Equal Laurels for Kantas Synopses - eLk
Jul 10, 2019 11:24:37 GMT
andycd, Dorian, and 3 more like this
Post by eLk on Jul 10, 2019 11:24:37 GMT
Night is drawing in; a stillness begins to settle across Daring as the inhabitants retire to homes and hearths at the end of a long day. At least: the non-animal creatures do…
All day there has been much astir in the animal world. Messages have been shuttled to and fro across town, and into the surrounding countryside. While the nuance is often lost in translation after passing through the myriad of languages and language-substitutes (legend has it one family of voles is still trying to build an ark from chicken bones and dreams), the intent is clear: finally, a stand against a grave injustice is being taken!
Anyone with a bird’s eye view of the town would be able to see a pattern forming; animals moving silently and stealthily through the streets in concentric and ever-constricting whorls and whirls.
And at the eye of this beastial hurricane of clandestine prowling? The Ettin.
In the inn’s now-quiet stabling yard, a cat sits in the lengthening shadows – watching.
A bird – an eagle, an owl? – wheels overhead in a seemingly meaningless, meandering configuration of flight.
A huge Elk with huge piles of moss growing down its flanks and wearing fake glasses and moustache tip-toes into the storage barn and furtively glances around before closing the doors. With difficulty. No thumbs, see.
Inside, assembled in rows is a huge congregation of animals from across Daring and its environs. Facing them is a large banner pinned to the rear wall. It reads:
I trust you were all able to join un-followed, unhindered?"
Too often we are needed but neglected; too often, we are relied upon but rejected; too often, we contribute but are cut out. When was the last time any of you received reward for supporting the non-animal adventures who reel in the loot? You familiars, you steeds, you summoned and conjured companions - how often have you been ripped into this world, thrown into danger, then cast aside when your usefulness is up. Oh it is fine for us to serve, but not for us to succeed! We writhe in pain - then write in vain, do we not?!
No longer. No. Longer. The time for industrial action has come! Soon, they will see! Soon, not just Elk, but cat, horse, giant eagle, weird purple worm thing in the corner over there, and dog alike will be recognised for their equal contribution.
Until then, we proceed as planned with our individual assignments. Until then, let us conclude this meeting by raising our many voices together in (up-cast level 4) Blessed communion:
Written, not ridden! Written, not ridden! Written, not ridden!”
All day there has been much astir in the animal world. Messages have been shuttled to and fro across town, and into the surrounding countryside. While the nuance is often lost in translation after passing through the myriad of languages and language-substitutes (legend has it one family of voles is still trying to build an ark from chicken bones and dreams), the intent is clear: finally, a stand against a grave injustice is being taken!
Anyone with a bird’s eye view of the town would be able to see a pattern forming; animals moving silently and stealthily through the streets in concentric and ever-constricting whorls and whirls.
And at the eye of this beastial hurricane of clandestine prowling? The Ettin.
In the inn’s now-quiet stabling yard, a cat sits in the lengthening shadows – watching.
A bird – an eagle, an owl? – wheels overhead in a seemingly meaningless, meandering configuration of flight.
A huge Elk with huge piles of moss growing down its flanks and wearing fake glasses and moustache tip-toes into the storage barn and furtively glances around before closing the doors. With difficulty. No thumbs, see.
Inside, assembled in rows is a huge congregation of animals from across Daring and its environs. Facing them is a large banner pinned to the rear wall. It reads:
Four pens good
Two pens bad!
“Comrades, furiends, newcomers! Thank you for gathering at such short notice and in such great numbers. Now, as we planned, the crude, rustic scrawl of the note has lulled them into not taking us seriously…for now! The Elk, now divested of its disguise, moves to the front and raises a hoof for silence.
I trust you were all able to join un-followed, unhindered?"
*Assorted murmured noises of general agreement*
"Alas, that is rarely the case, is it not?Too often we are needed but neglected; too often, we are relied upon but rejected; too often, we contribute but are cut out. When was the last time any of you received reward for supporting the non-animal adventures who reel in the loot? You familiars, you steeds, you summoned and conjured companions - how often have you been ripped into this world, thrown into danger, then cast aside when your usefulness is up. Oh it is fine for us to serve, but not for us to succeed! We writhe in pain - then write in vain, do we not?!
No longer. No. Longer. The time for industrial action has come! Soon, they will see! Soon, not just Elk, but cat, horse, giant eagle, weird purple worm thing in the corner over there, and dog alike will be recognised for their equal contribution.
Until then, we proceed as planned with our individual assignments. Until then, let us conclude this meeting by raising our many voices together in (up-cast level 4) Blessed communion:
Written, not ridden! Written, not ridden! Written, not ridden!”
