Ch: 234 Slippery When Wet
Gary was down in the workshop after naptime with Shai at her bench beside him, bumping their hips in time as they polished armor, replaced straps and rewound hilts. There were a few more partially finished instruments dangling on his racks as well.
They had all the shutters flung open, letting the afternoon sun pour in through the foundation wall as they worked, whistled and sang their conversation. Tallum’s enormous ginger form leaned in through one of the windows on the south side and called to get their attention.
“The duchess sent a messenger, she wants to come over at seventh bell.”
“She’s welcome whenever…” Gary began, with a goofy grin on his face.
“She’s bringing most of her court… she thought you’d like some warning.” The big man continued, ignoring Gary and speaking to his far wiser sister. “Some rumors have stirred up the local nobles, they want to see for themselves…” He remarked drily, while Shai was busy clearing her bench.
“Fie, noble company coming an barely three hours tae prepare…” Shai growled. “Empty thy hands, boy. We hae work tae do.”
“Why? S’just a bunch of rich nobs coming over.” He mumbled happily, as he riveted the straps onto Becky’s new buckler. In size, it was little more than an enlarged vambrace, a wide oval of inscribed bronze that would buckle securely to her left forearm. When paired with her new rapier, along with her armor and robe, he was confident that Becky had as much protection as his arts could provide.
Becky’s Blood Dipped Quill, enchanted rapier. This sword class weapon is part of a set. Etheric and spiritual enchantments. Rarity, unique. Rank, Copper. Elemental affinities: Earth, Air, Light.
Effect, Ghost Whomper: Undead, Extraplanar and or Outsider entities may be struck with this weapon, regardless of tangibility. Undead, Extraplanar or Outsider entities struck by this weapon may be afflicted with: Spectral Decay.
Spectral Decay: Affliction, causes rapid dissolution of unnatural matter and energy. Base chance to inflict: twenty percent, scaled against: Rank, Will, Mind, Animus, Might and Resilience. Incorporeal or intangible entities can be affected.
Effect, Borrowed Aegis: Hostile physical attacks and, or effects deflected or impacted on this weapon may be absorbed and retained for weilder’s use. Scales against: Rank, Might, Will, Resilience, Agility, Animus.
Energetic effects: kinetic, elemental, magical or spiritual, may be stored until those energies are released at wielder’s discretion.
The gleaming brass and steel weapon had taken a long time to complete, since he still struggled to get his enchantments in harmony with the ferrous metals. The paired buckler of bronze sheathed ironwood was a much easier build.
Becky’s Intransigent Will, enchanted buckler, etheric and spiritual enchantments. This shield class weapon is part of a set. Etheric and spiritual enchantments. Rarity, unique. Rank, Copper. Elemental affinities: Earth, Air, Light.
Effect, Rock of Aegis: Hostile energies which impact the face of this shield may be rendered temporarily inert and stored for future use. Hostile physical attacks and, or effects deflected or impacted on the face of this shield may be absorbed and retained for weilder’s use. Scales against: Rank, Might, Will, Resilience, Agility, Animus.
Energetic effects: kinetic, elemental, magical or spiritual, may be stored until those energies are released at wielder’s discretion. Effects may be discharged through either the shield face or the paired sword ‘ Becky’s Blood Dipped Quill’. Storage costs will gradually consume energies stored in shield.
Caution: effects discharged through boss of shield or paired sword may be: Unstable, dangerous, unclean, destructive, violent, concussive, percussive, obstructive, corrosive, toxic, intoxicating.
Shai insisted on having a direct hand in creating her gear, so things were progressing more slowly there. At least she let him dress the kids properly without complaint. He was still musing and clearing things away when he heard the door closing, she was already upstairs.
Shai was in the kitchen working feverishly, with Ivy and Dannyl alongside when he came up a few scant minutes later. “Get thyself busied wi tidying up, we hae company coming!”
“Hmph. It’s just more nobles…” He got to polishing his wares and straightening the stock anyway. A few needed tuning as well so that was…
“Fie! Nay yer stock an trinkets! Get any unclean or dangerous things tucked away, lest ye would be the cause of more troubles.”
“Come one that only happened…” He began counting on his fingies slowly and muttering under his breath. “The ghost whistle, the ghost knife, the snake club…” He looked up with a dissatisfied grunt. “Ok… that’s fair.”
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A storm swept up from the south, bringing wind and rain to the city. Most of its fury remained in the Shallow sea, whipping up waves nearly two feet high! The fishing fleet crowded into the sheltered harbor and filled nearly every mooring with heaving timber and cordage. The seawall resounded with the crashing surf, as spray flew several inches into the air. Moonrise surged gently at her lines, while her rigging whispered and moaned.
Angie and Rolf were cozy as could be, sitting by the magically fueled iron stove and listening to the ship sing her song. They cuddled in a comfy fold away couch, under a warm quilt covered in bright wildflowers in delicate patchwork. Otho lay at their feet, snug in a blanket of his own, while the young people read quietly together.
“Both my mother and duchess Jaspreet recommended this book highly… but it seems so… foreign.” Rolf mumbled, with his nose buried in the first quarter of ‘Kim, by Rudyard Kipling’. “Are you sure this is the same fellow who wrote that ‘Jungle Book’?”
“Absolutely certain… Becky says he was a poet and man lost in the world, a foreigner in his native home…” Angie muttered softly, deep in ‘Shakespeare’s Sonnets’. “Perhaps you will see some clues to what my mad new brother has planned.”
“If that creature has a ‘plan’, it were best if we foil it now…” Ester grumbled from her hammock.
“That ‘creature’ is my friend and Rolf’s… and our host. Please try to restrain yourself.” Angie scolded the blonde girl gently, but firmly.
“There has been enough restraint showed already…” She grumbled. “I still can’t manifest my true form!”
“Ester…” The young woman began in a warning tone. “Rolf will be ready when he is ready. You promised not to pressure him.”
“I fear I will have to trip him in the bath and hope he falls into you…”
“Ester!” They both chorused in shock.
Rolf took a deep, calming breath and spoke very clearly. “I must attend a function this evening, as must Angie. We would prefer if you would come… but you must maintain proper decorum and not insult our host.” He smiled at her and sighed. “There will be many humans of great importance there, so we must be courteous.”
“Humans in general, whether important or not, hold little interest for me… those few I have met have been disappointingly mundane.” She stared at her toes in embarrassment, refusing to look at either of the two humans she actually cared about.
“Ester… I need you to behave, or you can stay and watch the ship with Otho and Annie.” Rolf used his most earnest and forthright tone of voice. He already brought a ton of both earnest forthrightness, and forthright earnestness to the party.
“In that case, I shall remain here.” She answered tartly. “Annie and Otho will have to suffer my outrageous bad manners.”
Rolf opened and closed his mouth helplessly a few times, like a fish on the deck, so Angie weighed in. “Very well, we will return before midnight. Stay aboard and mind Annie and Otho.”
Rolf wore the formal robes of a knight of Order and a simple shortsword to fulfill his duty to go armed, while Angie went in the dress uniform of the ducal guard of Lemur, in indigo and gray. The two donned a pair of brightly patterned waterproof cloaks and stepped out into the wet and rainy dockside.
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The duchess’ personal guard arrived first, With Cameron in the lead, dressed in a fine and fancy uniform. The duchess’ colors with shining brass buttons and buckles made a brave showing, even on a rainy day.
Angie gave Rolf a peck on the cheek when they arrived together and dashed off to join her comrades shortly before duchess Sheng and her court rolled up in a hodgepodge of carriages.
Grace and her twenty or so most senior nobles arrived like an avalanche of silks and brocade, stampeding into the hastily expanded foyer, to get in out of the rain. Most were happy to exchange formal shoes for Gary’s slippers, simple conjured shearling affairs, at Shai’s insistence. The madman still rankled at that, it felt like a missed opportunity to let a little air out of some inflated egos… silly animal slippers never hurt anyone.
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Each lord or lady came with a single lifeguard, a stern looking veteran indentured warrior in light armor bearing a shortsword for form’s sake. In general, they were less accommodating in the footwear department. Grace had to set a jaundiced eye on a few reluctant warriors to gain grudging compliance with the slipper rules. Shai’s dining protocols required more direct intervention.
“An kin be guesting in mine home, ye shall sit an eat, or I’ll be knowing the reason why…” Shai growled at the warriors. “Tis the Adventure guild an yer own duchess hosts thee…”
Once everyone was settled in and tended by the hurricane that was Shai, dinner started landing on the tables. Shai and Ivy had outdone themselves, creating a feast in a short time. The meal started with tiny cups of spicy seafood cioppino and toast spears laden with garlic… they need not know that it was leftover from last night’s dinner.
That was followed by course after course of familiar orphanage favorites: wallowbear sausage and roasted vegetables, colossal squid stuffed with seasoned rice and steamed. It went on for a while… Dessert was a spread of fruits from the garden, carefully sliced and arranged to be served with honeyed nuts and crumbly blue veined Wheatford cave cheese.
The soft hum of conversation and the clatter of humble wooden tableware filled the room for a while, as warm, spicy and comforting fare washed over the gathered nobles and guards.
“I doubt the duchess brought us all to this strange place for a meal… however excellent.” Irascible old count Villanueva growled, once his plate was empty. “What’s really going on here?”
Grace rose and smiled at the crowd of her vassals, letting her regard wash over the whole group slowly. “Rumors have begun to spread over the last two weeks, rumors of reforms in my orphanage… tonight I put those rumors to rest.” She said, with a firmly disapproving tone. “The Orphan’s league will be assuming administration of all orphanage functions and curriculum within the week.”
An individual of dramatic disposition might call the result ‘an eruption of noise’ or ‘a furious and disbelieving clamor’. In any case, they carried on and on, so Grace pulled a long slender rod of bamboo from her sleeve, placed it to her lips and began to play a sprightly little tune, suitable for a peasant dance.
When the great lords and ladies of Lemuria finished gabbling their protests into the taproom, they noticed that their duchess was on a low stage surrounded by three tiny whelps with musical toys. Duchess Sheng seemed to be having a grand time, playing a country dance for the servants of this strange inn.
“Your grace…” Count Villanueva spoke slowly and carefully, but with less courtesy than the duchess’ guard felt she deserved. “Did you bring us all out to this common… public house, in service of some foolish jest?”
The indigo and gray figures scattered around the room stiffened at the affront in the count’s voice. She quelled them all with a subtle gesture of her hand and a bland smile.
“No, count Louis, there is no jest nor jape. First, we must savor the most unique and, if I may say so, the most exciting part of the evening.” She turned to the enormous red haired woman who seemed to be the publican of this strange inn.
“Shai, if you would be so kind as to lead us to the baths?”
The giantess bowed gracefully, in a merry tinkle of bells, before turning on the gathered nobles with a radiant smile.
“Duchess Grace would hae thee all follow me, we go tae the baths, my good lords an ladies.” Her accent raked at the genteel ears of her audience, but something in her manner made her seem… compelling, fascinating and reliable.
“That is a request from your duchess… my lords and ladies.” Grace sang from the stage, where her flute resumed its song a moment later.
#
Once everyone was soaking, Grace smiled at the gathered company and spoke loud and slowly.
“The rumors and speculations that have been circulating in the city are untrue. I am not replacing the administrator of the orphanage.” A general sigh rose from the moist nobility. “Instead, I have made arrangements to transfer full administrative and day to day control to the Orphan’s league representative, as soon as that worthy arrives.” She said, to the nobles in the bath.
Rain thrummed on a wide green awning, but the wind that shook the tarp and made its stays sing never entered the bath, somehow. No trace of the storm landed in the garden pool even as it made its fury known all around. Duchess Sheng did not raise her voice to be heard over the storm, she cut through it with startling clarity.
“Furthermore, by order of the council, in unanimous agreement; there will be no indenture sale in Lemur, or any of the twelve duchies, this autumn.” She barked that nugget out, as her vassals became restive once more.
“This year’s crop of orphans will be enrolled in the ducal guard, or assigned to War, by order of the council of dukes.”
The Wheatford contingent fell silent in shock, while the locals began throwing a collective tantrum.
“...can barely keep my warbands staffed even now…”
“...Prices were already too high!”
“I had my eye on some fine stock this season! Now what will I do?”
Tawny stepped up to the duchess with Liam and spoke urgently under the furor. “Is this really true?” She demanded hotly. “I had no inkling that the council had decided!” Tawny whispered harshly at her auntie Grace.
“Word came by portrait array this morning. The council has not decided anything though.” She murmured. “This action only moves the timeline back, at the cost of some unrest and dissatisfaction among the nobility.”
“What does that mean?” Liam asked, a terrible urgency clearly visible on his face.
“The Indenture class this year will be taken into the ducal guards of the duchies, with any surplus to be absorbed by the cult of War.” She whispered. “The nobility will fret and fuss, until they realize that I will now bear a much greater burden, as they will be unable to staff their own warbands, while mine will grow vastly…”
“How distressing.” Tawny frowned unhappily. “The merchant Adventure speculators will be having kittens over this, as will the more rural domains. The entire economy will teeter on the brink of ruin…”
That was the prevailing sentiment in the pool as well. The phrases ‘Economic Disaster’ and ‘Kill The Economy’ saw a great deal of use in the general conversation.
“Your sentiment is precisely why I have brought them here.” Grace said, with a tiny grin showing through her sober mein. “Gary will confound and befuddle the issue, until they can’t even see straight. That is the greatest power he wields.”
“Certainly not, your grace…” Tawny protested. “I love the boy dearly, but he’s…”
“He’s got work to do…” Grace whispered. “These people have been a thorn in my shoe for twenty years… now shush.”
Grace spoke up loudly from her spot by the waterfall with the little ones and the other young Bathers. “Lords, ladies of Lemur… change is coming and it will be coming more quickly than a summer storm. You have embraced some already.” she smiled at the group once more, making firm eye contact with each, whether lord or warrior. “I noticed none of us wore the raiment of state today…”
A few complaints arose from the steam.
“...Traditional…” Someone grumbled a little too loudly.
Duchess Sheng quirked an eyebrow at old baron Fulich, the complainer, then turned to the round cheeked, dark haired man soaking in the bath beside her. “Lord Lance, I sent instructions to you a few weeks ago… please tell the lords and ladies your findings.”
“Her grace instructed me to carefully disassemble certain of her shoes and… other ceremonial raiment.” The pudgy, dark haired lord said calmly, with the air of an instructor lecturing in his classroom. “I can confirm, her grace’s things… and my own, were enspelled with a dizzying array of unpleasant and unwholesome sorceries. My research continues but I assure you, those garments were made with no good intent in mind.”
That set off more distant complaining thunder from the gathered nobles… and a few wicked grins from the warriors in the pool.
“Getting rid of the wretched undershorts is all well and good… but the economy will collapse without an indenture sale this season! My whole year has been building up to it!” Count Pilchard complained bitterly.
“Four of my ten warriors will complete their indentures this season… what will we do without fresh stock?!” He unleashed a flood of similar grievances, from all around.
The loud and chaotic morass in the bath fell silent as a loud voice rang like a bell through the pool, echoing from the walls.
“Economy this, Economy that…! Economy Bullshit!” A bland featured young hoodlum barked from his seat on the curb of the pool.
“Rich cunts waffle on about the economy like it was their firstborn child… Fuck the economy, fuck it right in the ass with a pinecone!” The lout snapped at his betters.
“Ever been to the Economy’s house for dinner? Ever had a conversation with Economy?” He demanded of the gathered nobles; who, in turn stared at duchess grace, expecting her to silence her pet. She just smiled and continued tootling her flute softly in the background, playing along with the strange little children.
“The stupid ‘Economy’ is just a way to measure human interactions, but you shits are using it as a euphemism for human bondage and slave trading…” The big naked madman snarled at the lords and ladies, with his bare ass up on the edge of the pool.
“You can’t ‘win’ the economy, or worship it. It isn’t a god, but it has a cult… a really shitty one, you clowns are all in it. Your whole way of life, your wealth and power all come from the ‘stock’ you buy, trade and sell. Since my brothers and sisters are the slaves in question, we’ve decided to make some noise.” The hooligan’s tone was a bridge too far for some of the more conservative lords, despite her grace’s tacit approval of his shenanigans.
“When trade stops and each domain must fend for itself, what then, boy?” Count Louis sneered.
“You’ll figure out something… if you are worthy of the power and authority you claim is your divine right. You just gotta find a way that doesn’t involve fighting your battles with slave soldiers.”
“Now look here, boy!” An older lord with an elaborate hairstyle began huffing up a full head of steam, even while his pompadour deflated in the bath. “We are nobles of the realm, not some gathering of…”
“Pipe it, geezer. You’re fussing and complaining ‘cause you won’t get a chance to buy my brothers and sisters as slaves this year and send them off to fight in the mud and blood… Boo fucking hoo for you.” Gary snapped at the soggy, naked lord. “You wanna complain, complain to the gods, cause they fucked it all up.”
“Duchess Sheng, this is unbearable!” Villaneuva complained, as he made his way toward the edge of the pool. “I will not be addressed this way by a common orphan!”
“Count Louis Villanueva, meet Gary Ward, apprentice Adventurer… and also, duke Belen’s new mad wizard.” She announced with glee. “Infuriating, isn’t he? Now sit down and soak your wrinkled arse.”
Duchess Grace glared at her gathered nobles and snorted. “I’ve been duchess twenty years now, fifteen as a widow managing this realm alone… in that time each of you has sought to halt my program of reform in the orphanage, just as each of you has complained and gossiped about the warriors I choose for my guard…” She gave each lord and lady a moment of her undivided attention as she spoke on.
“That is why you were all selected for this very special evening. We have a dirty little secret… all of us here. The uncomfortable fact that our society runs on the slave trade has spilled out, like a tipped chamberpot… now we must address what we have spilt all over our shoes.”
“Your grace, I must protest!” Countess Esterhaus bleated loudly.
“Protest away, the council is mulling the case and its judgment will come soon. For my realm… Reform is coming whether you like it or not. Going forward, I see no place for private warbands in the hands of merchant speculators.” She smiled coldly. “That stain will be cleansed in short order, I think.”
“Your grace… many of us rely on privately held Adventure bands to secure our domains… I myself have a contract with the Herkimer Company for that very purpose. What will become of my arrangements?” Baroness Dale stammered abruptly.
“As for nobles who lack their own warbands… you may choose to hire free Adventurers, or petition the ducal guard for aid, once your current contracts have expired.” Grace said with a smile.
“...Toy Soldiers instead of real warriors…” Someone scoffed just a little too loudly.
“Yes, my sweet warriors have been called that, so be it. My Toy Soldiers will be your shield and sword in any case… best you all learn to live with that fact.” Grace said sharply. “I brought you all here to see and meet a few of the people we blithely sell and trade daily… in hopes of easing this painful transition.”
While Grace spoke, the group of young people and children she was keeping company with, had emerged from the pool and dressed in robes. They filed into the house quietly, taking their music with them, as the three tiny kids had never stopped playing. They still drifted around passing the lead from instrument to instrument, noodling in a soft murmur of pleasant and idle sounds.
“Consider what you have heard and seen tonight. You will find your clothing has been nicely warmed and dried while you bathed… our hosts are off to bed, so my beloved ‘Toy Soldiers’ will be serving us for the rest of the evening.” She sang happily.
“I have fantasized so often of how I would implement these steps against the resistance of the council and my own vassals.” She murmured confidentially to the group of stunned and confused nobles.
“I never imagined it playing out this way though… Associating with mad wizards has numerous benefits.” The duchess played a simple country air on her dizi, twirled the flute merrily in her fingers and smiled at her vassals.
“Come along now… there will be a ball at the palace in two days. That barely gives you enough time to plot and scheme.” Grace ducked into a robe of her own, spangled with jasmine flower stars on deepest blue silk. “Hurry up and get dressed.”
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