---------------Break ---------------
“Oh yes, I’ve made
the trip to the Servinian Wastes. Remarkable land if I may say.
What’s that? Why yes, I’ve spoken with the Countess of Calandria.
Remarkable woman, full of spirit as they say. Excuse me? Rebellion?
No… I really don’t know much about that I’m afraid. Spent most
of my time in the castle.”
Derrek pushed his way
through the throng, emerging from the crush of bodies to where Alec
stood. Aspiring minstrels and bards had gathered about him, listening
intently to the stories that sounded far too familiar.
“And what of the sunken
treasures of the Jade Turtle? Were you apart of recovering those?”
“Derrek!” Alec cried.
He shifted nervously upon his feet, his fake smile wavering.
“What-how did you get here? I thought you wouldn’t be competing.”
“And why would you
think I wouldn’t?”
“Oh, just, you know.
You’re not a real registered member of the College or-“
“And yet here I am.”
“Ah, yes. Here you
are.”
It was awkward.
Alec smiled nervously,
grabbing Derrek’s arm and pulling him away from the throng of
onlookers.
“Perhaps we could spend
more time catching up!” he called. Once they were alone beneath an
arch, he turned the unimpressed man.
“How are… things?”
“Why are you stealing
my stories?” Derrek asked.
“Yes, that. Well, you
see, I didn’t know you would be needing them. So I thought I would
just… you know, assist myself with your material. Like a testing of
it, if you will.”
“And yet, I don’t
recall writing any of them down. You came to my room looking for my
tales, couldn’t find them but there you stood repeating them
nevertheless.”
“Uh. Right. Fancy
coincidence that.”
Alec was swallowing quite
voraciously. He looked like a fish dangling from the angler’s line.
“You’re not
particularly clever,” Derrek said. “Nor is Mikael particularly
traitorous. And I’ve dealt with Mairen in the past. She’s not
nearly this subtle. Who is behind this?”
“I want to tell you,
believe me,” Alec gritted. “But I made a vow of secrecy.”
“Believe you?” Derrek
asked. “You were the one that got me barred from the College
initially.”
Alec laughed nervously.
“Oh that. It’s so
long ago. Water under the bridge and what have you!”
This was getting Derrek
nowhere, save confirming his suspicions of some greater puppet
master. What he need was a more direct tactic. He need an attitude
that would cut through this nonsense. He needed Keirn.
Derrek closed his eyes,
feeling the brush of his muse as he began to channel the essence of
his friend.
His hand reached quickly
for the head of his lute. A few quick flicks of his fingers to
unlatch the concealed triggers and he produced a hidden blade,
pushing Alec roughly up against the wall while the metal bit at his
throat.
“AH! DERREK! WHAT ARE
YOU DOING!”
“I don’t have time
for this,” Derrek spoke, his voice dropping and turning husky.
“Tell me everything you know or I’ll make the last song you a
sing a requiem.”
He pushed the blade
closer for effect.
“No! PLEASE!”
Derrek flicked the blade,
producing the tiniest of scratches against the fat man’s jowls. He
howled with the piercing cry of a dying man.
“I won’t ask again,”
Derrek growled.
“ok…OK! I’ll tell
you!”
Derrek pulled back the
blade, looking left and right to insure they hadn’t drawn any
unwanted attention.
Alec reached a hand up to
his throat, rubbing the fresh cut. As he held his blood flecked
fingers to his eyes, he began to swoon on his feet. Derrek grabbed
him roughly by his ruffled, styled lapel.
“Look, I never wanted
any of this!” Alec said, raising his hands in submission. “I
never wanted you expelled. It wasn’t my idea. I was set up to take
the fall. I was a patsy!”
“What does that have to
do with my drugging and your vandalism?”
“I’m getting there!”
Alec said hastily. “You see, they came to me. I didn’t go looking
for them. They wanted to see your ambitions reigned in, checked. They
didn’t want you to garner the attention of the masters.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know,”
Alec said.
Derrek raised the blade
warningly.
“I swear! I never saw
them. They communicated with me only through letters.”
“Where? How?”
“Now, or when you were
enrolled here?”
“When I was enrolled?”
Alec pointed towards the
dormitories.
“I found them on my
windowsill when I returned to my room at night. My door was always
locked so I don’t know how they were getting there except…”
“Except what?”
“Well, one time I
returned from my studies early. I had forgotten my coin purse and
couldn’t really afford all the wine for the evening. When I opened
my door, I heard a greater flutter and as I rushed to my window I saw
the retreating back of a large bird.”
“And these same letters
told you to ransack my room last night? How do you know they were
from the same person?”
“The writing and paper
were all similar. The writing itself was very elegant and flowing but
it was the paper that mostly caught my attention. It was dried
papyrus. Only, recently it wasn’t a bird delivering them but a
cat.”
“A cat? What kind of
cat?”
“Well, it was about yay
high and…”
Before Alec could explain
more a terrific scream filled the air. Both men turned towards the
sky to find a large bird swooping down upon them. Immediately, Derrek
dropped to the ground but Alec just shouted as the animal descended
upon him. The fat man raised his arms to defend himself, but the bird
struck with beak and claw, driving him screaming from cover and into
the courtyard.
The creature hovered for
a second, eyeing Derrek warily. It looked like a common raven but
almost three times the size. Derrek tightened his grip on his blade
but the bird merely squawked its disapproval before chasing after
Carver.
Would-be bards and
minstrels shouted in surprise and uselessness as the giant avian
fluttered through their midst. Derrek jumped to his feet to give
chase. However, the bird ceased its pursuit the moment Alec ran into
one of the dormitories, barring the door from inside.
The beast gave one last
caw before taking wing and disappearing into the sky.
Derrek approached the
door, knocking loudly against the wood.
“Alec! Alec, I know
you’re in there.”
“I’m not coming out!”
“The bird is gone!”
“I don’t care!” he
screamed. “The moment I come out it will be back for me. No, they
know I was about to tell you. I… I won’t cross them. I can’t!”
“You’ll miss the
Challenge!” Derrek warned.
“So be it! I can try
next year!”
Derrek sighed. That was
always his excuse. And so long as Carver kept receiving money from
his parents he never had to worry. Derrek sighed, returning to the
courtyard. There was nothing left to do but wait for the Challenge to
begin.
Despite the interruption
of the giant raven, the contestants seemed particularly unshaken by
the encounter. Some, in true bardic fashion, had already begun
retelling the events to make them more dramatic. Personal flair
invariably began to exaggerated the moment to a daring defence
against a flock of mighty Rocs by a few brave souls.
Bards made the worst damn
eyewitnesses.
However, it did leave the
officials in a bit of a fluster and they approached the participants
with wary glances to the sky. Three of them came to address the
participants, bedecked in bright pantaloons, tunics, ruffles and the
most extravagant hats money could buy.
“Very well, you have
all been registered for this year’s Challenge,” the administrator
called, gathering everyone’s attention mostly to his enormous
peacock feathered chapeau. “As you all know, the Bard’s Challenge
involves three main tasks. I just want to add that any suggestion we
stole the layout from the Wizard’s Challenge are wholly slanderous
lies by the wizards and the Academy in an attempt to belittle our
process. For one, they don’t have a singing and dancing portion.
Which is good for us, because it makes the Wizard’s Challenge
mighty boring for others to watch.
“Second, our trivia
portion bears no resemblance to their recitations. Once again, the
Bard’s Challenge tests its participants on their ability to
remember interesting tidbits or knowledge and, forgoing that,
fabricating some entertaining lie that at least sounds plausible. The
wizards, however, feel some misguided need to repeat arcane theory or
mystical history or whatever nonsense generally drives students to
fall asleep.
“Finally, while it is
true that we both share a magic component to our respective
Challenges, you can bet that the Bard’s Challenge shows more
ingenuity and excitement. Mostly because we don’t tell you that
there is a magic component. Ha! I want to see all those monologues
you’ve been studying help you now!
“Above
all, we hope that you perspective minstrels maintain to the tenets of
the bardic way. Cleverness, wit and unwavering confidence! Very well,
no more dillydallying. Would all the would be bards come this way!”
The administrator
beckoned for them to follow and trudged off with most of the
participants in tow. Only four stood back, watching as the
administrator led the majority of them away. Derrek shrugged and
turned to see what the other two would say.
Once the last of the
participants following the administrator passed through the arch to
the inner courtyard, a great portcullis came crashing down behind
them. The stragglers yelped, turning towards the bars and pulling on
them helplessly.
“Very good,” spoke
the female administrator. “The five of you...”
“Six!”
cried Alec from his distant door.
“Six
of you have passed the first test. We aren’t here to tell who is
and who isn’t an artist. True bards and minstrels know in their
hearts that they are so. Those poor suckers will have a full year of
additional studies and lectures pay to hopefully learn this lesson
for next year. Now, if you all will follow me, let’s get this
competition underway.”
The
woman turned in a flourish of rainbow scarves, clothes and ribbons,
walking towards the main hall as bells hidden in her great woven hair
jingled merrily.
Derrek
looked at the other contestants curiously. All of them were unsure if
this were another test. Derrek shrugged and hurried after her. Two
followed suit with Alec tentatively emerging from his barricade and
following at a distance. The last two remained behind, watching the
man in pure green who silently appraised them.
Once
all of them had followed the woman through the door, the
administrator turned, jammin a heavy key into the lock of the door.
The click of the heavy tumbler fell into place and she lowered a
great plank of wood. She then turned to the worried four faces
watching her.
“Very
good,” she smiled. “You’ve passed the second test and to not
suspect that the Bard’s College is filled with absolutely trickery.
Every good bard and minstrel must trust both his instinct and others
if she is going to get anywhere in the world. Perhaps those two will
eventually figure out that the third administrator is mute and
doesn’t have anything to say after an hour or two. Who knows,
Gorbel sure does just love to stand and stare! Come along!”
The
four of them walked after the jangling hair through the back halls of
the Bard’s College. Memories returned to Derrek of sneaking through
these passages during the night. He could remember the sounds of
rehearsing bards’ voices filling the air during the evenings. As
they passed closed rooms he recalled the hours spent in movement and
body study as they learned the intricacies of uncountable cultures
and their dances.
And all of that before he
was kicked out and had to spend two years at an Academy.
“Hey, not bad. Final
four already eh?” Alec whispered, nudging Derrek encouragingly in
the ribs.
“Don’t think I
haven’t forgotten you still haven’t told me anything.”
“Tell you what, you
beat me in the Challenge and I will tell you everything I know,”
Alec smiled.
“You’re just hoping
you have to perform first so you can use my best tales,” Derrek
grumbled.
“Here’s hoping this
year is also done by alphabetical order!”
“Here we are!” the
administrator called. She slammed another key into a wooden door,
opening up the back of the main stage for the competitors. They each
passed quietly through, gathering around her as she stood before the
front curtain.
“Very well, before we
begin I have to insure that you all have been registered of course.”
A young man came running
from the wings, his face flushed and his breath heavy. He held out
three papers to the administrator who took them with a smile.
“Thank you Tobias. Here
we are: the last registrations of those who didn’t fail the first
two challenges. Gorbel and Elcelsior were much faster this time.”
The administrator pulled
a pair of jewelled spectacles from her shirt and looked over the
papers.
“Very well, when I call
your name please identify yourself. Alec Carver.”
“Present!”
“Laara Sinclair?”
“Here.”
“Dirrek Ginmg…
Gungm…”
“Derrek
Gungrich,” Derrek corrected.
“Yes,
of course. That’s it then!”
“Ummm,
excuse me ma’am,” the fourth contender said. “But you haven’t
called my name.
“And
who would you be dear?”
“Dirrac
Gilimari.”
The
administrator flipped through her clearly three papers before looking
back at the young man and smiling politely.
“It
seems we’ve misplaced your forms, if you wouldn’t mind following
Tobias here, he’ll help you get them sorted immediately.”
The
young man nodded, following the flustered aid from the stage.
The
administrator shook her head, a cascade of tinkles emitting from her
hair.
“There’s
always one every year,” she sighed. “No matter, hopefully next
year he’ll remember to file his registration. I hope Tobias is
gentle with pitching him out.”
The
administrator turned, clapping her hands loudly. Immediately, the
curtains were drawn back, revealing the grand hall in all its glory.
Massive chandeliers hung from the great vaulted ceiling casting long
shafts of light down through their tinted crystals. Enormous
decorative banners and tapestries hung from the walls and balconies
filling the massive hall with intricate designs and glorious pieces
of colourful art.
Immediately,
the gathered crowd began a thunderous roar as a hidden band struck up
a celebratory cord. The administrator hopped forward, letting her
dress, ribbons and scarves twirling about her as she twisted her
ringing head. She immediately flowed into an elegant dance with her
body moving perfectly in time to the music as if the two had become
one.
As
she finished, the applause seemed to swell to a thunderstorm and she
stood beaming in the adoration, bowing deeply as whistles and flowers
were sent her way.
“Thank
you, thank you!” she shouted, raising her hands. She waited for the
applause to die enough for her to speak. “Greetings honoured guests
and welcome to the sixteenth annual Bard’s Challenge. We welcome
with open arms our esteemed guests of Etreria to bear witness to the
ultimate competition to name our Seeker of the Cord. This year, we
have three very special competitors!”
“Let
me first welcome Laara Sinclair! Esteemed daughter of the High Duke
of Westermarch, Laara is an accomplished orator and harpist. Being
the daughter of a High Duke, she has borne witness to many talented
individuals coming through her halls but it was the charming smile
and quick wit of Petrarchis that lured her into the dreamhalls of
minstrelry. Hopefully her father’s knights don’t find her until
she has successfully achieved that dream!”
The
crowd cheered as a very stunned and overwhelmed Laara stepped forward
and bowed meekly.
“Don’t
act timid, we deduct points for that,” the administrator whisper to
the girl. “Our next competitor calls the temperate steppes his
home. Born of a wealthy merchant and apothecary, the ever pampered
Alec Carver sought training in these illustrious halls as he had no
other prospects for his future. Much to the dismay of his family, he
refused to return to carry on any of their businesses, aspiring to
become the biggest name in the land and prove to all the children at
home who taunted him that he could amount to something!”
Alec
strolled confidently forward as the applause, while continuing,
didn’t seem as supportive as that of Laara.
“Be
careful, for even the smallest of chinks in the mask of your
confidence will break under the crowd’s scrutiny,” the
administrator whispered. “Our final competitor is a surprising one
since we have very strict rules against non-members participating.
But after being what he considered unfairly expelled from the
College, our dashing (and may I add gorgeous) Derrek Gungrich sought
training at one of our rivals' Academies. There he met another young
man from his village and after only a year and a half at the Academy,
they returned home to set off on grand adventures. Eschewing
traditional classroom instruction and gathering worldly experience,
Derrek travelled across uncountable lands and kingdoms until
returning to the city of his true calling. Relying on the virtues of
a true bard, he lied and trick his way into the final test where he
hopes of finally receiving recognition for his artistic endeavours!”
Derrek
was too stunned by the candid introduction that he simply stumble
forward and gave as gracious of a bow as he could.
“Don’t
think anything goes beneath our notice,” the administrator
whispered to him before smiling broadly and applauding with the
crowd.
“Let
the Challenge begin!”
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