Feldard woke from his sleep, his demeanor no worse for having drank copious amount of ale last night. “Of all the inconsiderate, ill-mannered, lout-brained notions, whose idea is it to be so loud this early in the day!?” The dwarf made his way to the window and opened the shutters to look out at the street below. “What’s going on down there? People are trying to sleep here!” the dwarf shouted down to the crowd below, irritated.
The few down below that bothered to acknowledge his question and concern did so rudely. The dwarf gave a huff and began to get himself dressed. He might as well go down and see for himself what the big deal was.
Stephan dragged himself from a deep peace with no little irritation at the din out the wind hole. Feldard’s paroxysmal sentiments added to the annoyance. “By the Veldar! This is not good!” He rubbed his eyes and stretched the length of the too-short cot. Rising, he found gravity yet a further irritation as he stumbled to the wash basin. The coolish water splashed across the woodsman’s face helped. The world started to clear a bit.
Seeing Feldard readying to leave, Stephan followed suit. Looking out the wind hole again, he said “Breezy out there. Hard for a flying carpet to get around? I wonder?”
Hasan watched as Stephan and Feldard fought themselves into a standing position. The elf moved downstairs, trudging like a dwarf himself, and followed the procession. It was hopeless. He knew the party would stay in Threshold longer. if nothing else, they were curious.
Ludo gathered his things together and scrambled down the stairs after the others, he tripped over trying to put his boots on and thudded into a wall. Curses from the rooms inhabitants followed him as he followed the others outside. Ludo’s eyes watered in the harsh daylight, that was so used to the smokey gloom of the inn. “Damn they are loud – he yelled to Stephen, bloody pious clerics, just because they don’t sleep in they feel they to make sure no one else does either”.
Turning to Stephen and Hasan in turn, are we to go and see the flying carpet, I have never seen one before, do you think I could sit on it? After the wake held for Nicolai he felt in the need for some fun and excitement. Surely that would be our best bet to find out where Golthar had gone.
Stephan eyed the blusterous sky. “Ludo, if you see a flying carpet, I don’t think it’ll be in a parade. But you may get a ride of ‘ol Gol’ gets you.” He ended with a maniacal grin.
Looking at the sky again, “But I wonder if the wind keeps things like flying carpets away?”
When Feldard finally, made it downstairs, he found he was faced with the same problem now as what he faced the day he first met Miklos and Maruc—a wall of human backsides blocking his view of the procession. He could try to jostle his way through to the front, but all it would take is one flatulent individual and his whole day would be ruined from that point on.
The dwarf glanced along the edge of the milling people and spotted that one same youth he’d employed yesterday. The lad was balanced precariously on the rim of a rainbarrel – just in front of the building beside the inn. Feldard made his way along the edge of the crowd towards the boy.
“Hey lad!” He shouted up to the boy to be heard above the blare of the trumpets and rest of the processional. “What’s going on? Some sort of celebration?”
“‘Tis the Annual Patriarchal Parade!” replied the boy excitedly.
Musicians played a lively tune as they marched down the streets, accompanied by a detachment of town guards wearing their finest surcoats. A large white and gold palanquin held aloft by eight bearers swayed down the street. Sitting in the palanquin was the Patriarch, Sherlane Halaran. The elder Thyatian warrior cleric was clean shaven, his white hair blew in the breeze as he smiled warmly at the people.
Ludo moved along the street following the procession, spying a bakery stall, he slipped close to a bench that had some hot bread sitting on it and slipped a roll of bread under his arm, and then moved further along the street intermingling with the public, before finding a quiet corner to eat his breakfast.
On the other side of the street, a figure dressed in yellow caught Ludo’s eye, and then Hasan’s. Soon everyone saw him. It was Golthar, accompanied by a tall, dark-haired woman dressed in a brilliant blue cloak. Golthar glared at them from across the street, and then blended back into crowd, eventually disappearing along with his companion. With the procession filling the street, it was impossible to get at them.