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HTN 5-39 A date for dinner
🕑 Added 2022-01-01 20:59:06 +0000 UTCHeather glared across the long table at the sultry woman who smiled over a glass of wine. They were theoretically trapped and at her mercy, but Heather saw no real danger. This woman was playing with fire if she thought Heather would let her friends be pushed around. With a snap of her finger, the scythe vanished in a puff of black smoke.
“What are you doing?” Blackbast asked as Heather relaxed her stance.
“We have been invited to dinner,” she replied with a smile. “I wouldn't want to be rude and refuse such a request.”
“Good choice,” the woman said and stood up. “Your two guards can wait by the door while we talk and enjoy our meal.”
There was an awkward silence that was broken when Heather smiled and shook her head. “These are my friends, not my guards. I am afraid I can’t accept an invitation that doesn’t include them.”
“I see,” Lydia replied and looked over the group. “Then I will arrange for some sturdier chairs for your two large companions.”
“I don't need a chair,” Legeis replied and stood in his armor so he could clearly be seen.
“Good heavens. Is that a goblin?” Lydia asked as she smiled ever so slightly.
Heather nodded and introduced him. Then proceeded to introduce Breanne. Frank, and Quinny. She left out what they were, only giving out their names.
“You seem to have left one out,” the handsome man said with another smile. “We didn’t get your name.”
“Hannah,” she replied with a toss of her head. “Princess, Hannah.”
“A princess?” the bald man said as his face puckered. Those deep eyes turned to Heather as if trying to decide if she was lying, but he made no further remark. The woman at his right seemed almost amused by the news and reached down to lift something from her lap. She placed a snake of black and gold over her shoulders and whispered to it, her head gesturing Heather's way.
“Well,” Began Lydia as she set her wine down. “It has been far too long since our hall had such distinguished guests. Are any more of you royalty?”
“They are all nobility from my kingdom,” Heather replied. “Ladies and lords of Ellowshire.”
“Ellowshire,” Lydia repeated with a faraway look. “Oh yes. Queen Gwendallen's kingdom. I haven't heard news of Ellowshire in years. You must sit and tell us what has been going on in your distant kingdom and why you are so far from home.”
“Sit here,” the handsome man urged and stood from his seat to pull the chair next to him back. “I am sure we will get along well.”
“Frank, you sit next to me,” Heather said and folded her arms. “Once they provide a proper chair.”
The handsome man looked agitated for just a moment, but Lydia encouraged him to get a chair for Hannah's companion.
“Fiance,” Hannah corrected and hooked Frank’s arm much to the annoyance of the handsome man. “Oh, do hurry. I would like to sit down.”
The man nodded and moved to a door on the far wall. He slipped out and returned a moment later with an oversized oaken chair that would more than suffice. Heather noted he carried the massive object easily and dropped it with a thunk beside the table. Heather then gestured to Frank to get her chair, and he pushed it in as she sat down before taking his place beside her.
Quinny and Breanne sat on the other side of the table alongside the woman with the snake. Blackbast sat beside Frank with a tail twitching in irritation. Legeis climbed out of his armor and took a seat next to Blackbast before removing his goggles.
Heather looked across the table as the sharp-featured woman stared back with that same amused expression. She gently stroked the head of her snake as the beast hissed at Heather slightly.
“I do hope you aren't afraid of snakes,” the woman said as she looked down. “Dear Chester, here is really very gentle, at least to the people he likes.”
“Snakes, don't bother me,” Heather said and reached down by her feet. She swept up Webster and plunked him on the table before her in one fluid motion. “But I like spiders much better.”
“Oh!” the woman cried and lurched back in her chair. “Get that beastly thing off the table!”
“Hey! Don’t be rude,” Heather remarked and picked Webster up to clutch him to her chest. “Webster is very nice.”
“Spiders are disgusting!” the woman spat.
“Lady Dellaquin,” Lydia called in a firm tone.” Do not speak so harshly to our guests.” She clapped her hands, and the side door opened again, and three women dressed as maids appeared. They carried trays of food and moved around the table, setting the plates before the group. A fourth woman appeared with a large pitcher and began to pour wine.
Breanne took up her glass first and took a gentle sip with a dour look on her face. Heather followed suit and picked up her glass, giving it a swirl.
“So, the people in your town speak highly of you,” Heather said before taking a sip. “They almost act as if they are afraid of you.”
Lydia smiled softly as she leaned back in her chair. She seemed far too relaxed, like a woman holding all the cards. Heather was sure the woman was overconfident and had no idea what she had invited into her parlor.
“The people are loyal to their lady and serve their purpose,” Lydia said.
“And they provide a bit of sport,” the handsome man added.
Heather glanced at the man beside her as he smiled with that devilish grin. She wondered what that remark was supposed to mean and why it made him smile.
“You know, I don’t think I got your name,” she said.
“Gislaw,” he replied with a slight bow. “lord of the hunt.”
“That sounds important,” Heather replied, then paid him no further attention. He laughed as the door opened again, and the servants returned with trays of steaming meats. Heather stared as they began heaping piles of the meat on their plates. She felt a touch at her leg as she waited for the others to be served. With a glance to her left, she realized it was Frank, tapping with a long finger. She had to look up to see his face as it dawned on her that he was still wearing a helm.
She looked to the left and realized that Frank was tapping her with a finger. She looked up to see his towering face and realized he was still wearing a helm.
“Oh,” she said as it dawned on her. He would have to remove it to eat. Once it was off, the others would see what he was, and it might cause issues. She looked across the table to Quinny, who had the same issue but hardly needed to worry. Quinny tore the mask right off and set it beside her plate before taking up her fork.
“Is something the matter with your friend?” Lydia asked with a swish of her wine. She gestured with the glass to Frank as all eyes turned to him.
“I’m not hungry,” he said with a gruff voice that did little to divert attention.
“Even so. It is rude to sit at the table in a full suit of armor,” the bald man said as he looked down his nose at Frank.
“Just another hulking brute,” the woman beside him added. “No manners or good graces.”
Heather turned her gaze on the woman with a sour expression. “And is it good manners to invite people to dinner so that you can insult them?”
“It isn't an insult to point out one's character,” the woman countered. “A princess should take more care who she keeps at her side. To think you plan to marry him.”
“Hey!” Heather shouted as she got to her feet. “Frank is the nicest guy I have ever met and has proven himself a hero on many occasions. If anything, I don't deserve to be at his side.”
“Frank,” the man to her side chuckled. “What a common name. Couldn’t think of anything more adventurous?”
“I happen to like my name,” Frank replied and stood up. “I will wait in the hall.”
“You can't. They locked us in, remember?” Heather argued as she turned to face him. “But you have my permission to rip the door from the frame and shove it down this fool's throat.” She accentuated her point by pointing to the man beside her as he tensed in anger.
“Now, this is interesting,” Lydia said as she smiled at the display. “Come now, Lady Dellaquin and Lord Gislaw. We must remember that these people are guests and give them some time to adapt.”
Heather turned to glare at the woman who returned it with a dark intensity.
“Careful girl, I am not going to tolerate that sharp tongue turned on me,” Lydia threatened.
Heather went to lash out, but another voice beat her as Blackbast leaned over the table.
“Hannah, be quiet and sit down,” the feline woman ordered. Heather went to argue but suddenly felt a compulsion to sit and realized the collar around her neck was taking control. With gritted teeth, she dropped into her seat and folded her arms silently. The table was silent as Blackbast leaned over to Frank and had to stand on her chair. She whispered something into his ear, and he nodded before getting up to walk away with her.
“We will be right back,” Blackbast announced. “I am going to help him with his armor.”
Heather stewed in anger as they retreated to the far side of the room. She glanced to the side to see Lydia watching her intently as if studying something. Lord Gislaw was also looking closely, his gaze focused on her neck.
“So,” Lydia began with a slow nod. “I think I see who is in charge here.”
“I had wondered what that collar around her neck was for,” Gislaw added.
“A bonded slave girl,” Lady Dellaquin laughed. “We should have been talking to the cat the whole time.”
“Perhaps I could pay her mistress for some time alone with her slave,” Gislaw laughed. “She could use a lesson or two in humility.”
Heather wanted to tell them what she thought of them, but the compulsion to remain silent was overwhelming. To her great relief, a new voice joined the fray, and it was every bit as sharp and biting as Lady Dellauins.
“Princess Hannah is nobody's slave,” Breanne snapped. “She has been entrusted to Priestess Blackbast's care for the duration of our trip, nothing more.” She paused to turn that elvish gaze on Lord Gislaw before making her next point. “And she isn't for sale.”
“I don’t want to buy her. Just rent her for an hour or two,” he replied.
This prompted a few chuckles from around the table, but Breanne put those sharp elven features to use. She frowned in a way that conveyed absolute anger and disgust, communicating with but a glance what she thought of the man.
He began to laugh and went back to his food as Breanne looked to Heather and nodded to the plates. Heather looked at the food and wondered if she was hungry anymore. It angered her when anybody mistreated her friends, but it especially bothered her when it was Frank. She didn't understand what Blackbast was planning as she and Frank retreated to the far corner of the room. From here, all she could see was Frank's back that completely concealed Blackbast. For a brief moment, she wondered if maybe Blackbast was trying to convince him to put on a collar. She could alter his appearance with the collar, but how far could she go, and would it disguise what he was? She took up the silverware and cut into the meat with a sigh, trusting in Blackbast to solve the problem.
“What are we doing?” Frank asked as Blackbast intentionally hid behind him.
“I am aware of your discomfort in revealing what you are,” Blackbast replied. “But there is more to it. You do not trust people to know your secret.”
Frank’s shoulders sank as he admitted that he hated being away from his lair. He described the times he had been reset and how vicious the players had been. Blackbast nodded then asked a question he was not prepared to answer.
“And what about showing what you are to Heather?”
“She already knows,” he said in surprise and nearly turned around to glance at Heather.
“Yes, yes, the girl knows what you look like, but you take every opportunity to wear this disguise even when you two are alone,” she shot back with a pointed finger. “You don't like her to see what you are.”
“What does it matter?” he pressed.
Blackbast pinned her ears back as she folded her arms in a huff. She challenged him to admit that he was afraid to remind her of what he was. She also pointed out that Heather publicly declared they were to be married without a hint of hesitation.
“I don't see your point,” Frank argued, causing Blackbast to twitch in irritation.
“Are you blind?” she growled. “The girl has feelings for you. She only holds them in check because she feels they are wrong. She isn’t afraid to marry you because she likes who you are.”
“But she can't stand to look at me,” he returned. “Even now, she avoids looking at my face.”
“I have seen her look to your eyes several times,” Blackbast countered. “Yes, she sometimes flinches, but you have gone to great lengths to make yourself horrible.”
“I came in here to play a ghoul and build a grand adventure. I wasn't planning on having a partner, especially one as pretty as Heather,” he admitted.
“Ahh, finally you slip,” Blackbast purred with a smile. “And she is not a partner. She is a girlfriend, your girlfriend. Look at how angry she got when they were rude to you. You mean a lot to her.”
“She isn’t my girlfriend,” Frank said with a wave of his hand. “I know what I look like, and I know Heather doesn’t want movie monster ugly.”
“And why have you spent no points adjusting it?” Blackbast asked.
He sighed and scratched at the helm on his head. “I dunno. I guess I feel like it would never be enough. I will always be a ghoul no matter how many points I spend.”
“Perhaps this is true,” Blackbast admitted. “I am beginning to wonder if our meeting was more than random chance.”
What do you mean?” Frank asked as Blackbast peeked around him to ensure nobody was watching too closely.
“I mean, I may be one of the few people who can solve your problem,” she said.
“You can solve my problem?” he asked with a doubtful voice.
Blackbast lowered her voice and leaned in close to whisper. She reminded him of what she was and the role she often played in her temple. She then pointed out that not everybody who came to the temple was interested in women.
“I mentioned this before, but I will remind you that this cat form is a blessing. I have a human body that I sometimes use when I encounter a traveler who isn’t interested in this one,” she added.
“Are you saying your human body is male?” he asked in confusion.
“No, no. I am saying that I can be many things to many people. My human body is very female and just as sultry, but sometimes I need to be male. When those times arise, I use this.” She held out her hand and spoke two short words. A small flash occurred and in the palm of her hand rested a small statue of a human.
“It's a magic statue-like Heather's bird one,” Frank said as he gazed on it.
“Yes,” Blackbast purred. “Only this one isn’t a bird. She held it up before his eyes so he could get a better look at it. “I paid a large sum to acquire this many years ago. I would like to offer it to you so that you can overcome this barrier to what you both want.”
Frank lifted a hand but hesitated just short of taking it. “I don’t know. Heather really wants to leave.”
“Then give her a good reason to stay,” Blackbast growled and placed the statue in his hand. “Hurry, if we linger too much longer, it will draw suspicion. Change, and I will help you get out of your armor.”
With a deep sigh, Frank turned the statue over and read the word etched on the base as his mind began to think of Heather.
“So, you are traveling to someplace?” Lydia said to the group in general. “And where might you be off to?”
“We don't know,” Quinny replied between chews. “We have a sort of magic map to guide us, but it doesn't show where the destination is, only the course.”
“Perhaps you should be more careful about what you share,” Breanne remarked sternly.
“Why?” Quinny asked innocently. “I’m not threatened by what they are.”
“Speaking of what we are,” the bald man said as he leaned forward. “Are you a zombie?”
“I am,” Quinny said with a smile and pointed at the man with a fork. “Is that a problem?”
He tsked and sat back to tap his fingers on the table a moment. “Why would this band be traveling with a zombie?”
“Perhaps they don’t mind the lesser undead,” Lady Dellaquin replied.
“Ha,” Gislaw huffed and looked around the table. “They travel with a goblin as well. They clearly have low standards.” He paused when Heather slammed her fist on the table but remained silent. “Collar keeping your tongue-tied?” he teased. “I like you better this way.”
“Hey buddy,” Legeis called as he stood in his chair. “You may want to reign in that ego. Frank isn’t known for his tolerance of people who insult Hannah.”
“Yeah, and her friends won’t stand by and let it go on either,” Quinny added.
Gislaw smiled and threw a glance to Lydia, who seemed to be enjoying the conversation. He shrugged and let the matter drop with a comment that there might be a chance at some sport later.
Heather wondered what would happen if she stabbed him with a fork but reached for her wine instead. She took a slow sip as Frank returned to his chair and sat down beside her. She looked up to see the stunned looks on Breanne and Quinny's faces and followed their gaze to the left. With a choke, she spit her wine back into the cup and coughed vigorously.
Beside her sat a tall man with a powerful frame. He had handsomely chiseled features with silvery blue eyes that looked both strong and compassionate. His hair was dark and flowed in ripples over his shoulders in a silken cascade.
“What the?” Quinny said and looked to Breanne for an explanation. The elven woman could only shrug as she, too, stared at the source of confusion.
“Is something the matter?” Lydia asked as she studied the strange behavior.
“Nothing it the mater,” Blackbast assured her before stepping around Frank.
Heather struggled to catch her breath as something warm leaned into her side. Blackbast hovered over her, now dressed in a long black gown belted by silver chains. She leaned in close and whispered in Heather's ear with sultry, purring tones.
“Do not be alarmed. This is your Frank. I will explain it later; for now, you are free to speak again,” she said and stepped away.
“Finally, the mistress has returned to keep control of her minions,” Lady Dellaquin said.
“They are not my minions,” Blackbast replied. “I travel with them as a matter of favor for Queen Gwen. I am to keep her rebellious daughter under control and focused on her tasks. The others are nobles from Gwen's court which, for reasons of their own, are traveling with us.”
“The zombie is a court noble?” the bald man asked.
“She is,” Blackbast replied. “Queen Gwen has made her a noble and granted her land inside the kingdom.”
“How fascinating,” Lydia said from her perch at the head of the table. “So she is defying King Kevin’s decree.”
“What decree?” Quinny asked a moment later, unable to tear her eyes from Frank. She only looked away when Breanne jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow.
The group of strangers looked to one another before Lady Dellaquin began to giggle. Gislaw smiled wider and shook his head before taking a swish of wine. Heather was too busy staring at Frank to take notice and only came to her senses when Blackbast snapped her fingers.
“Pay attention. You are a princess, not a fool girl.”
“That remains to be seen,” Lady Dellaquin commented.
Blackbast pinned her ears back as her eyes narrowed. “Do not be so quick to judge Hannah. She has overcome challenges that many would-be faint to face. She is also deadly loyal to her friends and prone to reckless acts of heroism. It is unwise to provoke her or her friends.”
“We aren’t trying to provoke anyone,” Gislaw commented. “We are simply testing the mettle of your group.”
“I must admit they do seem a cohesive bunch,” the bald man added. “Most unusual.”
Heather went to snap at him, but Lydia rose from her seat and held up her wine. “Yes, a most splendid group has arrived in our land. A toast to Princess Hannah and her friends, a most intriguing group, and welcome to our court.”
Heather hesitated but lifted her glass in unison and took a shallow sip. She set it down and took a second to clear her head before repeating the question that was so skillfully avoided.
“So about this decree? You seemed rather amused that we didn't know about it,” Heather asked, but in her mind, all she was thinking about was Frank.
Lydia sat down with a broad smile and leaned back in her chair. She informed them that most kingdoms belonged to King Kevin's larger empire. Member kingdoms were forbidden to give monster players titles or land under penalty of law.
“Well, that shouldn’t be an issue,” Heather replied. “Gwen isn’t part of this empire.”
“Everybody is part of it,” the bald man retorted. “If they like it or not.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” Heather asked. The bald man placed the fingertips of one hand to his chest and bowed his head as he introduced himself as Baron Durmont.
Heather nodded and explained that her mother didn't consider Kevin an ally. In fact, she had some rather strong words for the so-called king. The group laughed and informed her that most rulers did, but that didn't change the circumstances.”
“Kevin has rallied a great number of the righteous classes to his cause,” Lydia added. “Every class that calls on the light for strength counts themselves his enforcers.”
“How many classes could that be?” Heather innocently asked.
Lydia shrugged and began to name a list that made Heather's head spin.
“Paladins, knights, priests, clerics, crusaders, templars, dragon knights, witch hunters, bounty hunters, white mages, celestial sorcerers, and a few more,” she said.
“I had no idea there were so many,” Heather said as she considered the list.
“That's only the ones dedicated to the light. He has plenty of support from the other classes, especially the wizard schools,” Baron Dumont said. “Too much if you ask me.”
“Why are you suddenly being so civil?” Breanne asked.
“We were always civil,” Lady Dellaquin replied. “But so many guests prove to be such a bore. It's more fun to test their convictions and see what they're made of.” She turned to regard Breanne with a firm gaze. “I rather like how firm your conviction to one another is. So many players would sell one another out for a handful of coins.”
“I have met many wonderful players,” Heather said. “And quite a few sour ones as well,” she added with a glance to Gislaw. He laughed and went back to his food as if her words had meant nothing. The rest of the night began to go more smoothly, especially when Lydia started to do more of the talking. She asked questions of the group, especially of Blackbast and Heather. She seemed very interested in how a princess came to be a collared slave of a Priestess of Bastet. There was a moment of disturbance when Lord Gislaw made it clear he knew full well what that meant for Blackbast and made a salacious proposition right at the dinner table. Blackbast casually informed him that she was not at her temple and already employed with Hannah's care, and as such, would have to turn him down. He went to ask about Heather, but Blackbast cut him off and firmly said no. She was engaged to Frank, and one of the tasks as her keeper was to ensure her virtue.
“She isn't married yet,” Gislaw remarked, drawing a growl from the man Heather kept staring at.
Heather cleared her throat and put her hand over his, squeezing it in reassurance. She couldn’t stop looking at him and tried to make some sense of how this was possible. She tried to talk to him, but when she opened her mouth, he smiled, and her voice died away. Breanne made a few remarks aimed at Blackbast that suggested she was just as confused. Blackbast was calm through it all as if nothing was out of place and steered the conversation away from Frank and back to important matters.
“We seem to have had some of our property stolen from the village,” Blackbast said at last and looked directly at Lydia. “We followed the thief’s trail to your gates.”
“Are you accusing one of us of being a thief?” Lydia asked with a smile.
“I am making no accusations at all,” Blackbast replied with a smile of her own. “Perhaps somebody brought it here to frame you, or you have a disloyal servant.”
“Perhaps,” Lydia replied. “But why beat around the bush. I have your strange wagon. I assure you that it is safe and will be returned to you in the morning.”
“Why did you take it in the first place?” Breanne asked.
Lydia tapped her fingers on the table a moment as she considered the answer. Eventually, she tossed her head to one side and told them that she had it taken intentionally to draw them here. She knew they were here the moment they entered the village. Blackbast asked why she hadn't just sent an invitation, but Lydia brushed the question off. All she would say was she had her reasons and urged them to leave it at that.
Dinner was followed by cakes and a lively round of questions about why they traveled with a zombie and a goblin. Heather explained that they were friends and didn’t care what race they were. Lydia seemed pleased by that answer and announced that dinner was over. She invited them all to stay the night and assured them they would be free to leave in the morning.
Blackbast graciously accepted her offer but insisted they be allowed to visit the palanquin. Lydia readily agreed and rose from her seat before calling for some servants. She instructed them to prepare rooms for their guests before offering to lead the group to the palanquin. She then took them on a tour of the castle, explaining her choices as they passed down the massive corridors. She took them out into the night and across the courtyard to a building that resembled a barn. Just inside rested the doors was a dark but clean space in which rested the palanquin.
“There you go,” Lydia said with a wave. “I will leave you to it and wait in the house. I hope you understand I had no desire to actually steal it. I simply wanted to bring you here.”
Heather went to speak, but Blackbast held up a hand to silence her, and they all waited until Lydia walked away. Just before she reached the doors on the other side, she called to remind them that it was dangerous to walk in the forest at night.
“Do you think she means it?” Frank asked as the strange woman went inside.
“Ok, stop!” Heather shouted and turned on Frank. The look on her face was one of absolute frustration as she tried to get her words out. “I have been biting my tongue all night. You just plunk down next to me, looking like a model, and I have to pretend nothing is wrong. Do you have any idea how out of my mind I have been going? What the heck is this?” She reached out and poked him in the chest as if unable to believe he was real. “How did you take this form?”
“I can explain,” he said in defense as she started to squeeze one of his arms.
“Save some of that for me,” Quinny said and latched on to his other arm.
“Hey! Hands off my fiance!” Heather scolded and slapped her off.
“He’s only your fiance because Gwen made you agree to marry him,” Quinny countered.
“Will you two stop behaving like girls,” Breanne scolded. “I am sure there is a logical explanation for this, and I am sure Blackbast is that explanation.”
All eyes turned to Blackbast, who nodded with a slight smile before admitting she made this possible.
“But how?” Quinny said. “You made Frank a hottie.”
Blackbast sighed and instructed Frank to produce the statue. When he did, she explained why she had it and gave it to Frank to solve his problem.
“Oh, it's just like my bird statue,” Heather said as she handled the ghoul-shaped figurine. She put it back in his hand and looked deep into his eyes with a pleasing smile. She finally turned to Blackbast and asked the obvious question. “So, you had this just in case a visitor wanted a man instead of a woman.”
“Exactly,” Blackbast replied. “And I want Frank to keep it.”
“What?” Frank said as he whirled around. “I can’t keep this. You need it.”
“You need it more,” Blackbast replied. “You can hardly expect to attend your wedding looking like a ghoul.”
Frank put a hand to the side of his head as he shook it in disbelief. “I can't marry Heather.”
“What? Why not?” Heather said in alarm, then blushed deeply as she realized how she sounded.
“So, the princess has suddenly had a change of heart,” Quinny mocked. “Now that he's all pretty, she isn't so worried about the marriage.”
“Don’t say it like that!” Heather snapped. “I admit I am shallow, but I was going to marry him anyway.”
“Yeah, because you had to,” Quinny accused. “But in your mind, it was going to be like Gwen and Finneous, just a formality to get the job done. But now that he's good-looking, you want an actual marriage, don't you?”
“Quinny!” Heather cried. “Why are you being so mean to me?”
“Why are you being so mean?” Breanne asked as she looked on confused.
Quinny looked between Heather and Frank before turning away.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to see where our rooms are and go to bed,” she said and walked out, heading across the courtyard.
They watched in stunned silence until Heather turned to the group in confusion.
“Did I do something wrong?”
