The Two Maids at Dicey Luck Tavern
The Seventh Saun of 720
A jingling sound woke her up. Yrmellyn was lucid again. After a series of failed attempts to visit the dreamscape of another person, Yrmellyn felt that enough was enough. She decided to pass through The Veil and into the dreamscape of another dreamer at all cost. This time it would happen!
The curiosity of the attunement spark made it inevitable. Wherever she went, whatever she found, the need to investigate, find out and learn never ceased.
As usual, she would have to take a long walk in her own dreamscape to find a doorway. Yrmellyn had nothing against it. The walk served to make her feel more aligned with Emea. She loved the heartland of her dreamscape, The Meadow of Spirituality. It was always where she woke up, always where her dreams began. She walked along lanes and over lush green fields, making sure to not get to close to the cattle grazing there. Her goal was The Seventh Impediment, where her version of The Veil manifested to her. Passing by the first six impediments she entered the winding path up the hillside of the seventh one. After a while, she arrived at the golden gate of her dreams.
Her experiences in a past dream had taught her how to deal with it. Shutting her eyes she governed the passage so she could walk through it. In the past dreams, this had demanded constant attention. It had required her to think of every step in the mental techniques she used for the governing. It had been like how a dancer learning a new dance has to think of every step and movement to get them right. But, the more she had practiced the easier the governing had become to her. The less attention it had demanded. Now, it was becoming automatized. In the beginning, it had been slow and taken a long time but now it was so fast that it almost felt instant.
Passing through felt ... dreamlike.
Using the personal mental techniques she had established was a nigh unaware process. Focusing her mind she opened the gateway. Then she walked into it. She had a blurred impression of moving through a passage. She opened a gate at that other end too, walked out on the other side, and arrived.
She had done it! Yrmellyn had finally entered the dreamscape of somebody else. Giddy with excitement she struggled to maintain her inner balance. Albeit she didn’t use any magic in Emea (no, never) she felt the attunement spark’s rush of excitement. It hungered for exploration of this new place. It wanted to experience the unfamiliar dreamscape. It wanted to drink it in, investigate all its delicious details, devour them and grow. Eager like a child on a new playground full of amazing attractions it bounced in her. It urged her to run forth and plunge in, head first.
Yrmellyn had put in a lot of effort to tame the spark through. It had included hermit life in the wilds for several seasons. She had endured and won more than one encounter between her willpower and ethics and the sparks raw desire for instant gratification. As usual, the spark tempted her now. But, as usual, Yrmellyn stayed set on resisting the temptation. She did not unleash it, no matter how fun the spark made that seem. Yrmellyn's very slow development in magic had been her good luck. It had given her time to meditate and practice discipline and so, establish a certain degree of control.
To her disappointment), she was only in a dream version of the cheap inn in Volta (The Leaking Dinghy, where she stayed). She knew that it was a dream because she wasn’t laying in her bed in her room. Instead, she was standing in what seemed like the inn’s kitchen. What the... Had she made her way through her extraordinary complicated individual take of the veil just to end up in ... a copy of reality? Had all her lucid efforts come to nothing?
How limited is this ability, walking as it’s called...is the range so short that you can only visit the dreamscapes of people nearby? It’s not as exciting as I assumed!
For a moment she stood there right inside the kitchen backdoor, feeling overwhelmed. The heat, the bustling activity and the onslaught of cooking fumes stunned her. Whatever Yrmellyn had expected to find on the other side of The Veil it was not a kitchen.
“You there, get working and earn your keep, or else ...” a rubicund cook shouted at her.
The cook was big, fat and sloppy. They wore a stained apron and were waving a big knife in the air. For a moment Yrmellyn wondered if her last trill had come. Would her life end like this, stabbed to death by an angry cook in a dreamscape kitchen?
To her relief, a rescuer appeared. A somewhat dishevelled copper-haired maid dashed over the floor. She answered the cook as she and grabbed Yrmellyn’s arm. “She’s the new maid! She comes with me!”
Yrmellyn followed the maid past the ranting cook. The woman’s age was hard to guess at. Her face was young but her eyes were old. Her attire was typical for a maid at an inn of not so high standards. Her face was jolie-laide kind of attractive and her mien was cheeky.
“I’m Jane Copper.” She shoved a scrubbing brush and a bucket full of soap-water into Yrmellyn’s hands. Yrmellyn, perplexed by the route the events of the dream were taking, found it best to oblige. The maid seemed like a better company than the cook.
And she reminds me of Janey at The Leaking Dinghy. I painted a portrait of Janey a trials ago. But, this one, Jane Copper, seems fiercer, her hair is even redder, her voice is more commanding and she is cuter...
“I’m ...Ellyn Cole, I guess.” It seemed more appropriate, somehow, with a short name. It didn't seem like eccentric upper-class name-snobbery. Ellyn would do but often, her surname was her best name! “You could also call me Cole. What do you want me to do?”
“Ellyn it is! Or Cole!” Jane laughed like she found it fun. “Want and want. We’re not here in Dicey Luck Tavern to do things we wanna do. We’re gonna scrub the floor in the dining room. Nasty work! But first ...”
Jane explained to Yrmellyn that a tavern maid must look a bit more dishevelled, sort of. It was part of the job. No worries. Jane could fix it. She opened a few buttons on Yrmellyn’s blouse and inspected the result. Then she opened one more button so the chemise underneath showed in the “neckline”. She pulled the shirt down a bit on from one shoulder for a sloppier look. After thinking a little bit, she pulled out a piece of ribbon from her skirt pocket. She created a hairdo for Yrmellyn, looking like a wild mop of piled locks on top of her head. “Come on! The innkeeper is a greedy bastard. If they catch us slacking ... you don’t’ want to know! ”
Jane grabbed Yrmellyn’s arm again and dragged “the new maid” with her out from the kitchen. Yrmellyn didn’t try to resist it. Armed with soap water, scrubbing brushes and floor-cloths, they entered the dining room. The inn’s patrons sat eating and drinking, telling stories and playing games. A loud cheer greeted the two maids. Jane smiled one of the widest false smiles Yrmellyn ever had seen. She waved in a nonchalant manner that included everybody and no one. Yrmellyn followed Jane's example and smiled and waved too. It might be best to try and blend in.
“Scum,” Jane hissed at Yrmellyn as she kneeled on the floor and dipped the scrubbing brush in the soap water. Jane’s voice was so low that only Yrmellyn could hear it. “Bastards every one of them! Mark my words!”
Yrmellyn looked around in the room. It was a bit obscure in here. The patrons looked obscure too.
“Get down and start scrubbing!” Jane hissed at her.
Yrmellyn found it best to join Jane on the floor. She had no idea if Jane was lucid or not but she guessed not. It seemed so unlikely that somebody would use their dreamscape this way. If it even was Jane’s dreamscape? Yrmellyn had no idea! As far as she knew the owner of this dreamscape could as well be the fat cook with the knife. Or, it could be or one of the patrons who were ogling her. It could also be the innkeeper she hadn’t seen yet or somebody else. How could she know?
She couldn’t, so she would stick with Jane until she could figure out how to drop out.
Cursed lucidity! This dream seemed like a nightmare of doing housework combined with providing eye-candy. Come to think of it, tavern maids were often multitasking... It wouldn’t surprise Yrmellyn if it was so here too. The “compliments” people shouted at her while she scrubbed implied that Jane was right and they were bastards. And she, Yrmellyn, now Ellyn Cole, was "the new maid at the inn". An attraction. The copper coins the patrons threw at them emphasized her feeling that their drudgery was also a show. Despite the encouragement from the patrons, Yrmellyn abstained from fighting Jane over the coin. Being lucid, she wasn’t going to be reckless. She knew that the consequences in Emea were as real as consequences in her waking life. Besides, she had entered a stranger’s dreamscape out of sheer curiosity. She wasn't there to steal dream money from a hardworking maid.
Not even when a silver nel dropped down between them did she attempt to take it. Jane could have it! The other maid locked eyes with her. For a moment Yrmellyn felt like she was being weighed and appraised. Jane was taking her measure. Yrmellyn nodded at the silver nel shining on the floor between them. Jane answered with a slow nod, picked up the silver and put in an apron pocket.
Keep calm and scrub the floor, Yrmellyn told herself. Look for a way out from this terrible dreamscape. I came in through a gateway. One of the doors in the inn must lead back there ...
“Must it? Why? And if so, which door? And what if they don’t?”
I entered via the kitchen backdoor. At least it seemed so. Might that be my gateway back to a better dream? Is The Veil integrated into the back wall of the kitchen this time? That would be problematic! The armed cook is guarding the kitchen. I would have to sneak past him somehow.
Or can I leave in some other way?
Scrubbing the floor was hard work and required a great deal of endurance. It was also boring. The old snuff and chewed tobacco people had spit out on the floor were disgusting. So was the stench of it. The puddles of spilt beer were not any better. But, the worst was the snarling mongrels hiding under tables. They watched the bones people had thrown to them. She wondered if those dogs belonged to the patrons. Or were they canine freebooters operating on their own? As there was no barking or any conflict over the bones she had to conclude that they might be a flock of free dogs. Their ranks seemed settled. They focused on food, not on fights. She hadn’t found even a tiny piece of dropped food so far. The dogs seemed to be in the cleaning squad together with her and Jane.
“You’re right, “she hissed back at Jane when a gnawed bone hit her bum. Several dogs jumped forth and bumped into her. They snarled at Yrmellyn and their canine competitors alike. The patrons laughed and applauded. “Scum!”
Soon the two maids were bonding over their shared hate for the uncouth patrons of the inn. Jane Copper and Ellyn Cole, best friends forever! They continued their work while they kept whispering rants together. Yrmellyn’s respect for Jane increased with every grisly memory the woman told her. So did her hate for the patrons of the inn. It was Copper and Cole against the world. They were a team!
What kind of bloody dreamscape IS this? Shouldn’t it be a marvellous wonder-experience to enter the dreamscape of another? This is like expecting strawberry jam and find that you opened a jar of snakes. Whom does this miserable dreamscape belong to? Is Jane the dreamer? Or is it somebody else? Whoever it is, they deserve to get slapped with a wet floor-cloth! (Except for Jane.)
At this point, a coin dropped down in front of Yrmellyn, out of reach for Jane. It wasn’t a copper nel. It wasn’t a silver nel either. I was a coin of pure gold! But, they said that gold was the root cause of all evil. Gold coins in an inn like this could be a bad thing. Picking it up might seal a deal she didn’t know the consequences of. Not picking it up could also lead to consequences. She settled for stalling for time in the hope of finding out what it was about.
Yrmellyn looked up from the scrubbing brush. Fearing the worst, she met the gaze of the person who had thrown the golden coin.
The curiosity of the attunement spark made it inevitable. Wherever she went, whatever she found, the need to investigate, find out and learn never ceased.
As usual, she would have to take a long walk in her own dreamscape to find a doorway. Yrmellyn had nothing against it. The walk served to make her feel more aligned with Emea. She loved the heartland of her dreamscape, The Meadow of Spirituality. It was always where she woke up, always where her dreams began. She walked along lanes and over lush green fields, making sure to not get to close to the cattle grazing there. Her goal was The Seventh Impediment, where her version of The Veil manifested to her. Passing by the first six impediments she entered the winding path up the hillside of the seventh one. After a while, she arrived at the golden gate of her dreams.
Her experiences in a past dream had taught her how to deal with it. Shutting her eyes she governed the passage so she could walk through it. In the past dreams, this had demanded constant attention. It had required her to think of every step in the mental techniques she used for the governing. It had been like how a dancer learning a new dance has to think of every step and movement to get them right. But, the more she had practiced the easier the governing had become to her. The less attention it had demanded. Now, it was becoming automatized. In the beginning, it had been slow and taken a long time but now it was so fast that it almost felt instant.
Passing through felt ... dreamlike.
Using the personal mental techniques she had established was a nigh unaware process. Focusing her mind she opened the gateway. Then she walked into it. She had a blurred impression of moving through a passage. She opened a gate at that other end too, walked out on the other side, and arrived.
She had done it! Yrmellyn had finally entered the dreamscape of somebody else. Giddy with excitement she struggled to maintain her inner balance. Albeit she didn’t use any magic in Emea (no, never) she felt the attunement spark’s rush of excitement. It hungered for exploration of this new place. It wanted to experience the unfamiliar dreamscape. It wanted to drink it in, investigate all its delicious details, devour them and grow. Eager like a child on a new playground full of amazing attractions it bounced in her. It urged her to run forth and plunge in, head first.
Yrmellyn had put in a lot of effort to tame the spark through. It had included hermit life in the wilds for several seasons. She had endured and won more than one encounter between her willpower and ethics and the sparks raw desire for instant gratification. As usual, the spark tempted her now. But, as usual, Yrmellyn stayed set on resisting the temptation. She did not unleash it, no matter how fun the spark made that seem. Yrmellyn's very slow development in magic had been her good luck. It had given her time to meditate and practice discipline and so, establish a certain degree of control.
To her disappointment), she was only in a dream version of the cheap inn in Volta (The Leaking Dinghy, where she stayed). She knew that it was a dream because she wasn’t laying in her bed in her room. Instead, she was standing in what seemed like the inn’s kitchen. What the... Had she made her way through her extraordinary complicated individual take of the veil just to end up in ... a copy of reality? Had all her lucid efforts come to nothing?
How limited is this ability, walking as it’s called...is the range so short that you can only visit the dreamscapes of people nearby? It’s not as exciting as I assumed!
For a moment she stood there right inside the kitchen backdoor, feeling overwhelmed. The heat, the bustling activity and the onslaught of cooking fumes stunned her. Whatever Yrmellyn had expected to find on the other side of The Veil it was not a kitchen.
“You there, get working and earn your keep, or else ...” a rubicund cook shouted at her.
The cook was big, fat and sloppy. They wore a stained apron and were waving a big knife in the air. For a moment Yrmellyn wondered if her last trill had come. Would her life end like this, stabbed to death by an angry cook in a dreamscape kitchen?
To her relief, a rescuer appeared. A somewhat dishevelled copper-haired maid dashed over the floor. She answered the cook as she and grabbed Yrmellyn’s arm. “She’s the new maid! She comes with me!”
Yrmellyn followed the maid past the ranting cook. The woman’s age was hard to guess at. Her face was young but her eyes were old. Her attire was typical for a maid at an inn of not so high standards. Her face was jolie-laide kind of attractive and her mien was cheeky.
“I’m Jane Copper.” She shoved a scrubbing brush and a bucket full of soap-water into Yrmellyn’s hands. Yrmellyn, perplexed by the route the events of the dream were taking, found it best to oblige. The maid seemed like a better company than the cook.
And she reminds me of Janey at The Leaking Dinghy. I painted a portrait of Janey a trials ago. But, this one, Jane Copper, seems fiercer, her hair is even redder, her voice is more commanding and she is cuter...
“I’m ...Ellyn Cole, I guess.” It seemed more appropriate, somehow, with a short name. It didn't seem like eccentric upper-class name-snobbery. Ellyn would do but often, her surname was her best name! “You could also call me Cole. What do you want me to do?”
“Ellyn it is! Or Cole!” Jane laughed like she found it fun. “Want and want. We’re not here in Dicey Luck Tavern to do things we wanna do. We’re gonna scrub the floor in the dining room. Nasty work! But first ...”
Jane explained to Yrmellyn that a tavern maid must look a bit more dishevelled, sort of. It was part of the job. No worries. Jane could fix it. She opened a few buttons on Yrmellyn’s blouse and inspected the result. Then she opened one more button so the chemise underneath showed in the “neckline”. She pulled the shirt down a bit on from one shoulder for a sloppier look. After thinking a little bit, she pulled out a piece of ribbon from her skirt pocket. She created a hairdo for Yrmellyn, looking like a wild mop of piled locks on top of her head. “Come on! The innkeeper is a greedy bastard. If they catch us slacking ... you don’t’ want to know! ”
Jane grabbed Yrmellyn’s arm again and dragged “the new maid” with her out from the kitchen. Yrmellyn didn’t try to resist it. Armed with soap water, scrubbing brushes and floor-cloths, they entered the dining room. The inn’s patrons sat eating and drinking, telling stories and playing games. A loud cheer greeted the two maids. Jane smiled one of the widest false smiles Yrmellyn ever had seen. She waved in a nonchalant manner that included everybody and no one. Yrmellyn followed Jane's example and smiled and waved too. It might be best to try and blend in.
“Scum,” Jane hissed at Yrmellyn as she kneeled on the floor and dipped the scrubbing brush in the soap water. Jane’s voice was so low that only Yrmellyn could hear it. “Bastards every one of them! Mark my words!”
Yrmellyn looked around in the room. It was a bit obscure in here. The patrons looked obscure too.
“Get down and start scrubbing!” Jane hissed at her.
Yrmellyn found it best to join Jane on the floor. She had no idea if Jane was lucid or not but she guessed not. It seemed so unlikely that somebody would use their dreamscape this way. If it even was Jane’s dreamscape? Yrmellyn had no idea! As far as she knew the owner of this dreamscape could as well be the fat cook with the knife. Or, it could be or one of the patrons who were ogling her. It could also be the innkeeper she hadn’t seen yet or somebody else. How could she know?
She couldn’t, so she would stick with Jane until she could figure out how to drop out.
Cursed lucidity! This dream seemed like a nightmare of doing housework combined with providing eye-candy. Come to think of it, tavern maids were often multitasking... It wouldn’t surprise Yrmellyn if it was so here too. The “compliments” people shouted at her while she scrubbed implied that Jane was right and they were bastards. And she, Yrmellyn, now Ellyn Cole, was "the new maid at the inn". An attraction. The copper coins the patrons threw at them emphasized her feeling that their drudgery was also a show. Despite the encouragement from the patrons, Yrmellyn abstained from fighting Jane over the coin. Being lucid, she wasn’t going to be reckless. She knew that the consequences in Emea were as real as consequences in her waking life. Besides, she had entered a stranger’s dreamscape out of sheer curiosity. She wasn't there to steal dream money from a hardworking maid.
Not even when a silver nel dropped down between them did she attempt to take it. Jane could have it! The other maid locked eyes with her. For a moment Yrmellyn felt like she was being weighed and appraised. Jane was taking her measure. Yrmellyn nodded at the silver nel shining on the floor between them. Jane answered with a slow nod, picked up the silver and put in an apron pocket.
Keep calm and scrub the floor, Yrmellyn told herself. Look for a way out from this terrible dreamscape. I came in through a gateway. One of the doors in the inn must lead back there ...
“Must it? Why? And if so, which door? And what if they don’t?”
I entered via the kitchen backdoor. At least it seemed so. Might that be my gateway back to a better dream? Is The Veil integrated into the back wall of the kitchen this time? That would be problematic! The armed cook is guarding the kitchen. I would have to sneak past him somehow.
Or can I leave in some other way?
Scrubbing the floor was hard work and required a great deal of endurance. It was also boring. The old snuff and chewed tobacco people had spit out on the floor were disgusting. So was the stench of it. The puddles of spilt beer were not any better. But, the worst was the snarling mongrels hiding under tables. They watched the bones people had thrown to them. She wondered if those dogs belonged to the patrons. Or were they canine freebooters operating on their own? As there was no barking or any conflict over the bones she had to conclude that they might be a flock of free dogs. Their ranks seemed settled. They focused on food, not on fights. She hadn’t found even a tiny piece of dropped food so far. The dogs seemed to be in the cleaning squad together with her and Jane.
“You’re right, “she hissed back at Jane when a gnawed bone hit her bum. Several dogs jumped forth and bumped into her. They snarled at Yrmellyn and their canine competitors alike. The patrons laughed and applauded. “Scum!”
Soon the two maids were bonding over their shared hate for the uncouth patrons of the inn. Jane Copper and Ellyn Cole, best friends forever! They continued their work while they kept whispering rants together. Yrmellyn’s respect for Jane increased with every grisly memory the woman told her. So did her hate for the patrons of the inn. It was Copper and Cole against the world. They were a team!
What kind of bloody dreamscape IS this? Shouldn’t it be a marvellous wonder-experience to enter the dreamscape of another? This is like expecting strawberry jam and find that you opened a jar of snakes. Whom does this miserable dreamscape belong to? Is Jane the dreamer? Or is it somebody else? Whoever it is, they deserve to get slapped with a wet floor-cloth! (Except for Jane.)
At this point, a coin dropped down in front of Yrmellyn, out of reach for Jane. It wasn’t a copper nel. It wasn’t a silver nel either. I was a coin of pure gold! But, they said that gold was the root cause of all evil. Gold coins in an inn like this could be a bad thing. Picking it up might seal a deal she didn’t know the consequences of. Not picking it up could also lead to consequences. She settled for stalling for time in the hope of finding out what it was about.
Yrmellyn looked up from the scrubbing brush. Fearing the worst, she met the gaze of the person who had thrown the golden coin.
