by: Adrian "Cronin" Cronin
We arrived in New Verai after a long harsh journey through the mountains. Once my countrymen and I were presentable we made our way into the feast hall of New Verai, where warmth and the smell of spices filled the air.
We chose to seat ourselves in the back of the feast hall where our heathen ways would be more forgiven in the presence of such formal fare. New Verai had guards patrolling the feast hall, keeping a close eye and ear on the goings-on. Camel racing and Blackjack were in full effect and it wasn’t long before the first round of food was brought to the center of the hall for all to enjoy.
The Steward of Verai announced the feast to be a day of service and explained the custom for landowners and knights to show appreciation to their subordinates and bring them food and drink. He also took this time to state with great conviction that slavery was quite illegal within these lands. He wanted to make sure there could be no doubt. We all did our best to participate and share in the festivities but as always… danger reared its ugly head.
I was outside in my “Feast Gear” aka fully armored and wielding an angel blade when I heard the familiar voice of the Sacred of Spirit screaming for help in the distance. I told my countrymen to go and get Hygar, and anyone else willing to fight, then I began my steady march. Looking to my left I saw a familiar friend, Orion, armed and ready to back me up. We marched side by side then broke into a jog and met the corrupted elementals in a clash while the rest of our party began to approach behind us.
Once I fell in battle, bested by the elemental beasts, the gods brought me back quickly from the brink of death and I was able to outflank the elemental horde. With the aid of the party, we made quick work of the elementals and saved our old friend: the Sacred of Spirit. Azurewrath, my faithful blade, was broken in the battle; leaving it mundane for a large portion of the quest.
Upon our return to the feast hall, Hygar spoke with the Sacred of Spirit, and Voraniss stood vigil around them with the scent of danger still rich in the air. The conversation was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of a familiar lich, inhabiting our very own Tempest. She spun a wicked poem, insulting our Archdruid and cursing his intention to become King. Once her performance was finished and she had stated her piece, she made her way out of the feast hall and rejoined the corrupted elementals outside.
We rearmed ourselves and met their forces head on outside the feast hall. The Lich, unaffected by any of our attacks, wielded wicked powers. She killed us with her very voice and laughed as we all crashed against her. No one was lost permanently in the fight but the sting of defeat rang true as the Lich walked away from us unscarred.
When the battle was complete, and the danger passed, Hygar conferred with the Sacred of Spirit again who then informed us that Siltana wished Hygar to make a choice: Remain on the path to becoming her Sacred of Earth or continue with his plan to become King of Voraniss. In a sensational showing of regality, Hygar chose to become King; for his people will always come first. If the Archdruid was saddened by this choice, he did not show it. His face remained like stone, unchanged by the demanding realities of his station.
The Voranians present were left saddened and confused by what had transpired. Why would these fundamentally opposed forces fear Hygar ascending to the ancient throne of our country? Was this a test of some kind? Voraniss would leave with more questions than answers, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. It would take more than that to strip us of our hope and determination.
For a time, I took comfort in a friendly clash of steel with Tor of Creathorne and his friend Peasant. We swapped stories, traded blows, and strengthened the bonds of friendship.
New Verai also tended to our broken hearts with yet more food. And boy did we eat our feelings at this feast. With the appearance of rice, chicken with a delectable sauce, meatballs, meat on a stick and all manner off unidentifiable deliciousness, I Commander Cronin Barbaria, Druid of the Mountain did nothing short of stuffing my body to capacity. And then dessert came. Boy oh boy.
At some point during the battles of spoon and fork, Mogar and I joined with the fighters of the feast and participated in the gladiator pits. Bloated and exhausted, we were made short work of. However, Sir Rillan reigned supreme and was awarded land and livestock in the lands of New Verai. In a grand Knightly gesture, Sir Rillan declined his reward and passed his prize along to another fighter of the arena, Leon, who could use the opportunity to create a life and better himself.
When at last the evening came to an end, we all said our goodbyes. Our hearts heavy, and with the fate of the Sacred station still unanswered, it was a quiet ride home for Voraniss. But dreams of tomato shorba, spicy chips, and sweet’n spicy chutney offered comfort as we passed back over the mountains.