Open Chronicles More violence, less violets

[Gromat N'Daego]

(Gromat took comfort knowing that Thaja was somewhere warm and had ample food. Though he knew she wouldn't sleep soundly without his presence he thought it'd be rude to turn down the villagers invitation to celebrate their saviors and so he left her at the barn much to her chagrin. She brayed loudly to him as he left the barn not much differently from a baby wanting attention from their mother. As Gromat at Josai followed their guide around the village he had introduced himself as 'Collin'.)

Gromat: "Ah, much thanks t' yuh, Collin. Ah, and even though Thaja loudly protests I'm sure she's thankful too."

(As Collin led Josai and Gromat to the trophy room, the half orc took note of the impressive ten-pronged elk mount on the wall which automatically drew a whistle from him as it rivaled the skulls of his own village's past kills. At the mention of a bath, and specifically a hot one, Gromat's eyebrows rose in awe. It had been several weeks since he had the luxury of a hot bath. Away from home he had only used fuel and fire to boil water to sanitize tools or purify water for drinking. This was an opportunity he couldn't pass up!)

Gromat: (failing to suppress excitement) "A hot bath you say? Well, that would be nice 'specially before dinner. Wanna be presentable n' wash off the filth o' the road, right? Well then, Joss, if y' don' mind I'll go in first and get m'self clean. I'll let yuh know when I'm done."

(With a hop, skip, and a jump Gromat heads outwards to the bath, Collin true to his word telling villagers to ready the accommodations. For the first time in weeks Gromat happily enjoys a hot bath and enjoys this rare moment to soak a bit. Afterwards he returns smelling faintly of lavender with a comically big grin plastered on his face and was subsequently led to a great hall where the village had prepared a great celebration. Amidst the singing and dancing villagers Gromat spotted a feast fit for nobles. Sampling the various foods Gromat was impressed at both the variety of cooking methods used and the resources the small village was able to procure for it. Eagerly inquiring as to who was responsible for the preparation, a villager pointed over to a middle aged woman.

After a brief introduction Gromat and the woman talked about some cooking recipes. While Gromat gave some ideas for improving or refining the already impressive dishes this led to the village cook questioning the advice as she already had a solid reputation for producing tasty food. She adamantly stated that the dish was perfect as didn't received any complaints from anyone about the taste. Gromat shook his head with disappointment and couldn't tell if her mistrust to his advice was from a source of pride or from one of stigma against his kind.)

Gromat: "Hmph, perfect y' say? Well then, let's make a bit of a contest t' prove that then! Your signature roast boar against my own pork dish. I'll even limit myself to anything I can find 'ere, deal?!"

(As soon as she crossed her arms and defiantly agreed a sudden fire lit in his eyes as Gromat smirked and dramatically reached into his pack to procure an ornate frying pan and then at his belt to produce a well maintained cooking knife. After retrieving ingredients from the feast he then placed his frying pan atop the fireplace, tossing the some logs underneath to get the flame roaring hot. Meanwhile the village cook procured a plate and sectioned off some of the best bits from the roast boar, the cheek and more specifically the ear. Feeling confident as she placed the plate down which has thoroughly satisfied many lords years before she thought her victory was sealed.

With mild curiosity the village cook looked on as Gromat sliced the boar belly into thick strips of bacon before placing the fatty ribbons of meat on the now warming pan, it's fat slowly beginning to render down. Taking an empty bowl he placed the salt, honeyed mead, pepper within and whisked it together with a fork before placing a finger tip in the sauce he placed it to his lips to have a taste before nodding to himself in satisfaction and pouring it upon the now sizzling frying pan. Though breathing hard and sweating now he tossed another log on the fire before slowly reducing the sweet and spicy sauce till it became a syrup and then a glaze upon the now crispy strips of meat then finally taking the pan off the fire and placing it on the table before the village cook who now had a small crowd behind her attracted by the smell and spectacle of Gromat's cooking. It was at this time that the village cook began to sweat nervously as Gromat reached over for some greens from the salad bowl and a new plate to gingerly place the now candied bacon upon the plate and artfully made ribbons with the salad leaves, squeezing a lemon upon them, then laying upon the center where the bacon strips crossed as a garnish and finally placing the finished dish before the village cook and crowd.)

Gromat: (wiping sweat from brow) "Finished! Candied boar bacon in a spiced honeyed mead glaze. Well then, let's try this roast of yours first, hm?"

(Both the village cook and Gromat sampled the roast boar. Confidence returned to the village cook's face as she ate her own cooking. The crispy skin of the boar cheek was prepared with her village's secret cooking technique of artfully separating the skin from the flesh beneath it and blowing air between the two prior to roasting! This led to the skin gaining a crispiness rivaling fried meats however the meat underneath was still moist and needed no knife or fork to break it apart as it was tender enough to fall from bone, more so because it was from the cheek of the beast! Gromat tasted a subtle yet balanced sweet and savory flavor upon the skin which seemed familiar but couldn't help but be befuddled when it crunched like crackling! The ear seemed to be an exaggerated version of what made the skin famous as it was crunchy like a chip and concentrated the flavor of the sauce using in the basting process. Groaning he realized that he still had a lot to learn. There was no mistake, this lady didn't harbor any mistrust of the half orc but just pride in her cooking!)

Gromat: (groaning) "I see now why you're so confident."

(The lady's smile beamed with pride as the crowd sampled the roast boar approving of the familiar flavors before the two cooks sampled Gromat's dish. Upon biting down upon the candied bacon Gromat watched as the village cook's eyes widened, smile falling from her face as her brain began registering a complex blend of powerfully sweet, spicy and savory flavors all at once! She jerked her head back as her mouth and sinuses were assaulted by the now concentrated spice, the heat rushing across her now sweaty face with the might and fury of an orcish horde! As her eyes began to water Gromat couldn't help but chuckle as her face turned bright red and the crowd murmured in confusion.)

Gromat: (raised fist) "Ha! That there is power of orcish cooking! Ya ain't used t' ya peppers pack'n that kinda punch, huh?! A reduction takes whatevah flavors ya got and makes em strongah the longah ya cook it! Orcs don' like weakness or subtlety in our food's flavor or in battle... an' dis is both! Might wanna cut the spice wit' a bit o' the garnish. It'd offset the sweetness as well, I'd think."

(The village cook whose eyes now visibly started to tear up nibbled on the garnish in appreciation. The crowd seeing the effect the food had on their cook curiously sampled Gromat's dish. Their senses were also assaulted by the orcish dish's bold flavors which sent them seeking relief from the heat by eating the refreshing and acidic garnish, much like taking shelter behind trees from orcish arrows fire lit on fire! After they all recovered from the dish, the crowd began to argue about which dish was the best which made Gromat shake his head in disappointment again.)

Gromat: "It's not 'bout which one is better! The point was to acknowledge that food can always be refined, remade and improved. We both had a dish most would consider perfect but as my master once said..."

(Suddenly Gromat speaks with a surprisingly elvish accent)

Gromat: "Fighting styles and cooking recipes are the same. Once you think you've perfected the craft you've then limited yourself from reaching whatever greatness lay out of sight and now beyond reach. Never stop improving as you will learn there is no peak to the mountain we climb."

(The crowd, village cook included, stared in silence at the profound words before someone began to applaud. This resulted in others people joining the act which resulted in a clamor around the half orc who had made some new friends through his master's teachings yet again. The two cooks talked the night away trading recipes and cooking methods which eventually would benefit them and their respective villages... while back at the barn Thaja sadly brayed for Gromat to return. Seeing Syr Josai and Tarid Gromat calls them over.)

Gromat: "Ey you two! Where ya been? You gotta try dis roast boar, an' da candied bacon! I don' think you'll get another chance as it's goin' fast. That an' I'm leave'n in the mornin' so you won't get another taste o' the bacon till next we meet."
Tarid Ra’leem Josai Ranvena

 

[Tarid Ra’leem]

When Tarid arrived, Jurgon’s three sons were busy playing in the same sort of mock-battle he had with his own brothers growing up. When Jurgon called out for them, they ignored the request. Much as he and his brothers had. Jurgon had not lied that the house was chaotic, but Tarid found it to be a cozy chaos.

Jurgon may not have been able to get his boys to behave, but his wife had managed to with the loud report of a struck pan. The sharp sound caused the children to stop still in an instant. The moment they did, Tarid caught their attention and they all turned towards him. It seemed unlikely that this quaint little town hardly got any visitors, and his arrival was cause for curiosity. The scene would be heartwarming, were it not for the dreadful news of they’d arrived to deliver.

“Welcome home, husband. Who’s this then?” his wife asked, prompting an introduction from Tarid.

“Tarid, miss. A squire of the knights of Anathaeum.” he replied in solemn tone that hardly matched the blissfully ignorant smile on her lips.

Jurgon dismissed his sons with a pat on the head, ushering them outside where their little ears would be shielded from the tragic tale they had to deliver. With the children outside and distracted, he began to tell the tale. Tarid left most of the talking to Jurgon. His wife, Sonja, was clearly and understandably troubled, and Tarid thought it best that her husband delivered the news, when it was so grim.

Once he had done so, she appeared understandingly despondent. He provided her comfort, and she stumbled over her words. Tarid simply wore a solemn smile and gave a nod at his head.

“A gift I dearly cherish.” Was his humble reply, before taking his seat at the table and enjoying the homecooked meal before him. Nothing of the sort of food he was used to, but that was the appeal of it. This was a meal cooked with a mother's love, and the evening a glimpse into another culture entirely. Rather than just dinner, Jurgon and Sonja had given him an experience, and Tarid enjoyed that and the company to share it.

The boys were a delight, and Tarid tried to reassure them that he was not yet a knight – but they'd not hear anything of it. They continued to insist, despite his attempts, and their excitement was enthralling. Well, it wasn't like Josai was here, and he couldn't resist making the children smile. After some wringing, Tarid finally relented and began to play up the part, even taking the boys outside for a moment after dinner to demonstrate the battle techniques he had been taught.

Strewn about the yard were the felled branches of trees, that for some time would surely become placeholders as imagined swords for play fighting.

Ranvena Gromat N'Daego Josai

 

[Josai]

Josai gave her thanks to the man who had been so kind as to offer them a place to stay. Then a nod of agreement to Gromat. "Of course," she said with a slight bow of her head.

She stood alone in the trophy room when the men had left. Stared at the head of the dead elk that hung so proudly upon the wall. Its polished stone eyes alight with the crackling flame of the fireplace. She thought of the strange figures she had seen, strewn about the forest. Mangled and mounted. She thought of the glee with which the spriggan had danced. Arms and legs whipped and kicked and sprang, like a child at play.

The Spear Witch lowered her head. The shade of her wide brim hat covered her eyes.

Wrath and vengeance. She had felt it before. Coursing through her own veins. Had felt it sated by the plunge of spearhead, and the hexing of flesh made to wither and dry. Made to turn foul and be undone.

How else could she bring peace to the vengeful? How else could she cease their wailing. Her hands gripped the strong cedar of her weapon's shaft tight. Felt the pinch of her skin and the hard press of her bones.

They had never stopped wailing.

When Gromat got out of the bathouse, Josai was already there outside, waiting with her things. Clothes bundled tight under her arm, a drying towel which kept her modest, and a dead tired look in her eye when he passed her by.

The warmth of the water against her skin. The steam of fire warmed bath wafting up from the water's surface. The scented oil was a luxury she carried with her. And smiled as she poured them in. Plunged herself neath the warm surface, and felt it all take her shape. Warm her. She let out long, ragged breath, and felt the mess of her dark curls tangle about her as all the filth slowly came away.

---

Refreshed, and in clothes borrowed, Josai returned to the festivities. Her dawn counterpart lost, it was on Josai's shoulders now to face the crowd, who sought so eagerly to forget the darkness that crept between the branches of the forest they called home.

Those woods that kept them fed. Bared its game, gave its trees, and surrendered to the axe, flame, and arrow.

"The big beasts the nobles used to come out here to hunt are gone now,"

The Ur beasts. Spirits. Near gods. Prizes and honors and marks of skill and strength to be mounted on walls, worn as cloaks, put into swords.

Josai was glad a man such as Gromat had been here. "Thank you, Master Gromat," she said, with a bow of her head, and took up a piece of the pork. Popped it into her mouth and chewed. It was rude to refuse food made in honest offer. And it was quite delicious.

"Know, Master Gromat, that your aide in this affair will not be forgotten, and that should you ever seek aid of the Knights of Anathaeum, you need only send word to our monastery," She smiled, gentle and composed. Then grabbed up another piece of bacon, popped it into her mouth, and chewed it down. "And," she said with a slight warmth to her smile. "I think there may be a bit of the Dawn in you, Gromat, a bright flame that keeps the cold of winter away,"

Elinyra Derwinthir Gromat N'Daego Tarid Ra’leem

 

[Gromat N'Daego]

Gromat: (while chewing) "The knights of Anathaeum? That's your, uh, whatsitcalled... your Order's name, right? Dunno what'cha mean about the dawn but Thaja usually keeps the cold away during the winter, though she's a bit heavy t' be used as a blanket, eh? I'll make sure to find it. Would be good to have some one at my back I can trus'."

(The half orc shows a mixture of confusion and curiosity as he inquires about the knights and their Order.)
Josai Tarid Ra’leem Elinyra Derwinthir

 

[Josai]

Josai giggled some behind her hand upon hearing Gromat's words.

"Yes, Master Gromat, it is my Order's name," she nod, and let her hand come down to the table. She looked over the pork dish, and snuck another piece.

When she was done eating it, she went on. "Dawn is one of our Sanctums, a school of thought, if you would," she explained. Her eyes fell to the table. She let out a breath, and cool mist formed before her lips.

With her fingertip, she traced a symbol of the sun into the table, and a feint blue light glowed there where she had drawn it.

"Dawn, and Dusk," She drew a symbol for moon beside the sun. "Both work in tandem," she said, and a wistful smile rest upon her face.

No time to think on her missing partner now.

"Those knights who fall beneath the Dawn," she went on. "Oft carry a spirit, bright, warm, inviting," she looked to Gromat and her smile remained, warmer as she thought on the teachings of Dawn. "They are weavers of peace, as well as stalwart shields, and bright flames," she bowed her head, and brought her hand to her chest. "I am a knight of the Dusk," she confessed. "Ours is a path of shadow, cold calculation and the will to drive a dagger point home," she looked away. The warmth gone from her, her eyes steely.

"Should you join us, Master Gromat, it is my hunch that you would be pulled to the Sanctum of Dawn," she nod toward the food, and all who enjoyed it. "Not by any political act, but merely the spirit you so freely seem to share,"

Gromat N'Daego Blessed of the Forest Tarid Ra’leem

 

[Gromat N'Daego]

Gromat: (thinking) "Hrm, a knight o' dawn."

(The half orc scratched his chin contemplating how he would look like as a knight. In his head he viewed a picture of what appeared to be an orc wearing armor far too big for himself with a rising sun behind, all drawn crudely in crayon.)

Gromat: "Alright then, first thing tomorrow I'll head out to The Knights of Ana-thay-oom's base. Headquarters. Fort? Erm... whatever place they call home. Hopefully I'll meet you and Tarry there!"

(Taking the last piece of pork he waves goodbye to Joss, Tarry, and the village cook retire for the night and get some rest. As he returned to the stable a frustrated bison greeted him with a soft headbutt.)

Gromat: (holding ribs) "Ouch! Alright, alright. I'm sorry. Guess I was gone longer than I thought I'd be."

(Thaja responded with a snort and the stomp of a hoof)

Gromat: (retrieving blanket from bag) "I'll make it up to ya tomorrow with some more carrots but for now we gotta go to sleep! Big day of travel comin' up."

(Thaja knelt down beside Gromat who was readying himself for sleep, curiously tilting her head to the side.)

Gromat: (getting comfortable) "I'm gonna be a knight and tomorrow we're gonna go an' join em. I wonder if bisons can be knights, if not you can be my trusty steed. All knights need a steed, right?"

(Thaja nudges Gromat, the tiny movement shoving him aside and nearly out of the comfort of his blanket.)

Gromat: "Anyways... (yawn) ... we've got a big day tomorrow, Thaja."

(Thaja rested her massive head beside Gromat as the day's fatigue made itself apparent, his eyelids closing by the second.)

Gromat: "Big day... indeed."

(As the two finally began to rest with full bellies and in comfort little did they know that this would be the last time they would be able to do so. The obstacles on the road would not only endanger their lives but also test the bonds between them as well.)

Blessed of the Forest Tarid Ra’leem Josai