Sunday Afternoon, Fireseek 2, 591 Common Year

Sgt. Apone began his customary shouting once the second squad of Commander Gorman’s company had lined up on the parade grounds before the palace of Westkeep for the afternoon drill, “Now, today, we’re going to do some marching up and down the square! That is, unless any of you got anything better to do. Well?! Anyone got anything they’d rather be doing than marching up and down the square?! How about you Aramek? What would you rather be doing than following my little plan of marching up and down the square?

“Oh I would love to march up and down the square with you sir!” shouts back Aramek.

“Exactly right!” says Sgt. Apone.

Sir Gorman, the company commander who is fully accoutered in the arms and armor of a knight of Keoland, observes from the sidelines with pride in his troops. Soon he spots the two guests of Prince Prospero he had earlier invited to share in his company’s weapons practice coming across the grounds to meet him. Sir Gorman greets them heartily. “I’m glad to see you two. I’d like you both to work with the Sgt. Apone’s squad. Let me introduce you.”

Commander Gorman calls out, “Company, fall in!” The squads all rush from their current positions and line up by squads before Commander Gorman. “Atten-hut!” All the troops snap to attention, staring straight ahead, feet together, and arms at their sides. “Present arms!” All of them as one draw their shortswords and present them, except for the cleric in one squad and a fighter/mage in another squad who each present a longsword and Aramek who presents his staff. “Parade rest!” They all sheathe their weapons and step out with their left foot and interlock their hands behind their backs, except for Aramek who puts his left hand behind his back and extends the staff in his right out slightly with the base of it on the ground.

Sir Gorman says to the company, “I want to introduce to you two guests of Prince Prospero who have kindly accepted the invitation to work with us today. I trust you will show them all of your strength and skill, as they will show you theirs. This is Gar Dragonsbreath, a priest of Obad-Hai. And here is Fingol son of Ragnbjorn, a member of the King’s Rangers.”

Commander Gorman continues, “Sgt. Apone, I’d like them to work with your squad. Company, Atten-hut! Fall out!”

With that, the company breaks formation, and their squad leaders take them to different parts of the parade grounds where targets for archery practice have been set up. Commander Gorman introduces Fingol and Gar to Sgt. Apone, a young man who nevertheless radiates confidence and professionalism. Unlike most of the others in the company, Apone has the dark complexion, dark brown eyes, and curly black hair of the Flan tribes. Once introductions have been made, Commander Gorman heads off to check on the other squads.

“Well, it is an honor good sirs,” says Sgt. Apone. “Let me explain our usual custom here. You see we have set up seven targets there about 50’ away. Everyone in the squad including myself, and now you two gentlemen, will take three shots with their favored ranged weapon. Every bull’s-eye will get you four points, hitting in the inner ring will get you two, and hitting in the outer ring will get you one point. We tally the scores to rank everyone from best to worst. Ties are resolved by a second set of three shots, but the target is moved back 50’ more each time. After the rankings have been determined by archery, we pair-off for hand-to-hand combat according to those rankings. Each warrior will face off against the warrior immediately below him or her in rank. For our purposes, even the clerics and magic users assigned to work with the squads are treated as warriors. Now in the hand-to-hand, unless I say otherwise, everyone may use a padded wooden replica of his favored weapon. Spellcasters may use spells as long as they are non-lethal. As you can see, we have clerics of Heironeous and St. Cuthbert on standby in case anyone gets seriously injured. Now, since you two are guests, we’ll let you go first. Let’s see, I guess I’ll take my shot along with you two, and now… ah, Aramek, Dale, Kash, and Ferro. Next will be Vaskez, Noch, Drake, Rain, Frost, Hadsyn, and Hex.”

Fingol and Gar step up to the mark with Sgt. Apone and the others.

Sgt. Apone takes up his longbow and hits the middle ring, then a bull’s-eye, and then the middle ring again.

Dale gets a bull’s-eye, then the middle ring, and then the outer ring.

Kash misses with his first shot, then hits the bull’s-eye, and then hits the middle ring with his last shot.

Ferro misses the target with his first shot, but scores two bull’s-eyes in a row after that.

Fingol hits the outer ring with his first shot, the bull’s-eye with his second shot, and then the middle ring with his last shot. He is pleased, for he did not expect to do so well, and indeed he had been feeling very out of sorts since his arrival in Westkeep.

Gar goes next with his slingshot and misses with his first two attempts. On his last try he hits the middle ring. Some snickering can be heard from the ranks, but Sgt. Apone gives them the stink eye and they quiet down immediately. For his part, Gar hurls his slingshot to the ground and stomps on it, muttering, “Damn gods!”

Aramek, with his light crossbow, gets two bull’s-eyes in a row, and then hits the middle ring with his last shot. He seems satisfied with his score.

Sgt. Apone shouts out, “Halt! Clear the range!” Several squires run out and clear the arrows from the targets and then rush off the field.

After the archery range is cleared of arrows by the squires, Sgt. Apone shouts again, “All clear! Group two, step up!”

Vaskez gets two bull’s-eyes in a row and then hits the outer ring with her last shot. She steps away with a hearty oath.

Noch steps up, and with a look of intense concentration, manages to sink three shafts into the bull’s-eye one after the other. He steps away with a satisfied expression on his face.

Drake gets two bull’s-eyes in a row and then misses the target entirely. He also steps away with a hearty oath.

Frost hits the middle ring, and then gets two bull’s-eyes in a row.

Hadsyn hits the middle ring, then scores a bull’s-eye, and then hits the outer ring.

Hex gets three bull’s-eyes in a row, and he exchanges a high five with Vaskez afterwards. “Don’t get cocky,” warns Sgt. Apone.

Rain gets a bull’s-eye, and then hits the middle ring, and then another bull’s-eye. She steps away with a brief smile.

Once Fingol, Gar, Sgt. Apone and his squad had their first turn at the targeting range, Sgt. Apone arranges for several of them to resolve their ties by taking another three shots each. Noch and Hex go up against each other with the targets moved back to 100’. Once again, Noch scores three bull’s-eyes. Hex misses the target the first time, and then scores two in the middle ring.

Rain, Frost, and Aramek are next as they all tied in the first round. This time Aramek hits the outer ring with his first shot, but misses entirely with his next two shots. He steps away mumbling, “I’m better than that.”

Frost hits the middle ring with his first shot, but then misses the target entirely with his next two shots. He steps away shaking his head in disgust.

Rain scores two bull’s-eyes in a row, and then hits the middle ring with her last shot. Again she steps away with a brief smile.

Drake, Apone and Ferro are next among those who tied in the first round. Apone misses with his first shot, then gets a bull’s-eye, but then misses again with his last shot. He steps away with a scowl.

Drake gets a bull’s-eye, but then misses the target, and then another bull’s-eye. He seems pleased with himself.

Ferro misses the target twice, and then hits a bull’s-eye. He grins after the last shot.

Finally, Dale, Hadsyn, and Fingol are up again. Dale scores a bull’s-eye, then the middle ring, and then another bull’s-eye. “Alright!” he shouts and clenches his fist in triumph.

Hadsyn scores a bull’s-eye, then the outer ring, and then the middle ring.

Fingol hits the middle ring, then misses, and then hits the bull’s-eye with his last shot. He stops to congratulate the others after their rankings have been sorted.

Once ranked according to how well they did at the range, Sgt. Apone pairs everyone up for hand-to-hand combat. Squires bring over padded wooden versions of shortswords, daggers, and other weapons, and they strap padding onto those using quarterstaffs.

First up is Noch vs. Hex. As per the custom they begin 30’ away from each other with weapons in hand. As soon as Sgt. Apone shouts, “Begin!” Noch lunges forward, ducks under Hex’s clumsy attempt to ward him off and jams the point of his wooden shortsword into the overlapping sections of Hex’s cuirass. He steps back as Hex falls to his knees in shock, coughs up blood and then pitches face forward into the mud.

“Oh gods Hex! I’m so sorry!” cries Noch.

Sgt. Apone yells “Cleric!” and a priest of Heironeous along with a couple squires hasten over to the fallen man’s side.

Hex is soon patched up, and Noch hovers around him saying, “I’m really sorry Hex. I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.” There is a note of insincerity in Noch’s apologies however. It is as if he is just saying these things because he is expected to say them, and not because of any genuine concern on his part.

To Sir Fingol, Gar says, “Hex hacked, Noch is a real charmer, he is.”

“It’s just an unlucky Hex,” Fingol replies.

Gar laughs.

Aramek leans over to Rain to say, “He’s sorry? Hah – he meant to do that!”

“Yeah he did. We need to watch that guy,” responds Rain.

Next up are Rain and Frost. Rain, strangely, begins with her dagger in her right hand and her sword in her left. They begin circling, looking for an opening. Rain is the first to make a move, stepping hesitantly in towards Frost. Frost charges forward but in a flash Rain hurls her wooden dagger at him and at the same time throws her sword towards her now empty right hand and deftly catches it and brings it into a low guard prepared to defend against Frost, but Frost is already down, sprawled at her feet after the dagger hit him squarely point first in the nose. Sgt Apone calls the duel in Rain’s favor, not that there was any question. Rain offers her hand to help Frost up, which he accepts. She smiles at him, not something she does often, and asks, “You ok?” This is her way of saying ‘sorry’ and she means it. He nods affirmatively, though his hands are holding his nose, and it is plain to see that blood is trickling through.

Aramek goes up against Vaskez next. Aramek seizes the initiative and rushes in with his staff, but Vaskez easily spins away and Aramek almost loses his balance. He recovers quickly and is able to leap back away from Vaskez when she swipes at an opening in his defense with her wooden shortsword. They circle around for a bit feinting and striking, looking for an opening. Vaskez is the first to exploit one and she drives her sword past Aramek’s staff and into his stomach. The blow seems to be resisted by some invisible barrier, but Aramek still feels enough of the force of the blow to have the wind knocked out of him. He falls to the ground, out of the fight. Vaskez helps him to his feet and back to the sidelines.

The next fight, between Sgt. Apone and Drake seems more evenly fought. Drake seizes the initiative at first but his sword only strikes a glancing blow against Apone’s cuirass. Apone doesn’t even flinch, but Drake handily parries his counterattack. They circle some more and then as one they strike against one another. Drake ducks down and tries a cut at Apone’s extended right leg but the blow rebounds off the hard leather greaves. Apone’s slashes down from above but is knocked aside by Drake’s gauntleted left hand. The angle was such that Drake’s hand was unhurt. The two warriors back away quickly from one another and begin circling again, feinting and testing for weaknesses. Apone steps in to strike but Drake jumps back and then leaps in again with a counterstrike that likewise misses as Drake jumps back himself. More circling and feinting and testing follow. Then Drake lands a blow on Apone’s helm and then swiftly backs off. It was a solid blow but Apone shakes it off and makes a lunge himself. This time he is able to strike a solid blow against Drake’s cuirass at the fold of the sections. Drake backs away but now Apone has seized the initiative again hammering blow upon blow down on Drake who struggles to parry and dodge away. Then Apone lands another solid blow upon Drake’s helm, and Drake sinks to the ground, sword dropping from his right hand, his left raised to signal that he yields. Apone recovers the fallen sword and casts it aside and then helps Drake off to the sidelines.

The next fight, Ferro against Dale, ends more quickly. Both rush in at each other, but Dale parries Ferro’s strike and as Ferro’s sword is knocked away Dale strikes at his torso. Ferro foolishly tries to block the blow with his left arm, but Dale’s weapon strikes him squarely on the elbow. Ferro cries out in pain and backs off, “I yield!” he cries. A cleric comes over to check on him. Nothing is broken, though apparently the shock of the blow, despite the armor, was enough to set off his funny bone and numb his arm for awhile. The bout is called in favor of Dale.

Fingol and Hadsyn are the next to go. Fingol quite chivalrously chooses the wooden shortsword instead of a wooden longsword, even though the longsword is his usual weapon. Hadsyn grins at him stupidly and says, “Doesn’t matter what you choose. Use the longsword if you like, you’re still going down!”

“I warn you; if you bore me, I’ll have my revenge,” Fingol retorts.

Despite Hadsyn’s bravado, Fingol dispatches him with ease. Before Hadsyn can even begin to react, Fingol is on him and brings his wooden sword crashing down on his helm with one swift strike. Hadsyn falls like a felled oak.

The clerics rush over to check on him. He revives after they minister to him muttering, “What happened? Where am I? What’s going on?” Fingol also hovers around Hadsyn in concern, but he can’t help but feel proud of himself for dispatching him with such facility.

The last of the first round of practice bouts is between Gar and Kash. Gar squares off against his opponent with his quarterstaff, now padded, and relying on his chainmail shirt and steel helm for protection. Kash is quicker than Gar expects and within moments his wooden sword is bouncing off of Gar’s helm. Fortunately the helm took all the force of the blow, enabling Gar to step back and point his staff at Kash. Howling winds and stinging sheets of rain pour forth from the tip of the staff, but Kash nimbly jumps aside and circles around Gar who is forced to end his storm burst in order to bring his staff back into a guard position. For several moments the two trade blows, sword against staff, striking, blocking, counterstriking, and parrying again. They back off and begin circling one another. Then Gar backs away muttering some prayer, then with his staff held out in his left hand he points with his right hand at Kash and shouts, “May the fear of Obad-Hai fill your heart!” Kash’s eyes widen in fear, but he grits his teeth and growls then moves in to attack, but his hesitation makes it easy for Gar to dodge away. More determined than ever, Kash shakes off his fears and lunges forward, clipping the retreating Gar’s foot with his wooden sword. Gar yelps in pain, and Kash presses his advantage landing another solid blow into Gar’s stomach. Gar doubles over in pain, the fight completely taken out of him. Sgt. Apone calls the bout in favor of Kash, as the latter helps Gar to his feet.

Laughing softly to himself as Kash helps him to his feet, Gar says to Kash, “Thank you, milord, ’tis better for this lowly priest to be the bottom of the barrel than for you. You have a stout heart and I look forward to you guarding us on our next adventure.”

Kash gives Gar a gap toothed grin and says, “I’m no lord, good priest, but I appreciate your courtesy. I wouldn’t want to face you in a real fight though; I’m not ashamed to tell you.”

“Alright boys and girls,” says Sgt. Apone. “Now let’s have the top six winners step forward. I’ll exempt myself since I took too long and Drake got in some solid hits on me. So that leaves Noch, Rain, Vaskez, Dale, Fingol, and Kash. We’ll start with Noch against Rain, then Vaskez against Dale, and finally Fingol and Kash. Let’s go!”

Everyone gathers around expectantly to see Rain and Noch go up against one another. Everyone knows that Noch is the best fighter in the unit, for he is an older veteran warrior and blessed with a pantherish grace. Rain, the rawest of the recruits save Aramek, has also proven herself in the practice ring, packing a strength and speed into her small wiry frame than many male warriors larger in size.

“Noch will lay her flat in no time, you’ll see!” says Hadsyn.

“No way,” replies Vaskez. “That Rain is a tricksy one, my money is on her.”

“No betting, people, this is training,” growls Sgt. Apone. You can visit Norebo’s shrine and put money on the fighting cocks after drill, not during.”

Noch and Rain circle around each other. They shift and sway, testing for an opening to exploit. Both have wooden shortswords and wooden daggers, though Noch carries his dagger in his left hand. Rain again has the dagger in her right and her sword in her left. Noch chuckles and says in a cool voice, “You think you’ll be able to use the same trick twice. I wasn’t sleeping during your bout you know.” Suddenly he hurls his dagger straight at Rain’s face but she easily sidesteps the throw.

In a flash, Noch is upon her with his sword and Rain has to quickly backpedal and parry with the sword in her left hand. Gar notices, however, that Noch seems to be holding back for some reason, missing an opening that Gar is almost certain that Noch noticed but refrained from exploiting.

When a bit of space opens between them Rain throws her dagger, or seems to, causing Noch to leap aside right into the actual throw. Again Rain strikes her foe square in the nose with her dagger. Noch drops his sword and yields, his left hand already trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose (the padding on the wooden weapons is not in fact very thick). Noch looks up at Rain and bows courteously to her with a newfound respect in his eyes. A Heironean cleric hurries over to Noch with a cloth to soak up the blood and then apply his healing touch to the wound.

Rain offers to guide Noch off to the sidelines, which he accepts, and she says, “Good match, Noch.”

“I’ll be sure not to underestimate you again,” Noch says with a rueful smile.

Rain smiles briefly at Aramek as she walks back among the rest of the squad. Aramek, grinning from ear-to-ear with pride at Rain’s victory, nods his head slightly and winks, as she looks his way.

The next fight ends more quickly as Vaskez faces off against Dale. They close quickly enough and trade blows that are all parried away, then Vaskez cracks Dale on the right wrist and he drops his sword with a yelp. Sgt. Apone calls it in favor of Vaskez. Dale curses and stomps off to the sidelines. Drake and Vaskez exchange a high five.

Then it is Fingol’s turn against Kash. One of the squires fetches Kash a light wooden shield and a lightly padded wooden longsword to match Fingol’s usual armaments. Fingol is also given a lightly padded wooden longsword. Now evenly matched up they square off.

“I can’t wish you luck, but I wish you well,” says Fingol.

“Don’t worry about me, ranger. Be well yourself,” replies Kash grinning his gap toothed grin.

Fingol, as before, seizes the initiative and is on Kash before he can adequately raise even his shield in defense. Fingol’s longsword crashes down upon his helm and Kash falls senseless to the ground. The cleric checks on him and he is soon revived and with Fingol’s help hauled off to the sidelines. Several of the troops are murmuring and whistling in admiration of Fingol’s skill.

Aramek, whose senses are amplified by Snoop’s presence as he skitters to and from among the assembled warriors, notices that Fingol pulls Gar aside to say, “I see the suspicious looking character with the monkey we saw in town isn’t here. And yet, he certainly didn’t fit with the rest of the townsfolk. What do you suppose he was up to?”

Aramek also hears Gar’s reply. “I don’t know but he was full of attitude, and cute. I wonder if monkey boy likes to monkey around? I wouldn’t mind hunting him,” Gar laughs loudly and slaps Fingol on the back in camaraderie.

“Maybe he just spanks that monkey,” says Fingol.

Gar coughs, sputters, and then giggles in delight.

Hmm… Aramek wonders. Suspicious looking character with a monkey? I wonder why they thought he was suspicious looking? And why would they have expected him here today to see us squaring off against each other? And that Gar, he really needs to find a boyfriend or a monkey of his own. Sheesh, I think I’ve been hanging around these people too much.

Rain notices Fingol and Gar’s exchange, but can’t make out what they are saying above the noise of the squad’s banter.

“Would you fancy another bout Sir Fingol?” asks Sgt. Apone. “See if you are perhaps the day’s champion? If you are up for it, go ahead. You can take on either Vaskez or Rain.”

“I’m not sure how much longer my good fortune can hold out, but I’ll hazard the chance. Both fighters seem deadly. Perhaps you should decide.”

“Good fortune nothing, you’re a fully trained ranger and it shows. Hmm, if you want me to choose, well then… I think Rain shall be your next opponent. If anyone here has been lucky, I would say it was she. I want to see if that luck holds, or if not, whether she has enough skill to carry her through when luck runs out.”

“I like the choice! I’ve never fought against anyone with such unusual tactics. I’m excited by the challenge.”

Seeing that Rain has again chosen to go with a dagger in her right hand and a shortsword in her left; Fingol takes up a shortsword and shield.

As Rain walks onto the field of battle to meet Fingol she says to him, “Well met, Sir Fingol. Welcome to Westkeep.”

Fingol returns her greeting while saluting with the sword, “Well met, Rain! I thank you for your welcome. Westkeep is bravely kept.”

Sgt. Apone shouts, “Begin!”

Rain, quicker than Fingol had expected, rushes in on him and casts her dagger from a scant 8’ away. He tries to lift his shield in time but it is too fast and only by twisting his head away does he prevent it from hitting his nose square on. As it is, if it had been a real blade it would have taken off the tip of his nose in passing. Fingol, however, ignores the pain and just as Rain begins shifting her shortsword to her right hand he lunges in, striking it away off the field. It sails off into the watching troops, who have to scramble away to avoid being struck by it. Before Rain can move away, Fingol has the tip of his sword pointed at her throat. “Do you yield?” he asks.

Rain looks up into Fingol’s eyes and smiles, opens her mouth as if to affirm yielding, but instead suddenly performs a series of back flips to the weapons rack behind her at the eastern edge of the circle of combat and scoops up a new set of training weapons, this time with the sword in her right and the dagger in her left. Fingol rushes after her and just as she turns to face him he strikes, but stabs only empty air as she tumbles away from the rack and to his right side. Fingol turns but she is up and stabbing out with her own sword, but the tip of the blade is deflected by one of the metal studs on Fingol’s armor. A furious clash of swords, dagger, and shield follow as all trickery and niceties are abandoned in an all out effort to find a weak point, an opening, or force a misstep. Rain finds it first, however, as Fingol, ever wary of Rain’s dagger, leaves an opening that she quickly exploits, the point of her sword driving into the side of his right knee, causing him to collapse breathless with the pain of it. Fortunately, the knee is only bruised and not shattered.

Fingol does his best to stand up straight and offer his hand to Rain. “Well fought. Congratulations.”

Rain smiles and says, “Thank you Sir Fingol, you fight like a demon. I believe I emptied my bag of tricks that time. I would be most happy to fight alongside you any time.” Rain, of course, allows him to lean on her shoulder to limp off the field. The cleric hurries over to offer his healing touch, and before long Fingol, like the earlier combatants, is feeling good as new.

After helping Fingol, Rain returns to her place on the sidelines next to Aramek. She knows that she did well and was extremely lucky, though she is doing her best to not let it go to her head and act as normal. To the words of congratulations and backslapping of her squad mates, she returns a small smile and murmurs, “Thanks.” To Aramek, though, she flashes a slightly larger smile and a wink.

Looking around to everyone and no one in particular, Fingol says, “Well then, is it too early to drown our bruises?”

Sgt. Apone laughs and says to Fingol, “We should be finishing up soon. We just have some weapons drills to run through, and I need to go over some points with the squad here. Sir Gorman will call everyone together then and dismiss the company for the day, until of course the night shift. Then anyone who cares to head to a tavern with you is welcome to. Are you sure you want to be fraternizing with the troops though? I know you don’t have to maintain discipline around here, but the other knights might frown on it, especially the Cuthbertians. They’re sticklers for protocol.”

“Oh gods! I don’t want to annoy the ‘Cudgels’. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Gar laughs and cocks his head at Fingol, “As if that matters. Some mead to wash the loss and dust out of my mouth would be nice though, but I will leave it to you whether we invite the squad to join us, Sir Fingol.”

“Well,” says Fingol, “let’s go wash this dust out of our throats. Sgt. Apone, where did you say that pub was?”

“I didn’t. That is to say, I didn’t mention any particular pub to you, but just a block or two away from the market on the upriver side of the Processional on Rum Road you’ll find Ruadan’s place, that’s where the knights and clerics go when they’re off-duty – and some of the guild masters as well. It’s a nice respectable place. If you want something a little more boisterous, just head downriver on Rum Road, but don’t go too far down, we don’t want to have to be rescuing you from trouble best avoided.”

Rain says in a low voice to Aramek, “Hey, let’s offer to buy Fingol and Gar a drink at The Twilight King.”

Aramek says, “Sure, but I really do need to make sure everything is okay at home and get some rest so let’s not make this too long.”

Sgt. Apone calls out to his squad, “Okay everyone, take a quick break, then it’s time for weapons drills. You know what to do.”

As the others move off to get some water from the keeps’ well, Rain sees that Gar and Fingol are walking off the field. She goes up to them, ostensibly to talk to Fingol about their bout one last time, but says, “Sir Fingol, might I have a word with you? Aramek and I would like to buy you a drink at, well, not at the watch’s tavern. If you are up for it we can meet you at the Twilight King after this drill is over. It’s on Rum Road just a couple blocks downriver of the Processional.”

“Well, don’t take too long. I won’t feel safe without a bodyguard.” Fingol says with a grin.

Answering Fingol with a smile Rain says, “No worries Sir Fingol, I’m sure Gar will protect you. We’ll see both of you there soon.”

With a grin hidden behind his hand, Fingol, just loud enough to be heard, says, “Well, he’d keep me company if I were into that kind of thing… not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

In a soft voice, Gar pats Fingol’s back and winks at Rain, “He’s just afraid he’d like it too much.” Gar smiles widely.

“Oh man! The girls are just beatin’ me to death today.”

Gar laughs again and says, “And it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

Gar, still chuckling, says to Rain, “That was a great fight Rain. Well done, well done. Sir Fingol here was just pondering how we might get to drink with you two, I do believe.” Elbowing Fingol in jest, Gar continues to both, “If we need any protecting though, it is in Rain’s able hands where we will be the safest. But now it’s time for us to go drink and I’m in the mood for a manly man. Are there any around here?”

Rain directs Gar and Fingol to the Twilight King, a little pub on Rum Road downriver of the Processional and just a couple blocks away from the marketplace that is lakeside of it, and the Riverway (the road that runs along the dock-levees) which is riverside of it. Now Rum Road has taverns and inns for the upper class upriver of the Processional (the road that runs from the docks up to the Keep and Governor’s Palace). On the downriver side it slides steadily from taverns for the working class all the way to really dangerous dives down by the downriver wall. The Twilight King is just about in the middle, an area that is sleazy enough to attract those slumming from upriver, but not so far downriver that it would be suicidal for them.

No one knows why it is called the Twilight King, that is to say no one knows who the Twilight King is supposed to be. Even the proprietor Caliban claims not to know. Caliban is a deformed runt of a half-orc who nevertheless has quite a sunny disposition. His wife, Miranda, helps him serve the customers. She is a drab looking brunette, a little on the heavy side, but it’s rumored that she is actually a beautiful princess under some glamour or anti-glamour as the case may be, and is also the daughter of a powerful wizard. It’s further rumored that she married a prince, the son of some minor king, but it didn’t work out and that she ran away and came to live and work at the Twilight King with Caliban, who had once been her father’s servant. Most people scoff at this, saying it’s a ridiculous story that only a starry-eyed nitwit would dream up. In any case, the real mystery is how they managed to survive unscathed during the Scarlet Brotherhood occupation, though many point out that Caliban ingratiates himself with everyone and managed to amuse at least one of the bands of orcish warriors enough that they made sure the place was left alone. Others say that Caliban and Miranda were actually working for the Resistance. Others again ask, “What Resistance?” In any case, the Twilight King is still around, and it is a place where, also mysteriously, fights almost never break out. Consequently, it is frequented by those tired of more rowdy entertainments and just looking for a quiet place to drink and a sympathetic ear.