Appearing before NW Snowie, the young guard stood at attention.
"Good morning, Exeter.", Snowie began. "I'm approving your vacation, but only three days. I have taken the liberty of reserving you a room at the Inn of the Glowing Gem in Yartar."
"But...", Yartar hadn't been in his vacation plans a minute ago.
"I have a small task for you while you're on vacation. I just want you to...look around, observe...tell me what you see in Yartar."
"But..."
"Exeter, remember your oath to duty.", Snowie reasoned.
"But..."
"Exeter, you're a Cleric of Torm", Snowie was using unfair tactics.
"But..."
"Torm, the True", Snowie hit below the belt.
Exeter grimaced, sighed and managed, "Aye, Captain." Outranked and defeated, the guard stepped from Snowie's office to make passage to Yartar. His warhorse, Yurik, was far too slow for so long a trip. He would have to procure a gryphon from the animal pool. And so he did...the gryphon's name was "Nightmare", appropriately named because the beast could give its rider nightmares for weeks from only one flight. Mounting the animal the guard left the comfort of city life for the freedom of the open skies...
...or so he thought...
The beast pitched and rolled, swooped and yawed, gaining unthinkable heights, then plummeting with blinding speed to within yards of the ground. The guard's face was a hideous caricature of the real man. He opened his mouth to scream, but the rushing wind stole his breath. Ducking his head and gritting teeth (when they weren't chattering), Exeter held on to the uncontrollable beast for all his worth...
...other than that, it was an uneventful trip...
When he arrived in Yartar Exeter's hair was
standing nearly straight out, from the wind, of course. His eyes
were wide and bulging. The muscles in his neck seemed to stop
working as his head kept shaking ever so slightly.
"Please, mista, can I groom ya gryph?" asked a dirty
stable boy. Exeter blinked, tossed the urchin a few platinum and
staggered out of the stable. He checked into the Inn of the
Glowing Gem, managed to charm two skullery maids into sneaking
some kettles of boiling water into his room, and took a hot,
welcome bath.
He was on vacation, after all ;/ He could start obsereving the townsfolk tomorrow.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There are trips and excursions that are memorable, those that one tells tales of for the rest of their days; those that one relives in memory over and over again, wishing all days were like those remembered...
...this was not one of those. To say it was memorable would be an understatement. To say that he would remember it his whole life would be a sure bet. But the only good thing Exeter would remember from his trip to Yartar was the solitary hot bath he'd managed just after arriving in the town.
The run of bad luck Exeter stumbled upon began almost as soon as he stepped from the Inn of the Glowing Gem the morning after his arrival. Feeling quite refreshed from his night's sleep, the vacationing guard stepped into the streets of Yartar wanting only to do his duty of observing the citizens and surroundings. He ambled down the street heading east and turned south at what had to be the main intersection of the city. Exeter noted the city watch as they rode through the streets; there were an unusually large number of patrols within the town limits. He kept heading south until he came upon an interesting site.
The building was old, rundown, and badly in
need of repair. On the front door was a parchment scroll
substituting as a business sign.
He stepped through the door. An emaciated old
man was stooped over rummaging through a host of items in a box,
looking for Torm knows what, and stood up with a start.
"Oh, ye skeert me 'alf outta me wits!" The old man blurted out.
"Well don't jes stan' thar ye big oaf, gimme a 'and wit
this box!"
Taken aback, Exeter didn't know quite what else to do other than lend a hand to the rude, if frail looking, old man. Taking an oil lantern and handing it to Exeter, the old man told the guard to light the lamp. Reciting a cantrip any first week apprentice would know, Exeter tried to strike a flame to the
wick with his left index finger.
"Yeeeowwwch!" His right hand ignited.
Instinct and reflex propelled him to rid himself of his flaming
gauntlet and with a shocked expression, looked to the sage
questioningly. The old man tapped his foot and said,
"Always 'ave ta do it meself, now don't I?", as he took
the lamp, set if on a small round table and intoned,
"Illuminatus!"
KABOOM! Exeter landed on the seat of his
trousers in the muddied street with his palms face down behind
him, holding him upright. His face, now soot covered, showed only
white eyes, open wide. His long hair, once white, now ash covered
and blackened, had little wisps of smoke rising from it. He
coughed a pitiful cough, and soot blew out of his mouth. He took
a long, hard blink. Citizens walked by as if nothing happened, or
as if they were used to this happening. An adolescent girl put
her hand to her mouth and giggled. A crooked, withered man walked
up to Exeter and observed,
"Been ta see the sage, eh?",
and chuckled.
"Aye", the guard responded.
"Just what're ye doing thar?"
With that question Exeter took on a sad, sorrowful look and replied with a wry smile,
"I'm on vacation."