Chapter 355: The Brownie Caravan
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Chapter 355: The Brownie Caravan
Rory Brindleberry had worked all night packing the carts, and as the sun came over the horizon, he looked over at his tired relatives sleeping on a bed that hadn't been dismantled and stowed yet. The lads and lasses had worked hard all through the night, and he smiled at the thought of what came next. Taking a pot of lukewarm coffee from near the hearth, he stood over them, and then dumped the contents onto the sleepers. They awoke with various complaints.
"What da' hel?" "Who be play'n games?" "Wah! No cream in my cuppa. No cream!"
Their pitiful wails came to end when Rory raised his voice and encouraged them to get back to work. "Outta bed, slackin' hay sawers! You ain't been at it for even a day! When the carts is movin', then you ken steal the shuteye. Grab you some gatherin' bags and scour the warrens for anything we left and snatch up every last item. We not be coming back this way for awhile, maybe evah!"
The gaggle of young brownies raced into the maze of caves and rooms that made up their current warrens, looking for missed cups, door knobs, hinges, and every last nail or brick they could shove into their gathering sacks. The coffee had put the zing back into their step, and the promise of sleeping for several days helped them do their work properly, stripping the warren to bare dirt.
Outside, Rory checked every strap of the goats' harness and made sure their muzzles were tight. He'd grown up around goats and knew better than anyone to trust them not to eat anything in front of them. They'd eat the wheels off the next cart in line if you didn't keep them muzzled. They were evil tempered, mischievous by nature, and always looking for a snack. But he had to admit, if only to himself, that he loved them and preferred them for pulling the clan's small, two-wheeled carts. You never had to worry about finding feed for goats, they ate anything. And they pulled double duty as guards during journeys through dangerous territory. Few creatures wanted to face a herd of hungry goats released from their harness and muzzles.
Each of the two-wheeled wooden carts was pulled by two of the goats and even filled to the top of extended rails, they would make good time. There were sixty-seven carts in all, many not used since the last move a generation ago. Brownies never got rid of a good cart; you never knew when time to stay was over. Fae Lords and Ladies were peculiar about their wants and needs, and changed their minds often. When they did, formerly indispensable underlings might suddenly be deemed worthless mouths to feed. Brownies being at the bottom of the social order and the propensity for shit to roll downhill meant they were often blamed for everything bad that happened. Somedays, their only way the clan survived was sturdy carts fast goats.
They'd been living hand to mouth these last few years. Lady Astrafalfa had decided that tea and coffee were peasant drinks and moved on to water from the enchanted springs of the Sirens. The Sirens charged her an outrageous amount of gold for flavored water in crystal decanters, and used the wealth to build castles in their undersea grottos. Riding the waves of the new fad while they could, they brought out a new flavor each full moon, and declared the old flavor to be out of style. Meanwhile, Clan Brownbrier had been forced to take a contract to dig tunnels for lazy badgers, gaining their dubious protection. The badgers would be returning soon to their burrows, now depleted of anything the brownies had made. The badgers had cheated on the contract wherever they could, as badgers were want to do, refusing to pay for work done and claiming poor quality. The brownies felt no guilt returning the favor and teaching them the need to include a 'No Take Backs' clause in the contract. And it was a bit of luck the clan was moving on. Broke badgers were hell to work for, and these had been cleaned out to their last copper covering the wagers they'd taken and then had to pay for.
Things clicked into place for Rory. Lost mortal travelers and a knight in Jackelope armor. These were another pair who hoped to take on the mantle that poor Prince Leporidon must set aside. "Certainly, certainly. My people and I are traveling that way. It is too perilous for us to travel further, as we can't use the high road with it's bright lights. But that way is certainly open to such a fine knight and yourself. No one will stop you."
The human scratched his head. Fae roads tended to branch and twist, which is how they got lost in the first place. "What if we hired you as guides and we all took the high road?"
Rory bowed. "Smart, smart. That will work, Squire, and good you thought of it." He turned to his wagons. "No stoppin', we have some lost folk as to need our guidance. Stay close, muzzle to tail, and keep up."
The caravan moved to the raised high road with Rory walking in front with his two new companions. The road was smooth and the magic of its making sped them along. The fairy lights turned night into day and they made good time. Twice the King's patrols came upon them, and twice they passed them by when they spied the large knight in front, hopping and skipping along. By dawn they had arrived at the gate to the Lands of the Summer Lord. The guards welcomed them and let them through when Rory explained they were servants of Countess Suzette. He saddled Legchomper, his fastest steed, and left his people here to rest. He'd said he would guide these two to their destination, but it was foolish to take anyone else along.
"My folks is a wee tired after that walk, but I'll happily escort you two a bit further to where the Princes have their palaces. Just follow along." As expected, Rory had no trouble escorting the knight and squire to the castle of Prince Leporidon. Expecting nothing for his trouble, he was surprised when the knight handed him a bag that reeked of magic. His voice echoed out of the full helmet. "These will help you. You'll know when to use them." Rory bowed low and took his leave, racing his goat back the way he came, not wishing to spend too long in an area so far above his station. He couldn't help but look in the bag at some point. To his astonishment, it was filled to the brim with colored beans, and not ordinary ones! Magic Jelly Beans! Damned right, these would come in handy. He stowed them in his deepest pocket and kicked Legchomper in the sides to get the goat galloping faster.
Back at the palace, the squire knocked loudly upon the entrance. A butler opened the door and stared down his nose at them. The squire stared back. "Sir Larry of Flower Town and Squire Squeak are here for the trials." He handed over an engraved invitation with their names upon it. The butler glanced at it once, his demeanor changing.
Smiling, he bid them enter. "Ah, Sir Larry! You are expected. Come in. I have a cheese tray ready to refresh you after your journey, and then the first trial will begin. Good luck, sir!."
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Chapter 355: The Brownie Caravan
Rory Brindleberry had worked all night packing the carts, and as the sun came over the horizon, he looked over at his tired relatives sleeping on a bed that hadn't been dismantled and stowed yet. The lads and lasses had worked hard all through the night, and he smiled at the thought of what came next. Taking a pot of lukewarm coffee from near the hearth, he stood over them, and then dumped the contents onto the sleepers. They awoke with various complaints.
"What da' hel?" "Who be play'n games?" "Wah! No cream in my cuppa. No cream!"
Their pitiful wails came to end when Rory raised his voice and encouraged them to get back to work. "Outta bed, slackin' hay sawers! You ain't been at it for even a day! When the carts is movin', then you ken steal the shuteye. Grab you some gatherin' bags and scour the warrens for anything we left and snatch up every last item. We not be coming back this way for awhile, maybe evah!"
The gaggle of young brownies raced into the maze of caves and rooms that made up their current warrens, looking for missed cups, door knobs, hinges, and every last nail or brick they could shove into their gathering sacks. The coffee had put the zing back into their step, and the promise of sleeping for several days helped them do their work properly, stripping the warren to bare dirt.
Outside, Rory checked every strap of the goats' harness and made sure their muzzles were tight. He'd grown up around goats and knew better than anyone to trust them not to eat anything in front of them. They'd eat the wheels off the next cart in line if you didn't keep them muzzled. They were evil tempered, mischievous by nature, and always looking for a snack. But he had to admit, if only to himself, that he loved them and preferred them for pulling the clan's small, two-wheeled carts. You never had to worry about finding feed for goats, they ate anything. And they pulled double duty as guards during journeys through dangerous territory. Few creatures wanted to face a herd of hungry goats released from their harness and muzzles.
Each of the two-wheeled wooden carts was pulled by two of the goats and even filled to the top of extended rails, they would make good time. There were sixty-seven carts in all, many not used since the last move a generation ago. Brownies never got rid of a good cart; you never knew when time to stay was over. Fae Lords and Ladies were peculiar about their wants and needs, and changed their minds often. When they did, formerly indispensable underlings might suddenly be deemed worthless mouths to feed. Brownies being at the bottom of the social order and the propensity for shit to roll downhill meant they were often blamed for everything bad that happened. Somedays, their only way the clan survived was sturdy carts fast goats.
They'd been living hand to mouth these last few years. Lady Astrafalfa had decided that tea and coffee were peasant drinks and moved on to water from the enchanted springs of the Sirens. The Sirens charged her an outrageous amount of gold for flavored water in crystal decanters, and used the wealth to build castles in their undersea grottos. Riding the waves of the new fad while they could, they brought out a new flavor each full moon, and declared the old flavor to be out of style. Meanwhile, Clan Brownbrier had been forced to take a contract to dig tunnels for lazy badgers, gaining their dubious protection. The badgers would be returning soon to their burrows, now depleted of anything the brownies had made. The badgers had cheated on the contract wherever they could, as badgers were want to do, refusing to pay for work done and claiming poor quality. The brownies felt no guilt returning the favor and teaching them the need to include a 'No Take Backs' clause in the contract. And it was a bit of luck the clan was moving on. Broke badgers were hell to work for, and these had been cleaned out to their last copper covering the wagers they'd taken and then had to pay for.
Things clicked into place for Rory. Lost mortal travelers and a knight in Jackelope armor. These were another pair who hoped to take on the mantle that poor Prince Leporidon must set aside. "Certainly, certainly. My people and I are traveling that way. It is too perilous for us to travel further, as we can't use the high road with it's bright lights. But that way is certainly open to such a fine knight and yourself. No one will stop you."
The human scratched his head. Fae roads tended to branch and twist, which is how they got lost in the first place. "What if we hired you as guides and we all took the high road?"
Rory bowed. "Smart, smart. That will work, Squire, and good you thought of it." He turned to his wagons. "No stoppin', we have some lost folk as to need our guidance. Stay close, muzzle to tail, and keep up."
The caravan moved to the raised high road with Rory walking in front with his two new companions. The road was smooth and the magic of its making sped them along. The fairy lights turned night into day and they made good time. Twice the King's patrols came upon them, and twice they passed them by when they spied the large knight in front, hopping and skipping along. By dawn they had arrived at the gate to the Lands of the Summer Lord. The guards welcomed them and let them through when Rory explained they were servants of Countess Suzette. He saddled Legchomper, his fastest steed, and left his people here to rest. He'd said he would guide these two to their destination, but it was foolish to take anyone else along.
"My folks is a wee tired after that walk, but I'll happily escort you two a bit further to where the Princes have their palaces. Just follow along." As expected, Rory had no trouble escorting the knight and squire to the castle of Prince Leporidon. Expecting nothing for his trouble, he was surprised when the knight handed him a bag that reeked of magic. His voice echoed out of the full helmet. "These will help you. You'll know when to use them." Rory bowed low and took his leave, racing his goat back the way he came, not wishing to spend too long in an area so far above his station. He couldn't help but look in the bag at some point. To his astonishment, it was filled to the brim with colored beans, and not ordinary ones! Magic Jelly Beans! Damned right, these would come in handy. He stowed them in his deepest pocket and kicked Legchomper in the sides to get the goat galloping faster.
Back at the palace, the squire knocked loudly upon the entrance. A butler opened the door and stared down his nose at them. The squire stared back. "Sir Larry of Flower Town and Squire Squeak are here for the trials." He handed over an engraved invitation with their names upon it. The butler glanced at it once, his demeanor changing.
Smiling, he bid them enter. "Ah, Sir Larry! You are expected. Come in. I have a cheese tray ready to refresh you after your journey, and then the first trial will begin. Good luck, sir!."
Chapter 355: The Brownie CaravanRory Brindleberry had worked all night packing the carts, and as the sun came over the horizon, he looked over at his tired relatives sleeping on a bed that hadn't been dismantled and stowed yet. The lads and lasses had worked hard all through the night, and he smiled at the thought of what came next. Taking a pot of lukewarm coffee from near the hearth, he stood over them, and then dumped the contents onto the sleepers. They awoke with various complaints."What da' hel?" "Who be play'n games?" "Wah! No cream in my cuppa. No cream!"Their pitiful wails came to end when Rory raised his voice and encouraged them to get back to work. "Outta bed, slackin' hay sawers! You ain't been at it for even a day! When the carts is movin', then you ken steal the shuteye. Grab you some gatherin' bags and scour the warrens for anything we left and snatch up every last item. We not be coming back this way for awhile, maybe evah!"The gaggle of young brownies raced into the maze of caves and rooms that made up their current warrens, looking for missed cups, door knobs, hinges, and every last nail or brick they could shove into their gathering sacks. The coffee had put the zing back into their step, and the promise of sleeping for several days helped them do their work properly, stripping the warren to bare dirt.Outside, Rory checked every strap of the goats' harness and made sure their muzzles were tight. He'd grown up around goats and knew better than anyone to trust them not to eat anything in front of them. They'd eat the wheels off the next cart in line if you didn't keep them muzzled. They were evil tempered, mischievous by nature, and always looking for a snack. But he had to admit, if only to himself, that he loved them and preferred them for pulling the clan's small, two-wheeled carts. You never had to worry about finding feed for goats, they ate anything. And they pulled double duty as guards during journeys through dangerous territory. Few creatures wanted to face a herd of hungry goats released from their harness and muzzles.Each of the two-wheeled wooden carts was pulled by two of the goats and even filled to the top of extended rails, they would make good time. There were sixty-seven carts in all, many not used since the last move a generation ago. Brownies never got rid of a good cart; you never knew when time to stay was over. Fae Lords and Ladies were peculiar about their wants and needs, and changed their minds often. When they did, formerly indispensable underlings might suddenly be deemed worthless mouths to feed. Brownies being at the bottom of the social order and the propensity for shit to roll downhill meant they were often blamed for everything bad that happened. Somedays, their only way the clan survived was sturdy carts fast goats.They'd been living hand to mouth these last few years. Lady Astrafalfa had decided that tea and coffee were peasant drinks and moved on to water from the enchanted springs of the Sirens. The Sirens charged her an outrageous amount of gold for flavored water in crystal decanters, and used the wealth to build castles in their undersea grottos. Riding the waves of the new fad while they could, they brought out a new flavor each full moon, and declared the old flavor to be out of style. Meanwhile, Clan Brownbrier had been forced to take a contract to dig tunnels for lazy badgers, gaining their dubious protection. The badgers would be returning soon to their burrows, now depleted of anything the brownies had made. The badgers had cheated on the contract wherever they could, as badgers were want to do, refusing to pay for work done and claiming poor quality. The brownies felt no guilt returning the favor and teaching them the need to include a 'No Take Backs' clause in the contract. And it was a bit of luck the clan was moving on. Broke badgers were hell to work for, and these had been cleaned out to their last copper covering the wagers they'd taken and then had to pay for.Things clicked into place for Rory. Lost mortal travelers and a knight in Jackelope armor. These were another pair who hoped to take on the mantle that poor Prince Leporidon must set aside. "Certainly, certainly. My people and I are traveling that way. It is too perilous for us to travel further, as we can't use the high road with it's bright lights. But that way is certainly open to such a fine knight and yourself. No one will stop you."The human scratched his head. Fae roads tended to branch and twist, which is how they got lost in the first place. "What if we hired you as guides and we all took the high road?"Rory bowed. "Smart, smart. That will work, Squire, and good you thought of it." He turned to his wagons. "No stoppin', we have some lost folk as to need our guidance. Stay close, muzzle to tail, and keep up."The caravan moved to the raised high road with Rory walking in front with his two new companions. The road was smooth and the magic of its making sped them along. The fairy lights turned night into day and they made good time. Twice the King's patrols came upon them, and twice they passed them by when they spied the large knight in front, hopping and skipping along. By dawn they had arrived at the gate to the Lands of the Summer Lord. The guards welcomed them and let them through when Rory explained they were servants of Countess Suzette. He saddled Legchomper, his fastest steed, and left his people here to rest. He'd said he would guide these two to their destination, but it was foolish to take anyone else along."My folks is a wee tired after that walk, but I'll happily escort you two a bit further to where the Princes have their palaces. Just follow along." As expected, Rory had no trouble escorting the knight and squire to the castle of Prince Leporidon. Expecting nothing for his trouble, he was surprised when the knight handed him a bag that reeked of magic. His voice echoed out of the full helmet. "These will help you. You'll know when to use them." Rory bowed low and took his leave, racing his goat back the way he came, not wishing to spend too long in an area so far above his station. He couldn't help but look in the bag at some point. To his astonishment, it was filled to the brim with colored beans, and not ordinary ones! Magic Jelly Beans! Damned right, these would come in handy. He stowed them in his deepest pocket and kicked Legchomper in the sides to get the goat galloping faster.Back at the palace, the squire knocked loudly upon the entrance. A butler opened the door and stared down his nose at them. The squire stared back. "Sir Larry of Flower Town and Squire Squeak are here for the trials." He handed over an engraved invitation with their names upon it. The butler glanced at it once, his demeanor changing. Smiling, he bid them enter. "Ah, Sir Larry! You are expected. Come in. I have a cheese tray ready to refresh you after your journey, and then the first trial will begin. Good luck, sir!."
