Chapter Seventeen – The King’s Task

  Fulgaday, 11 Tamihr, Year of Folivor the Restful Sloth, 489 years AWA

  Celebration Grounds and Royal Palace, Candibaru, Andovarra

  A good bell later, after being asked to evacuate the recovery room by the Half-Orcs and Dwarves that had followed them in their trial, the group returned to the building in which they had competed. A banner proclaiming "Winners Announced Soon" stood over a speaker's platform which had been set up in front of the building.

  A group of about thirty people was already present, including the Half-Orcs and Dwarves, but this time they paid the companions no heed. Kere pulled her blanket out and spread it on the ground about eight feet in front of the speaker's platform, then promptly took a seat, inviting her companions to join her with a gentle pat on the fabric.

  Jori glanced around, assessing the growing crowd. "I'm not sure how many groups wound up competing, but if it was a lot, you might have to put that away."

  Kere shrugged, settling more comfortably on her blanket. "We can deal with that if and when the time comes. Until then, I see no reason to stand on my feet doing nothing." Her voice carried the quiet stubbornness of someone who valued comfort over convention.

  Cali and Jenna quickly joined her, both appreciating the practical gesture. Eventually Neric bounded over, but Monoffa, Perx, Wenthe and Jori remained standing, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Kere looked up at those sitting with her, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Jori mentioned that the winners might get taken before the King."

  Neric's eyes lit up like candles, and he bounced slightly on the blanket. "Ooh, that would be fun! I've always wanted to perform before royalty." He mimed playing an invisible lute with exaggerated flourishes.

  Kere's brow furrowed with concern as she watched his enthusiasm. "I'm not sure you'd be able to perform," she said gently, not wanting the Halfling to get his hopes up unnecessarily, especially since the winners hadn't even been announced.

  Jenna tilted her head, genuinely curious but speaking in her characteristic soft tones. "Are they going to get a royal congratulations or something?"

  "I've no idea," admitted Kere, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Jori asked his mother, who works in the court, and she knew nothing about it."

  About twenty minutes later, boots shuffled closer and voices pressed in around them. A Dwarf stepped backward, nearly treading on Kere's blanket, while a group of Humans squeezed past, forcing Wenthe to duck under an elbow. Kere glanced around at the encroaching wall of legs and torsos, then folded her blanket with a resigned sigh, shaking off bits of trampled grass. One by one, they rose to their feet, Neric stretching his back with an audible pop. Wenthe pressed close to Monoffa, her tail twitching with nervous energy.

  Finally at 16 bells sharp, a Human man wearing blue wizard's robes that they hadn't seen when they arrived for their Trial stepped onto the platform, cast a spell, and began speaking, his magically amplified voice cutting through the din of the crowd with crisp authority.

  "I want to start by thanking you all for coming out and participating in the Trials of Eight. We are testing the gear you used that gave you your adventure in the hope it can be used to help keep Andovarra safe."

  Perx crossed his arms and muttered to the group, his analytical mind already working. "If they can work out the bugs, it might have military applications, maybe even allowing for real-time updates on the battlefield."

  "We don't care about that," came an impatient voice from the crowd. "Just tell us who won."

  "Very well," agreed the man with a professional chuckle. "With no further ado, let's start with the fifth place winners."

  The winning group went up and accepted their congratulations and prize, then returned to the crowd. This process repeated for the fourth through second place groups, but the Unshackled Crew was not called. The group of Half-Orcs and Dwarves, who called themselves Kulkarn's Killers, took second.

  Wenthe's whiskers twitched as she leaned toward the group. "Well, I guess this is the moment of truth! We either won, or we didn't do well at all."

  Monoffa's tail swished in broad arcs as she commented dreamily, "I feel the air like bees abuzz," earning her questioning glances from Neric, Cali, Jenna, Perx, and Jori. Kere exchanged a meaningful look with Wenthe, silently asking, Has she always talked like that?

  Wenthe simply shook her head with an affectionate smile.

  "And now for the announcement everyone has been waiting for," said the wizard on the platform, his voice carrying the weight of ceremony, "the name of the group in first place. I am pleased to announce that the Unshackled Crew have achieved the highest score with their unique finish to the combat. Unshackled Crew, would you please come up on the platform?"

  Wenthe let out a triumphant hoot that could probably be heard three blocks away, pumping her fist in the air while her tail lashed with pure joy. Neric bounced on his toes, clapping rapidly, while Jenna pressed her hands to her mouth, eyes wide with disbelief. Perx straightened, adjusting his spectacles with a satisfied nod. Cali smiled serenely, her hands folded at her waist, though her eyes sparkled with quiet pleasure.

  Being more or less in front of the crowd already, the companions didn't have far to go to mount the platform. They received the wizard's congratulations, and he told them with brisk efficiency, "Your group is going to the Royal Palace. You'll get your rewards there. As soon as everyone leaves, I and some friends of mine will escort you."

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  As they stepped down from the platform, the reality of their victory began to sink in. Wenthe grabbed Monoffa's arm, her whiskers practically vibrating with excitement. "We actually won!" she whispered.

  "I can't believe we beat Kulkarn's Killers," Jenna murmured, still processing. "They seemed so... professional."

  Perx's rare smile tugged at his lips. "The malfunctioning trial equipment actually worked in our favor. We adapted better than groups with more rigid tactics."

  Monoffa tugged on Kere's sleeve with childlike curiosity. "Is this sort of thing normal, Sea Beauty?”

  Kere paused, considering the question. "I have no idea."

  Frowning at Kere's answer, Monoffa said with unusual sharpness, "That's not an answer at all! It's like asking what color the sky is and being told 'maybe.'"

  Jori caught Kere's eye, and for a moment, their old partnership flickered between them before he looked away. "Didn't expect that," he said quietly.

  It took a full half-bell for the Celebration Grounds to clear out. After that, two carriages were brought around and the party was invited to enter. Kere and Jori climbed in with Monoffa and Wenthe while Cali, Neric, Jenna, and Perx climbed into the other. The wizard who had announced the winners climbed onto a flying carpet, which he quickly commanded with practiced authority, "Up," and began following the carriages through town.

  The carriages rocked gently over cobblestones, wheels rumbling in a steady rhythm. Wenthe pressed her face to the window, her breath fogging the glass as she watched shopkeepers pause in their doorways to stare. The scent of leather upholstery mixed with the distant aroma of baking bread from the market district they passed through.

  Wenthe practically vibrated with excitement. "By my whiskers! Royal carriages! Flying carpets! This is beyond anything I ever dreamed of in those Drow dungeons!"

  Monoffa's expression grew wistful as she watched the city pass by. "Everything might be familiar or might be new—it's like trying to catch sunbeams in my hands,” she said with a forlorn sigh, "but it does not really seem familiar."

  "Definitely a first time for me," Kere agreed quietly, her hands folded in her lap as she took in the sights with wonder.

  Jori remained silent, his eyes tracking their route with the automatic awareness of someone trained in navigation and survival. Kere wasn't sure if it was because he had ridden in a carriage before and didn't want to make the others feel bad, or if he just didn't think it was important enough to discuss.

  In the other carriage, Neric bounced from window to window like an excited child, his small hands leaving smudges on the glass as he waved at street vendors who pointed and whispered. Perx slouched in his corner, arms crossed, though his eyes tracked the magical wards they passed with professional interest. Meanwhile, Jenna and Cali spoke in low, gentle tones, finding common ground in their shared experiences of growing up without traditional families.

  Another half a bell later, the carriages slowed, wheels crunching over pristine gravel. As they rolled to a stop, the wizard’s flying carpet descended with a whisper of displaced air, settling beside the fountain.

  The party stepped down from the carriages, boots echoing on marble steps. Wenthe's head tilted back so far her ears nearly touched her shoulders as she tried to take in the palace's full height. Neric actually stumbled backward, catching himself against the carriage door. Even Jori, usually composed, paused mid-step to stare at the dragon fountain, water cascading from its bronze maw in crystalline arcs.

  The wizard straightened his robes and addressed them with formal precision. "I suppose I should probably introduce myself. My name is Rothlan. I designed the circlets you used as well as the building where the Trials were held, and the King graciously offered to provide the prizes to the first place winners. Now if you'll all follow me, please." He led them up the entry stairs with the efficiency of someone who knew every stone of the palace.

  Rothlan's robes swished against the marble floor as he led them down the first hallway, their footsteps creating a symphony of different sounds—Jori's leather boots silent, Wenthe's claws clicking, Neric's quick patter, and the soft whisper of Cali's sandals. They turned left at a massive painting of a battle scene, then right past a suit of ornate armor that made Jenna instinctively check the shadows behind it.

  At each checkpoint, guards stepped forward with practiced precision, their eyes scanning the group while maintaining respectful distance.

  Perx's fingers twitched as they passed through the magical barriers, his wizard’s training allowing him to automatically catalog each defense—and his pirate instincts appreciated their thoroughness. Arcane Lock on every door, naturally, and those were Detect Magic sensors at the checkpoints. Discreet but effective. The overlapping Guards and Wards throughout the structure impressed him; whoever designed this understood both theory and paranoia. But what made his skin prickle with professional respect were the dead zones—Antimagic Fields protecting the most sensitive areas, and that dimensional pressure near the end that would make teleportation impossible. As a former captain who'd had to protect his own ship and crew, he could appreciate defenses that covered every angle.

  Apparently finding the doorway he wanted, Rothlan opened the doors and gestured that the party was to enter. What greeted them was a room with cream-colored walls, a deep emerald green rug, and two couches of golden silk with ruby red velvet pillows. Additionally, a number of portraits hung on the walls, and a pianoforte stood in the corner. The room bespoke an elegant, understated luxury.

  Rothlan checked his pocket watch with the precision of a man who lived by schedules. "Now, if you will excuse me, I will go and alert the King that you all have arrived." And he exited through the door they had all entered.

  Jenna looked around with wide eyes, overwhelmed by the opulence. She found it was one thing to know in one's head that some people could live like this, and quite another to be a guest in such a place. She settled onto one of the couches with careful movements, her eyes automatically cataloging escape routes—the spacing between furniture, how quickly those heavy doors could be barred from inside, whether the windows were functional or decorative. Old habits from a life of needing quick exits died hard, even in a palace.

  Neric made a beeline for the pianoforte, his face lighting up with pure joy. He played a few experimental chords, his musician's ear immediately recognizing the quality. The instrument was obviously in tune, for it rang out clearly. He continued playing a slow and majestic tune that was appropriate for the environment, his small hands dancing across the keys with practiced skill.

  Jori moved with purposeful steps to study a sword and shield mounted on the wall, his ranger's eye automatically assessing their craftsmanship. Wenthe bounded over to join him, chattering excitedly about the workmanship while he nodded at appropriate intervals.

  Perx approached a bookshelf with the intensity of a scholar, scanning titles with rapid efficiency. Monoffa drifted over to join him, her curiosity piqued by anything that might trigger a memory.

  Cali stood in the center of the room, her serene presence bringing a sense of calm to the space as she observed her companions with gentle attention.

  Kere fought the urge to pull out her disguise hat and don something more fitting for the environment. She wondered, Is magic even allowed in the castle? Would it be deemed a hostile action? Her natural caution won out, and she decided she didn't want to risk finding out.

  The sound of approaching footsteps—measured, confident—made conversation die. Neric's hands lifted from the piano keys as the door opened with a soft click. Rothlan entered first, his posture more formal than before, followed by a vigorous-looking human man in his early 50s with brown hair that was grey at the temples and blue eyes who wore a gold crown. Despite his average height, King Eldoran's presence seemed to fill the room, his bearing radiating the quiet authority of someone accustomed to command. The guards flanking the doorway stepped aside with synchronized precision as he swept in, his crown catching the light from the crystal chandelier. Rothlan announced, "May I present to you all His Royal Majesty, Eldoran Jelnavarro, King of Andovarra. Your Majesty, these are the warriors who won the Trials of Eight."

  Kere's first instinct was to protest that they weren't really warriors, but she bit her tongue, recognizing that this wasn't the moment for such clarifications. Instead, she offered a graceful bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty." The others quickly followed her lead, each in their own style—Neric with theatrical flair, Jori with military precision, Cali with serene dignity.

  King Eldoran raised his hand with practiced authority. "Bowing is only necessary in the Throne Room, and we aren't there," he said, his warm baritone voice carrying natural command. "I'm afraid that I don't have the time to play the genial host the way I would like. I will have Rothlan see to your rewards, but for now I would like to both congratulate you all on your win and ask you for your aid with something."

  Jori stepped forward slightly, his tactical mind immediately engaged. "Our aid, Your Majesty? What could we possibly aid you with?"

  The King's expression grew more serious as he got down to business. "My second son is getting married to the Princess of Takatari. He will undergo a wedding ceremony there, and then return with his bride here to undergo a ceremony by Andovarran traditions. He needs an escort to keep him safe."