Story: The Glove, IX

( Part VIII , X )

(I could just doodle randomly here until I come up with something not-terrible. Perhaps it would be a description of Steffan's room at the inn, or motivation for the sundering of Ganymede's society into such a disjointed system. Maybe it could be an advancement of the reasoning why Steffan didn't take the job offered him? How exactly did the mountain behind the reception desk of the Rock of Augustus know why Steffan was coming, anyway?)

"Ah, it's a good thing that you arrived when you did, as I was about to shut for lunch, as Aggie is away today on college course. You wouldn't think she would need to know any more after two degrees, but it's a funny old world." The mountain was still talking, and Steffan hadn't managed to get many words into the spaces left over. "It will surely be nice to have such a linguist in the place, when she's done."

"I, uh, who's Aggie?" Enquired the young arrival rather dazedly of his impressive companion.

"Oh, my niece Agnethia. She's the brain of the family. Used to keep fish in the old casks we used for making cider. Fine girl, if a bit prone to jumping to conclusions."

There was a pause in the proceedings, as Steffan's host showed to him his room, stuffed a key into his hand, and went back downstairs for his luggage. It was a warm room, with some nice rugs and minimal decoration. The bed was bouncy enough, and by the time the innkeeper had returned, Steffan had recovered some of his wits. You may have noticed that the young piper is nonplussed rather easily. Such is the way of life.

When the man mountain returned, Steffan bounced up and thanked him politely, and then asked him his name.

"Well, that's a good question, lad. Not quite as good as 'What on Troos is going on?' but getting there, definitely." He stomped over to the most substantial looking wall and leaned back. "My name is Rook, and I run this place. For a while now it has been the Rook of Augustus, at least in my head."

"And you were expecting me because...?"

"Ah, well, a little birdie told me you might be coming along. Let's leave it at that for the moment, shall we?"

"Leave it at that?! By the moons of Troos, what is going on?" Steffan's curiosity was beginning to overflow.

"Well, it can at least wait until after dinner, don't you think?" Rook was definitely looking evasive, but the mention of a meal kicked Steffan's insides into overdrive.

"Dinner?"

"Aye, lad, I'll tell you a little bit of the status quo after eating. You did the right thing by not joining the Guild, that I'll tell you now. Let's get to the pasta and the meat!" With that, Rook the mountain led Steffan away to the banquet room, and we adjourn once again.

There shall be more...