A Norrathian Adventure

It was late in the afternoon as the sun was setting over the Antonican mountains when his Aunt called them from the backyard terrace. Tristan and his older brother were building another griffon suit and had managed to partially sew together one of the wings. It was their third attempt at fastening the wing, and while Tristan had enough leather for them to work with he just couldn't get the stitch pattern down right. There was so much fun in going out and hunting the various animals and then bringing them back to the house to make beautiful hides out of the skins, that he felt disappointed when they had to let one go to waste. His brother had successfully completed a griffon suit last season that he used to travel to school with in the winter, the hood staying down of course upon entering the building.

Tristan watched as his brother showed him a few different ways to stitch the hides together. "If you place your fingers between the two pieces," His brother placed his index finger and thumb together, "And hold them just like so, you can create the stitch pattern that I showed you yesterday much easier and faster than you're doing now."

Tristan spent another half hour attempting to hold the leather pieces just so. Finally he got it, and successfully stitched together two pieces of leather better than he ever had before. Still, with the size of the suit he wanted, it would take days to properly sew together the required pieces. "What if we just have Aunt Ona cast one of her spells and transfer the pieces into a complete set? I know she can do it, as she did that one time we were lost in Archers' Wood and needed food she summoned cooked meat for us." Tristan looked hopeful at his brother.

"You know that takes a lot of energy for such a spell, and would take hours to recharge." His brother replied, smiling at Tristan. "Besides, you aren't getting away that easily, as it took me months to learn from the Qeynos Tanner's Association of Tanning Tanners, how to do this. And after all, it is a valuable trade that you'll learn to profit from someday."

Tristan knew that and was partially thankful for his brother's teachings, even if they were a bit confusing at times. He didn't mind really as the whole process was rather fun, it just often took most of his time simply learning how to get it done right, time that he also would sometimes prefer to spend reading about the history of Norrath at the old library.

There were stories in the library originating from centuries ago that spoke of creatures and places he could only dream about at present and wished he would see one day. One place in particular, a place named Kelethin, was a lost city he actually wrote his own story about. Unfortunately, upon sending it to the Norrathian Association of Creative Writers office to get it published, weeks later he received a rejection letter with a gnome faced gift card inside. For his hard work the gift card they sent him amounted to only a month of free riding on the griffon express routes. At the bottom in extremely small print the card read, "Not applicable to the Commonlands routes."

As he moved his thumb over the provided route map on the back of the card, the image flowed as if changed by an ocean's tide, revealing more but only in the direction towards their farm from each of the griffon stations. That was interesting, he thought. Too bad the nearest griffon tower appeared to be just outside of Qeynos, which was a good two days journey from here and one that was opposite of his school. His Aunt was too busy to take him, and his brother spent too much time with his friends hunting creatures near Thundering Steppes. His brother having already planned the next day's hunting activities; Tristan found he was stuck here with his Aunt. He really did want to see Qeynos too, which was by far one of the biggest cities in the entire continent. His brother had been there a few times, and promised to one day take Tristan. He couldn't wait to begin exploring the tanning shops, libraries, and whatever else he happened to come across in the huge city. Maybe he'd even get a chance to visit the alchemist and strike up a new spell or two.

"You better get in here before you miss the carpet!" He awoke from his stupor as his Aunt called them again from the back terrace of the house. One of the things he never got tired of was flying on the carpet to school. It was rather wonderful and quite a treat to sail so high above the trees in the warm breeze of the summertime season. Once, every month or so, the school would send out a couple of flying carpets to round up all the nearby children. They didn't do it very often as the spells were expensive and the carpets had to be maintained by high class magicians, but once in awhile when the kids were good the school would reward the children for their hard work. Today was one of those days, so he didn't waste a moment getting into the house and grabbing breakfast before running out the front door, almost forgetting his pouch and favorite pen and parchment pack.

The school building itself was originally an old church from sometime before the cataclysm. It certainly had an aged and decaying atmosphere about it, with chipped away stone walls and a few windows on the first floor that showed stress cracks in them. Even the shingles on the roof would occasionally fall off and hit the school kids upon entering. They would also have a bad tendency to regularly strike Tristan, especially if he happened to perform poorly on a given test that day. Tristan thought the regular occurrences a bit of a coincidence. He wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if the church itself had a life of its own, albeit a dying life that threatened to collapse any moment from structural fatigue. Tristan heard rumors about a plan for a new school, but the major delay was sufficient construction giants to get the job done and lift the required stones in place. They were apparently all working in Qeynos on the new city square in preparation for another `Antonia Bayle' day.

For the rest of the day at school he worked on several projects, but the one he was most proud of was the final pages of a short story he had been struggling to complete for the past few weeks. It was a tale of an adventurous band of heroes set out upon a quest to bring together their local community, the perils and rewards of such a task, and the final triumph over the evil farmers that invaded the lands and took their cows and chickens, and sometimes their gold too. His teacher seemed to like it enough, and was willing to even post it in next month's Norrathian Association of Creative Writers For Children-Issue 50. Upon his departure from school at the end of the day, he smiled at not being hit by a random shingle off the school's roof. "Today was a good day." he thought.

And so, his adventures and success continued for another eight years upon his completion of junior schooling and entrance into the College for Aspiring Abbot's, a prestigious church on the north shore of Antonica. There, they taught older students the craft of the church and protecting it using your own body, not weapons that men create from rock and wood. Training included several hours of outside work-outs, class room teachings, and quite often the fending off of bugs that crept into his bed at night from the cracks in the floorboards of the aging monastery.

Tristan became quite skilled at his craft and soon enjoyed the task of defending against the regular horde of undead skeletons, and occasionally Molly ChinBreaker, an obnoxious undead ghost that if one came too close to her, she would swing her fist right at your face, usually connecting at your jaw if you weren't paying attention. Once, Tristan managed to crack his own good fist punch at her, unfortunately it went right through her transparent body, and due to the momentum of the swing (and the slight drop-off they were near), he fell head first into the deep ocean waters below. Luckily, a group of friends were near at the time. They ran back to the abbot to get the help from a teacher, who promptly used an emergency levitation spell to pull Tristan out of the waters below.

After several more encounters with Molly, Tristan become rather good at finding Molly ChinBreaker's weaknesses and impressed his friends in his new fighting styles that he learned from the academy. After several shots at Molly, Tristan eventually managed to keep her away from the academy grounds indefinitely. In his triumph and skill with using the arts of the academy for its defense, Tristan was awarded a statue of honor with a creature design of his choice. He chose the griffon of course. Still, even with all of his success he didn't feel truly happy at the academy. Days would go by where he'd sit on that very bluff he fell off of and he would think about the previous adventures he had and the need inside him to write about those adventures. Fighting and doing good for the land was a rewarding experience, but he wanted to do more, so he set about finally moving to the city of Qeynos after he graduated from the academy.

It was difficult leaving his aunt and brother, although he simply couldn't pass up the prospect of living a Qeynosian life. Working hard at his crafts and getting to know many in the city, his reputation grew in both his writing and fighting arts where he eventually became noticed by an elite group known as the `Qeynos Guard'. They approached him with an offer to become a member of their group. It was an opportunity of a lifetime and one he couldn't pass up. It wasn't long before he became good friends with several of the Guard's members. They would regularly travel to the town square and watch plays and enactments of various ancient battles. The actors were quite good at their craft and something Tristan later incorporated into one of his stories.

His friends one night gathered inside Tristan's newly acquired house on the south side of Qeynos to act out one of the roleplays they saw earlier that day. By the age of twenty-two, Tristan was quite skilled in the art of weapons, even though he started out as an apprentice Monk. Having fashioned some of the armor himself and purchasing most of the weapons they had on hand, they played around until they were exhausted from swinging the heavy swords and shields.

"You're getting quite fast with that blade, Tristan." One of his friends proclaimed. "You swing it any faster and I'll be leaving fingers on your floor!" They all laughed even though they actually were getting quite aggressive lately.

"I think we need a break and a cold ale at the local tavern, which if I remember correctly from our jaunt here, the tavern should be just across the way." His other friend pointed eagerly out the nearest window.

Tristan shook his head, smiling. "How many times have you been here and you still can't find your way?" They laughed at that and headed out to the tavern across the way and the around back, almost the opposite direction his friend pointed towards. They were approaching the tavern, when to their surprise they heard music coming from the open doors. Tristan never recalled any music coming from the place before. Upon entering the establishment, they edged their way towards the back to watch a group playing a series of instruments on a make-shift stage.

Taverns in these days were places of relaxation, getting together with friends, learning about the local gossip, and of course having fun. While Tristan had been spending more time in the taverns lately, he never had seen a band before until this one. The band was composed of three humans and one dwarf, each with a musical instrument of different sizes and shapes. The dwarf was carrying some sort of small fiddle while one of the humans held onto a small drum set, and the other two were both playing together on an instrument that appeared to contain many small buttons. Tristan and his friends listened for hours before the band took a rest.

The silence that followed was interrupted by a smelly fat old barbarian sitting next to Tristan. "Fine music I tell ya. Of all the places I've seen, and mind you I've seen many of them, I've never heard of a group perform so well before."

As the stranger was talking it was quite clear to Tristan the man was drunk. Every time the stranger opened his mouth he ended up spilling most of his drink over Tristan's shirt, thoroughly drenching it. Tristan wished he could get away from the man but found that the tavern was quickly filling up with visitors from both entrances. "Just wait until you hear the ladies singing and flute playing. She's so good she'll set your heart on fire and make you dance on cold ice at the same time." The drunken barbarian laughed an awful laugh that splattered more ale over Tristan's shirt. The only thing interesting about the barbarian at all was the fact that he happened to go to the same academy Tristan went to, but way before Tristan's time of course. "Oh, and her she is!" The barbarian gave him a surprisingly gentle shove as everyone in the tavern turned towards the stage.

The establishment instantly became quiet as a lady approached from a side room; almost seemingly float across the walkway and onto the center of the stage. Tristan instantly was entranced, and he wasn't sure it was the beautiful music she began playing on her dulcimer, or the empowering beauty that seemed to eminent in an aura around her. The music would sweep across the crowd in such a way as Tristan swore he saw the whole place slowly sway from one side to the other at the melody. He found himself swaying too, and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the ale. The music lasted for what seemed like hours, until finally the lady ended with a thankful bow to the crowd.

"You're a damn fool!" The barbarian came up to him again and shouted in Tristan's left ear after the music had ended and most of the place had dispersed. Being so loud, the rest of the tavern visitors turned towards the sudden commotion. "A beautiful wood elf female like that and you're staring at her like you got stunned by Molly ChinBreaker and didn't know what to do about it." He slapped Tristan on the back and practically threw him halfway onto the stage in front of the lady.

Pulling himself up from the stage floor, Tristan dusted his shirt off and introduced himself to the lady, who at first didn't know quite what to say. Tristan took that as an invitation to continue. "Please, may I get you a drink at the bar? Perhaps a Blue Bull, with a touch of what I like to call, bubbly mix?" She seemed intrigued by the drink's description, and by his company after he told her how much he enjoyed her performance.

They spent quite a bit of time together after that first evening, so much time in fact that after they had gotten married that following spring, she helped him finish his latest story while he helped her develop her music. The story was sent to the Norrathian Association of Creative Writers and within three weeks he received an acceptance letter, including a lifetime pass on all griffon express routes, no limitations apply! Finding much success in his future as his influence and popularity increased across Norrath, he sat down with his wife and friends and planned out what would be the next best thing that Norrath should have. A paper game where your goal was to take control of a character in Norrath and adventure into areas you'd dare not go in the real Norrath. It turned out to be as great a success as his book, earning him the respect and admiration of his apprentice follows that one day aspired to achieve what he had. He couldn't imagine a happier moment in his life.