The cave is not really a cave, more a weathering of rocks in exposed strata, with a suitably large overhang which, if it were raining, would afford ample shelter…
By the time we have arrived on the scene, the three companions have a merry fire going and are lounging back, contemplating the movement of the flames. Hy-Jinx is softly tuning her mandolin and humming to herself, composing something in her mind before letting it fall to her tongue. She nods to herself, clears her throat and strikes up a discordant twang, her face twisting into a rictus, her voice more of a screech than her typical alto:
I’ll sing you a tale of horror
A tale that’ll quiver your bowels
I’ll sing you a tale of horror
‘bout a monster that hisses and growls
Hy-Jinx pauses momentarily, her eyes narrowing to slits, looking between Madeleine and Hood for a reaction. Realising the futility of this intention, with one masked and the other cowled and hooded, she continues anyway.
My friend went down to the water’s edge
To a body just floating and free
For his comrade had drowned on a curse-sed ship
And was washed up dead by the sea.
But the curse it had followed the body
With a thirst and a hunger for more.
And as he was trying to resuscitate her
It rose from the sea with its claws
And there was I on the cliff top
Screaming and waving my hands
‘Behinds you!” I call as it rose eight feet tall
Its feet sank firm in the sands
At the phrase ‘eight feet tall’ Madeleine turns slowly to Hy-Jinx as if to say ‘really?’ - a gesture Hy-Jinx acknowledges with a shrug.
But my friend was from Arkanthor
From the wizarding towers of old
Nine years had he spent a-studying
And it’s these years that helped save his soul
Quick as a flash with a weave of his hands
He turned and muttered his spell
And launched forth a ball of phenomenal flame
That sent that vile monster to hell.
Now it burst into flames all whispy
Burnt til it could burn no more
And once its body was crispy
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I plucked this tooth from its jaw.
Aye yes this thing with which I strum
This thing that I hold in my hand
Is a vampir’s tooth and a trophy
Of the monster that died in the sand.
So you better make sure that you pay me
For this song that I’m singing ain’t free
And this tooth still wants its victims
An’ll have ‘em if I don’t get my fee.
Needs a bit of spit and polish but that’s a guaranteed money earner,” Hy-Jinx says, obviously pleased with herself. “A monster, a bit of excitement, not too horrific for the ladies, and a suitable amount of threat and intimidation at the end. Perfect,” she says earnestly, placing her mandolin back by her side and sitting back contented, watching the light from the fire’s flames dance gently.
“Yes, it’s just a pity that there are fewer and fewer establishments where you’re welcomed, otherwise you could make your fortune!” replies Madeleine dryly, staring in interest at the vampir’s tooth that Hy-Jinx is using as a plectrum.
“Well, yes…there’s no denying that. It’s just…I get carried away is all…” Hy-Jinx says ruefully.
Hood’s eyes narrow and he slaps his fingers twice against his palms in a gesture which seems to say: pass me your mandolin here for a moment.
However Hood does it, Hy-Jinx intuitively understands and obediently offers Hood her instrument. Hood takes it carefully in his hands, examining the workmanship, turning it over in the firelight. That it seems to weather the weather without instance, and miraculously remains unscathed when bouncing down stairs, has piqued Hood’s interest. After a moment he murmurs something and passes a hand across the strings of the mandolin. As he does so a faint ethereal light begins to glow around it and what look like glyphs of pure energy hover a few inches above its surface. Hood nods his head and passes the mandolin back to Hy-Jinx as the glyphs begin to fade. “Cursed” he whispers.
“You’ve cursed my mandolin!” Hy-Jinx says incredulously.
Hood shakes his head, and clicks his tongue in consternation.
Realisation slowly dawns on Hy-Jinx. “Oh…Oh! Well, that would explain a lot! It’s always been cursed!?”
Hood wobbles his left hand and his head slightly as if to intimate that ‘cursed’ is probably too strong a word. He takes from his backpack a charcoal stick and a piece of paper and scribbles something down before passing it to Hy-Jinx. Hy-Jinx turns the paper this way and that, flips it over, holds it up against the light from the fire, before turning to Hood with a quizzical expression. “I don’t get it - what’s it supposed to be?”
Madeleine’s mask turns from surveying the fire to staring at Hy-Jinx. “Can’t you read?”
“No. Why? Should I?”
“It’s a skill, I suppose…I can teach you if you’d like?”
“What’s the point? I have other skills.”
“Well, you’d be able to read that for starters.”
“Why, what’s it say?”
“Exactly,” Madeleine retorts as if her point has been made. “Here pass it over…”
Hy-Jinx passes the paper to Madeleine who turns it over in her hand.
“It says ‘Morvin’”
“What as in Morvin’s Mandolin?!”
“Evidently.”
“But that’s impossible! …And that would mean…”
Hood starts to chuckle, a strange rasping laugh.
“What’s so funny?” asks Madeleine
Hood just points at the mandolin, points at Hy-Jinx, and then gestures with both his hands expansively, as if tracing the path of a rainbow from its centre, giving the impression that what-ever effect the mandolin has is just an amplification of Hy-Jinx’s original nature. Madeleine sort of understands…
“So that means it’s not really cursed but simply makes you more you?” she asks Hy-Jinx.
Hy-Jinx nods morosely “It means that if I were a romantic at heart, then when I played and sang, people would swoon and fall head over heels in love…I guess it shows the true nature of the musician that plays it.”
“But everywhere you go you leave a trail of destruction behind you!”
Hy-Jinx looks depressed.
Hood begins to laugh again, points at Hy-Jinx and surprisingly speaks once more, a single whispered word between rasping laughs: “Mischief!” a whisper he repeats again as he stabs his finger towards Hy-Jinx: “Mischief!”
Hy-Jinx’s facial expression begins to change somewhat, the corners of her mouth upturning into a suppressed smile of pride…”Yeah,” she says, “who am I kidding!”
She stands giggling and does a strange jig of sorts, wiggling her bum, before turning a cartwheel and tumbling onto her back in a fit of laughter which stops abruptly. She pushes herself up onto her elbows:
“Oh I forgot to tell you. You might find it slightly difficult.”
“Find what difficult?” asks Madeleine.
“Getting into Kera’Bur”
“And why is that?”
“Well, there’s a war going on,” Hy-Jinx nonchalantly explains.
“What?!”
“Well, war might be a slight exaggeration but the barbarians from Anghorka descended upon the city about three nights ago, just when I was leaving.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us?”
“Well it slipped my mind, you had Guild business. I thought that more pressing.”
“Indeed.” In the flickering firelight it looks like one of the eyebrows on Madeleine’s mask has raised somewhat.
“What? It was an oversight is all.”
Madeleine’s mask turns back to the fire and she sits, contemplating the flames for a few moments before turning to Hood.
“If what Hy-Jinx says is true, it may be best if we split up. Although quicker, the roads could be dangerous. Why not take the leisurely route in via the Sa’Bur - there’s a boat house about a day and a half walk from here. It’ll give you time to rest. We’ll meet south of the city in four days time. There’s a shore line after the Darry Gorge I’ll meet you there once I’ve checked out what’s happening in Kera’bur, and we can make whatever plans we need.”
Hood understands that Madeleine and Hy-Jinx have additional duties to perform and masters to answer to. Understands that his presence in these situations would not be acceptable. He contemplates the suggestion and nods slowly. A little quiet time would be a nice way to relax. He nods again, yawns and closes his eyes. His hands, folded across his chest, gently rise and fall to the rhythm of his breath.