Post by Greebo on Oct 15, 2020 7:03:08 GMT
Carl, still a little disgruntled at being woken up to deal with this, takes a step back as the spell slowly starts to take effect. The cat is standing nearby watching intently as the statue of a smartly dressed man, albeit in a rather odd pose, starts to shift back into a living, breathing person. As the last of the stone recedes and the Butler wobbles on his feet a little, the cat turns to him,
“Thank you Carl, I very much appreciate the sterling work you do here.”
“‘S fine” he stifles a yawn, “Jus’.... um… don’t make too much noise on the way out. It’s still very early and we could hear the last one you brought in all the way down the street.”
“I assure you, this one will be quite easier to manage than Goose Hiss was... Goodnight Carl”
“Yeah, G’night” Carl shuffles off to his quarters again, mumbling to himself as he goes “Where does he even get these-”
The Butler begins to shift. Almost imperceptibly at first, then a tentative blink of the eyes, a careful movement of limbs unfolding again for the first time in weeks. A grimace races across the usually carefully composed face, as blood begins to circulate once more and the overpowering flood of sensation returning all at once washes over his nervous system. Henry groans, then stands up and looks at the patiently waiting form of Greebo sitting before him, the tail lazily shifting this way and that.
“I… pardon me, Lord Berenwald, I seem to have lost my wits in that cave... Would you mind terribly to enlighten me on what has transpired? I confess, I am not clear on the details… Where are we?”
“Back in the city, my friend.” The cat says, standing with a stretch and padding his way over to the Butler, ”I’m afraid it has been a number of weeks now but… on our foray into the cave, the Dao released a Medusa-like creature that petrified you in an instant. We had meant to draw it out into the light to despatch it but as soon as we left, the Dao sealed up the cave claiming you as her newest… artwork.” The last word being said with clear distaste. ”How are you feeling? Carl is rather good at his work but you were in there for quite some time...”
Henry flexes and rolls his shoulders with a wince. “I am no worse for wear, thank you for asking. It is… coming back to me. How did you recover me, if the Dao sealed me in? And…” he casts about, unsure, a hint of fear in his voice, “where is my master, the Baron? Surely no ill has befallen him?”
“The Baron was quite fine but… well, perhaps you should take a seat.” Greebo pads off to a nearby bench in the Temple of Selune and waits for Henry to follow suit before continuing. “Getting you back was actually the joint effort of a number of us. Lord Jaezred and Alenea both returned with me to retrieve you, along with Wren, a young man named Whistler and one Ms Laurel Shortstride. After our last visit, we managed to make our way directly into the cave ourselves and once inside, we confronted the Dao. She returned to her previous trick of releasing the creature upon us, only this time we actually convinced it to turn and fight with us instead.”
Greebo looks to Henry expecting him to be eager for more details on the tense battle but instead notes the distinct look of concern etched on his face. “... As for the Baron, well... he accompanied us back to Daring, safely of course. But he seemed to have been deeply shaken by your loss. Soon after we got back I believe he actually took his leave back for Cormyr.” Greebo shuffles, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench for a moment. “Your charge seems to have returned home my friend.”
Henry’s eyes go wide at the news, and for ever so briefly the world is awash in colours as the emotions flow over him. He exhales, and the tide of colour recedes - except for the cat sitting before him, still painted in ermine and ashen, emerald eyes shining like the stars in the night’s sky above.
“So the Baron returned home. Safe at last…” he hangs his head for a moment, contemplating the implications, then fixes his eyes on Greebo and bends the knee to level with the feline.
“I owe you my life, Lord Berenwald. You have my deepest thanks. If not for you, I would have remained a prisoner in that cave, for all eternity. This is a debt I must repay. Honour and etiquette demand it.”
A smile appears as quickly as it vanishes again, tucked away behind an armour of decorum.
“I will of course have to seek out my master in Cormyr, but if he managed to leave this land, he will have arrived at his estate safely. I have no worry on this account. But I shall take some time to first honour my debts to you, my lord. Might you have use for a manservant?”
“It has been many years since I had the use, or even need of such assistance. Not since Otti anyway…” He trails off for a second before refocusing and drawing himself up to his full height, all 29cm of it, “Good sir, I don’t consider there to be a debt owed, especially since it would not have even been possible without the assistance of the others, but I won’t say no if honour demands it of you. I should say, however, that you are not bound to my service. Should you feel the need to go off in search of the Baron, or anything else for that matter, you are free to do so. You are your own man after all”
This elicits a slightly puzzled look that is politely ignored.
“You are much too kind, my lord. I shall serve, for a time; honour must. Now…”
The Butler rises and squints out the door of the temple at the night sky, the first hints of sunlight cresting the horizon.
“... how does my lord prefer his breakfast tea?”
Greebo licks his whiskers.
“With a lot of milk.”
Written in collaboration with Ian
“Thank you Carl, I very much appreciate the sterling work you do here.”
“‘S fine” he stifles a yawn, “Jus’.... um… don’t make too much noise on the way out. It’s still very early and we could hear the last one you brought in all the way down the street.”
“I assure you, this one will be quite easier to manage than Goose Hiss was... Goodnight Carl”
“Yeah, G’night” Carl shuffles off to his quarters again, mumbling to himself as he goes “Where does he even get these-”
The Butler begins to shift. Almost imperceptibly at first, then a tentative blink of the eyes, a careful movement of limbs unfolding again for the first time in weeks. A grimace races across the usually carefully composed face, as blood begins to circulate once more and the overpowering flood of sensation returning all at once washes over his nervous system. Henry groans, then stands up and looks at the patiently waiting form of Greebo sitting before him, the tail lazily shifting this way and that.
“I… pardon me, Lord Berenwald, I seem to have lost my wits in that cave... Would you mind terribly to enlighten me on what has transpired? I confess, I am not clear on the details… Where are we?”
“Back in the city, my friend.” The cat says, standing with a stretch and padding his way over to the Butler, ”I’m afraid it has been a number of weeks now but… on our foray into the cave, the Dao released a Medusa-like creature that petrified you in an instant. We had meant to draw it out into the light to despatch it but as soon as we left, the Dao sealed up the cave claiming you as her newest… artwork.” The last word being said with clear distaste. ”How are you feeling? Carl is rather good at his work but you were in there for quite some time...”
Henry flexes and rolls his shoulders with a wince. “I am no worse for wear, thank you for asking. It is… coming back to me. How did you recover me, if the Dao sealed me in? And…” he casts about, unsure, a hint of fear in his voice, “where is my master, the Baron? Surely no ill has befallen him?”
“The Baron was quite fine but… well, perhaps you should take a seat.” Greebo pads off to a nearby bench in the Temple of Selune and waits for Henry to follow suit before continuing. “Getting you back was actually the joint effort of a number of us. Lord Jaezred and Alenea both returned with me to retrieve you, along with Wren, a young man named Whistler and one Ms Laurel Shortstride. After our last visit, we managed to make our way directly into the cave ourselves and once inside, we confronted the Dao. She returned to her previous trick of releasing the creature upon us, only this time we actually convinced it to turn and fight with us instead.”
Greebo looks to Henry expecting him to be eager for more details on the tense battle but instead notes the distinct look of concern etched on his face. “... As for the Baron, well... he accompanied us back to Daring, safely of course. But he seemed to have been deeply shaken by your loss. Soon after we got back I believe he actually took his leave back for Cormyr.” Greebo shuffles, trying to get comfortable on the hard bench for a moment. “Your charge seems to have returned home my friend.”
Henry’s eyes go wide at the news, and for ever so briefly the world is awash in colours as the emotions flow over him. He exhales, and the tide of colour recedes - except for the cat sitting before him, still painted in ermine and ashen, emerald eyes shining like the stars in the night’s sky above.
“So the Baron returned home. Safe at last…” he hangs his head for a moment, contemplating the implications, then fixes his eyes on Greebo and bends the knee to level with the feline.
“I owe you my life, Lord Berenwald. You have my deepest thanks. If not for you, I would have remained a prisoner in that cave, for all eternity. This is a debt I must repay. Honour and etiquette demand it.”
A smile appears as quickly as it vanishes again, tucked away behind an armour of decorum.
“I will of course have to seek out my master in Cormyr, but if he managed to leave this land, he will have arrived at his estate safely. I have no worry on this account. But I shall take some time to first honour my debts to you, my lord. Might you have use for a manservant?”
“It has been many years since I had the use, or even need of such assistance. Not since Otti anyway…” He trails off for a second before refocusing and drawing himself up to his full height, all 29cm of it, “Good sir, I don’t consider there to be a debt owed, especially since it would not have even been possible without the assistance of the others, but I won’t say no if honour demands it of you. I should say, however, that you are not bound to my service. Should you feel the need to go off in search of the Baron, or anything else for that matter, you are free to do so. You are your own man after all”
This elicits a slightly puzzled look that is politely ignored.
“You are much too kind, my lord. I shall serve, for a time; honour must. Now…”
The Butler rises and squints out the door of the temple at the night sky, the first hints of sunlight cresting the horizon.
“... how does my lord prefer his breakfast tea?”
Greebo licks his whiskers.
“With a lot of milk.”
Written in collaboration with Ian