Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Tristan was just on his way to a client. A certain Mrs. Isabella Gudmundsson had been looking for someone to make a sculpture of her beloved cat, Harald (which was a rather unusual name for a cat, he supposed) and since he loved cats, he had immediately accepted the job. He was just passing through the gate that separated the Vaettir Hold and the Alfar Hold and moving past a little café where he sometimes drank hot chocolate when a loud voice caught his attention. He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow slightly as he did so, and then he decided to investigate because this was a pretty unusual occurrence, everything considered, and he was a little early, anyway.

A middle-aged man that was clearly identifiable as a Melrathi due to the intricate tattoos on his face, his Embla, stood on a pedestal of sorts and exclaimed loudly that Brent Forrester was looking for artisans to craft something for the Temple of Svariella. Tristan didn’t know who Brent Forrester was (Some sort of ranger, maybe?) but he had heard of the Induk before. While he had been raised with a different faith, he respected the spirits that the Melrathi worshipped, and he was especially curious about Svariella.

She seemed to love to hear stories, and he loved to tell stories, so he considered her to be a kindred spirit (literally).

For that reason, he approached the man who seemed to be quite happy to talk and asked him for the exact location of the temple, wrote it down in the little notebook that he always carried with him, and then he continued on his way, wondering if he should bring a sample of his work when he met with Mister Forrester and which one he should bring. He had made a sculpture with Vhalar, the Immortal of Art once which was something that no other sculptor in all of Idalos could claim as far as he knew. He was not sure if Mister Forrester or Lady Svariella would appreciate his bringing something that had been touched by an Immortal into her temple though.

There was the sculpture that he had made of the Sessfiend that had troubled Rynmere once upon a time as well, of course. He was not sure if a sculpture of an evil, cannibalistic monstrous hound would be acceptable either though. Maybe he should … the sculpture that he had made of her was rather personal, but it was a good demonstration of the unique technique that he had invented; and besides that, it was just beautiful. He had made it at after he had perfected his skill as a sculptor. If that didn’t convince Mister Forrester that he was the right man for the job, then he didn’t know what would.

~~~

Later that trial, after he had visited Mrs. Gudmundsson and her cat (who had turned out to be old, grumpy and nearly toothless), the young Duke who was currently in exile due to a nasty plague and a couple of unpleasant political crises (including wide-scale magicide, which was what he had decided to call the murder of mages) made his way to the Temple of Svariella, on horseback since it was too far to walk.

He was dressed like a wealthy Melrathi rather than a noble from Rynmere in order to fit in better and demonstrate that he was serious about this, in a royal blue tunic with a silken sash and metallic threads along the trim and a matching cloak, among other things.

Behind him, one of his employees, Brandon, followed with a cart that contained the sculpture that he had decided on, the life-sized, hyper-realistic and colourful sculpture of a barbarian woman.

He had also packed a few smaller sculptures into a bag though, just in case Brent wouldn’t be content with just one sample of his work.

He gave Brandon a sign to stop some distance away from the shrine, dismounted his horse (a huge black stallion called Maxos, named after one of the most dangerous men in Rynmere, Peake Maxos Andaris), tied him to a nearby tree and approached the shrine in order to address the man that was working there, unaware of the fact that he was actually the one.

“I’m looking for Mister Brent Forrester. I heard that he wants to hire an artisan to craft something in Lady Svariella’s imagine, and I’m interested in the job. My name is Tristan Venora, and I’m a sculptor”, the young noble (who had runic silver markings that almost looked like some sort of Embla on the left side of his face) introduced himself in a very polite and friendly tone of voice, and then he waited for the other man to speak, and hopefully tell him what he was supposed to do and where he was supposed to go.

When the dark-haired man that had been working on the shrine told him that he was Brent Forrester, a bit of blush colored Tristan’s pale cheeks for a moment as he was embarrassed about that. A moment later, he extended a hand with fingers that ended in black nails for him to shake and remarked, smiling, “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mister Forrester. And yes, the sculpture’s mine. Feel free to take a closer look. I used a special technique that enables my creations to produce small sounds or movements to make it”, he remarked. Others might have taken the opportunity to brag about their great skill (sculptures with movement and sound were a rare occurrence); Tristan on the other hand was just explaining his creation, and his tone of voice was friendly.

“It’s not magic”, he added as he was aware of the fact that some people in Melrath had a problem with that (Tristan himself didn’t; he didn’t think that having a spark automatically made you a danger to society).

Brent had a couple of questions, and he talked quickly, but Tristan didn’t mind that at all. He talked rather quickly as well sometimes after all, although he had a bit of a hard time figuring out which matter he should address first. Finally, he decided on telling the other man more about his family name as he had already been wondering about that before.

“I’m not from Melrath”, he told him in a fairly light-hearted tone of voice. He was aware of the fact that the people of Melrath could be quite xenophobic sometimes and tended to give foreigners a hard time, but he saw no reason to hide his origins or act ashamed. He just saw an opportunity to educate people and show them that not all Outlanders were bad. “I’m originally from Rynmere. A number of political crises and the plague forced me to leave my duchy and find a new home though as it was not safe anymore. I hope to become a citizen soon. I’m engaged to a local”, he explained, as Brent might be wondering why he had decided to settle down in Melrath of all places.

“As for what I know of Lady Svariella”, he continued in the same friendly and polite tone of voice as before and momentarily paused in order to give Brandon a sign to bring the bag from the cart to them. “I know that she calls Lake Svariella her home and loves music and stories. She is said to be peaceful and gentle and a protector of her people. I have yet to meet the Maiden of the Lake though”, he admitted, his tone of voice softening noticeably and becoming almost reverent for a few moments.

“I can make the statue as large or as small as you want me to”, he sat while he opened the bag, pulled a couple of sculptures out of it and set them down on the ground between them. “I’m also an alchemist of some skill, in case you want me to add special effects to it”, he added before he directed Brent’s attention to the sculptures.

There were half a dozen all in all, a hag and a noble looking knight with a sword among them. The knight was not standing still; it almost seemed as if his sword were moving, or maybe that was just a trick of the light?

“The founders of my homeland”, Tristan explained before he smiled and asked, “What do you think, Mister Forrester? Is there anything that you would like to ask me?”