Ch: 237 Keep Your Hands Off Of My Stack
It was weird, once he made himself at home and stopped giving a warm shit about Krista, the whole ordeal became entertaining. Gary displayed one lurid book cover after another and had a lovely lunch with the most extraordinary floorshow… Lindsey was done with her presumptive boss and was letting it all hang out.
“...not sure how far I can get my boot up you, before the damned geas stops me, but I really wanna find out!” The lightly armored woman with an empty scabbard growled. Her bent and notched shortsword lay propped against the railing nearby, unable to fit in its sheath anymore.
Ivy and Dannyl walked in and immediately got greeted by a stuffed robe that looked to be the alpha nerd in this pack of bean counters. For some reason, those two got taken right over to a desk near the passthrough and delivered to the clerk with Krista’s handprint on his face.
Gary kinda felt bad for the guy, his desk happened to be closest to his own little patch of heaven. He was getting a lot of ruckus, despite not being involved directly… Shai didn’t have an iron owl on her bracelet of charms. Maybe she would have one when he was done here; she wouldn’t have a bronze rabbit or golden stag, if he could help it.
That little guy used a very elaborate gestural language to relay instructions to his goons silently… In a secret language that Gary’s gift, Familiar Stranger, rendered into clear and obvious speech.
The little turd had some recommendations to his staff that Gary found enlightening. ‘Control that Peasant’ and bemoaning the lack of flogging opportunities told the young musician everything he needed to know.
Flogging seemed a popular answer in certain circles it seemed. Sayed Gibbons fit in with Krista just fine, he was the extra wide straw to go with her elitist dogshit milkshake.
By now, Gary was nearly forgotten, as Lindsey and Krista took their battle of words ever closer to a physical altercation… There was a fair bit of wagering going on, so Gary decided to step in with a little nonsense to get things back on track.
Serving lunch to his brother, sister and their new business contact would be a delightful poke in their collective noses. Too bad he didn’t have any fish to microwave… or a microwave. He made a mental note to work on that oversight.
‘You could always use a stinkbomb…’ Ragy whispered in the back of his mind; Gary smiled happily at that minor intrusion.
‘You’re really coming along, brother!’ He thought to himself. There was no more time for self congratulation, his wild berry cobbler was almost done; time to brush the top with butter and sprinkle it with coarse sugar for the last few minutes in the oven!
#
Krista lost focus, as the instigator of this whole, humiliating mess sat down on a stool he pulled from nowhere and began enjoying a very pleasant seeming meal. Leaning over the velvet rope and the oaken railing, he was conversing merrily with two more peasants… and that jackanape, Otto from the Iron Owl! In her rage, she turned and tried to hop over the rope again.
While Krista picked herself up off the floor, she wondered how she wound up several feet in the wrong direction, tangled up in a chair…. Outside the fool’s accursed barrier.
Lindsey seemed both amused by her humiliating pratfall and fascinated by the strange rope barrier that was continuing to confound them. She sidled over, closer to the dining group. “This rope… how does it work? Are you using some gift or spell?” She asked the tall, bland featured man.
“Just unhook it from the stanchion and come inside… sister.” He said with a shrug. “It’ll only keep you out if you mean to trouble me.” He murmured as he handed over a bowl of hot dumpling stew. “I think we’re past that point now, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I give up. You win.” She sighed as the rope unclipped from the stanchion with ease. The lad gave her a wink and nod, as she clipped the rope back on, just in time to exclude the still raging, now bruised and disheveled Krista from the party.
The moment the clip snapped closed, Krista’s shrill voice became muffled and indistinct. She could make out the words if she cared to… otherwise it was a mildly irritating background drone.
“I only ‘win’, when I am allowed to conduct my business and go home to my family. So far I’ve lost three and a half hours here… nope, that’s four hours.” He muttered, as fifth bell sang softly in the town. “I didn’t choose this outcome, your bosses did.” He waved dismissively at the woman losing her mind across the rope and the clerks watching with keen interest all around.
Master Sayed looked like he was at a loss, since Krista was not even listening to herself anymore. “...bury you to your neck in salt and leave you in the wilds to desiccate from the feet up!” She was currently promising.
Gary locked eyes with the woman for a moment, while he savored a particularly well balanced forkfull of wild berries and crisp, buttery pastry. His smile of pure pleasure drove the woman to even greater rage, beyond the muffling rope barrier.
The Fortress Of Soulitude, enchanted tool, barrier construct. Etheric and spiritual enchantments. Rarity, unique, prototype, experimental. Rank, unranked.
Effect: Spiritual Rampart; when installed around a source of etheric magic, this construct will extend the user’s Animus to the perimeter of the construct. Hostile or neutral entities will be psychologically unable to enter, without explicit permission of the user. Truly violent or aggressive intent will allow aggressors to penetrate this barrier. Non sentient beings will ignore all effects, animals of low intelligence will be highly resistant to all effects.
Effect: Good Fences, Good Neighbors; hostile or aggressive vocalizations and displays from outside the barrier will be muted and muffled, allowing user to tune out the noise.
Effect: Backatcha; any entity attempting to penetrate the barrier will be discouraged with illusion and misdirection, until the threshold of violent attack is reached. An alarm will sound when the barrier is breached.
Effect: A Distinct Lack Of Spoons; Barrier construct will appear to be immovable and indestructible to all beings outside the perimeter. Actively hostile intent will negate this glamor and illusion effect.
“This strange rope, that flaming sword trick, all the furniture… You’re that mad wizard the town has been whispering about…” Lindsey said with quiet wonder. “I heard you were making trouble across the sea in Belen territory.”
“I’m just an Adventurer, a silly support monkey, waiting to do some banking… My team, they are the competent ones.” He nodded fondly at the young people across the rope and railing, lunching and dealing with Otto. “I don’t know anything about business, really. I just make musical instruments and little comforts…”
“You are a terrible liar… They say you are a mad, orphan mage who fell from the sky knowing only strange arts…” She said quietly, with her own wild berry cobbler held close and dear to her breast, despite the glares she drew from the rest of the office. The crispy crust, topped with partially melted sugar crystals slipped down into the sweet, purple and red filling, emerging even more tempting and exciting, clad in a robe of shining fruit.
“That you are here now, means… and the duchess sailed in on the pornographer’s new ship…” Wheels were turning in Lindsey’s head, as she did some quick gossip algebra and rumor deduction.
“Belen must have sent you, at the request of the duchess to deal with some strange beast in the wilds…” She whispered. “We’ve all heard about Evard Village and whatever happened on the eastern fringe… those were both attributed to that same mage…”
“Whoa there, my friends and I are independent agents, we’re traveling on business and I had some banking to do…” He said with a grin. “The rest is all your assumptions…”
A distracting ruckus overwhelmed the chaos currently dominating the room, as a small army of people came stampeding in, led by a tiny girl in a blue dress, with two boys right behind her.
The jingle of bells sent a soft and happy sigh through the madman, as the red haired giantess he’d come in with at opening time returned, with more people. This time, including yet another towering ginger and a small, dark skinned girl with her hair in an elaborate plait. That mismatched gaggle swept right by a still noisily dumbfounded Krista and passed under and over the rope barrier with ease.
The tiny blue girl climbed the big fool and perched on his shoulder like a monkey, glaring at the clerks all around. “You’ve been here all day? Ya, shoulda sung them a song…” She complained loudly.
“I promised Shai I wouldn’t. She wanted to stay low key…” He glared at the clerks along with the little girl and her two brothers.
At the back of the group clogging the doorway, an outrageously handsome young man with chiseled features and spiky black hair accompanied a woman in the golden brown robes of Healer’s cult and a scanty white veil… Even Krista fell silent when the daughter heir of Wheatford duchy came in, dressed as a common healer.
Her golden smile and aura of tranquil elegance washed over the room and made it her own with a single sigh of disappointment. Her smile faded as she looked over the scene with growing discontent.
“Who is master of this hall?” She asked quietly, while the peasant family made a chaotic scene even worse.
Only Otto remained oblivious, as he frantically tallied figures on an abacus and made notations in his ledgers. His quiet conversation with Ivy and Dannyl continued unabated, as things kept getting worse around him.
“We at Iron Owl take pride in our transport network. Our focus is on high value perishable goods, as is the case with most of our trade partners. We will make certain your goods will not be lost in some bulk carrier’s hold for weeks on end, touring the duchies pointlessly… as some other trade houses do.” He glanced over at a rival company while making that unsubtle jibe.
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Journeyman Reggie Gannets of the Brass Monkey company was no longer paying attention to Iron Owl’s desk. The clerk with shiny, slicked back hair and immaculate robes from that company, was trying to slip closer to Tawny and Liam, without getting entangled in the mess befouling the waiting area.
Master Syed cut him off, by stepping up and sweeping a bow to the acolyte of Healer and her escort. “I am master of this hall, Sayed Gibbons of the Sublime guild of Bankers and Accountants, of the Golden Stag company, at your service, lady Belen. How may I assist you?”
“You may assist me, by explaining why members of my household have been waiting here all day for your… attention… They have other duties to attend to!” She turned to her escort, who’s impassive face and light armor said he was her bodyguard even more clearly than his Adventurer’s badge. “Liam, be a dear and get me some tea from that refreshment table please.” She murmured fondly.
“Yes, my lady.” With a slight bow, he strode off to the nightmare in the corner, while master Sayed began making excuses furiously.
“We are having a minor… inconvenience with a common orphan at the moment, lady Belen. Please, follow me to a private conference room where we can…” His heart sank as her man swiftly returned with a tray and a smile on his absurdly handsome face.
“Lady Belen… Is that man… one of yours?” He asked softly, while watching the big, bland featured man play with his gaggle of children, making a mockery of this guild hall.
The red haired Giantess had taken over the madman’s stove and was jiggling her hips in very distracting ways, as her army of orphans and waifs took over his hall.
“No, he is not indentured… it would be more accurate to say he is my friend and companion… and a member of my household.” She answered coldly. “A member of my household who has been absent from his duties all day… awaiting your guild’s attention.”
The lady Belen and master Sayed were of a similar height, neither one were going to be getting things off the high shelf unaided… yet she loomed over him, seeming to dominate the lofty chamber with sheer personal presence.
“This makes me rethink my own investments with your hall…” She murmured with an air of mild disappointment that burned and tore at his merchant’s soul like hot pincers. “Perhaps my family accounts need attention as well…” She mused thoughtfully. “I’ve oft wondered why we have no Bankers’ guild hall in Wheatford…”
“Lady Belen… certainly this misunderstanding…” He began, through a sheen of sweat that made his robes cling and bind abominably.
“Misunderstanding, you say?” She asked, just as mildly. “What was that we heard as we walked here from the palace, Liam?” She asked her escort.
“A shrill female voice raised in anger, Lady Belen, If I may quote a few choice passages…” He drew a notebook from his robe and thumbed a few pages in before he read, in a calm and clinical voice.
“Again, these are not my words, simply what I have jotted down, my lady.” He murmured with an embarrassed glance at his pages. She nodded so he read aloud. “Here we are… ‘I will purchase your contract and sell you off to some island lordling with a taste for young boys…’ Disgraceful, but I hear such things do occur, my lady.” The young warrior said with distaste.
“Hmm, go on Liam, master Sayed still seems to believe this is all a misunderstanding, what else did you overhear through our little toys?” She said with a brittle smile.
“Something about using him as a mounting block and boot scraper… a bit of the usual threats of flogging…” The young warrior flipped a few more pages. “Our poor lad seems to have been more than patient with you.”
“Oh my, that does seem to clear up your proposed ‘misunderstanding’ rather neatly.” She had a sad look on her beautiful face now, almost mournful. “My family has been doing business with this hall for so many decades now… Oh well, such things can’t be helped.”
Her smile returned a moment later, when her man poured the tea. “Oh marvelous…” She sighed vapidly, while the eyes of a golden bird of prey peered over her veil, at the very uncomfortable master of the guild.
“Please prepare the transfer paperwork, master Sayed, my father will have it sealed and notarized before the feast of Light…”
She paused, as her smile brightened even more. “I’d almost forgotten, it’s just a few weeks away! We simply must do something to commemorate his first birth day…”
The beautiful woman and her beautiful bodyguard sighed fondly at the brown haired loon and his small pack of brats. “They grow up so quickly…” The warrior murmured happily.
“So true, sweet Liam, so true…” She sighed just as fondly, before returning her predatory gaze to her prey. “My good friend Shai will be doing a little banking here, she will also be transferring her assets to another guild hall, I think.” She glanced over at the giantess, who was making a custard of some kind on the insane man’s magical stove…
“Yes, she shall certainly be moving her resources after this debacle.” Tawny sighed sadly. “Well, that concludes my part in this…” She trailed off expressively, letting further words of disapproval remain unspoken.
“Liam, please lead me to my brother’s quarters aboard the ship… I would like to salvage something from today.” She paused for just a moment to twist the knife in Sayed’s bowels. “He will probably want to transfer his own assets as well I suppose.”
Sayed’s soft moan of despair was sweet music to her ears as she departed on Liam’s sure and steady arm. “Gary really never played any music, nor incited them?” She whispered to Liam as they walked.
“It seems he did not… how odd.” Liam murmured softly. “I wonder if he has truly recovered from… whatever he did with those bizarre artifacts of his.” They walked in contemplative silence to the waterfront, where Esperanza’s Bounty was moored alongside Moonrise, sharing a pier.
Esperanza and her crew swarmed over the smaller ship, investigating every nook and cranny of their old home and contemplating their own ongoing refit… “Liam, where is Shai’s boy… this one would bargain for some of his…” She looked around the bustling dockyards in a very suspicious way. “You know…”
“He’s been delayed at the Banker’s guild…” Liam offered diplomatically.
“This one should have warned them, our clan does not bank in Port Sunderland… It is a great trial.” The buxom captain remarked, as she swung down from the low rigging. “Perhaps the Merchant League should address this deficit… Ducal patronage might serve to speed the formation of a guild hall in Wheatford…” She smiled winsomely at Tawny.
“Don’t bother heaving those things at me, Esperanza… I’ve already made preliminary arrangements. Honestly, we are the only ducal seat without a branch of the Bankers’ guild…” She reached out carelessly and swatted Liam on the shoulder. “Gods, Esperanza, I asked you to stop heaving those, you’re going to give Liam a stroke…”
Esperanza’s eyebrows began to bounce up and down, while other things continued bouncing as well. She began making an unsubtle hand gesture and winking in a lascivious manner…
“Gods, above, that was just an unfortunate… Rolf! Hello!” Tawny cried, while Liam tried to gather his wits. Esperanza tried to stifle her rude and suggestive hand motion, while stilling her weapons grade bodice stuffers. She managed neither one well and wound up pantomiming a particularly intimate act, directly at the young knight and his two companions for a moment or two.
“Ohh! Is that what you do with those?” Ester asked cheerily. “Angie hasn’t enough to manage that… Wouldn’t it get in your eyes?”
In the deathly silence that followed, Tawny could feel the radiant heat of primal, almost explosive embarrassment rolling in waves from her younger brother.
She basked in that glow and savored each glorious moment, until Esperanza giggled and sighed. “If one plays the game correctly!”
Rolf turned about and disappeared down the hatchway in complete silence, leaving Angie and Ester on the deck. “That was lovely, thank you Esperanza.” Ester sang happily. “Falco was right, you are good at men.”
“Falco! What are you telling this girl about me?!” She demanded of her chittering, splashing familiar. “It had best be spicy and salacious!”
“Esperanza… Please stop helping Ester and Angie torture my brother… Angie, Ester, Liam, come along, we need to all have a long talk about… things.” Tawny dragged them all below decks with a sigh. “A pity Annie is off with Khan and Luna… she’s always so sensible.”
#
“Come visit at the orphanage when you’re off work Lindsey…” Gary called out behind him, as the family hustled out the door. Shai had her business done finally, he’d cleared away his stuff and Ivy had made some kind of arrangements with the fellow from Iron Owl.
Back on the late afternoon streets of town, he felt cranky and constrained.
“I haven’t really seen much of this town and I already wanna hit the road.” He grumbled.
“Soon, lad, an twill be just a few aboard. Annie, Luna an Khan do stay here fer the fishing. Rolf shall stay fer the Angie an Ester… They shall ship back wi Esperanza methinks.” Shai had Wilf, curled up in her arms and fast asleep, the others rode Gary, Amy on his shoulders and Rio in his arms.
“We missed naptime…” Rio yawned his words, displaying all his teeth in the process.
“Me too.” He complained to the brats. “Oh… is that a second hand shop?”
The tiny girl gave his ear a gentle tug to keep him on track. “Home.” Was all she said, the rest of Amy’s communication came in the form of ear guidance after that.
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“Gunny, why are we miles out to sea?” Frank asked calmly, when the storm cleared away.
“Storm winds, milord. We sailed out in deeper waters, lest we be thrown ashore. Port Fallon be six miles southeast, should be in port by full dawn.” He answered, his weathered face sagging with exhaustion.
“Forgive an old sailor, Milord… t’was an unseasonable storm. We’ll resupply and set out for Wheatford before midday.”
They sailed in through the outgoing fishing fleet, the small yacht cutting easily through the calm waters under Gunny’s steady, weathered hands. They kissed the public dock and the old coot was off to the races, dashing furiously over to the chandler’s, before hiring a couple stevedores to haul water and supplies.
While the old man was scampering along, Damsen and Paisley came on deck, from below.
“I’d always heard that Port Fallon was a smelly place…” The young woman stretched and took a very shallow breath.
“Port Ellis’ reputation is well earned… Lady Damsen, will you require further assistance? We seem to have reached a parting of the ways.” Frank said with deep dissatisfaction.
“I will not impose on your hospitality any longer, Sir Pangbourne, lady Paisley. I will take my leave. You have my gratitude.” She intoned solemnly. She stepped onto the dock with great care and strode off into the docklands, the music of her harp still lingering in her wake.
When the old coot came huffing and puffing back aboard, Frank caught the hurried seaman by his shoulder and slowed him down with physical restraint and soft words. “Easy friend, my journey is not so urgent… Lady Emma will be in Wheatford for a week yet.”
“Beggin yer lordship’s pardon… I’m an old man and would like to see an heir to the house… before I go to meet our ancestors.” The sailor replied testily. “Yer a bit late on that milord.”
“Gods bite you man, I’m twenty four years old!” He grumbled sourly.
“I rather like the prospect of being an auntie…” Paisley sassed from the fordeck, she was leaning on the bowsprit, watching Damsen finally vanish down the busy docks, no doubt seeking a ship heading to Port Sunderland.
“First I must get the measure of this girl you’ve taken a fancy to. We can’t let just anyone rifle through the family jewels.”
“Too late for that my dear sister…” He sassed right back at her. “She’s had a chance to appraise the valuables and seemed to like what she saw.” He kicked back against the rail and grinned like a tremendous asshole, daring her to continue the battle.
“I’m just a child, for Joy’s sake!” She scolded him in mocking tones of mortification and ladylike horror. “You can’t just say things like that around me!”
“Sister, you’re seventeen, not twelve… and I know you found mother’s secret collection of filthy books two years ago.” He winked at the poor girl, while she changed colors a few times. “Nothing I could say would shock you at this point.”
#
Sandpiper seldom took passengers, but Captain Javier liked this robed musician… something about her music felt strangely familiar. Her melodies reminded him of that magical night, at that inn near Port Ellis…
They had returned a scant week later and found no sign of that inn, anywhere up or down the coast. Weeks later, they had heard the tales of the vanishing inn and its fae, magical wanderings.
“Do you know of the mad wizard and his vanishing inn, lady Damsen? Your songs remind me of his…” Captain Javier turned to his second mate, perched halfway up the foremast. “Pietro! What was that mad musician’s name? The one from that magic inn?”
“Larry, I think! Larry Wood!” The burly sailor shouted down.
“Nae!” Seamus shouted from the topman’s nest. “Shai Ward was her name… Shai and Gary Ward!”
“I do not know these people… but that name has been mentioned before… I shall certainly watch for them on my journeys.” She replied in a very neutral tone of voice. Her music had a heavy, thunderous quality, ominous and dark suddenly. “I fear I shall almost certainly meet this musician you speak of.” She fell into her music and brooding while the small ship set sail into the wide green waters of the Shallow Sea.
Once again the song floated from her fingers and lips, unbidden and unknown; seeming to drift into her mind with the cries of the gulls, in the key of the ship’s soft, moaning thrum.
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm…
Into this house, we're born,
Into this world, we're thrown.
Like a dog without a bone,
An actor out on loan…
Riders on the storm
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