Silence in the Basement.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 1/17/1998 12:11 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Jonalyn

The commoner appeared in a soft azure glow at the back stairs leading from the behind the Inn into the basement cavern. She trod slowly down the stairs. Edmond had not yet roused the serving kids and her bairns rested under the watchful care of their nannies. Pacing silently along the south wall, the commoner paused every few steps to gaze upon the banners, tapestries and flags, the colors borne bythe Overlords, Barons and Warlords.
There, the escutcheon of the Phoenix, there that of Covington, there the dark char of ash where once the Bishop's tattered sign, "Will duel for Bloodstains" had graced the ancient stones. There, the banner of the grand Siera Redwin; there that of Valmion; there a small bit of the pink tulle from Vixxenish's favorite pink pillbox hat; there a forgotten metal box, a dead roach on top, its sign reading, "Dool Uv Sordz Res' Home", used during MadMad Max's reign to collect the three gold pieces he had decreed be paid by duelist the officials to call duels; there a small sliver of oak from the cudgel wielded by Athlstan; there a notch in the stonework a reminder of Ulath n' Fici' axe; there a bit of the cardboard box that the Mad Sweep had often fallen into after a long evening of turning duelist into Falire Fodder.
The commoner wandered to the edge of the silent rings passing the chairs in Falon's corner. She could almost hear Juan Sanchez Villalobos Ramirez banter with the ladies. The light of a single torch flickered, casting shadows into the depths of the vast cavern. She paused at the tunnel opening leading into the annex, in the depths of the silence, a whisper. She wandered toward the front stairs, glancing up toward the heavy ancient oaken door. No one.
She turned to pace slowly around the empty rings, sensing the touch of the Guardian's spirit upon the sands. She wandered back toward the bar. There Kalamere's favorite chair and his brandy; over there, Alais d' Nitesong Sidhe's favourite couch; She paused, quirking a smile as she recalled asking Percival his reasons for challenging Siera and his answer. For a moment, in the silence, she almost heard the tapping of Me Monk's staff on thestone flooring. She remembered the night Monk had actually brought a blush to Siera's cheeks as the two sat at a table near the bar.
She slide onto a stool at the bar, a far away look in her eyes as she remembered Martigan Crow's reign and the challenge made to him by his friend, Tukros.
She chortled in the silence, recalling the dark look she had received one evening from the Morequendi, Feadur Feamigil. She remembered Feadur's oath and loyalty to Siera. She recalled the night the cocksure braggart, Billy Ray Karnafexx had sworn his loyalty as a warlord to Siera.
Resting her hand on the ancient and scarred wood of the bar, she remembered the night the Baron Torquillan Aspendale and Siera had come to blows outside the rings. Her thoughts wandered to the mischievousness of the first Lady Overlord, Amaltea thu-Darelir, and further to the staid Xenograg kathu-Darelir. She broke into merry peals of laughter, recalling Max's comment after Xenograg had announced his intentions as Overlord, during his thirdreign. The nickname Fidel Castrograg somehow fit the General and Sorcerer.
Daegarth Mithmellon, an enigma who walked in shadow.
She recalled the long grueling match between Iain MacKenzie and Xenograg for the honor to wear a Baron's ring and Procy's Follie and the Misbegotten Seat.
She wondered had the time indeed past when a challenge was attended by as many Warlord's and lower ranks as could push their way into the basement. She noticed that few offered even the merest courtesy of a nod of acknowledgment to their peers upon entering, still fewer offered that barest respect to the Overlord.
She recalled when even blood enemies offered these simplest of courtesies upon meeting.
Shouts of "It's only a sport. I need another peer win!!", seemed to echo in the silence. There were some who knew it was more, much more. The commoner rose from her seat at the bar, taking a long slow glance around the empty arena. There the weapons racks; there the locker room entrance; there the out of the way corner, where some chose to meditate before entering the rings; there the corner used by some to stretch and prepare beforetheir match was called; there the med kits, there the door to the kitchens; there the stairway to the private skyboxes overlooking the rings beneath the heavy beams of the rafters.
She turned facing the banners then bowed silently. Straightening she snugged her cloak around her shoulders, then turned, making her way to the back stairs. She trod slowly up then out the back door to wander in the awakening dawn.