CH 6 - Do you accept this Crimson Inkcap?
The drawing of the stones initiated and the drums slowly sped up, the Keng’s torchbearers weaved among the tables. Each one held a hopper that was ceremoniously decorated with the Eastern Warrens tarantula sigil, the abdomen, and limbs made of jet, set in the silver so abundant to the region. The torchbearers would place the end of the hopper into the cupped hands of each of the nobleborns. By pressing the plunger on top of the hopper, one of two things would plop into Warrenkin’s hand. Either a normal stone uniformly shaved down on all sides or a precious gem; both identical in shape. There were several gems spread out across the hoppers, whoever received them would make up the wedding party.
Elnn cupped both hands around the end of the hopper when Greth came by him. He saw Greth make eye contact with the Keng, who responded with a twitch of his cheek. Greth leaned the hopper at an angle when he depressed the plunger, and Elnn knew instantly that they had rigged it for him, most assuredly he now held a worthless stone in his hand. He confirmed it by pressing down on the edges of it, still hidden by his palms, any warrenkin could easily discern the difference without looking. He swore under his breath and grumbled about not being able to pick up his glass of ashwine since his hands were preoccupied with the ceremony. You were not allowed to reveal the contents of your palm until the end.
“I didn’t even get a chance to have bad luck Malthus, that’s how bad my luck is,” Sighed Elnn. Malthus didn’t reply though and Elnn elbowed him out of his five-mile stare. Malthus startled, then quickly clasped his hands together tighter remembering the ceremony. He had stopped sweating and his face was white as chalk.
Malthus whispered to Elnn under his breath, “I have one, I have a gem.” Elnn immediately threw his head back and started laughing. People around the table looked at him, disregarded him as drunk, and then turned back to watch each torchbearer return to the Keng’s throne.
“Trade with me Elnn,” Malthus pleaded.
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“Are you kidding me? This is your chance, Malthus. You could win back your sept’s honor, hell you could start your own sept,” Elnn shook his head, disbelieving what a moron Malthus was for not taking this opportunity.
“Sometimes the party members don’t make it,” Malthus whispered, “Plus the Keng has a good reason for me not to.” Elnn thought back on Malthus’s last comment. Malthus was the last male heir of his sept. His uncle had died in the sorties against Keng Rontel when he first assumed power and Malthus’s elder brothers had died of lung rot five years ago. His father was well into his years and could no longer produce children. He had the onset of the same lung rot as his sons and his torch would surely be quenched soon enough. Adoption was rare and in most cases, the connection would be refuted; only the name and none of the titles would be passed on. Malthus Degweil’s sept would be no more unless he survived and a son after him, which freed up his holdings to be distributed as the Keng saw fit.
“Give it to me,” Elnn commanded more than suggested. Malthus stared at him for a moment then gave him a slow solitary nod and turned away from Elnn. He shifted his hands around his tankard and got ready.
Then a miracle prophesized by the Rat Keng hundreds of years ago occurred. Each person at the feast received a named quest.
[Do you accept this Crimson Inkcap?] - Teglayen Rockniss is of age and promised to Keng Brelt. Your task is to ensure she makes it to Keng Brelt and the wedding ceremony is completed.
OPTIONAL: You may seek Teglayan’s hand in marriage for yourself, bypassing Keng Brelt’s claim.
At first, everyone paused to read the notification they had all just received, and then pure chaos broke out. People started yelling all at once, demanding what this meant. Greth started praying loudly to the Rat Keng along with a few of the other religious warren-kin, “Please Rat Keng, have pity on this hallow world! We serve you in darkness and this is how you repay us? With the foretelling of the end of cycles!”
“Greth, shove a mushroom in it!” Bellowed the keng, “My warren-kin remain calm! No one leaves!!!”
Elnn had already pulled Malthus up by his armpits and skillfully weaved out the door. He dodged a thrown cup on his way out, but it wasn’t aimed at him with much accuracy.
Elnn smirked as they stumbled from the banquet hall, “The tastiest mushroom is always on the sheerest ledge.”