Ch: 95 Rocks And Places Less Soft
Bannock snuggled deep into the pillowy cloud of bedding, even more comfortable with nearsister Herlick, softly snoring alongside.
Her warm and stable presence made this place more tolerable for poor Order. His restless turmoil left the young warrior unpleasantly alert as well.
Escaping the chamber without disturbing Herlick was a challenge. Things usually cut the other way, with Bannock waking to find some mischief afoot, or a boy snuck into their quarters for a fumble or a tumble.
Out in the common room, The Boy was just coming down stairs, dressed in workman’s clothes. Bannock fell in behind him, marching in formation, despite wearing a robe and fluffy monster slippers.
They were pink horsies with wings and unicorn horns today, tiny castanets made clippity clop sounds, if one stepped just so. Bannock couldn’t resist making them sound off. It was just too much fun.
“Hey, I’m headed down into the lab, work to do. If you wanna ‘supervise’.” He grinned and Bannock nodded, each secure in the knowledge that his arts were too bizarre for the young knight to understand. They were both satisfied with that balance. Together, they passed through an unremarkable sliding door and down a simple stone staircase.
“Very well. I understand you are something of a tailor, might I borrow some space to…” A wide smile of pure satisfaction spread over the angular knight’s features, easing the tension and set of their jaw.
Even Order settled a bit, in this place of neat and tidy organized madness. It was all pools of deep, comfortable shadows, bright task lighting and pleasant warmth.
A fully equipped forge puffed and chuffed away in the corner. Complete with the giant red haired smith, stripped to the waist giving some large iron object a real hard time. Some occult trickery allowed only a faint rhythmic hammering to get out into the rest of the chamber. Yet she could hear the smith’s happy greeting.
“Morning! Is coffee ready?” He asked in that quiet voice of his.
“Too early man, two hours til first bell. Shai’s making breakfast today.” He sat down at his bench and waved Bannock towards another corner of the vast space.
“Have fun Bannock, use whatever you want, my orphans are keeping me stacked up with stuff. Give a kid half a chance, see what they will do for you. Ya might be surprised.” He chirped happily as he began carving at a block of some hard substance with a tiny buzzing tool.
Bolts of cloth and skeins of yarn were hung on pegs or stacked in neat cubbies all around the western side of the madman’s workshop.
Wool, flax, cotton, spider and mundane silks of every color stood in neat rows and columns, sorted by utility and weight. Feathery soft angora yarn started the far end, while leather and metal chain mesh began to intrude on the other side. In between lay a vast choice of colors and textures. Not a full tailor’s shop, but certainly more than enough for an active adventurer…
“You have many fine and sheer silks and gauzes, Gary. Who tatts your lace?”
“I do it myself, a friend from out of town showed me the art… she’s very good with silk and lace.” He said, over the soft whirring chime of his machine, cutting a very hard, pearly shell substance.
Bannock had a small work in progress in their fingers, a slippery, shimmering bit of nothing, with the most extraordinary stitching and lace of honey gold. The design more than implied a rosebush and beehive swarming with delicate bees, against a backdrop of honeycomb lace in rich golden silk.
“So thin and wispy, I can’t imagine what it will be, but the work…” The young knight was turning the small, rounded triangle of cloth over and around, trying to make sense of it.
Clearly finished, or almost so, it had soft silk ties dangling from the corners and joining at a smaller but equally ornate triangular scrap. A nearly identical arrangement, with two rounded fabric triangles and ties sat nearby. The needle work and design matched perfectly; they had to be part of the same arcane construct in progress... This mystery only deepened when Bannock held the grouping up and asked Gary.
“I can’t imagine what this will be…” They read the label dangling from the larger, two triangle unit, just a single word.
“...’Secret.’ Is it some experimental medical device? A magical field tourniquet?”
“Uhh, yeah, that’s it…” He stammered, while the big smith began to giggle like a child. “It’s for controlling localized high blood pressure in males…” That made the smith nearly wet himself for some reason. He skittered off, turning bright red and went upstairs.
He returned with his tiny blonde girlfriend shortly, while the sorcerer was still evading Bannock’s perfectly reasonable enquiries.
“I am a fully qualified field medic boy, you may trot around with lady Trelawny of the golden scalpels, but I am no rube.”
They swished the flimsy contraption at him, and waited for an answer, impatiently. “His grace instructed me to supervise you. I suggest you show me how this artifact is used before I have to pull rank.”
Ivy’s musical laugh cut the tension. “Bannock… come with me, I’ll show you how it works… Tallums… come along…” Her smile was so cute and innocent.
The madman shuddered as the trio went upstairs with ‘The Artifact’. It was Ivy’s anyway, commissioned by Tallum. Which made it Tallum’s in the long run, Ivy should probably wear it though.
Gary got back to work, sculpting a few tiny parts from a thick sheet of magical mollusk shell. Every flake and particle that flew from his tool sparkled in a myriad of otherworldly colors as they fell, like shooting stars in his basement.
#
“Perfect.” He whispered, as a high clear note rang out sweet and clean as springwater. He shut the second case and strode upstairs, feeling like… at least mostly, a new man.
First bell sang out and like the opposite of a starter’s pistol, things got super mellow… Shai was in the kitchen, radiant and glowing, with all the windows flung wide and the window boxes in spectacular bloom. Sunlight showered in, golden and perfect, as the kids in their pjs tumbled down stairs with Becky in hot pursuit.
Time slowed down, like cold honey, crystalline and amber. Cricket song, the rustle of bat wings, joyous birdsong and the crackle of a frozen pond in mid winter became a whispering voice from sunlit vales beyond time and space.
‘This is what you earn, for your struggles. Savor this time, life is fleeting in mortal realms. Sweet birdsong only lasts for its season and is stilled. Every song has an ending.’
“Don’t be such a downer Beast, I got plans!” He sang, cheerful as a lark. The little family at the kitchen bar smiled and shrugged as he spoke more nonsense. They had little attention to spare for their companions in the common room, debating something excitedly.
#
Bannock escaped the room and adjusted their collar. “Thank you, that was… educational. An explanation would have been enough.”
Ivy leaned against the doorjamb and smiled in pure pleasure, her robe gaping open carelessly. The golden confection she wore underneath seemed to glow against her tanned skin.
“Would you rather Tawny modeled it for you? Or Tallum? Hey Lover, come try this on for Bannock.” Her only answer was a giant paw, reaching out from the doorway to snatch her up.
“Eeek! You monster!” She giggled, while fumbling to close the door.
#
Herlick fell in with Bannock, marching out of habit. “You Ok, you look a little flushed.”
“Fine, fine, everything is fine. A young woman just modeled some… clothing at me. This house… it is an assault on the senses.” Bannock turned a richer shade of pink and kept walking.
“Modeled clothing at you? One of these kids?” Herlick chuckled and adopted a cooing infantilizing tone. “Did big bad Esperanza show you her tittynipples?”
“No you child, It was Ivy, the young wizard… I found an item in the workshop… I thought it might be dangerous…” Pink became a rich crimson, all the way from hairline to neck. Bannock seemed to radiate heat, warming the corridor they lingered in.
“This I have to see!” She wheeled and marched down the hall to Ivy’s room grinning, while Bannock called to her.
“Stop, don’t, they are probably…”
Herlick slipped into the room with a light knock… and then right back out, looking flushed herself. She closed the door. Firmly. Until it clicked. Then she took the fluffy pink ‘do not disturb’ butthole off their door, and placed it on Ivy’s.
“The least I can do.” She said. “That girl… she’s tougher than she looks… and more flexible. I’ll ask about the dangerous clothes later…”
“That impressive?” Bannock asked, enjoying the War cultist’s discomfort.
“I wouldn’t face that lance in the lists. A woman ‘unhorsed’ by that weapon might not rise to joust again. That girl has the courage of a knight.”
Herlick skillfully transferred her embarrassment to Bannock with a little verbal martial art.
“Liam now, that lad is a warrior through and through, you can tell by the haunches, just like a good charger. A taut’ round rump is the surest tell, in men or horses.”
Their conversion carried them into the common room, where a few late risers were lingering.
“What about Liam’s haunches knight Herlick?” Tawny asked dryly.
Herlick was undeterred, she looked Liam right in the eye, over a late breakfast and laid out her theory.
“It’s about thrust to rump ratios, factoring in a baseline agility and making some general fitness and training assumptions, you can see that the roundness of the rump is directly proportional to the power of the pump.”
#
Gary and Shai showed up at some point, one of them conjured a chalkboard and a long, bone tipped pointer for her lecture on the relationship between a shapely ass and cocksmanship.
“So we see, Even if we assume the mean for girth and length, friction is still king, that means…”
Slowly, they realized that music had been building behind them all along, strange and bouncy, with a passionate intensity.
Cannonball the fiddle cove, ooh la la
With the pork steeple,
If I get you in the loop
When I make a point to be straight with you then
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
In lieu of the innuendo, in the end, know my intent though
I Brazilian wax poetic, so pathetically
I don't wanna beat around the bush
Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo
Four Garys were in the corner, playing instruments and singing a strange song, even by Gary standards. Even more so, since he was standing in the crowd, looking confused.
He waited for the song to end though, that’s just good manners. “Hey… guys? Whatchaaadooin?” He asked the small group on stage.
They smiled as one and struck up a new tune.
We're just tryin' to be friendly, come and watch us sing and play
We're the young generation, and we've got something to say
“Ok, that helps… But I didn’t call you…”
Any time, or anywhere, just look over your shoulder
Guess who'll be standing there
Hey, hey, we're the Monkees and people say we monkey around
But we're too busy singing to put anybody down
“I was asking for that. Ok, let’s try again… Davy, why are you here?” He asked, feeling embarrassed and frustrated by the whole thing. Especially since the duke’s people were watching…
Okay, know what I mean, don't get excited man
It's 'cause I'm short, I know…
They started right up into another tune.
Creature comfort goals they only numb my soul
And make it hard for me to see
My thoughts all seem to stray to places far away
I need a change of scenery
Another Pleasant Valley Sunday
“Sweet merciful gods… Davy, Micky, Peter, Mike, back in my shadow. We are going to talk about this.” He shivered as they vanished in a sweet smelling cloud.
“I’m trying to make a good impression for the duke’s…” Gary stopped talking to his shadow for a couple reasons, first because that’s weird, second and related to the first;
“When did I start worrying about what the duke’s people think, or what’s weird?” He asked Shai,with a worried frown on his face.
“All right, enough about Liam’s sweet ass, let’s talk about this Port Clement job before the kids come back from storytime with Otho.”
Bannock took the floor and scrubbed all of Herlick’s highly explicit diagrams away. “Does my butt really have dimples?” Liam asked before they got started.
Dannyl strode up to the chalkboard, stole a stick of chalk right out of Bannock’s hand and sketched a remarkable portrait of the young warrior’s backside that took Tawny’s breath away.
“It’s like it’s right there…” She switched her gaze from the real thing to the chalk sketch several times. “Liam, drop your pants and stand just like so… don’t look at me like that, this is art!”
“Let the record state that Liam has a sexy ass… all in favor?” Gary demanded, suddenly standing behind a podium, welding a gavel whose hammer faces were decorated with a pair of boobs on one side and a shapely ass on the other.
The motion passed without dissent. Gary clapped his buttgavel down on the bench firmly twice. “This proceeding of the Torso versus Tush committee is adjourned. A bouncy evening to you all.” He proclaimed.
“Can we talk about the job now? Bunch of dilettantes, easily distracted…” He caught a pillow to the face, mid complaint, that started a whole thing. When the pillow fight was over and a terrible wreckage of plush and velvet cushions was cleared away, Bannock got back to work.
“The cultists you captured had no information of value, they did have a blank scroll bearing the official ducal seal of Port Clement. That means, either someone close to the duke is compromised, or they have a copy of his seal.”
“So what’s our part in this caper?” Gary asked, while fishing a tiny tiny pillow out of his boot “It’s my holdout” He explained, as he dropped the doll sized bed pillow, complete with a crinkly label printed with nonsense onto the table.
“Julius Rummel, duke of Port Clement is young, unsure in his power and in awe of duke Belen. You are to distract, confuse and if possible, delight the people of the town... While the actual investigation team finds out how the seal was either accessed or duplicated.”
“Uh huh… so we are supposed to clown around and make asses of ourselves.” Gary took a deep breath in and tried something new, being reasonable.
“We are kinda on a clock here, we can’t spend a month shucking and jiving for the duke, some of us are going to go up for auction this autumn.”
“On that front, we may have some good news!” Otho chimed in from the bar.
“A guild official is on their way here to check your badges. Some thumbnail calculations suggest that journeyman Adventurer rank could be closer than we hoped for at least some of you. We hope to receive word of them soon.”
Gary scratched his jaw and nodded thoughtfully at the old man. “I’m going to be working this new stuff out for a while… A road trip sounds nice, that way we’ll be someone else’s problem and a moving target. I’m on board. We have a motion on the table. The duke’s Port Clement job, yae or nay?”
The response was underwhelming. Becky, Dannyl and Ivy were ambivalent, Shai was going on a road trip one way or another, she had that look, ‘where’ seemed less important than ‘somewhere new’. Tawny was all about it and Liam was all about Tawny.
All eyes turned to Tallum. “I uhh, I have a lot of work backed up… can I skip this run?” He asked, in that quiet booming voice.
“Sorry, if Tallum stays, so do I. There are some projects Amicus wanted us to work on with him at the college too. Real research… We are digging into those crazy non magical rituals of yours.”
She blushed and grabbed her giant’s hand. “Feels like I’m breaking up the band…”
“We’re a family love, nobody breaks this up.” Gary pressed a small silver band on Ivy’s palm. “The key to my heart. Wipe your feet before you come in.”
“Gary, were that yer damnable soul ring? Ye hae learnt tae pick me Pockets! hae ye?” Shai glared at him, as he tried to be very small, over in a far corner.
“Aye, tis meet that they should hae a way tae speak wi us, an great need arise…” She grumbled.
“Dinnae be all willy nilly tramping about, an ye guard that ring well! I’d nae hae some pilfering magpie fluttering about me boy’s soul.”
“Knights Herlick and Bannock, I trust you will be discreet with regard to rings and souls. My friend is facing metaphysical dangers enough already.” Tawny spoke softly but with clarity.
“Lady Trelawny, after one morning in that boy’s workshop, I would fear to tell any tale of this place, lest I be thought moontouched.” Bannock was always earnest and calm, on this they were earnester and far morecalmerer.
“I literally have no idea what they are talking about, so sure.” Herlick grinned until her dark, shining cheeks made her eyes nearly vanish. “Road trip!”
#
Becky found Gary near sunset, off in a shady corner of the garden, having a conversation with himself.
“I get it, but we need to keep it low key, you guys take a lot out of me. I need you to be subtle, spooky, mysterious. Dio, Ziggy, you guys are in charge. Deano, you get first ride along, keep it family friendly, my kids are around.”
“Gary, who are you talking to over there? Some of your ‘new friends’?” Becky called softly to her mad brother.
He jumped guilty, looking all around before he spotted the young priestess in her concealing robes. “Everythings fine… it’s all fine.” He stammered, looking feral and ready to flee.
“It’s ok, Thirp told me some stuff, you aren't going crazy.” She said softly, easing closer to his shadowed bower.
“Don’t tell Shai, but I need Tawny, or Axio, or one of the dryads… Maybe Tallum and the other boys too, in case I get rough… I’m hearing their voices…”
A quiet clanging noise sounded from his little hole in the greenery. His spear came clattering out, landing on the pavers at her feet, followed by his new baton.
Shai’s murder shovel flew out next, a number of knives and daggers, half of a broken sword and so many hammers and chisels, they began to form a mound at her feet.
“Nothing sharp, nothing pointy, get Shai to wrangle the kids somehow. I’m gonna stay right here and keep an eye on all these shadows.”
“Gary, it’s ok, step out of the dark, come on.” She crooned. “Let me call Shai, we’ll get you all fixed up.”
“Nonono! If i’m losing it, you and the kids and Shai stay away. Axio… he can help me. I just gotta figure out a way to do it so that I won’t come back…” He gibbered to himself.
Gary was sitting on the ground, against the back corner of the garden wall, shrouded in a tunnel of bamboo and flowering ginger, rocking back and forth like a metronome.
“Ok, High priestess time.” Becky sighed. She pulled a stool from her robe’s Pockets! and sat down with her harp. The young woman plucked and strummed a simple swaying melody. With a physical effort, she reached way down into her lower registers and began.
Like the wallpaper sticks to the wall
Like the seashore clings to the sea
Like you'll never get rid of your shadow
Bro, you'll never get rid of me
His toes were tapping as he fell into the rhythm and started singing along, unable to resist.
Let all the others fight and fuss.
Whatever happens, we've got us!
A legion of shadowy figures pressed in from the edges of the bower, creeping in from the darkness. numberless hands came reaching out, tugging at his shadow.
The enchantments in Becky’s harp cracked and snapped as her fingers plucked into the bridge. Slowly, carefully, she sorted through the grasping, plaintive shades and found the ones she knew.
And now to repeat what I said at the start (me and my shadow)
They'll need a large crowbar to break us apart
We're alone but far from blue!
Before we get finished, we'll make the town roar
We'll make all the late spots, and then a few more!
Becky decided she liked these two, they seemed fun. “Guys, can you find Starman and the other one Gary was talking to when I came over?” She asked softly, while playing their song. “I need their help.”
The two shadow figures evaporated and were replaced moments later by a vaguely familiar apparition and a figure unfamiliar to her, he felt right though. Her smile made her two new friends seem a little more real too… so real she heard their names on the wind.
“Sammy, Deano, thanks guys. Could you keep Gary busy for a while. He’s had a rough week.”
She settled down with the much more solid figures to have a very frustrating chat.
“I heard him put you in charge… Ziggy and Dio?” They nodded Gary’s head, sort of. Starman was slim and blonde but very Gary, with red face paint and spiky hair. He strode around in absolute confidence, wearing skin tight leather of flaming scarlet.
Dio was even shorter, but less slender, with long spiraling curls and a receding hairline. A fierce beak of a nose stood out from Gary’s features, above a smile of radiant and ferocious rebellion, the way a king wore a crown.
All in black save for a white ruffled shirt, open to the navel and a purple cape, he held a shining silver scepter and had a small drum at his waist.
“Can you two help me get him some space? They can’t push in on him like that, he’s kinda broken…”
Starman summoned Gary’s guitar and smiled happily.
He's told us not to blow it
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile
“Right. Ok guys, get to work.”
Gary, Sammy and Deano were doing fine, sitting together singing strange songs and not thinking about the press of incorporeal forms all around.
From a whippoorwill
Out on a hill,
They took a new note.
Pushed it through a horn,
'Til it was worn
Into a blue note.
And then they nursed it, rehearsed it
And gave out the news,
That the Southland gave birth to the blues!
“Oh that be a fine beat… will ye tell me whae did all these shades come frae Becky?” Shai asked softly. “Ye kinna bring spirits intae me home, an I dinnae ken.”
“That’s kinda the problem, Gary’s door swings both ways, so he thinks he’s losing control.” Becky said softly, still playing her harp to keep the spirits interested in her as well.
“Scootch in there Shai, the ghosts won’t hurt you, they just want his attention.” She whispered. The smith shuddered as she stepped into the crowd and sat down beside the singing trio.
She took a tambourine from her Pockets! and began to tap and jingle along from his shady cave of shrubbery. She unwound some of Gary’s gifts and started slipping them all into her influence.
Soon, Gary’s teleblaster chimed in, singing high and sharp. His voice joined soon, harmonizing with Shai and his ghost friends in a powerful resonance that shook the small corner of the garden.
All our times have come
Here but now they're gone.
Seasons don't fear the reaper,
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain.
We can be like they are
Come on, baby (don't fear the reaper)
Baby, take my hand (don't fear the reaper)
“Morrigan!” Becky called, firmly, but politely. “Please manifest yourself.” Her harp cut through the mix, taking a solo that requested the listener’s attention, rather than demanding it.
“Druid crafted musical instruments? I have not been paying enough attention… how long has it been?” A big ragged, scruffy looking raven hopped out of the darkness, peering at her with one eye and the other in turn.
She gave a long whispery caw and fixed Becky with one eye. “I sensed you nearby while we Contracted him…” she ruffled her feathers in a dusty cloud and resolved into a sleek, shiny bird with bright eyes and a beak of shining obsidian.
“Ohh yes, lucky fucky Shai… did you enjoy your part in healing him?” She hopped in a quick circle around Becky and cackled. “Barely a wisp of a girl… how did you survive that battle?”
“I be his mate, spirit…” Shai snarled. “Dinnae vex her, tis I am ‘lucky fucky Shai, an tis my boy ye hae afflicted so..”
“Ohh, two women? Which of you had him shave his nethers? Kinky…” She snapped her eyes to the shaded bower. “He’s getting cross… is your throuple a secret?” Her giggling coughing laugh seemed to aggravate him even more. The raven snapped her gaze back to Becky.
“That Ironmonger is a troubling presence, you should dismiss her.” The bird cawed. “This is nothing to be concerned with, only the fragile state of his mind is causing trouble. He might actually be better off for it… too many open doors and windows…”
“Keep yer jokes and filthy talk behind yer beak, I’ll nae hae me sister abused fer yer entertainment, crow.” Shai snapped. “Tis my dwelling place, I hae the choosing of whae be open an shut, I do like that he be a hospitable soul.” Shai said calmly. “An he chooses, we will hae guests over or nae. These are faces I do know, we wil hae no troubles further.”
“Very good, you see the truth, they press close to press him together. Reminding him to recall their names and faces, but mostly their songs. Such a silly creature.”
Morrigan strutted and pecked at a shiny pebble in amusement. “I will be watching with some interest… until he enters my realm.”
“Come Gary, pick up yer tools an toys, we are off tae bed early, Thirp an Becky will aid ye, as will sweet Shai.” She coaxed him out of the bower, pale and drawn, but steady now, he cleaned up the mess of shiny bronze, wood and steel.
“I thought I was cracking up… so many voices at once.” He turned to the four remaining figures, stretching from his shadow into the bower where they stood. “You guys… thanks. Sammy, you get next turn. Dio, Ziggy, see you soon.”
He turned to the two women and smiled his crooked, shaky smile. “They like to hang out in my shadow and look around. They can only look, mostly.”
“Mostly? Whae do that mean?” Shai demanded.
“Well… they are ghosts, they can’t help haunting me just a little…” Evening was drawing the shadows longer in the garden. Gary’s shadow was stretched even longer, climbing up the garden wall.
He stood tall and lean, wearing a shady hat and shaking some cylindrical object vigorously.
He pantomimed pouring some darkling trickle of shade into a tall, stemmed, triangular glass. He lifted it high and drank so deeply that his hat comically fell off behind him. He took a fumbling shadow step to recover his hat, tripped and fell to the ground… into a simple shadow cast by the boy. All the while Gary stood still, hatless and smiling.
“Ain't that a kick in the head…”