Season of Bloom - 17. Smith's Scribe

“An amurrun, a kobold, and a strange hooded figure. How curious.”

Faes raised an eyebrow at the dark haired gnome, only somewhat impressed. So he recognized Lapis as an amurrun and not beastbrood. It was common knowledge in most of Garundi. Still, this Narthropple was surprisingly well travelled. Or well read. Both even?

The area around them whispered with the flow of the Skunk River, Faes grimacing at the sight of one of the creatures it was named for. It was still early in the day, still somewhat dark out. The flame flickered on Faes’ hood, providing much needed light for Linzi and Valerie, though he, Lapis, and Kiba needed no such light to see by. Maybe they needed to look into ways for Linzi and Valerie to see in the dark.

The half human shrugged the thought off as the gnome turned his inquisitive gaze upon Valerie and Linzi.

“And two faces I never expected to see again. I do hope the baron is well. It seems he is unfortunately absent from this meeting.”

“Baron Cassiel found the dwarven outpost you told him about,” Lapis spoke up, drawing Jubilost’s gaze.

“Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll grab my things and you can show me the way. I am assuming you have been there of course; there wouldn’t be much use in telling me it was there without visiting it yourself,” Jubilost scoffed, grabbing a bag from near a campfire. “As for the rest of my things… oh no bother, I suppose I’ll just send someone to collect it all later.”

“Hold up gnome,” Faes frowned, stepping in front of the smaller man. “There are a few changes. One, Baron Cassiel is baron no longer. This is Lapis. You owe him the respect due to a baron. Two, you will travel with us, and you will travel light through the bog. I don’t wish to spend longer than I have to in this place.”

The gnome drew himself up indignantly, spectacles flashing in the firelight.

“Respect?! I am respectful of those who earn that privilege. And certainly neither of you have earned it,” he scowled.

“My mother always said respect has to be given before it can be returned,” Lapis frowned, looking between the two.

“And how exactly does an amurrun of the desert become the baron of a patch of bog in the middle of nowhere?” Jubilost demanded.

“I don’t believe you’ve earned the answer to that, Master Narthropple,” Faes smirked.

“Oh? Perhaps you haven’t heard. I’m planning to write a report on the Stolen Lands. My readers would no doubt be very curious about a mysterious amurrun who rose to power after the previous baron of three months vanished without a trace,” Jubilost leered.

The hollowborn’s jaw twitched, his violet eyes narrowing in pure fury.

“I’m sure they would love a story like that. A shame they would never see anything like that,” he said tightly.

“No, indeed not. Especially if the amurrun in question were to adequately explain his role in all of this.”

“I was Baron Cassiel’s adopted son,” Lapis interrupted the two. “He died searching for your fortress, and we had to finish clearing the trolls out instead. I was confirmed by Lady Aldori only a week ago, and am exploring the lands in search of anyone who needs my help. This is my friend Khemet, and that is Kiba on his back, consul to the Sootscale tribe. I am eager to keep peace within my new lands, and would appreciate it if any report said as much. I apologise for Faes; he is a little hot tempered.”

Faes had to hand it to the amurrun. He was a damned good liar. There was nothing that gave him away, not even a twitch of an ear or tail. Lapis taking charge like that was a little upsetting for the hollowborn, but he needed to rein himself in. He had specifically chosen not to be the baron. Like it or not, Lapis was in charge, and the cat was going to do his own thing occasionally. Faes just needed to make sure they would all survive the outcome.

Jubilost frowned, looking over at Valerie and Linzi for confirmation of the catfolk’s story. Linzi nodded quickly, while Valerie wore her usual scowl. Faes figured it was the best he was going to get from her. Hopefully the succession would be a forgotten matter, and Lapis’ rule would be unchallenged.

“Well, I must say I am sorry for your father’s death. I didn’t realize Baron Cassiel was old enough to have a child, adopted or otherwise,” Jubilost frowned.

“He was well over thirty years old,” Linzi supplied. “Halfbloods don’t show their age as much.”

“That is true, I suppose. Shall we be off then? If Master Faes wishes to return home, we best not keep Master Faes waiting,” the gnome scoffed.

The hollowborn gritted his teeth, but let Valerie lead them across the river and along the southern road.

Word travelled fast. When they entered the new village of Omestra in the southern Narlmarches, the people all bowed to Lapis. Even the inn offered them a place to rest free of cost. It was a far sight better than trying to sleep on a soggy patch of mud, and the amurrun took the offer gratefully, promising that neither Khemet nor Kiba would cause trouble. Faes was another matter entirely.

Dawn came slowly in the bog, and the adventurers rose even slower. The village inn was tiny; they had been cramped in a single common room to sleep, but Lapis was not about to complain. Free lodging was scarce in his travels, and he took any shelter happily.

A woman accosted them as they left the building, boldly stepping between Lapis and the village exit, where a group of men were already at work building a wooden wall.

“Praised be the Perfect Human, for he has granted me the chance to speak with you,” she exclaimed cheerfully, a distant drawl difficult for Lapis to place.

He eventually settled on Vudrani; the Perfect Human ascended to godhood there, or so he had heard.

“I am Shaynih’a, but you can call me the Tulip, my lord. All my friends do.”

“You worship Irori?” Lapis asked curiously.

“Indeed. Praise to the Perfect Human. I have been long awaiting this meeting with the baron of these lands, and here he has seen fit to grace my presence,” the Tulip beamed.

“Who are you?” Linzi questioned.

“I am a traveller from the Impossible Lands of Vudra, led here by the will of the gods, by my love for adventure, and by the promise of retribution from my husband, who has become a masterful sage and a dead man. I had no doubt my road would take me to a ruler who could aid me, and here at last you are!”

“I wonder, did your husband die of natural causes?” Faes asked.

The Vudrani ignored his comment, her attention focused entirely on Lapis.

“How exactly can I be of service?” Lapis asked.

“I find myself with a dilemma, o worthy one. For by becoming a master smith, I fear I have neglected the tales of my travels. Most wondrous tales, the likes of which none would have heard of here before. I seek a writer, but not just a writer, a masterful writer, who could record my stories, that my mind might know peace. I have witnessed Master Chokhek, master of tattoos, cover an empty space in ink so as to make a human come to life. This I have seen, for have I not woven the threads of the story myself? Perhaps I shall be the muse for some great writer. If you could find one, I would repay you most handsomely.”

“Jubilost, don’t you have several books you have written?” Lapis asked, looking at the gnome.

“Indeed? Let me see how well versed he truly is. Perhaps this esteemed opium inhaler shall enthrall me with the depth of his knowledge and words,” the Tulip beamed. “Lend me your ears, o worthy opiumist, that I might-”

“Now hold on just a moment,” Jubilost scowled. “Why do you call me that? Who came up with opiumist?”

“Er… isn’t every learned man an opiumist? So many learned sages in Vudra inhale the fumes so as to detach themselves from the lowly impulses of the world to better work their scientific endeavours. I noticed how empty your eyes are and-”

“I have never inhaled anything, nor do I ever intend to!” Jubilost snapped indignantly. “Furthermore, I find it untenable that an entire caste of so called ‘learned’ men would willingly subject themselves to substances in order to lose their minds.”

“It is as true as the fact that the black genies can outrun the rays of the sun which are fatal to them. Trust me, for I have seen this with my own eyes,” the Tulip insisted.

“It seems to me that you are just spinning these tales out of your head. I very much doubt they have anything to do with your actual travels,” Jubilost scoffed.

“Truly your story is incredible, Shaynih'a,” Lapis said politely.

“Hmm. Perhaps I am not as good at telling stories as I thought,” the woman frowned thoughtfully. “After all, putting the past into words is not as good as witnessing the events themselves.”

“Exactly!” Linzi beamed suddenly. “That’s why I’ve been writing things down as I go along. The notes help me remember. Though… if you can’t write, I suppose that wouldn’t help much.”

“No, I cannot be as perfect as Irori, at least not with words. Perhaps I should turn back to weaponsmithing. It is where I could achieve true perfection. If, in your kindness, you could indulge me a workshop, then I could achieve such wondrous works, your eyes would be amazed. Although, this all reminds me of this one story…”