corner. His clothes were literally everywhere and the items like the dagger, the matches or even the plant, were scattered in the room. "By Domm, what happened here?" He asked himself. He took his plants and tried not to step on any clothes while he walked to the window to put it back. Earth from the pot was scattered on the floor and it took some time to collect enough to fill the pot again. "There you go, fellow. Let's get started." He said, a tad sad. He picked up the chest and put it back on its original spot, cleaning the clothes from underneath and putting them inside the chest. He continued getting all the clothes from anywhere in the room. It seemed there wasn't any of them missing. Then he moved the other chest back to where it belonged. He searched the room for his items. His dagger lay on the bed, so he put it back gently in the box. His matches, even his liquor was still there. His painting was entirely cut up, as if someone wanted to search inside of it. "Why?" He asked himself. All he couldn't find were his pencils. So he searched the sheets of the bed and then below the bed. That's where he found them. He put them into the chest as well and closed it, after which he sat on it. "Why would someone turn over my room, of all rooms, and take nothing?" he thought to himself. He pondered, still sad about what happened. He couldn't think of anything and planned to go back down to the tavern. He locked his door behind him and managed to get to the bar. "Kim, Boris, can I have a word?" The bartenders looked a bit confused, in the crowded place. "What is it, we're busy." Boris replied. "It's urgent." Scott shortly said. Noticing his serious tone and monotony in his voice, they knew it was something of importance and they laid down their work. "What is it, boy? Go on?" Boris asked, worried. "Did you hear anything out of the ordinary today, during the day? Or did you see anyone odd, out of place, going upstairs?" Scott asked. Boris looked at Kim and Kim looked back at him. Then Kim shrugged. "Many people come in and out the tavern and up and down the stairs. Lots of them sleep in the bunks, and the people who sleep there change so fast in time, that I can't say if someone went up who wouldn't belong there, why do you ask?" She said. "I ask, because my room has been turned inside out, all my clothes all over the place. The funny thing is, nothing was taken." He said. Boris eyebrows rose. "Did you lock your door?" Kim asked. Scott explained how he didn't, in his hurry to get to work. "I haven't heard anything odd, that could point to something like that happening. Actually, it's been quite a calm day, today." He said. "You say they didn't steal anything at all, Scott?" Kim asked him, she looked worried as well. "Nothing at all." Scott replied. A drunk man started shouting at Kim for a drink, so she moved to help the guest to some ale. "Boy, if they didn't take anything that belongs to you, perhaps they searched something that belonged to them. It happens often some people forget to take something with them, when they leave the tavern. Did you find anything left behind in your room when you moved in?" Boris asked. Scott's face got blank, without expression. He swallowed once, realizing what had happened. "N-, No, Boris. Didn't find anything." He said, staring in front of him. Then he turned to Boris. "Thanks for your help, I'll be off now." He said and smiled to Boris' confused face, after which he walked back to his room.


"They came searching for the medallion!" He thought to himself. "By Domm, what do I do? If they know it's me who lives there now, they will surely find me in the blacksmith or on the streets." He panicked, grabbing the medallion through his shirt. He unlocked his room and went inside. He sat on his bed and removed the medallion from his shirt, to look at it again. He tried to find out what was behind the golden bars, behind the little door, but he couldn't see. He turned it around and found the blue gem in the back looked very pale in the weak moonlight. "Oh no! Moonlight!" Scott thought to himself. It was already dark. The cleaning up of the room and finding out what it was that had caused it in the first place took a long time. By now, twilight had passed and it was already late in the night. Now Scott couldn't go out to the forest below the castle of Sonaris, to find the point of interest. If people would catch him they might think he is up to something. Which he would be, but they might think he was up to no good and start questioning him. No, it was a bad idea to go tonight. He had no choice but to postpone his nightly visit to the forest. Anyway, he had too much on his mind already, with the medallion. He wouldn't be able to focus on his mission properly. He didn't even want to at this point, he suddenly realized. How could he want to look for something mysterious, when he didn't even know all of the mystery that found him. The fact remained, he was in possession of something that someone else risked a burglary for. The medallion scared him, but it also intrigued him. He couldn't part from it. He couldn't tell the bartender he had found it, for he didn't want to part from it. He figured the reason for it all was that there was so much more to find out about the item. Not only who it used to belong to, he would probably find out soon enough. Whether he liked it or not. What also interested him, was the thing it hold. It was a medallion, it had a small door. A door that shrouded something from his eye. That something could be revealed. Scott felt he wouldn't be satisfied until he knew. He felt he wouldn't let the medallion go before he knew. He felt alright with having multiple mysteries to solve at once, but until he found a way to open the medallion, he would hold on to it. Tomorrow night he would continue his other quest.
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
Paragraph 1.5

Last night Scott had trouble falling asleep. Suddenly, a lot of things happened at the same time. Furthermore, things happened that could harm him. This made him feel sick. Often he woke up, just to worry for a while and then fall asleep again. Also early in the morning, at sunrise, he woke up. He decided to get out of bed. He wouldn't want to be late this time. This would be the last morning of assembling at the smith's workshop and then, in the afternoon, the wizard would arrive to pick up his order. Scott put on his working-clothes again, along with his boots. He started walking the same route as always. He managed to pick a very good looking apple from the tree. "This is a sign, it's going to be a good day." He thought to himself. He took a big bite from the apple and walked on, looking at his long shadow. When he wanted to take another bite, he saw a worm crawling out of his apple. He threw the apple away, disgusted. "Or it might look like it's going to be a good day, but in the end it won't..." He mumbled to himself. With his hands in the pockets of his trousers he walked on, casting his shadow on the buildings besides the road. He changed his route at the turn just before the blacksmith, where he would normally go left, now he went right. It was so early, his father wouldn't be at the blacksmith anyway. So he took a stroll over the lodestone of Sonaris, in the direction of the marketplace. He saw the merchants filling the stalls with their wares. Scott decided to take a seat on a ridge of pavement in front of a store, to watch the merchants start their day. The hunter hung rabbits, pheasants, duck, and other wildlife from ropes. The different farmers put their wares on the tables and in front of it. The apples from the fields to the north, in big baskets on the ground. The flour from the mill at the edge of town, in big bags on the table. The baker had a stall next to the miller, where he put his breads and cakes, while talking to the miller. There were three fishermen competing with the same fishes, that were caught from different boats that now lay in the harbor. The cloth-merchant's stall was empty, he was a travelling merchant and came only on Saturdays. The Saturdays were extremely crowded in this part of Sonaris. Scott decided he had waited enough, when the first people entered the market to buy goods. He walked back over the lodestone and onwards to the blacksmith.


"You're early, son." His father said surprised, when they met each other just before reaching the blacksmith. "Yes, I woke up early." His father nodded, still a bit sleepy. They prepared the furnace and the bellows again and had a quick start. They managed to craft quite some rings for the chainmail of the torso, before Derrick and his family came in. They greeted each other weakly, for none of them preferred the morning over any other time in the day. Scott was most awake of everyone, since he already passed the blurry haze in his mind that the morning always gave him. Today, it was the younger brother of Derrick who sat at the assembly table. He smiled as he started to work, he seemed to like it. He was most skilled in it of any of the smiths. For this reason, he was mostly always the one to assemble the pieces. The difficult torso of this set of armor was a challenge, but Scott thought he saw him enjoy it. Scott didn't have much time to look around, he had to focus on his own work. Working the bellows was tough, it was heavy work. But this was not the only reason it was a hard job. Scott also had to focus on what his father was doing. The furnace had to be hot enough at the right times, but it shouldn't be too hot when his father didn't use it. If it would be too hot, it would burn an unnecessary amount of coal. Then again, when Scott left it too cold, it would take a large amount of effort to get the furnace going again and it would also cost them time. Time that was especially precious at this moment, so close to when the client would come. Scott felt the stress of all the smiths in the workshop. He hadn't seen the master-smith all day. The man probably had too much stress to properly function. The other smiths were very occupied with their own work. There was no casual talk this morning, no sounds of voices other than that of the people passing by. Merely the bellows sighing and blowing, making the coals crackle. Only the fire burning and the chimneys sucking the smoke away. Solely the hammers of the smiths on the blazing hot steel, shaping it to their desire. Even Scott felt a bit tense. The product had to be finished in time and then the wizard would have to pay. That moment of truth.


The smiths sat around the assembly table once they had finished all the pieces, it was two hours to noon. All of them helped to fit the last piece of armor together. Then, after a while, they fit the separate pieces together. The upper and lower legs, the hands and the arms. Just before noon, they took a step back from the table, looking at the armor they had created. For a moment, none of them said anything. They all just looked tense, but also satisfied, at their work. "Well we ain't got all day, let's clean this armor up and polish it!" The oldest smith said. "Ah right!" The others said and all of them at the same time took a step forward again towards the armor and started polishing. Scott walked into the room of the boss to get the scale, the change, the receipts and a pencil. Scott shrugged when he couldn't find his boss in the room either. He took a chair and put it in front of the desk, for the wizard. Then he put everything he had collected neatly on the desk. Preparations done, Scott went out of the room again. All smiths stood in a line next to each other, behind the armor, facing a tall man. This was the moment, the man was the client. Scott slowly came from the door of the room to stand next to his father, as straight and proud as he could. The wizard took a step up to enter underneath the blacksmith's roof. He wore dark brown, almost black, thick, leather pants. On top of that a shirt, attached to it several belts and straps. He wore a cloak over his outfit, his arms through the sleeves and the hood over his head. Over the sleeves of the cloak, he wore hard-leather arm protection. Similar to that which the hunter of Sonaris used when he went out hunting, wielding his bow and arrow. He wore gloves, black as well, with four rings of white on both his middle-finger and ring-finger. His hair was long and dark black, barely visible in the shade of the hood. He had long moustache, without a beard. His eyebrows were black and long, a bit messy, pointing upwards in different angles. Scott swallowed. The wizard's dark brown eyes were fixed on the armor. Little white lights shone in them. His nose was a bit large, thin and hooked. It pointed down. His lips were thin, the corners of his mouth pointing down. He was scrutinizing the armor, judging its quality. Scott felt weak in his presence, the wizard's mere looks forcing Scott's respect and humbleness in his favor. The wizard touched the armor with his gloves. He took one glove off. Where the white rings were, on his real hands were two silver rings. One had a wavy inscription, with thorn-like shapes to it. The other horizontal lines, dodging and embracing each other. The wizard touched the armor, but not randomly. He first touched the chains of each part, then the smaller plates, after which the bigger plates. He put his glove back on and the corners of his mouth went up a bit, forcing his lips in an amused smile. His eyes shot off the armor and he now looked over each of the smiths. His eyes ended at Scott, when he said: "I am impressed by your craftsmanship." and his eyes went over the group of smiths again, who stood very straight and very tense in a perfect line, next to each other. His voice was deep and dark. It had a mysterious ring to it as well as something supernatural. "You can all be proud, you've outdone yourselves. Such an unusual order for such an unusual piece of armor. You've created it in such an unusual limited amount of time." He said amused and clapped his hands a few times, as if he was the audience and the smiths the performers of some show. "Thank you, we've worked on it with all our spirits." A rough voice said, Scott looked up and to the side. Only now he noticed the boss had been standing on the left side of the line all this time. His voice sounded much higher than usual, probably from the stress. "I can notice." The wizard replied. "Now, who do I pay? Before taking this fine piece with me." He asked and eyed the smiths again. "M- me." Scott replied, barely able to gather enough courage to reply. "Follow me, we'll do the transaction privately, in there." Scott said and went in front of the wizard. The wizard nodded at the smiths kindly, and followed Scott into the boss' room. Once inside, Scott took the chair of his boss and gestured for the wizard to sit down. He tried to hide as much of the excitement he felt as he possibly could, keeping a kind smile at all times. The wizard sat down in front of the desk. Scott had to calculate the price now. He checked the notes with the amount of steel used, he checked the time that each smith had put into the project, he even checked any damage to the tools they used. Everything had to be noted to calculate the full price of the order. He took the notebook from the inner-pocket of his jacket and planned on using it as scrap paper. The wizard, meanwhile, had been looking around. His eyes slid from the walls to the desk, onto the notebook. Scott flipped the paper to an unused page. Scott suddenly noticed he drew the magical map on the paper in front of the blank ones. Quickly he flipped some more paper, but the wizard had already noticed it. The wizard pinched his eyes. "What was that drawing there?" He asked. "It looked familiar." Scott's kind smile disappeared and his face went pale. "Oh that was just a sketch I've made. You know, when I was- When I was explaining. Yes, when I explained a friend where he could find black mushrooms in the nearby forest." Scott looked up to the wizard and smiled faintly, uncertainly. The wizard frowned at hearing this unprepared story. His eyebrows almost touched each other and again the corners of his mouth were pointing down. "Mushrooms, hm?" Scott nodded hastily. "Yes sir, those special black ones. Great in a mushroom stew or soup!" The wizard raised his eyebrows, surprised. "Hm, I might pick some on my way home, where did you say I might find them?" The wizard asked, to test him for his lies. Luckily, a friend had told Scott a few days ago where to find these mushrooms. Scott managed to calm down a bit. "North of the castle, South of the church. You can't miss them." The wizard sat back in his chair again, thinking Scott wasn't lying to him. "Thank you, now, the payment?" The wizard asked. Scott nodded and put the end of his pencil in his mouth as he calculated something in his mind. He made some extra calculations in his notebook and was all too happy to close it again and stash it in his jacket. He then made up the receipt and handed it to the wizard, who inspected it. He read out loud: "Four hammers used, 50 Arunes." The wizard looked up from underneath his eyebrows, at Scott. Then he went on. "Nine employees, working an average of seven hours for four days, 2000 Arunes." The wizard changed his position. "33 pounds of steel used, 350 Arunes." The wizard sighed and stopped reading out loud, just reading through the receipt quickly. "In total, 4205 Arunes. Including assembly." He said and slowly put the receipt back on the table. Scott managed to give a kind smile at the wizard, not knowing what was going on in his head. The wizard repeated, "four-thousand-two-hundred-and-five Arunes." he reached inside his robe. Scott wasn't sure whether his eyes were playing tricks on him, or he really saw some light for a split second, coming from where the wizard's hand was going. Then the wizard retrieved a large pouch, the Arunes inside tinkled. The wizard opened the pouch and emptied it on the desk. Scott quickly collected the arunes and put them on the balance to weigh them. The wizard had paid exactly enough. "So this settles it, then?" The wizard asked. Scott stood up and nodded. "Yes indeed, here is your receipt. Enjoy your order." He said, but his mind did not agree. Inside his head, Scott told himself to ask about the lodestone. His mind told Scott to ask about magic and how the lodestone worked. Deep inside, Scott wanted to know everything, but seeing this wizard, he feared to ask him. The wizard's looks, his voice, his attitude. It was like the wizard was more than the king, Scott dared not speak freely. He showed the wizard out, where the smiths were now standing in a circle. The moment the wizard got out of the room, they quickly lined up again. "It is settled, I've paid and I'm taking this armor with me." The wizard said, eyeing the smiths for one last time, while walking straight for the armor. With a wand that he took from his robe, he lifted the armor. In the blink of an eye, the wizard reached his horsed, while the armor floated behind him. He made a gesture with the wand and the armor appeared to shrink and floated inside one of the saddle-bags on the large black horse of the wizard. The horse breezed as the wizard mountain it. It stamp on the gravel path with its large hoof, hairs hanging from his leg over it. The wizard made the horse walk off and a moment later they were out of their sight. All the smiths suddenly relaxed and sighed. "By the gods, this wizard was more scary than my mother in law." One of them said. It was silent for a while, as the stress wore off, then they laughed. "Your right, though. I wouldn't want to have anything to do with magic for all the gold and Arunes in the world." The father of Scott said. Scott wasn't sure anymore. For so long he wanted to know everything about it. Still, he felt like he wanted to know. But it was so awfully scary. The view he had on magic wasn't the same anymore. It changed into a sort of awe for the power it possessed. Which, in fact, made it even more interesting to get to know more about. "You all have the rest of the day off. I think we all need some time to adjust to what we have just experienced. At least we made a lot of Arunes in a relatively easy way." The boss said to the rest of the smith. They nodded and shrugged. "I guess it can't hurt to have an afternoon free." They replied.


Scott's father walked up to him. "Promise me you'll never meddle in magician's business." He said, laying his hands on his sons shoulders, looking him in the eyes. "I promise, father. This day has changed my view on magic." Scott replied, unsure whether he was speaking the truth or was telling a lie. Scott's father looked pleased and relieved. "Have a nice afternoon, son. Say hello to Boris for me, will you?" His father let go of Scott's shoulders. "Sure, will you tell mother I'm doing well?" He asked. His father replied affirming his question. They parted and went home.


<to be continued within this paragraph>
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
<Continuation of former post>

Unlike the other times, the tavern was completely empty. Just because the smiths had an afternoon off, that didn't mean the others had. Everyone was still busy working, safe the bartenders. They were sitting at one of the tables, throwing dice. "Done early, Scott?" He nodded. "What was he like?" Kim asked in great eagerness. So, she knew about the wizard, Scott thought. Apparently Derrick had told everyone in Sonaris about it. But before Scott could answer, Boris hit Kim on the top of her head. "Are you mad? I told you, don't interfere in magical business!" He yelled, but Kim replied aggrieved. "I'm hardly interfering! I'm just asking." She looked up at Scott from underneath her eyelashes. Scott barely started his reply, when Boris interrupted again. "I will not have talk of wizards or any kind of magic in my tavern. Both of you!" He said clearly, looking at the pair. Scott and Kim sighed, they had no choice but to adhere to his request. If they would step out or go to Scott's room, Boris would start talking to Scott's father about the matter and that was the last thing Scott needed right now. So he simply sat down with them and joined their game of dice, until the guests came in again, to have a drink and later to have dinner. As Boris served the first customers, Kim took the opportunity to interrogate Scott for every detail she wished to know about the wizard. Scott told her about the wizard's royal appearance that automatically forced himself to feel small and insignificant. He told her about the clothes he wore and the odd gloves. When he mentioned how the wizard had used magic to pack his order, Kim's mouth fell open. Her enthusiasm and amazement made Scott wonder whether she would have dared to ask about the lodestone-square of Sonaris. He would only know if she would ever meet him. Scott didn't mention in his store the moment the wizard noticed the map he copied into his notebook.


When it got more crowded in the tavern, Kim had to leave him to the guests and went to serve food and drinks. Scott thought about the plans he had made for when twilight came. He ordered a plate of food, today it was soup, and decided to think it over again, while eating. He would grab the candle from the table in the corner. Rarely anyone sat there, so they probably wouldn't notice it was gone. Before going out, he would also get the dagger from his room. After seeing the shady people that talked about the prime and after the encounter with the wizard, he couldn't be careful enough. He decided to take his notebook and pencil with him as well, in case he needed to write something down or draw, like the map on the wall of the tavern. Suddenly he remembered the witch casting a spell to make the map appear, but he couldn't remember the exact words she used. At the time she did, he was too excited to think about writing down what he heard. His plate was nearly empty, so he hurried and finished his soup. He brought the plate to the bar to check whether the bartenders were occupied. They were too busy to even notice Scott putting his plate there. He thought now would be a good time to get the candle. He walked up to the table in the corner and noticed, to his pity, it was occupied. Four men sat around it, drinking ale. Half of the table was full with empty mugs and the men laughed loudly and made a lot of noise. Luck is on my side, Scott thought, they were already drunk. Scott approached them and extended his arm to take the candle from the table. One of the drunkards watched him take it. When Scott turned to walk away, the man called him. "Boy!" Scott knew it was directed to him. He also knew it be better to turn around now and reply, than to walk on. They would only call louder if he did walk away and that would attract unwanted attention. So he turned back. "Yes, can I help you?" He asked politely. "You're a servant, aye? Get us four more mugs of ale, will ya?" The drunkard said with a thick tongue from the alcohol. Scott was relieved he didn't mention the candle. "Straight away, sir." He replied and rushed off, towards the stairs. He walked up and unlocked his room. There he made his final preparations. He took all his matches with him and put them with the notebook in the inner pocket of his jacket. It was twilight and night was setting in. The exact moment Scott had been waiting for.


He managed to slip out of the tavern unnoticed. The door of my room is locked, he thought to himself, double checking himself. He lay his hand on his jacket, where he felt the dagger through it, on his belt. He didn't take the fastest route to the site, but he took a route where he thought he wouldn't meet many people. He made a big circle around his parents' house. If they would spot him, his adventure would be over before it even began. He took narrow alleys, where the people never paid much attention to other strangers, in fear they would pay them back. At the edge of town, Derrick's family lived. It was impossible for Scott to reach the spot before nightfall, without passing them by. He made himself as small as possible and sneaked around the house, eyeing it from the corners of his eyes. Light came from the windows, but there weren't any people in front of them. Scott reached the forest, it looked dark and threatening. He had never been to the forest alone at this time. The only times he ever went there at night were at Halloween's night. Then the whole town was out here, in the light of dozens of torches. They would dress up as ghosts and demons and scare each other, while they walked through the forest towards the party. It was fun, but the forest looked plain different now. The trees were high and their branches reached down from the tops, seemingly pointing at Scott. They moved in the wind, as if the pointed at him first, then to where he should go: away. Scott gathered his courage and took a step forward. He stood a branch and it cracked, his heart pounded in his throat. He felt silly for being so scared of a breaking twig and with a little more confidence, he took a few more steps, until trees were all around him. He heard a twig brake behind him and he feared the worst. Before he could turn around, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He panicked and fell forward in fear. There, on the floor, he turned around and looked up. A big, muscular silhouette stood before him. It reached out for him with his hand. "Come on, me man." It laughed. Scott needed a few seconds to realize, but then he grabbed the hand and stood up, looking at his face. "Derrick, you bloody scared me, you mangy mutt!" He replied angrily, breathing heavily. "Didn't I?" Derrick laughed again, but Scott hushed him. "What are you doing here, anyway, Derrick?" He asked whispering. "The question is, what are you doing here?" Scott looked around if nobody else had followed them. "How did you find me?" Scott asked. "I was on my way to the tavern when I saw you coming out, all hurriedly. Then when you took the wrong turn, avoiding your parents' house, I knew you were up to something. So I decided to follow you. It was hard not to laugh when you sneaked by my home, I must say." Derrick grinned, about to laugh again if Scott wouldn't have hushed him again. "You're getting yourself into trouble, Derrick." He said. "Well, then so do you. What are you up to anyways?" He asked. "None of your business, Derrick, just go home." Scott replied shortly. "Then make it my business, me man, 'cause I ain't leaving." Derrick said stubbornly. "Fine. I overheard these shady people talking in the tavern a few nights ago. A dwarf, an elf and some kind of witch. She cast a spell and then they left. When I went down, I saw a map carved into the woods of the tavern. I copied it and here we are. I'm planning on checking out this mysterious location." Scott opened his notebook to the right page to show Derrick the sketch. "This is going to be good, Scott." He smiled. "Adventure! And bloody hell, look at that. It's so close!" Scott nodded, he heard that before. "It's just through this forest, Derrick. I say we follow the paths, but stay off them. We'll get there soon enough. We should be on the look-out not to be caught by any of the king's guards or we will surely hang for trespassing on royal grounds." He warned Derrick and Derrick agreed. They walked into the forest, night had fallen and it was hard to keep track on the path without walking on it. They came to a crossing. "Where do we go, me man?" Scott lit a match and used the light of the single match to check the map. Once the match was burnt, they took the right turn. "I'm not going to light the candle yet, we're still too close to Sonaris and the castle." They walked on, besides the dark path. It was the beginning of autumn and beech nuts started falling from the trees. It was a scary sound, in the dark. All around the two boys the nuts fell into the leaves on the ground and made noises as if there were footsteps everywhere. "Can you light your candle yet?" Derrick whispered. "Not yet." They passed several crossings and thus used up several matches on finding the right way to the point of interest. At some points, Scott thought to himself he must be out of his mind. He was risking a lot in his pursuit to knowledge and magic. This better be worth it, he thought.


In the dark, there were no distractions. They focused solely on being silent and keeping track on the roads. Their minds were much sharper than before. Suddenly, perhaps for this reason, Scott remembered the words the witch had said, when she made the map appear. "Derrick, wait." Scott said and he grabbed his notebook and pencil. "What?" Derrick said, walking back towards Scott. "Here, light this match and keep it above the book so I can write something down." He gave the matches to Derrick. "This is not the moment to listen to your creative self, Scott. We have no time to write things down, they do not matter now." Derrick tried to persuade Scott, feeling a bit exposed in the dark woods. "Just light it, will you?" Scott insisted. The match made a rushing sound as it lit on fire. The light of the single match shone on their faces, their clothes and on the barks of the trees around them. They cast long shadows in the middle of the forest. It was a small gradation of light in the huge mass of darkness the forest was. Scott wrote down, below the map: " Via promptu." Derrick couldn't read and was getting very impatient. The match burnt out, leaving the boys in the dark again. "No more tricks, Scott. It's risky enough as it is, even without lighting matches." Derrick said and moved on down the road. Scott closed his notebook and followed him. After the last turn, they ended up in an open space in the forest. The light of the moon beat the shroud of darkness the forest entailed. The open space was a low gradient hill of sorts. On top was a circle of black silhouettes: dead trees. Scott's and Derrick's eyes opened wide, they were impressed. "What is this place?" Derrick asked. "The point of interest." Scott swallowed. They approached the dead circle. They noticed the grass at the side of the forest had made place for a black kind of coverage of the soil. They eyed it with fear, but moved on nonetheless. Scott touched the first dead tree, it felt dry. He looked at his hand, it had turned black. He then smelled the tree. "The trees are burnt, Derrick. They are pure coal." They looked at the trees as they passed them by, and walked towards the center of the ring, the top of the hill. "What are we supposed to find here that is of interest?" Derrick asked hastily, impatient and fearing they would get caught any moment now. Scott shook his head in ignorance and they started to search the place. It didn't take too long before Derrick gave up. "There is nothing here but dead trees and soil, this place is evil, it's bad luck. We got to get out of here." He said, frightfully. But Scott knew there had to be more and he thought of the tavern. It seemed just a tavern, but with the right spell, it showed so much more. So he tried, just so he wouldn't regret not trying it. "Via promptu." He spoke loud, clear and slowly. The black trees groaned, Scott quickly put his hand on the dagger. Derrick took a step back and stood back to back with Scott. From the base of the trees, purple flames shot up till they covered the entire trees. All the way till the tip of their branches. The boys circled, back to back in awe of what was happening, looking at the scary black trees around them, purple light shining on their faces. The trees moaned another time and a flash appeared. The boys turned quickly and knelt down, hiding behind the slope of the hill. A loud bang was heard in the center of the circle of the trees. With another groan of the charred vegetation, something appeared in the center, engulfed with red flames. They looked at it, genuinely frightened. Inside the red flames an object appeared. It was like a shadow, as if it wasn't really there. On top of the hill, in red flames, lay a replica of a black crown. Then suddenly, with a flash, all flames disappeared, as well as the crown. The boys took some more steps back, somewhere in the circle of trees. They looked around and saw each tree now carried a letter, shining a purple light. Scott opened his eyes wide and hurried to grab his notebook and pencil. In the purple light, he wrote down every letter. U-O-C-M -I -R-A-L-C-A- N. A few moments later, the letters disappeared, just like the map on the wall of the tavern had. "What was that?" Derrick squeaked. "I- I do not know, but we will find out." Scott replied, unsure of the words he had just spoken. "You made it happen, you must know what you did." Derrick said terrified, looking at Scott. "You said those magic words!" Scott looked back at Derrick, terrified as well. "You're right. By the gods, don't tell anyone about this." Derrick hastily shook his head a dozen times. "Let's get out of here!" Scott nodded and the boys ran back to where they came from, into the forest. They remembered most of the road, but had to stop a few times to check the map which way to go. They were much faster than the route towards the point in the map. As they got near the edge of Sonaris, they stopped to talk and take a breather. "No word about this, to anyone, you hear?" Scott told Derrick. "Neither will you!" Derrick replied. They both nodded. "I'll solve this riddle, in the mean time, don't let anyone notice anything of the fact that we've been outdoors tonight." Derrick nodded and promised he would be as silent as possible to go into his parents' house. Scott went back to the tavern. He run through the town, taking the same way back as the one he took in the twilight. Once he reached the tavern, he pushed the door open a little bit to look inside. It was almost empty, a few people were still hanging around. Scott slipped into the tavern and went straight for the staircase. Unfortunately, Kim spotted him. Scott didn't pay attention to that fact and walked up the stairs, towards his room, as normal as he possibly could manage. He fell down on top of his bed and removed the notebook from his pocket. He stared at the letters.


U-O-C-M-I-R-A-L-C-A-N


It must mean something, he thought to himself. He tried to pronounce it, but nothing happened. He shook his head. "I'm too tired for this, right now. Tomorrow I'll take another look." He said to himself and changed clothes to go to bed.
 

Bartooliinii

An Alteran Bard
Patron
Retired Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Slimy_Froggy
Slimy_Froggy
Patron
CHAPTER TWO:

Paragraph 2.1


A few days had passed since the incident and Scott had worked on solving the riddle every evening. To no avail. By now, he had no choice but to ask someone about it. He knew where to ask, but he hated the place. It was where he had learned how to read and calculate the boring finances of the blacksmith. It was the library. On one late afternoon, when Scott was released from work a few hours earlier, he went there. He crossed the square of the lodestone in the direction of the library. Like often, it was quite crowded on the square and Scott had trouble getting through the crowd of people that walked perpendicular to him, in the direction to and from the marketplace. He could already see the library. Behind some of the windows, dusty people were reading dusty books. Scott suddenly remembered the smell of the old dusty woman that had taught him how to read. Her ancient skin giving off an air of dead wood. Worse was when she looked through her reading glasses and read out loud together with him. Scott couldn't even think of what could possibly come close to the breath of the woman, but in a reflex he almost put his sleeve in front of his nose when he passed through the doors of the library. Behind the doors sat a woman at a desk, who would redirect the visitors to the section where they'd most likely would find the book they were looking for. She was reading, but as Scott walked in she looked up from her book. "Can I help you?" She asked with a raspy monotone voice. Scott scraped his throat at the sound of it. "Well, I am looking for..." Scott suddenly realized he couldn't just plainly ask for books on magic. They wouldn't have them and if they did, they were hidden behind a lock, out of Scott's reach. "Yes?" The woman pressured. Scott knew what he was looking for. Of course, books that could hold the words with the letters he noted down. But how would he word it? "I am looking for... books." She blinked. "Books?" Scott bought himself time to think. "Books on... Riddles... And poems... Myths?" Scott hesitated. The woman's face got a bit less dull. "My favorite subject." She said with her monotone voice, though her face showed a slight excitement, if at all noticeable. "Third alley to the right, end of the hall." She said and she turned her face down to continue reading. Scott had managed. He was relieved and walked to the alley she had told him to go. He scanned through the shelves, reading the titles on the sides of the covers of the books. "The dark tomb" one said. "Theory on riddles" another said. Scott scanned through them a bit faster. "Trees and cheese", "The muddy roads", "Ancient riddles", "The myth of flames". Scott took the last two out and hold them under his left arm. He went on. "Gromm's cookies", "A mermaid's song", "The riddle of Analyss". He took the first one and had a quick read. Like he already thought, this book wouldn't help him any further, but what he read made him smile. "Some other time." he said to himself and put it back on the shelves. He then took the last one and added it to the books under his left arm. As he scanned through some more, he noticed how heavy the pile of books became, adding one after the other. The last one he took was a rather large on called "The tales of wizard Grimmtail". That sounds enjoyable, he thought. He took all the books to a large table and set them down. The poor table just made cracking sounds for a while, under the weight of the pile of books. For a moment, Scott was afraid it would break, so he checked the table's sturdiness. It was old oak wood, so Scott ensured himself it would hold. He sat himself down on a large dark chair and took a book off the top of the pile. The room he was in was neatly filled with large dark tables with thick legs. The chairs at each table were also large and had a soft leather cover, they were really comfy. Now Scott started to understand slightly why people liked to come here. From the ceiling hang chandeliers with many big candles, as well as a candle on each table. At all walls bookcases were installed, some full, others empty. Now and then, a librarian came with a trolley to take the books out and bring them back to the right alley in the library. Scott figured he had to put his books in one of the bookcases once he was done, so the librarians could categorize them again. He stopped looking around and started reading.


The title was "Druidic rituals". Scanning through it, it was apparently a poem about druids and their habits. Scott took his notebook and opened it on the page he had written down the letters. It was a hard job to match as bunch of seemingly random letters with existing words. Even harder still, because Scott didn't know how many words the letters formed or whether it formed a word at all. For all he knew, it might as well be a series of words and the letters he noted down the first letter of each word. He looked at the letters intensely. Below them, he had tried hundreds of combinations. Some resulted in actual words, but they didn't make sense. He then looked back into the book and tried to find a relation. Somehow, he felt this book wasn't going to help him any further, so he laid it to the side and took the next book. It was called "Ancient riddles". Scott expected he might have more success with this one.


"A desert looks sandy and only bare,

but it holds more if you take good care.

Cold at night, hot at day.

White moonshine, yellow sunray.

A difference hidden, but so obvious,

yet in Lauka, they are all oblivious

of the arcane riddles that lay beneath

the container of belief."


Scott recognized the name "Lauka". He checked his notebook, sure of the fact he had written it the name down before. There it stood written, Lauka the desert city. It was one of the maps in the tavern. He diecided to leave this distraction for later and scanned through the book for a relation to what he found that night in the forest. But he couldn't find a match. Neither did it mention flames, a crown, or dead burnt trees in a circle on a hill. That reminded him of the book "The myth of flames". At least it had a similarity with Scott's earlier experience in the forest. He scanned through it like the others. It mentioned a lot of fire related things.


"Beyond the realm of air, lies the space of flames.

Eternal life awaits the hero who ventures there,

where the starts, moon and sun reside."


Interesting, yes, but seemingly unrelated. He found many similarities with the flames of that night, but nowhere a similarity with the letters he had found. With a sigh, he closed the book and laid it aside as well. He read the titles of the remaining books. The only one that had more chance of containing a clue to the riddle was "The tales of wizard Grimmtail". So he grabbed the large book with two hands and put it in front of him. He touched the cover of the book, it was leather. The words were molten into it. No denying, it looked pretty, but would it hold the information Scott was looking for? As he opened the book, a librarian came to light the candles, as twilight sank in already.
 
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