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Chapter Four: Enlightenment and the Daughters of Summertime

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"Thanks Bren, that would be helpful." Starts drawing a decent sketch of the "advanced wagon". Portable forge, and smithy, kitchen, and pantry, with water supplies, and what looks like to be 2 large barrels stuck up on top of the pantry about 10 feet from the deck of the wagon, one looks to be just an average barrel, the other has a steel bottom, with what looks like a bowl that would hold something in it. Both appear to have some piping going into the sink then there are two spigots that then tie into one tube. Outside of the wagon is the same piping but put up high with the similar spigots, again tying into one tube.


"Hum maybe add a stand for people to stand on instead of getting muddy, and add a ring and something to give some privacy... soap dish... make the stand adjustable for people of low stature, and high..." more sounds of scribbling. "Ice closet to keep things cool and fresh."
 
Wolf makes it outside without being noticed. The night air greets him with a refreshing wind and the sound of Stewart humming an old traveling tune to himself. The old fellow has yet to notice the Ranger. Above the Adventurers' Wagon, stars shine and twinkle merrily by the scores and before it, the broad Road of Kings stretches on and on into the darkness.


Bria spots Bren heading outside and grabs her walking stick. "Oooohhhh, no you don't, Mister Bren! I want to hear what the faeries have to say, too!" She pauses. "Are you coming, Luna?" Bria beckons to her fellow Wanderer, then her feet whisk her outside with Bren, the hobbits, and to the faerie girls.


"Hey, I iz comin' too! Wait ups!"


As some of the Wanderers head outside toward the smaller wagon, Bren is politely shushed by not one, but both hobbits! "Don't leave us in suspense, loves!" "Aye! What happened after he ate them?!"


The Daughters of Summertime are sitting on Bonabin's cloth cap in a chaotic little pile of limbs and wings, half-wrestling, half-tickling each other. The hobbit-hat is directly before the Meadowsweets and they peer with big eyes and open ears while one of the three continues on a story that began while the Wanderers were dining. A tiny, girlish voice continues...


"Well! Let me tell you! After eating goblins, orcs, and even a whole ogre, the Big, Big, Bullette became the Biggest ever! Now he roams all over Shandra's Evergreen, tromping and stomping and scaring evil creatures everywhere! Sometime- Eek!"


One of the sisters pounces kitten-like onto the speaker and they begin to "battle it out" in a harmless and mischievous fashion. The third Daughter picks up where her faerie-kin left off. "Well, sometimes, if he likes you? He'll open his big ol' mouth!" She melodramatically stretches her arms high and and low and forms her fingers into teeth. "And if you dig around in there, sometimes you can find treasure! Goliath eats anything!"


"Does..." Whittle cringes, "does he eat hobbits?"


The Daughter shakes her head and waves off the question. "Never, never, never! He never attacks forest-friends! So, if you see a Big, Big, Bullette in the forest? He might be Goliath the Biggest Bullette Ever!" The Daughters rise up and curtsy as one to the eager applause of the smiling, excited halflings.


They hear Bren's offer and look to each other. It takes only a moment for them to decide. "Bonny, you've gone and left your supper untouched!" "Well, it was such a good story, my little bumblebee!" "Let's go inside and warm it up, shall we? Give the Big Folk some time with our little tale-tellers!" "Aye!" Bonny and Whittle hand Bren the reins to the great horses, shake his hands in thanks, and set off hand-in-hand to the comforts of the Adventurers' Wagon.


There, on Bonny's forgotten cap, the Daughters of Summertime shine and twinkle star-like as they flitter about Bren and Bria. They avoid Powerpaw, but they do not hide from him this time. Together, they wave and greet Bren the forest-friend. "Hello, Brendoran!" "Killaneson!" "Sarabina!"


 
Bonny and Whittle enter the Adventurers' Wagon and wave at Bronze. "Hello there!" Bonny says. "Brendoran says you have something you wanted to ask us about?"
 
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Bren listens to the end of the faeries' story, laughing at the thought of Goliath the Biggest Bullette Ever. "Indeed, I was there when he had a hobbit in his mouth and he didn't eat her! She was helping him clean his teeth." Stepping up into the wagon seat, he accepts the reins with a nod. "Enjoy, you two." Then he reaches down to lift Bria into the wagon beside him. "There you go. Powerpaw, d'you want up as well or will you run alongside? We may be a while."


He settles the reins comfortably in his hands, his firm, confident grip conveying his competence to the horses. "Well, now, my fae friends. I believe you were telling me about the star that fell, and its effects on us? What exactly is this odd feeling, and what can be done regarding it?"
 
Hands the drawing to the hobbits. "What do you think? It's a bit rough I know, I can add a pump to the water tanks to fill em up and stuff like that later. We can use charcoal to heat the stove in the kitchen and the hot water barrel." Points out the ice closet to keep food fresh, and the pantry.
 
The Daughters of Summertime dance in the air before the present Wanderers leaving glittering dust-like trails of starry blue and soothing green. One comes to a hovering halt right before Bren's nose. "I know! Dream ore, prismalcum, cosmic rock, whatever they want to call it, it has a loooooong history! That's where the feeling comes from! Let me -- ai!"


She gets whapped by a flying tackle from her sister. "You told the last one! It's someone else's turn!"


"I'll tell!" The third of three soars about leaving long trails before settling on Bren's right shoulder. "You see, the emptiness is a yearning of the spirit! All children have it before they become adults. You had it once; now you have it again! Eeeep!"


Off the wood faerie flies as the first sister grabs her. They wrestle there on Bren's shoulder while the second sister drifts down from above to sit girlishly on Bren's left knee. "What it means is this: your spirit has come into contact with what we call the Dream Ore. When the Dream Ore first touches Sharseya, it provides the opening of the mind and spirit. Enlightenment! I see inside of you a special skill - an ability as unique as your own signature - and now it doesn't have be alone!"


"Right!" says one of the two wrestling sisters. "Now you can seek -- rrrf!-- inside yourself and choose another special skill all your own! Mrrph!"


"That's why all powerful creatures seek out the Dream Ore. Not just because it can do what no other ores can, but because of the enlightenment it provides anyone near it within its first hour of landing!"


Then all three daughters gather 'round on Bren's knee and look up to all of the Wanderers. "Sooooo? What are you going to choose?" "What will you draw forth from within?" "You don't have that long to decide! Only a lifetime!"


Bria sits back and places her hand over her heart. She is silent for a few moments as the knowledge slowly sinks in. "That's what that feeling was... Oh my..." She turns to Powerpaw and Bren. "We have to tell the others!"


The fuzzy warrior thinks and simply replies, "Moar!"
 
Sitting at the table, Luna is trying to run simulation after simulation in her mind to get herself alone with Wolf without making her seem like some kind of tart. She wishes that there was some easy way to learn this; some kind of class offered at the Mage School would be ideal. <snort> Yeah, imagine trying to do the homework for that class. No, Luna. You are just going to have to figure this out on your own. Why must this be so hard? You're smart. Shouldn't you be able to figure out what to do with all these brains you supposedly have? Boccob help me. I feel so stupid sometimes.
 
Besides Luna's own thoughts come Sparkle's own as she dreams and dreams...


Steak and belly rubs...





...And dreams on into the night...


 
Bonny and Whittle come walking into the Adventurers' Wagon hand-in-hand and sit next to Bronze. They examine his draft together and shake their heads in mild confusion. Bonny pulls a pipe from his coat. "This diagram is all head and clouds above us, I'm afraid, but I think we get the general idea. The idea of a portable smith sounds like quite a project, but why have a kitchen when there is one in the Adventurers' Wagon here?"


Whittle nods at this. "The best kitchen I have ever seen, too!"


Bonny taps the draft with his pipe. "The pantry in this... forge wagon... is a must, though. Imagine working in all that heat with nothing to nibble on or quench the thirst! Dreadful!"


"We would certainly like to lend a hand in its making until we reach Highwind."


"Quite right! Bronze, you were such a help in putting dinner together, at least we could do it help you with your own projects."


"Having two wagons... you will need another full-time driver once we find ourselves in Hobbitcrest again. Oh, just saying the name makes a girl homesick!"


"There, there, my beautiful rose... Let us focus on what the Wanderers need, shall we?" Bonny hugs his lady and looks to Bronze. "What say you ask the other Wanderers, too? Sorry we cannot be of more help, being the simple hole-dwellers that we are."


Powerpaw carefully mounts the wagon and listens to the tales told. He does not appear to have too much to say just yet, but instead is keeping an open ear.
 
Dannigan said:
Bria sits back and places her hand over her heart. She is silent for a few moments as the knowledge slowly sinks in. "That's what that feeling was... Oh my..." She turns to Powerpaw and Bren. "We have to tell the others!"
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Bren nods thoughtfully. "We've rather strayed apart at the moment, but I agree that it ought to be made known to everyone as soon as possible. In the meantime, however..." He turns his attention back to the faerie sisters. "I thank you for sharing this with us. In return, I have a bit of information to share with you." And which I'd like to share with Otiorin, if I can catch him in one place long enough; I wasn't quite fast enough at dinner. "Some time back, I had the opportunity to speak with a Wild Elf ranger, and she shared with me a rather important detail regarding the, as she so eloquently put it, 'betrayer of the forest.' It seems that while many people know this person was a half-elf, few know that half-elf's lineage. My wife being a half-elf herself (she is of the Wood Elves), the Wild Elf we spoke to wished us to know this: the one who caused the destruction of the Wild Elves' home forest is half-drow." He lets that hang in the air, knowing it's going to cause an explosion of chatter.
 
For a few moments, the ranger just relishes the chill air and starry backdrop. It felt good to just... feel. Not rush anywhere, not having to focus on anything, or thinking about what to say or... Yeah. Eventually he takes a few steps closer and greets Stewart: "Ho there. Fine evening."

- Entangle


- Detect Snares and Pits
 
"Hum well I could remove the kitchen and add more storage space, ummmm... snacks..." Bronze carefully listens in on the Ore-stuff, and wonders how that works. Thinking: Maybe it's not meant to be forged into anything. Starts wandering around showing everyone his idea on the cart, and asks if they would like to help. Passing the pondering Powerfluffy, Bronze powks him in arm and asks "What cha thinking about?"
 



  • Bronze sez,

    Passing the pondering Powerfluffy, Bronze powks him in arm and asks "What cha thinking about?"
    Click to expand...
    Whittle and Bonabin wave a friendly farewell to Bronze as the smith exits the Adventurers' Wagon, passes by Stewart and Wolf, and meanders around the gargantuan wagon until he comes across the second wagon behind it where Powerpaw, Bren, and Bria are occupied by the Daughters of Summertime.


    Powerpaw and Bria wave to Bronze and Powerpaw replies, "I'm thinkin' dat I knows a fat lotta nuffin' about elfies an' half-elfies... For some reason, dis talkin' makes me miss my own people. You know a lot about elfies, Bronze-face?"


    Bronze has entered during this part of the conversation with the Daughters:


    Bren sez,

    My wife being a half-elf herself (she is of the Wood Elves), the Wild Elf we spoke to wished us to know this: the one who caused the destruction of the Wild Elves' home forest is half-drow." He lets that hang in the air, knowing it's going to cause an explosion of chatter.
    Click to expand...
    And an explosion of chatter is just what happens!


    The Daughters of Summertime shriek in marvelous harmony which would sound delightful if it were not edged with horror and surprise. Then they fly off the handle with such a rapid jabbering in a combination of Common, Sylvan, and Elven tongues as has never before been heard upon this old road. It is obvious they do not like what they have just heard. The scene of the three little maidens grabbing each other in fright, hopping up and down, and making piping sounds that likely mean things only to other faeries, would be comical if the faeries were not so filled with annoyance and fear.


    Out of the whole thing, the only clear statement the Wanderers catch is, "Oooh, and Brendoran used such a bad word, too!"


    When their language returns to the intelligible, Bren finds himself with three little faeries with their little hands on their little hips staring up at him with suspicion. The suspicion does not, however, seem to be aimed specifically at him.


    "Are you suuuuuure about this?" "Yeah! Would you please bring forth the name of the wild elf who told you?" "Not all wild elves are Forest-friends. Maybe this one is and we will know?" Hands clasped, they very cutely and passionately say, "Please, please, please, please, please, tell us?!" They lean up to him and cup their ears with a combination of complete trust and toe-tapping impatience.


    Brendoran supplies that name. "Kyrasani of the Wild."

    I asked Kaerri how Bren would answer this and that is her response above. I did this for the accuracy and the sake of the scene (and because she's sitting right here...).


    "Oooooh!" The Daughters' fear and suspicion slide off and away of their moods like rain off a leaf-blade. "She's been a Forest-friend for centuries!" "She's with the Fangs of the Forest Mother!" "That settles it then!" The three siblings turn to each other and together they say, "Let's spread the word and tell everybody!"


    Bria smiles and leans forward. "Everybody?"


    They hop and bounce around in excitement causing their blonde hair to go every which way in the nighttime breeze. "It's the least we can do for insulting the half-elf who freed us!" "We'd now like to pronounce him Forest-friend, not only for freeing us, but for teaching us an important lesson about respect!' "We are ancient creatures, but doomed to know naught but adolescent thoughts, never to blossom into full adulthood with all the wisdom it brings!" "But he won't let us kiss him!" "And that's the best waaay!"


    Bria's voice drops to nearly a whisper. "Oh my gosh... Otiorin a Forest-friend? Bren, Otiorin has to learn this. After the oath he swore... being pronounced a Forest-friend could very well save his life in the future!" Bria suddenly rises to leave.
 
Otiorin was on the move, his fleet legs and nimble feet carried him at a rate through that burgeoning night that few would dare, his enchanted boots further enhancing his stride so that he seemed to rush through the trees like a dark sylvan spirit. While his body was in harmony with his arboreal surroundings, his mind was in turmoil.


So many things have happened since I left the security of home. So much was not as I expected. The tales my father told of these human lands and the lands of others were bright colourful things, full of mystery, excitement and romance, but instead they are brim filled with pain, suffering, injustice and sorrow. There are a few bright places, but they are islands in a sea of troubles. I see why so many Elves choose to remain among their own, it is a safer more accepting place. In Elven lands, you know who you are and others know too. Out here, there is misunderstanding, discrimination and outright hostility based only on the shape of your ears.


He paused in a clearing, taking time to devour the slice of delicious pie Bria had gifted him. Eating it reminded him of the moment that she'd given it to him, the words she'd said, and his heart ached again. The soft fabric of the napkin, lightly rumpled and soiled with crumbs of pie crust, lay across his palms like some delicate Elven relic, an ancient artefact of some elder enchantress-queen and he treated it with that same level of care and respect. Handling the fabric brought the memory of her soft hands touching his and a shudder passed through him. He froze as a breeze stirred the leaves in the trees and the clouds scudded away from the moon's timeless face, casting the Half-Elf's world in a silvery rime.


Then he heard it, the gentle keening note from his scabbard. Carefully stowing the napkin within his tunic, he withdrew Moonlit Edge and balanced it between his hands. It's edge and the eternal runes etched into its faces shone in the radiance of the moon, giving off a resplendent silver light of their own. Freed from her leather sheath, the short sword sang her lament unfettered, an ethereal note that was as old as the universe, as deep as the furthest ocean and heartsore beyond the reckoning of any living being. For a moment, Otiorin saw it, the two blades being plunged into the intolerable heat of the forge, beaten upon an Elven smith's anvil with enchanted hammers, tempered in sanctified oils and dressed out with all the care and attention to detail that only the finest of Elven hands and eyes could attain. He saw them hung, side-by-side, on the hip of their fabled wielder. He saw them handled in battle, shattering swords, smashing shields and crushing the evil creatures that dared stand against the long-lost hero. All too quickly the song and the visions ended and Otiorin was left alone in the darkness, his body shaking and his eyes weeping freely. He gently lifted the sword and wrapped his arms around the naked blade, like a mother with a babe-in-arms.


"Ah, my friend,", he whispered gently in the sword's mother tongue , "here am I whining about how hard my world is and you, in your wisdom, teach me the true meaning of hardship. To be cast adrift from one to whom you are so close, to know that they still exist in some plane or another and be so powerless to do anything to return to them. To rely on this ridiculous, lazy Half-Elf to venture out on some vain quest to find his place and hope his meanderings bring you closer to the one you yearn for. Oh, how you suffer. Yet you cleave to me as to that hero of yon and I thank you for that. I wish I had the skill to wield you with his ease, that we should better find the clues that you need to find the Sunfire Blade. But I'm a fool, what did I really want? A life of ease? Nay, I left that back in my mother's home. A vast fortune? I'm too lazy to accumulate that sort of wealth. So what then?"


He sat and thought of the last few days, the things he had his friends and done. He had been a scout, a safe bridge to one of the most ancient and powerful creatures in the world, a valued support to his fellows. He had a place and he only needed to reaffirm that place.


"Come, I think we've achieved what we came out here to do. Let's return to the others.", he said with a loving tone in his voice and resheathed the short sword.


He rose from the crouch he was in and swiftly and silently headed back in the direction of the Adventurer's Wagon.
 
"The wilds beckon me, 'tis true." the ranger nods, leaning with his back against the wooden wall of the wagon. He crosses his arms in front and looks up, sighing as he stares into the sky. "The sky is lit with countless sparks; each a fire and every one a sign. That's what they say, at least. Do you believe them? Do you believe there is meaning to be drawn from these lights? That they guide our destiny?"
 
Dannigan said:
"Oooooh!" The Daughters' fear and suspicion slide off and away of their moods like rain off a leaf-blade. "She's been a Forest-friend for centuries!" "She's with the Fangs of the Forest Mother!" "That settles it then!" The three siblings turn to each other and together they say, "Let's spread the word and tell everybody!"
Bria smiles and leans forward. "Everybody?"
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Bren also smiles, in satisfaction. This was exactly what he'd had in mind when he chose to tell them!
Dannigan said:
They hop and bounce around in excitement causing their blonde hair to go every which way in the nighttime breeze. "It's the least we can do for insulting the half-elf who freed us!" "We'd now like to pronounce him Forest-friend, not only for freeing us, but for teaching us an important lesson about respect!' "We are ancient creatures, but doomed to know naught but adolescent thoughts, never to blossom into full adulthood with all the wisdom it brings!" "But he won't let us kiss him!" "And that's the best waaay!"
Bria's voice drops to nearly a whisper. "Oh my gosh... Otiorin a Forest-friend? Bren, Otiorin has to learn this. After the oath he swore... being pronounced a Forest-friend could very well save his life in the future!" Bria suddenly rises to leave.
Click to expand...
All serious again, Bren nods. "Could you find him and bring him here? I can't very well leave the horses to themselves. If he isn't back from scouting yet, Wolf can probably track him down for you." In the meantime...all those offers of kisses are starting to seem suspicious. What exactly is it that the little fae think is so rewarding about them? Could it be there's something special about a forest fairy's kiss?
Bren wants to roll a knowledge check on these faeries. Is Knowledge: Nature or Monster Lore more appropriate? Or can I try both, possibly with different information?
 
Luna decides to head outside and see what everyone else is up to, and perhaps the fairies are calmed down enough to explain just what the evil wizard was attempting to do with them in the Globe. As she gets out of the Wagon, she begins to search for the others. "Hey everybody. What's goin' on?"
 
Looks up at Powerfluffy "Do you know how to read? Books are a good source of knowledge, however they are rare, and hard to come by." Bronze would start taking care of the animals, and prolly start building the forge wagon, minus the kitchen, with extra water storage, and the "Hot Water Droppy Down Thingie, so people can get clean."


"Well Powerfluffy, I'm gonna start playing with the forge, you know weapons, so what should I make first?"
 
Heya folks!


This concludes Chapter Four: Enlightenment and the Daughters of Summertime.


Our adventure together continues with Chapter Five: Melshaef and the Lost Mother. Feel free to post there, please.
 
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