Random 37

"Are there? Most I know from back home are described rather than given a name. The bonethief, the shadowwalker, the lightbearer, the stormcaller, the thrice-dead traitor..." She blinked and suspected a misunderstanding, and without further thinking about it asked, "Is 'The Hat' a name or a title?"

"Hmm. I have to say that I am used to monsters having names. Everything else is just dramatisation and extra information, I feel... but perhaps that is the way of Eodea," he said, considering the question. "It could be both, although I think it to be a name more than a title. After all, how many people would have the profession of a hat or a fox?"

"Maybe 'title' is the wrong word, then." Sylvie shrugged. "I wouldn't bet money that it's the same all over Eodea, either."

"I would hardly bet money that it is always the same even in two neighbouring villages," Sebastian replied, shrugging. Civilisation -- or people in any amount -- worked in strange ways. "Perhaps we should just call them names all and be done with it?" he suggested.

"What, like 'idiot' or 'scarecrow', for provoking a fight?"

That got a grin. "No, no. Titles are names too... after a fashion. That is what I meant."

She nodded slowly. "With individually earned labels particularly, I can see that."

Thinking back of how he started the conversation, she asked, "What besides heroes, villains and maybe monsters makes a legend?"

"Miracles, perhaps?" Sebastian said, smelling the wine in his glass. "Legends are, in general, about a simple mortal of some kind achieving some manner of victory... or losing something. Sometimes there are miracles involved." Pause. "Ah. And vague veracity."

Sylvie focused on that last point. "Like hearing from one that the summoner-mages of Latanra were betrayed by the demon they summoned in good faith, from someone else that they made mistakes because they were too arrogant, from someone else yet that they were insane and wanted to destroy their land because people did not worship them, and the histories quoting their own words claim the reason was a chain of small mistakes and inopportune circumstances.

I don't remember a version of that told as the story of one mortal, though."

"It stands to reason that there really were more than one summoner-mage that perished, maybe all of them, perhaps? And what if all of those stories were tiny fragments of truth?" Sebastian suggested.

"Not all of the mages, some survived and even left records. I have to admit my first impulse is to give their own words more weight than that of someone telling a story to scare his children - until I remember that those involved had all reason to shift the blame on mistakes, preferrably made by the dead, or circumstances. And then there's mistakes or deliberate editing by copyists, or the chance that the diary was a fake in the first place."

Sylvie shrugged and continued, frowning, "I can't believe all twenty-five of them actually wanted to sink the continent they lived on, or that if one actually had that in mind, the others would have let them, knowingly. All other kinds of stupidity and arrogance, you might have found at least one among them, but I cannot imagine that kind off mass insanity."

"Perhaps that is exactly why there are legends of them," the half-elf said, bringing his braid over his shoulder again. He fingered it idly. "This may not fit my confessed status as an optimist --" or was it pessimist this time? damnit! "-- but I can believe that an entire group of people would want to do something akin to that."

Sylvie froze for a moment, before forcing herself to relax. That legend she was taking entirely too seriously. "I guess it does not matter. Those that weren't killed during the disaster were killed in the witchhunts after. Or if those stories aren't true, died of old age long ago."

"Yes. It does not matter. The show on the other hand..." he paused, looking to the side again. "Presently it seems it is time for the second act."

The blond they had met before the meal approached, looking far more jovial than before. He had with him another young man, well-dressed and neat.

Sylvie found her friendly-interested smile again, or at least one looking quite like it, to greet the newcomer with.

"Hello again. I trust the food was satisfactory?" said the blond man, smiling in a very rehearsed manner.

Sebastian smiled and raised his glass for a moment. "It was excellent, thank you. I take it this gentleman is the, ah..." He fell silent as he looked at the well-dressed young man. For one reason or another the half-elf suddenly looked very amused.

The blond laughed softly. "Yes, yes, quite. This is Robare. He will be playing against you tonight. Is there anything else we can get you?"

Sebastian glanced down at his glass. "Oh, kind of you to ask, sir. I believe a healthy amount of water and some manner of desserts or snacks would be just fine." The half-elf's eyes turned toward Sylvie and the dragon. Especially the latter. "Carrots?"

Half the dragon answered with a "rrrrt?" sound, the other yawned in the other direction.

Sylvie gave a little chuckle and said, "Yes."

Turning to the blond directly, she added, "And could we please get a bowl along with the water, in case the dragon gets thirsty?"

The person in question was staring at the dragon a little too curiously. "Certainly, madam. It shall take only a moment. Please enjoy yourselves!" And so he left, leaving them with Robare.

"Robare, was it?" Sebastian asked, looking at the man with a smile full of undisguised amusement.

"That it was, sir," Robare said. There were people with silky voices: Robare's was one such. His manner of speaking was friendly and polite.

"Call me Sebastian."

"A pleasure, sir." Robare looked at Sylvie. "And ah, I see they did not exaggerate when they told me that there was a very fair lady indeed accompanying this gentleman..."

Not that Robare could see it, but Sebastian didn't look entirely amused. Mostly, yes. There was a hint of thoughtfulness in his expression.

Sylvie's eyebrows rose a little and her mien changed a bit. Less put on, more alive. "Thank you..." She very quickly discarded a few other answers, and settled for, "My name is Sylvie."

"Charmed." Robare smiled and looked at the dragon curiously. He didn't seem all that put off. "And this must be what the gossip is all about."

"Yes, his appetite is legendary," Sebastian said, grinning, and lowered his glass. "Perhaps you should ask for a glass for yourself, Robare? It seems to me we will get along famously."

Robare laughed and put a deck of cards on the table. It looked pretty new. Next to the deck he placed a purse that seemed to have some kind of symbol on it. "Oh, I simply couldn't. I'm here to play cards, after all."

"But of course," Sebastian said, glancing at the cards only once. "Shall we get started, then? I am sure your time is money, as they say."

"They told me you were a smart one," Robare said amusedly. "What is your game, sir?"

"Oh, whatever you think is suitable," Sebastian beamed, looking as if he had not a single care in the world. It took some doing, considering how irritated he was by the state of local nature.

Robare hmmmm'ed, explained the rules of the game the house preferred -- "the very same one," he said, "that Smiling Jack won" -- and began to deal.