Regional Dispatches
Fireseek 26, 593
At the trainingfield
by Pieter Sleijpen
On a small square surrounded by high stone walls two humans are sparring with each other
while being observed by a group of humans dressed for war. Both of the combatants are wearing
plate mail with closed helmets hiding their facial features and both of them are sparring with
blunted steel long swords and large wooden shields. They seem to be more or less equally skilled,
but the taller one seems somewhat distracted, though only an expert would notice it. The fight has
been going on for a minute or so when a tall broad shouldered man with short gray hair, a short
beard, simple clothing and a beautiful silver mace in his belt enters through a small wooden door.
It is not the man though that would draw much attention, even though he looks remarkably fit for a
man of his age. It is the large silver furred mastiff the size of a Danish dog and a remarkably
intelligent gaze that would draw peoples attention in any ordinary company. The attention of the
public is focussed on the fight, though they all politely acknowledge the arrival of the old man
and a few even greet the dog like he is an equal if not a superior.
The old man has not been there for more then a few seconds, when the smaller more lithe combatant
uses an opening, hitting the opponent who drops his sword on the ground while swearing loudly with a
low hoarse voice. The smaller opponents removes her helmet, shaking her long flowing brown hair lose,
showing the drenched face of a rather plain looking woman. Her voice though is strong and she radiates
a powerful commanding presence, showing little to no sign of the strenuous activities she had been
doing seconds before.
"Ha, Heltes, exactly the man I have been looking for. What do you think my chief of security here has
done wrong?"
The old man answers with a strong military like voice: "He executed the Krevel Maneuver quite poorly,
especially considering the fact that he was the man who taught you the counter-maneuver. Had this been a
real fight, he would have been dead."
The tall armored man, who by now has removed his helmet as well,
showing a worn face still grimacing with pain, groans "That is not exactly fair, Heltes! I have other
things on my mind then practicing my fighting skills. Besides a slight headache due to the festivities
yesterday, I also can't get my mind of the theft yesterday here at the temple."
The woman interrupts the tall man with a warm tender voice, moving towards the man and kissing him on
the cheek "I am sorry Lynwerd, my intentions where not to hurt you," her voice becoming more grim, "but
when this had been a real battle, you would have died and I don't want to lose you. You being distracted
is a poor excuse, an Ahlissan soldier or Scarlet Scum monk would have little mercy on you. Anyway, Heltes,
perhaps you can inform me on what happened last night at your place? I have spoken with Lanaerra, but she
was a bit difficult to understand. She kept giggling, all I could understand was something about a diaper,
Trithereon, puppy dolls and excellent advice for your pupils."
"Well, it is quite simple, a group of people entered the Dog's House at the dead of the night and they
left a small present for us to find. I am not sure I can laugh much about it, though I have to admit it
is much less troublesome then the theft that took place here while everybody was chasing the culprits
of the burglary in the Dog's House in Muckside. The burglars had put a diaper on the statue of Trithereon,
a large rattle in his hands and for each of my kids a puppy doll with a word of advice."
"What kind of advice?", the woman asks with a bit of a startled expression on her face.
"Things like 'Respect the Elderly', 'Obey your master', 'Down boy', 'Be sensible', and 'Behave'. That kind of things.
There was also a large piece of cloth with the text "NEMOUDIAN PUPPIES BEHAVE" on the altar. Some of my kids where quite
angry and I think it was their behavior as much as the texts that put Lanaerra in one of her giggling moods. Sometimes
I really wonder if the Court Wizard ever grew up. Anyway, as Lynwerd said, nothing has been stolen. I am a bit worried
about the apparent ease with which they sneaked in, but I never contemplated placing a real tight security. It is not
as if anybody wants to kill me in my sleep or that there is much of value to steal."
The woman looks as if contemplating somebody and then asks "Do you think both things are related?"
"Not likely. What happened at my place just shouts Olidamarra and I have no idea what they would want to do
with the stolen object. I think they just had a lucky break."
At that moment one of the spectators steps forward, "I am sorry madame, but the quartermaster asked me to
remind you that you had a meeting with him and the dwarf merchant about the weapons you wanted to buy."
The woman grimaces, "Yes, I was lucky enough to nearly forget that appointment. Why did I ever take this job?"
Lynwerd answers with a grin on his face "Because you love to tyrannize all the faithful within Sunndi."
With that, all people at the square start laughing, because they all know that nobody in a temple of Trithereon
would tyrannize anybody, least of all Reynallen and that she loved all parts of her job, including dreary
negotiations with greedy merchants.
Previous dispatches
Planting 12, 593 - Pitchfield, The Palace
Patchwall 7, 592 - In the bedchamber of Count Kestor of Corul
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