Jarring Dalmar to a point of semi-consciousness was the ringing of a falling stein made of pewter tumbling onto the hard, stone floor. As his mind began to swirl about and form a point within his brain where everything seemed to congeal into thought, Dalmar began to think about the stiffness of his bed. Letting out a yawn while keeping his eyes closed, waiting for the moment when he decided the time was right to invite the light into his current situation, he rolled over. But rather than meeting another side to his bed, Dalmar felt the sudden sensation of weightlessness as his body tumbled off the side of his strange, newly-found hard surface, and his eyes shot open only to view, for a moment, the onrush of Lars' breastplate screaming towards him as his face met flush with the insigna of the king. Dalmar fell off the top of the table where he had passed out last night. Dalmar's weight, interrupting Lars' rumbling snores emanating from the bench that ran alongside the table, caused Lars to erupt in a volcanic explosion of confusion and fury as Lars also rolled onto the ground swinging his arms about, brandishing a large metal cup as if it was a great war hammer. Dazed and soaked with last night's ale, the two men paused as their awarenesses met each other, and they laughed. Each of their minds flashed to bits and pieces of the previous night as that was all that seemed to remain of their night, and pointing at one another, they laughed. The raucous noise of realization echoed through the hall where the two warriors found the new day, dying slowly as the two men slowly met the pains of previous inebriation coupled by sleeping on a wooden table.
Lars grunted as he lifted himself to his feet as Dalmar's eyes glanced over the floor and table where not less than fiteen or twenty empty steins laid about the area where they had sat just hours before.Dalmar sat up as Lars hoisted himself into a large barrel of water and dunked his long, brown braids and head. Dalmar smacked his lips and continued to survey his surroundings. "Mornin'" Dalmar said with a chuckle as he pondered standing.
"Aye, and a few hours too soon, lad." Lars said as he threw his hair back, spraying streams of water about the room. Lars crossed the open floor and extended a hand to Dalmar, pulling him to his feet. Stubling for a moment, Dalmar soon found his balance and stretched, grabbing a stein and dunking it in the barrel of water. His body yearned for some sort of hydration as he thirttily gulped the water from the vessel.
"Ahh! That's the stuff!" Dalmar exclaimed, exhaling a mighty tone of satisfaction and wiping the residue of deep sleep from his eyes. Lars snickered, patting Dalmar on the back.
"Let's greet the day, lad. Dorian will be wondering where we are if he hasn't set his mind upon that exercise already" Lars said as he turned towards the opening in the wall. Dalmar nodded and turned to follow, trying to remember the events from last night. His mind was quite fuzzy as it was apparent that he had outdone himself. But he quickly put it behind him as he and Lars slowly trudged through the halls of the keep, winding their way through the passages and up the stairs to the mess hall where Dorian and Phillip sat in silence. Dorian's eyes flashed a look of annoyance at the two warriors' untimely entrance. Phillip paid no notice as his eyes scanned the pages of a wide, dusty tome. Swiftly behind Lars and Dalmar was the odor of ale and drunkards, and it quickly wafted across the bridges of Phillip and Dorian's noses.
"I was going to ask you where you were as we have been waiting for you, but I think I will rely on my senses for this one. I'm so very glad that you two have been able to occupy yourselves in the wake of things, and have so much time to do so." Dorian smirked as the sarcastic tone broke the silence of the room. "Accordingly, Polias is anxious to start moving in the direction of Sarat's communications between here and the desert. He wants to resolve the questions of safety and presence. This means we're done with fumbling around underneath the city for now. That's been left to the dealings of others in Polias' jurisdiction. " A sigh of relief came from Phillip and Lars as Dalmar leaned back in his chair. "Since you two have become such great friends, I've decided that we need to get a better idea of what we can expect and what is going on right now between here and the desert. This means that I'm sending you two on a scouting mission. You, Dalmar, because you've been out that way recently, and you, Lars, for backup. Safety in numbers and all that." Dorian paused, awaiting a response from Dalmar and Lars, but none came. "Good then. Head out after you've gotten yourselves cleaned up a bit, and we'll see you in a week's time. Feel free to come back early if you find something of note. Should you run late by more than a couple days, then we will start without you and your information. Understand?" Dorian took a drink of sweet fruit juice as he winced at its tartness, gasping softly at the surprise.
"Seems easy enough." Dalmar said smartly, giving an informal sort of salute in Dorian's general direction. Dalmar's eyes moved over to Lars who nodded in agreement.
"Aye, Dorian. Shall we be traveling as the king's men or as simple travelers?" Lars asked.
"I'll leave that up to you two, but if it were me, I'd probably dress casually for stealth and safety's sake" Dorian replied. Each of the two comrades nodded in agreement. "Ok then, we'll see you in a week...maybe" Dorian said as he stood up and headed for the halls of the keep. Turning as he paused, Dorian stuck his head back through the archway. "Lars, I have some things in my chambers for your journey" Dorian said. Lars' eyes rolled upwards in his head while his face remained forward, and a confused look came over his face. Dalmar, taking notice, raised his own eyebrow. Taking notice of Dorian missing presence, Lars turned to address Dalmar.
"Probably money or something" Lars said as he stood up to begin his morning meal. Phillip's eyes remained buried in his book. For a moment, Dalmar seemed distantly dispirited from the other two men in the room. He wondered why Lars felt the need to provide additional information to a seemingly innocuous statement. This struck him as odd, and it forced itself into his mind. Dalmar stood and grabbed an empty bowl, ready to fill it with the steaming contents of the large cauldron above the smoky fire. "Or something" Dalmar thought to himself, but as the smells of the roasting mutton lodged itself into his nostrils, his mind was diverted. "Mutton: yuck! Thank goodness for potatoes and carrots" he thought as he turned towards the table. As Dalmar's belly came alive, rumbling as he slowly filled it with meat and vegetables and softening it to a low bubble, Dalmar's mind released the wonder. Lars quickly finished his bowl of meat and gravy, and left the scene to gather his things for the journey before he and Dalmar. Lars was a good deal smaller in size than Dalmar, and far less requiring of sustenance. Dalmar relaxed as the dissident thoughts left his mind and the food calmed his body. He looked at Phillip who quickly flipped a page in his book, seemingly unaware of Dalmar's stare.
"Tell me something, Phillip. What's going...." Dalmar began as Phillip sharply interrupted.
"Don't ask me that question. I don't know, Zeke" Phillip said quickly. He head shifted position as he quickly looked up at Dalmar and smiled. Dalmar responded with a moment of looking confused and contemplative. Phillip returned to his book.
"Why?" Dalmar said quickly, trying to avoid Phillip's interruption once again. Phillip closed his book with an acute snap.
"Because, you dolt...." Phillip paused, emphasizing his slight annoyance at Dalmar's persistence. "If you two know everything and you are captured, then they will likely try to get that information out of you. But if you don't know anything, then there's no information for them to get. Got it?" Phillip tilted his head and raised his eyebrow at Dalmar to signal Dalmar's naivety. Dalmar paused and raised his eyebrow this time in annoyance. He scratched his head as he thought. The last couple of days had brought him back to a moment of belonging, a feeling of camaraderie. But in a small set of moments and conversation, all those feelings disappeared. This irked Dalmar. He understood the reasoning behind this sort of decision, but he could not dismiss this uneasy feeling. He would stand vigilant. Once again, the world, no matter how many flowers and sweet fruits it had to offer revealed itself to be one that could not separate itself from the thorns and poisons. They were two sides of the same leaf, so to speak, thus, he would, indeed, be vigilant. It was not that something was about, but that something was always about. Dalmar bit his lip and nodded as he kept his eyes fixed on Phillip's gaze.
"Got it." Dalmar said as he stood up, frustrated at this summary. He no longer found comfort in this food. For the first time in his life, he thought, he walked away from a perfectly good bowl of meat and gravy. But he found nothing of value in its contents. His mind was busy with other things made granite, strong and willful against any amount of distraction. These thoughts, at least for the moment, were a gleaming tower of mithril will, shielding the waves of disagreement and disappointment from the outside trying to get in. Dalmar walked with purpose through the halls of the castle, yet he did not know where he was going. Upon his person still dangled the weapons of warriors. He was not hungry. He had no desire to be faced with things that typically made him happy. He just wanted to stew on his thoughts and make sense of his universe. He wanted direction and purpose. He wanted to go and be somewhere, but he had no desire to interact with anyone or anything there. Dalmar was angry.
But then Dalmar stopped and took a deep breath.
Dalmar smiled slightly and exhaled heavily through his nose. He could not affect a world that was simply true to its nature. No, it was not him that should be the antithesis to this disorder. He had enough things about which to worry. He had made an oath of sorts to help Dorian and Polias. He had made a stronger oath to himself that he would find his friend, and together they would journey to Draftengil and Xander's domain. He was the antithesis to Xander. If he failed, then Xander would triumph. That would be the true chaos, and he was not about to let that happen. Dalmar would not fight this trifling, trivial incongruity - that would detract from the greater goal. Now was the time to put aside those sort of things, to lay down pride, to forget about whim, and to move forward towards the greater dawn and the brighter horizon. Dalmar recollected his thoughts. Dalmar, having not gotten full this morning, was hungry again, and with a few quick turns of the heel he entered the mess hall once again.
Invino Veritas
3/31/12
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