The brilliant sun just rising over the trees was heralded
with the sound of the great gates of Mathon grinding open. The populace of the
city was already bustling about, filling the air above the streets with the
ring of hammers from the shipyard, the shouts of merchants pushing their wares
on passersby, the creak and grind of wagon wheels over cobble stone streets. In
the center of the city the spring fed marble fountain splashed noisily as
decorations for the midsummer festival that would kick off that evening were
strung about the marble columns ringing the square.
Excitement could be felt in
the air as people walked by the decorations, calling out to those they knew and
making plans for that evening. The decorating always began in the square, then
it would drift north to the Wharf district and the docks, the half built ships
hung with lights and flowers. Next the Lower district would be transformed with
ribbons strung between the tall buildings, bringing color into the usually
dark, close streets. Lastly the Upper district would be decked out with large
amounts of lights, ribbons and flowers lining the more open streets and grand
homes until the whole city would be glowing, welcoming the shortest night and
the longest day to follow. It was then, near sunset, that the Hold Lord and his
family would emerge from the Great Hall and parade to the town square where
Lord Goren would officially start the Midsummer celebration.
Workers from the
outlying villages slowly trickled into the city through the large gates, and
soon their families would be walking through those gates to join the
celebration. But one in the crowd passing over the threshold of the city was
not there for work or the festivities later on. At first glance the young woman
could have been one of a number of young women joining the early morning throng
on her way to work as a seamstress or nanny. She had on worn leather boots, a
dress that was slightly dirty and torn in a few places but was a very pretty
shade of blue, and over that a grey wool cloak that bespoke her travels in the
northern holds. She kept the hood of her cloak up as she followed the stream of
people through the twisting streets; the old, slightly rundown buildings of the
Lower district looming over them and creating an almost perpetual dusk. She
stayed in the middle of a large group heading towards the town square and was
able to avoid the hassling of merchants and beggars and staying out of the eye
of any of the guards that occasionally passed by.
When the woman saw the open
square ahead of her, she looked around quickly and spied an Inn several paces
away. The hanging sign out front named it the Sunrise Inn and she gently pushed
her way through the crowd to the door of the Inn and slipped inside. The
interior was small, but well lit, sunlight streaming in through the windows
facing the square. The woman gazed about at the patrons sitting at the few
tables and eating breakfast. Several looked as though they had been drinking
heavily the night before, but one man in the far corner looked up sharply at
her, a movement she missed as she made her way to the bar where the innkeeper
was wiping it down. The innkeeper had a large girth and was a good head taller
than the woman, but he smiled amiably as he turned to her approach.
“Mornin’, what can I do ye fer?” He asked in the rough
accent of a Southern Barrens man. The woman replied in a low voice that didn’t
carry very far.
“I would like to buy a room for a night.” The Innkeeper
nodded his large head, not even blinking an eye at her strange accent. With the
festival that night many people from all parts of the land were running about
in the city.
“Very good, tha’ll be one gold piece.” The Innkeepers voice
carried through the room to the man near the back who was watching the exchange
with interest. The woman pulled out a single gold coin that flashed in the
light and placed it into the palm of the Innkeeper. As he turned to go around
the bar, the woman turned her head and looked directly at the man in the back
corner. She took in his brown hair, olive skin and watchful green eyes and
stiffened slightly. The two strangers stared at each other, the man trying to
see her face under the hood, but then the Innkeeper addressed her and she
turned to listen to him.
“Firs door on the righ’ up the stairs. That’s all yours for
the night. If ya don wanta stay another night I ask ya been gone by noon
tomorra.” She bobbed her head in a nod, glanced once more at the man in the
corner, then went up the stairs. As soon as she was out of sight of the dining
area she hurried to her room and locked the door behind her. She had no pack with
her and she ignored the bed as she walked over to the window and looked down at
the slowly transforming square below. She pulled her hood down to reveal long,
curly black hair, a full mouth, high cheekbones and sparkling grey eyes. Her
eyes fixated on the platform where the Hold Lord and his wife and son would be
standing later on that night and a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
In the back corner of the small Inn the man sat back against
his seat and watched as the hooded figure disappeared up the stairs. She had
powerful magick in her, he felt it the moment she walked through the door. He
was a Proficient at the College in Sethis Hold, his specialty in water magick,
so he knew quite a bit about the magickal arts. And that was what made the
hooded figure so very intriguing. He couldn’t place what type of magick she
had.
The four schools of magick: water, fire, air and earth, left an impression
upon the person using them, a sort of energy or aura about the person. Earth
auras were strong and unyielding, shoving other energies aside. Fire was
crackling and intense, passively reaching out and drawing energy from the
things around the person. Air felt as though the aura was constantly shifting,
shapeless and without form, but there all the same. And water auras encased the
user in a smoothly flowing blanket of energy that shifted in strong patterns.
The aura around the figure was nothing like anything he had ever encountered
before; it felt alive, wild and untamed, barely contained power swirling around
in mesmerizingly random forms.
As he took a last sip from his drink his mind
wandered to the possibility of the stranger being a dark magick user, a type of
magick strictly forbidden by the College. He quickly threw that idea out. He
had only ever read about black magick users, but he did not feel like the
magick of this stranger was wrong and unnatural. If anything it felt more
natural and more a part of the world around them than any other kind of magick.
He stood and sauntered over to the Innkeeper. The large man knew he was a
magick user, it was hard not to see from the large water amulet he wore around
his neck and the glyph burned into the inside of his wrist. He liked staying at
this Inn when in Mathon because the Innkeeper did not mind magick users. Most
people outside of Sethis Hold had an inherent distrust of mages. Sure, there
had been mages who had gone bad in the past, but most magick users were simply
scholars with a rather unique ability.
“Excuse me, but did you happen to get that person’s name?”
The Innkeeper, whose name was Marley and who appreciated the mage’s business,
what with how much he could drink, smiled regretfully.
“Can’ say tha’ I did.” He leaned across the bar and the mage
leaned closer to hear him. “She did haf a strange accent though. Ne’er heard
anythin quite like it. Almost like a song it was.”
“Strange. How long did she buy a room for?”
“Only the night.” He wiped out a few glasses as he watched
the mage think over his information. “D’ya think she’s a disrepu’able character?”
The mage was pulled from his reverie by the question and smiled up at Marley.
“No worse than your usual customers. Now, I know it’s early,
but how about a small glass of ale before I go up to the Great Hall?” Marley
smiled largely and went to fill his favorite customers order. As Marley went
about pouring his drink, the mage focused on a few of the bottles of liquor on
the top shelf near the stairs. He reached within himself for the pool of energy
that was his life force and shaped it into a simple spell that would allow him
to scry the stairwell whenever he wanted.
As he took the mug of ale from Marley
and handed over the coin to pay for it he thought about who the woman could be.
He planned on finding out, between consulting the Hold Lord and taking part in
the midsummer revelries. Yes, he would have a very hectic evening. Much more
exciting than sitting in the library at the college or discussing the
parameters of a certain spell with colleagues, he smiled to himself at the
thought of a little adventure.
And that's all im posting for now. If you read all of that, thank you! If you didn't get to this part, then you won't be thanked, I guess. If you scrolled down to here without reading the above bit of story then I take my thank you back as you did nothing to earn it! Well, you did look at this blog so I guess I should thank you for that. Well, that's all for now!
