Monday, March 11, 2019

107 - “Late to Dinner” - Eddiwarth - A Tale of Heroes

Here's how you can read the story a week (two scenes) ahead of everyone else!


“Dinner’s ready!” Eddiwarth proclaimed, bursting through the door from the kitchen. “Roast venison with potatoes and cabbage!” His thin, mostly elvish frame was covered in a long apron, which was damp, dirty, and scattered with vegetable peelings. He had pulled his hair back to keep it out of his eyes, and out of the food as he’d worked. In his arms, he carried flat baskets full of bread loaves into the large hall and set them on the table. Behind him came several of the brother monks bearing steaming trays and bowls full of meat and vegetables. The final two brothers brought out pitchers of ale.

The other brethren of the order sat, eagerly waiting, on either side of the long table. Next to them were Granthurg on one side, and Antonerri and a very tired DeFrantis on the other. Eddiwarth pulled his chair up next to Granthurg, between him and the monks.

“Venison!” The Giant shouted, taking a deep smell as the tray of seasoned meat was carried past him. “What’s the occasion?” The brothers set the trays and bowls on the table, then turned to retrieve more.

One of them paused on the way. “It’s the feast of St Ivarr! Our Father Abbot will be celebrating a special Mass at midnight, but now, we feast!” He hurried after his companions, to bring out more food.

Granthurg looked quizzically at one of the monks seated next to Antonerri. “Who was St Ivarr?”

The brother smiled broadly. “He’s a Defensor Creator, or a Champion of the Creator, and the patron saint of our order! Once a year we celebrate his great sacrifice by feasting, prayer, and a special service in the chapel!”

DeFrantis looked confused. “A celebration? Nobody mentioned this before!”

“Oh, yeah.” Eddiwarth jumped in, “While we were making dinner, the brothers were all talking about it. I guess he’s kind of an unpopular saint.”

A brother said, “Many, many years ago, he saved the Church of Three Lights from an evil demon who was trying to take it over! He died fighting for the Lights.” Antonerri’s eyebrows rose in interest, before the monk continued, “But in recent years, the church councils and archbishops have kind of disgraced him, swept him aside. But we, here, in the woods... We remember what he did. So, we don’t make a big fuss about it, but we feast!”

Eddiwarth smiled, shrugging. “So, what is he the saint of?”

The Father Abbot and his assistants entered the dining hall, brown robes flowing. In instant, everyone jumped to their feet. As he rose, the brother whispered with a smile, “He’s the patron saint of heretics!”

The monks all stood with their heads bowed and their hands before them in a praying posture with the right hand’s palm cupped over the back of the left. Antonerri did it as well. After a moment, DeFrantis joined them.

The Father Abbot began pronouncing a blessing in a language Eddiwarth didn’t understand. Eddiwarth glanced over at Granthurg, who simply bowed his head. They were guests of the monastery, and were not required to participate in the rituals, but sometimes Eddiwarth wondered. Does Granthurg actually believe in The Creator? Maybe he’s just being respectful. Antonerri obviously does. He goes right along with it all. DeFrantis, I don’t know. 

The priest finished the prayer, and pronounced, “Salvator, Servus, Sui.” As each of the words was spoken, the monks held their right palms forward, first, before their heads, then to the right and slightly lower, and finally, with the final word, to the left and just a bit lower still, mimicking the placement of the three lights in the Church's heraldry. Eddiwarth watched as Antonerri followed the pattern. Yeah, he believes it, that’s for sure. I wonder if--Wait--Where’s Thissraelle?

The ritual complete, all of the monks sat and began sharing the food around the tables. The friends did also, except for Eddiwarth.

“Hey, where are the other two girls?” He pointed to the empty spaces next to Granthurg and DeFrantis, where Thissraelle and Karendle usually sat.

Granthurg shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure the ladies,” he said, raising his brows at the emphasis, “will be along soon. Here! Sit down. Have some potatoes.” He handed a bowl to Eddiwarth.

Yeah. Maybe they’re just running late...


This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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