Wenn & Wolf Tales

wwe0100
~~~ Warmth of the Firehall ~~~

Awakened by a rap at the door, Wenndolyne vaguely heard the call to breakfast as it echoed down the hallway with the innkeeper on his rounds. She took her time in getting dressed, seeing that her sleeves were straight and laces of her bodice caught just so. She did her best to review her reflection in the small wash basin then decided it would all just have to do. She took a moment to clean the dust from her slippers before donning them. Her silver braid belt went on last and to that was tied the small purple velvet pouch, left to rest in its usual place at her hip. There was no real packing to be done, of course. She was wearing the new dress and one new chemise. The other clothing was folded and put into the cloth sack then secured to her satchel.

Breakfast sounded good to Wenn but she was hardly of a mind to appreciate it. She was in a new place. The first morning of discovery on such ventures most always proved exciting. Having come downstairs in no hurry, she apologized for being late, which the innkeeper graciously forgave. He noted that others had come and gone already. Twas the way of it, he said.

He had stood, upon her entrance, as did the three other men at the table, the last one after a swift kick from his friend, Wenn noted with a suppressed smile. She took her seat and waited for her breakfast to be delivered whilst looking about the table. There was of course the innkeeper and his wife and one of the other gentlemen appeared to be with wife as well. The couple looked rather meagerly dressed but clean and the wife returned a warm smile as Wenn caught her eye. Three other chairs at the small dining table were empty, then near the end sat the last two fellows.

The young man who had been prompted to stand, none so gently, continued his tale. Wenn listened, smiled to the server as her tart and mug of tea were brought, then tried to catch up to what the storyteller was telling.

"Aye, backed up to the lake it is. Practically in it, really. Covers a world o' ground. Took a long time to get the cart 'round to where they'd said t' take it. Didn't it, Malcolm?" He elbowed the other chap, since all their elbows were presently on the table, and this caused Malcolm to drop his half-eaten roll onto the tablecloth, butter-side-down of course. He scolded the other immediately, before swallowing the bite in his mouth even. "Dammit, Samuel! Look what ya done!" He picked up the roll about the time it dawned on him that he'd sworn with ladies present. His face was apology enough. Wenn was even more grateful that he'd taken a moment to swallow before voicing it.

She smiled and shook her head. "Nae worry, sir. I would be very interested however in Samuel's tale. What place is it you speak of? Is it near here?"

Samuel had just stuffed the last of what should have been two bites into his mouth. He held up one finger to beg a moment then finally cleared the bread with a deep drink and a gasp. "Near 'nuff. It's Camelot. THE Camelot, that is. The castle, not the shire. Can't miss it for its size if'n ya go from here and follow most any streets t' the north and east. Whatever yer business is here, miss, ya just gotta see it."

"Oh my. Well, please, do go on. I have intentions of visiting, certainly." This, she thought, would surely be the place to go for information on guilds. Besides, she hadn't seen a truly grand castle in a very long time. As Samuel continued telling about making deliveries there, Wenn idly nibbled at the edges of her custard tart. It might have been delicious but her preoccupation with the telling made the tart and tea disappear before she'd given it any thought.

With breakfast over and the other guests now gone, Wenn paused near the door to the inn to sift through her pouch and collect in her hand a few stones to be traded to a money changer. The innkeeper and his wife were all smiles as they pointed her in the right direction and waved farewell.

Wenndolyne wound through the streets, marveling at the sheer numbers of people and shops and variety of things to see. There were shops intermixed with houses or perhaps, she thought, shops below and homes above, as she'd seen elsewhere. Occasionally she'd notice someone waving from an upper window. Most of the time she looked around her to see that they were waving at someone else, but at least once, she was sure she shared a smile and a wave with a bright-eyed little boy. Wenn was in fact so enamored of that smile that she nearly walked into a basket at the fishmongers. She was ever so grateful to have seen it in time, rather than ruining her new dress.

As she continued toward the moneychanger, the streets became more open and the persons filling them were dressed in finer clothing. At last the changer's shop came into view. Having a fair idea of what the selected stones were worth, Wenn spent little time there and stepped back out to the busy street, determined to head northward and eastward as Samuel had indicated. Farther along, as she wandered deeper into the city, there were horses, carts, carriages and the business of deliveries making the streets more open but more treacherous for those on foot. There seemed a growing number of knights on horseback as well. Judging from the similarity of their colors and leisurely pace, Wenn decided they must be city guards. She wondered if there was great need for them or if they were mostly just for show.

While she considered this, Wenndolyne had to duck around a corner to narrowly avoid the wheels of a passing carriage. After a moment's recovery from the scare, she turned to head up that street, just as happenstance. Her steps froze though, for above the street and its bustling traffic, above the buildings, towering into the sky, she could see the battlements of a monstrously large castle. It was obviously still some distance from her and yet seemed almost to loom directly before her. All remaining fright and any other stray thoughts of what's to be done this day were gone. Her slippered feet began to walk again, carrying her of their own will, further along the cobbled street and toward the Castle Camelot.

Ere she knew it, Wenndolyne stood on the road looking at the gates to the magnificent castle, a stone structure of a size and beauty she had never seen before in her life. Her father's castle had been the largest in all their county but this... this was more than she could take in. The drawbridge had to be four carts wide, with chains as thick as a man, to pull the bridge up into place or release it to once again span the wide moat. To either side of the bridge were square towers of stone and so high that Wenn had to cover her eyes from the sun to look up to the guards there. They looked terribly small by comparison and distance.

Looking left and right, it seemed that the bailey walls ran to the horizon, but of course they didn't. She actually could see the square towers at the corners as well and assumed from this that she was looking at the full width of the structure. Still, it was the largest she could have imagined. Surely enough, as Samuel had said, off to the left or north of the castle was a beautiful lake. Indeed it seemed to slip away into the forest on the horizon.

The sound of the banners flapping in the light breeze brought Wenn's attention back to the drawbridge and the gates. The guards at the gate seemed merely a formality. Both smiled greetings and one of them assured her that all were welcome within these castle walls. So, she passed into the courtyard. Twas in fact a wonder that she did not catch some comment from the others coming and going there. Her eyes were wide and mouth open in wonder as she drifted slowly toward a large archway and an open pair of great oaken doors.

Pausing at the entryway, Wenn straightened her long light auburn hair. It lay over her shoulders and cascaded down her back beautifully, but she heard so many muffled voices coming from the inner chamber, she felt the need to look more than just presentable. She was unusually self-conscious at the prospect of whom she might meet at such a grand place. Wenn took the time to smooth her now seeming plain dress and see that her pouch of stones was secured at her waist. Finally, she took a deep breath, looked up with her dark sapphire eyes and stepped with forced confidence through the doors.

Wenndolyne gazed slowly about the firehall, for that was what it was, a great common room with hearths along two walls and meeting in one corner, each hearth being several men wide. The bonfires within were obviously meant to greet and warm many a wayfarer who needed shelter, or citizens who came to share of themselves and their lives. Though this would be Wenn's twenty-third summer, never had she seen such a gathering of mundane folks and sentient creatures. While she had heard of such fantastic beings, she had never hoped to see them. Yet here within the firehall of Camelot they sat or perched or lay with their tails curled up around themselves, some speaking to more mundane persons as though none noticed the difference.

There were clusters of two or three or four here and there, on the stone seating to either side of the main fireplace set in one corner, at tables set about the open hall, at a fine oaken bar, upon soft cushioned chairs and settees scattered throughout the hall. There must have been dozens of people there, perhaps hundreds, all cloistered into their conversations, laughing, singing, even a few dancing to flute or harp or lyre. The chatter and such echoed in the great vault of a room.

A few knights and scouts were gathered around a bowman, or, perhaps not a man, Wenn wasn't certain. He seemed elven, for his ears, but his face and hands were marked with black lines that appeared to be a part of his skin, not painted on. He also had large folded wings, soft brown velvety looking wings. Wenn tried not to stare but twas a hard task. She forced herself to continue scanning about the large room as she wandered in and weaved through the crowd, making an effort not to be in anyone's way.

Something high above Wenn's head made a shifting sound and she looked up toward the ceiling. She blinked and swallowed as the ghastly face of a golden dragon craned down to meet hers. The beast was lying across a thick rafter, its tail twisted and curled around the wood. Wenn wanted to run but was frozen in place as the shimmering golden leather-like face got close. Then, the lizard's mouth drew into a broad smile, seeming friendly despite its wearer. Only one jeweled and slitted eye could be seen on the huge face, from where Wenn was standing. Eventually a soft voice whispered from the fabled creature "Good Morrow, Lass. I am called Ramoth. I welcome thee to Camelot."

Wenn's legs were barely holding her as it was but she made the best curtsey she could and replied in a shaking voice. "I th-thank thee. My name is Wenndolyne of... of Flaxley. Pleased to m-meet you.... M'lady?" Wenn was not at all sure what gender the dragon was but something seemed feminine about it, never mind size and claws. Hearing the question of her address, Ramoth raised her golden head and laughed a hearty laugh that rumbled through her ridged belly and indeed through the great hall. "Yes, yes, dear one... you have guessed correctly." Her laughter was infectious and added to Wenn's relief. She managed to laugh as well.

Thus did Wenn catch the attention of many in the hall and shortly thereafter was greeted warmly by many of them. It took no time at all to get accustomed to chatting with elves and dwarves and even magical cats, as well as mundane humans like herself. The firehall of Camelot saw a great variety of persons, welcomed them all and gave them all a place to meet anew or catch up on events. Twas always a friendly face there, or comfort, or help if one was in need of it. Whether coming in for an ale, a meal, or to collect a band of warriors to aid in battle... one could find it in the firehall of Camelot.

Over dinner that eve, Wenndolyne was directed to an inn much closer to the castle which proved to be a finer place to lodge than the first. It took a few days for her to get settled, with discoveries of where to find what may be needed. In the meantime, she made inquiries concerning her possible service to the realm, which Othala seemed so sure of. She was told that the Chancery would be the place to start for information about local guild masters and the like. Alas, she'd gotten word that there was already at least one notable gem mistress and sundry other lore masters and mistresses. A city of this size naturally drew a wide variety of people, including the very skilled. Still, she thought she would perhaps go to the Chancery and speak with someone on duty, but at her leisure. For now she was intent on exploring her new surroundings. She continued to ask of matters casually, within her conversations in the firehall, and simply enjoyed the atmosphere and variety of new experiences there.

(..)