Post by Michael on Jun 14, 2023 7:06:37 GMT
On a balmy summer morning in Daring Heights, the occupants of Portal Plaza are treated not only to the seasonably good weather but to the sounds of a strange sonorous melody that bobs across the square. If they were to follow this resounding refrain to edge of the plaza, there they would find a tall rustic yet genteel figure of a firbolg, playing upon an almost humorously small curved brass instrument. it’s entire minuscule body reverberating with each warm breath of creativity, that gentle giant bequeathes it.
“Have you got any radishes today Julius dear?” A sweet little granny harengon’s voice burbles up though the music, her voice tweaking the Firbolg’s long ears.
“Ah! Well howdy’doody’der Mrs Appleblossom!” The Firbolg musician announces, ceasing his playing to produce a warm smile and small woven basket filled with the most vibrant assortment of radishes.” Your usual two dozen-and a few extra!”
“Oh Julius bless your soul!” The Harengon laughs, as with surprising heft, she adds the produce to her shopping basket before paying. “Business good I presume?”
“As good as the good Mother provides,” Julius replied, admiring the bountiful harvest of vegetables that bedeck his storefront. “Though it seems she has provided in more ways than one for me recently-I’ve had the joy of partaking in a adventure of sorts it seems.” He smiled as his eyes travelled across the busy morning plaza and find the almost discreet nook of Hundor’s Stew Shack, his favourite hole in the eatery, and the source of the unexpected adventure that had simmer over these past months few.
————
“Well howdy’doody’der Miss, always a pleasure to see a new face amongst friends here! Would you care to join us?”
That had been the politely declined offer made to the new hooded female red-haired missus that had appeared one January lunchtime, in the comforting surroundings of Hundor’s Stewstack.
Before he’d even had time to enjoy another spoonful of today’s delectable stew-with extra celery-a misguided youngling had attempted to make off with the new miss’s bag. Only to be stopped swiftly, reprimanded accordingly and sent on his way by the quick-fingered Theo-presumed asparagus fan-from amongst the table of his seated lunchtime friends, ‘The Stewards.’
The woman had thanked them all for their assistance, and stated that in return for their collective concern, she would be forever be indebted, and for that reason they would ‘all be spared’. Before with a dramatic a swirl of her cloak, she had seemingly just vanished-before there vary eyes.
Lunch and a show?-Why how nice.
————
February had then bloomed beautiful and blue, though with an air upset in it too.
Julius’s dear older Rulius arm had been badly injured in gnoll attack upon the farm, meaning he was a rather behind on his cabbage harvesting for the season-a delay which his poor tortle customers be mourned all too well.
He had just been hearing the new of further gnoll attacks and even some bandit trouble up north from his lunch pals, when the young keen eyed Valrius-summer pears-had spotted their mysterious hooded-friend from a few weeks prior, appear from the Portal as if unseen by the Portal worker, and begin drift off into town.
Suspecting that perhaps she may be up to-as his countless hours of Watch-training had no doubt engrained upon him to appraise-“No Good,” Valrius annouced that they should tail her.
Julius suggested perhaps she may merely just be in need a friend-no need to jump to assumptions so bleak.
It was at over hearing this discussion from his fire-side position stirring the stew, that the shack-chef Hundor reminded the his self-appointed nickname for their group, ‘The Stewarts.’ Presenting them with the idea of as acting as an almost honorary citizenry guardianship of the town. Finally adding that from his experience, people alway made the best decisions when they just allowed themselves to just 'Go with their gut.'
So with gourds full of stew-to-go, the group followed after the mysterious lady at their own varying paces, Julius stopping along the way to wish a “Good afternoon!” to the passing milk tortle, or to smell some of the fresh spring flowers blooming brightly in a window box.
The group had reconvened once more after tranversing some mazelike back streets of town infront of the gated entrance to a tall wooden-fenced plot of sorts. Its walls were mantled with a most delightful species ivy that Julius had began to immediately and enthusiastically examine. While his short temper statured-carrot loving-Harengon milkman friend Clover, had honed in with their remarkable-ears and caught parts of an exchange being between the cloaked red-haired lady and some strange, apparently un-notable, gentleman over the wall beyond: Something about a horn.
Whilst his ears had still burned with the embarrassment that his ebullient examinations of the ivy had caused a large section to suddenly shed off, scattering the conversationists beyond, as well as ruining the natural sculpting of the wall's postiche. Amongst his friends contemplating the topic of this overheard discussion, Julius had suggested the idea that-'perhaps they were in the process of putting a band', and wondered if they would welcome the addition a gnome-sousaphone player to their set.
Upon a quick inspection of the now-vacated plot, they had found nothing untoward except a patch of scorched earth, and a little clump of curiously pretty minuet purple flowers. A kind of which Julius had never come across before, and so had scooped up a sample gently with one large hand with into his breast pocket to add to his modest garden back home.
What a worth while lunchtime expedition this had been.
————
It wasn’t until March, on the day of Highcoin-one of twelve festivals of Waukeen, that anything further of particular of note had happened.
After making a wonderful sum on his display of veggies from the coin-happy festival goers, Julius had accompanied his friends in a post-lunch wander amongst festivities, making his own generous purse-based celebration of the day in the purchasing of a handsomely pompadoured silkie chicken.
The group had just been entering the livestock market-as he’d been debating between the names of Edward-or Gregory-when the fence to the lively goat pen had just seemingly collapsed, causing a herd of goats to hurtle out into the streets surrounding it.
Seeing the chaos that had ensued, Julius had recalled back his mother’s knack for corralling in the herds at milking time, and so stepped around the bleating kids into the pen, readying to throw back his head and bray. However inhaling a stray piece of plumage from his new feathered friend’s coiffure, had resulted in more of a spluttering-squawk than commanding-bleat.
Only as the last of the animals were being re-penned once more, did Den the brawny Half-Elf follower of Waukeen-and legume lover-spot a familiar cloaked-figure, making her way down the temple steps, pausing only to pass off a small symbol emblazoned pouch to a casually standing shepherd, before suddenly disappearing once again.
————
April 31st, Greengrass festival-a celebration of the first day of Spring and Julius’ favourite day of the year!
He had bedecked himself and his friends in flower garlands. and was happily parading about the day with a platter of Veggie-Canapés.
Then the Imps Blitz had begun, explosively bursting out from the urns of a freshly parked-up cart, and causing the people of the plaza to scatter in a panic. Whilst his friends took up their own means of defence, Julius had been too busy shielding civilians as he'd herded them inside. His platter deflecting the odd flying knife or root vegetables-some of which were his- that he’d not really noticed much else amongst the chaos.
The next day though, it only took Clover to say that he and Den, had yet again trailed their cloaked-compadre, before then losing them inside the halls of the Temple of Waukeen-for everyone to agree that something strange was a-stewing in the city-And it did not taste good!
Their unanimous course of action therefore was to visit the home of Councilwoman Aurelia, she was always a good customer of Julius’ and would surely know what to do.
Aurelia though was not at home, and in her stead they were greeted and treated to a generous spread of a loaf of bread, a mysterious unmarked barrel, and one slice of salami by a pale pretty young girl by the name of Sabrina.
Whilst his friends had filled Sabrina in on their story, Julius had busied himself in the kitchen by creating some of his famous Veggie-Toasts over the open fire-with small the addition of a few apron-pocket precured vegetables.
A tomato, some eggplant, and kohlrabi really do work in conjunction to create a delectable lunchtime feast.
Upon his course-carrying return, he'd realised they had been joined by an elegantly dressed lady known simply as-The Duchess.
As everyone munched, The Duchess explained her hunch that perhaps Julius and his friends were the benefactors of some kind of special-positive-curse, and that in fact she may require their help in spying a problem that, without their ‘gift’ may otherwise allude her.
The Duchess had led them to the Temple of Waken where-with some friendly chatter with the staff-she had been able to lead them to an inner sanctum, in which it was revealed the very the source of their excursion driven matter. An ornate mirror-upon which glancing in Julius had noticed a piece kohlrabi stuck in between front teeth for one- but also large glowing circle which the young tiefling of the group Varius, had described as ‘infernal’-Julius would have interpreted more of a shade of ‘indigo.’
With some clever cutlery work, Valrius had skilfully severed the explosive-demonic appetiser-the portal would of produced, before a high laugh echoed in the chamber around them, and all eyes where drawn to the curiously large mirror, from which stared the regal red-haired framed face of their lunchtime guest.
Despite confusing her stews from her soups, the striking lady-Druisella. Announced she would relent 'one final-time' in exercising her wraith upon their group as 'a gesture amongst friends', and that they should pray they would never again set eyes upon her.
Such a shame, just as they were finally getting aquatinted.
————
“Well!” Tutted the formidable form of Mrs Appleblossom with a disdain, “I do hope you won’t decide to go closing up shop to go chasing after dragons and gnolls, or be loosing yourself to the lures of the Feywild dear! Or who else would I get the supplies honey and apple roasted radishes from?”
“Heh, no need to go fretting about that Mrs Appleblossom, J.R. Roots isn’t up and moving anytime soon!”
The Firblog smiled, patting the wooden plaque that hung swinging gently from the shop canopy.
Sending the berating harrengon tottering off with a wave, Julius found his gaze drawn over to the stone steps of the temple, where after their encounter The Duchess had thanked them all for their services, promising eac a favourite of her debt whenever the fancy took them.
Clover had asked quizzically-if they had in fact actually ‘messed-up’ during their adventurous escapades, to which the Duchess had reassured them, motherly, that they had not.
“You were kind..” the voice of the elegant lady resonated in Julius’s mind, as he offered a piece of kale with smile to the hard working Largia the milk tortle as she lumbered dutifully by.
“...Daring Heights will always want for people like yourselves."
The firblorg exhaled happily, before breathing in the wonderful scent of the pottered purple bloom that had taken residence in a hanging basket.
He then once more took of his goblin sousaphone, puckering his lips once again to the embouchure of his sousaphone, before playing out another reverberant melody across plaza square.
