Book 3. Chapter 22
The wedding started out a lot like System Day. Rodrige and Madely were hustled back to their separate parent’s homes, and when they came out the guests lined the street. Except on System Day the adults had held candles and watched in silence at night; here it was the middle of the day and everyone hooted and clapped as either of the couple passed by.
Unlike System Day, not everyone in town was part of the ceremony, but even those not involved stopped and clapped and the wedding party went by.
When Rodrige passed his section of the street, Brin clapped and cheered along and followed him down the street until they arrived at the temple. Rodrige and Madely came from different directions to meet at the doors of the temple, and opened the doors hand-in-hand. Music started, played by Davi and Jeffrey.
Instead of regular lute music, it sounded like an entire symphony, no doubt from some Skill or device of Jeffrey’s. The emotional power of [Bard] music hit them all at once; it spoke of celebration, but also dignity and class. It was pompous, in every sense of the word, rather like a French Overture from his old world.
Rodrige and Madely walked all the way down the aisle to stop in front of Ellion the priest at the altar. Only once they were there did the rest of the crowd filter in to take the pews. The music for guests’ entrance was still flowery, but less grandiose than what had been played for the couple. Then the music ended, and a hush followed.
Rodrigue’s best man, his brother, took position to his left, while Madely’s mother stood to her right. With everyone in position, Ellion began his speech.
Ellion spoke to the couple, and through them, the crowd. It was a new experience for Brin, but also sort of nostalgic from his old life. He’d never heard the priest deliver a sermon before; the man usually counseled people one-on-one. He was rather like an army chaplain in that way, guiding people along the path for whichever of the gods they worshiped.
He invoked only the lesser gods in his sermon. He talked about how Eridu demanded strict chastity before marriage for an uncomfortable amount of time, and neither Rodrige nor Madely turned around so Brin couldn’t see how they were taking it, but he thought he saw the evidence of a blush on the back of Madely’s neck.
Then Ellion spoke of Solia’s high esteem of motherhood, how Nedramus expected gentleness and forgiveness, and how Anshar expected men and women to love fiercely and protect each other with boldness. Sezorat and Magelin were lumped together, with a warning about how much they each cherished honesty. Maybe they got less time because the domains of Sezorat and Magelin were so similar to Nedramus and Anshar? He still didn’t know as much as he should about them. Most of what he knew about this world’s theology centered around Solia. He’d read some of her scriptures and he recited his prayers... when he remembered to.
Then Ellion reached behind him to the altar, where a folded tablecloth was sitting prominently on top. He unfolded it solemnly, to reveal a gauzy, nearly transparent white fabric.
“Hastow aught to seyn?” Ellion asked Rodrige. Brin thought it was a different language at first, and only realized he was hearing archaic High Frenarian when Rodrige gave his response.
“I vowen to my lawful wyf to yeven fulle felawship and leautee, to leden and giden hir, to holden and yeven hir lawful sustenaunce, whethir she be riche or povre, seek or hool, foul or fair, from this day forthward, by the hooly ordinance of Solia, I plighten my trouthe.”
Clearly that was a traditional memorized vow, but Brin couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he’d promised to marry Madely even if she was ugly. This sounded like a holdover from days when people got married before ever getting to see each other. The shroud, or veil, over the both of them supported that idea.
Madely’s vow was next. “I behighte to my lawful housbonde to yeven fulle felawship and leautee, to accepten and supporten, whether he be riche or povre, seek or hool, strong or feble, from this day forthward, by the hooly ordinance of Solia, I plighte my trouthe.”
It was interesting that both of them swore by Solia. She seemed to be in high esteem in Hammon’s Bog, but Brin wasn’t sure if that was true more generally or just a local thing.
“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may pierce the veil,” said Ellion.
Rodrigue’s brother drew a sword. Jeweled and golden, it was clearly ceremonial, but the blade looked sharp. Rodrigue took it and cut the veil covering him and Madely in half. The fabric tore easily, clearly designed for it, and the separate pieces fell to the floor.
Everyone stood and cheered, and Brin expected a kiss next. That happened, but not in the way he expected. Ellion kissed both the bride and the groom, both cheeks, Italian-style.
Both Madely and Rodrige opened their eyes wide in shock, but Brin didn’t think it was from the kiss. He could see their eyes scanning back and forth reading something–the telltale mark of someone reading a System notification.
Wait. Was there an Achievement for getting married? He’d ask someone, but then that would be admitting that he didn’t know. He’d have to ask Hogg, but Hogg wasn’t here. Whether he wasn’t invited or he simply hadn’t come to maintain his status as a mysterious hermit, Brin didn’t know.
There hadn’t been a slew of weddings during the siege, so whatever bonus the wedding Achievement gave probably didn’t have any combat applications? Speculation made his mind go to places he’d rather not go here in the temple, under the judging gazes of the gods. He forced himself to think about something else.
The wedding party left the temple. They moved to the town square where Rodrige’s dad invited them to the feast. Brin sat with Davi’s family as they ate. Myra joined them as well since she didn’t have any family in town, and before too long Zilly snuck over to sit with them as well.
The food was surprisingly heavy, even for Hammon’s Bog. Huge mutton chops, root vegetables, and thick gravy, served alongside black bread, somewhat like pumpernickel but even more sour.
Wine flowed quickly and freely, which was a little bit of a culture shock. In weddings in his old life, the teenagers had to wait for all the adults to get drunk first and then sneak off with a bottle to the back outside next to the dumpsters. Here, Davi filled up his glass three times under the approving gaze of both his parents. Even little Yon got a glass, though they watered his down a little, and he abandoned it in disgust after the first sip.
Rodrige, ever the social butterfly, moved from table to table, working the crowd with the kind of natural charm you had to be born with. That had to be as much to do with his celebrity status as his [Carpenter] Class. When he got to Brin’s table, he guessed that Brin probably wasn’t drinking enough, poured him another glass and pushed it into his hands.
Throughout it all, Jeffrey played softly on stage. Only when plates started to get clear and voices started to get loud did he change the tune to something more lively. His song wasn’t the delicate, wandering tones of an artistic piece for listening, the way he normally started his shows. This music had a clear beat. A demanding beat. This was dance music.
Almost before he knew it, Brin was on his feet standing with the men on one side and the women on the other. Rodrige, their bannerman, led them forward while Madely led the other side. The two opposing armies met in the middle and the dance began.
Brin let himself get swept up in the music. Any dance in his past life was marred by social anxiety and awkwardness, as well as a complete inability to dance. Here, he didn’t let that stop him. The only way to get good was to practice, right? His Dexterity should help here.
Not all of the songs were danced in lines like the first one. After that, Davi joined Jeffrey on the stage and they played songs more conducive to pairing off. Before the music lost its hold on him, Brin found himself dancing with Zilly and Myra, as well as six other girls his age, and a few women very much not his age. He’d even ended up pairing up with Bruna at one point, to which Alvir pretended to be beside himself with jealousy. What had she told him?
When the music finally let him go, Brin felt like he’d run a marathon. He thought he was getting kind of good by the end, but he wasn’t sure if that’s because he’d successfully learned how to move or if he’d drunk too much to care.
Through training, you have increased the following attribute: Dexterity +1
[Athleticism] leveled up! 17 -> 18
That had to mean he’d gotten a little bit good, right? He had nothing on Zilly or Myra, though. They both danced as easily and gracefully as leaves on the wind. Zilly made sense, as she had absurdly high Dexterity with her [Rogue] Class, and probably had Skills and Achievements boosting her. Myra was a surprise, though.
The trees all shook and whispered with different voices. “Don’t come near. Stay back, stay away. He lurks. He’ll find you if you enter. Stay out.”
Then the trees cleared away, replaced by a sunny scene of a happy village, with a young boy playing by a river. Brin had to keep reminding himself that this was a puppet show; his brain kept slipping into thinking it was a well-drawn cartoon until he focused on picking apart the individual props.
“In the town, there lived a curious boy named Eli.”
Eli was an actual puppet, not just a wooden prop, and his movement was much more complex and realistic. He laughed and skipped along the river’s edge, trying to follow a slipper fish as it made its way downstream. The chase led him out of the town and into the whispering woods.
“Everyone in the village heeded the warnings of the trees, and stayed out of the forest and away from the creature that lurked within it. But not Eli. He was not afraid of the dark, and was fascinated by the legendary monster that was said to dwell at its heart.”
The voiceover was slow, and only came one every few minutes, dragging the story out a lot longer than it would be if they just told it all at once.
He noticed after a while that the puppets weren’t actually that realistic. The puppet of Eli was just a face painted on wood with no expression. His imagination was filling in the details, seeing a smile when Eli was happy and making his lips move when he spoke. The other props weren’t really as movie-quality perfect as he’d thought, either. These were Skills; the [Puppeteers] were making him see the story as bigger and more complete than it was. They had a shadow of a [Bard’s] power, though it wasn’t so strong. They drew him into the story, removing all the natural barriers between entertainer and audience. After a while, Brin gave up trying to remember it was a puppet show and just let himself enjoy the movie.
“Eli, with a heart full of bravery and a mind full of wonder, decided to venture into the woods. He wanted to find the beast, not to slay it, but to tame it.
“Armed with nothing but a lantern and his unwavering desire, Eli walked into the woods. He wandered for hours, and all the while, the wood urged him to turn away. ‘No, not that way, that way lies the beast! Turn back!’ He disregarded the warnings. If the trees said, ‘Turn not left!’ Eli turned left. When the trees said, ‘Go not further!’ Eli went further.
“He wandered for hours until he came upon a clearing where the moon shone bright, and there he found Grendle. It was a fearsome beast with scales as dark as night and eyes that glowed like embers.
“It was said his roar could shake the earth, but Grendle did not roar. He asked, ‘I hunt for my meat, but I don’t trust meals that wander into my mouth on their own. Why have you come?’
“Eli said, ‘I’ve come to take and tame you and make you mine. You will be my pet and I will be the master.’
“Grendle laughed and said, ‘I accept. Only, you must prove you can provide for me the way that men provide for and protect their pets. Will you give me shelter?’
“And Eli went home and took a shovel. He returned and dug a deep hole in the earth. He dug long and deep, and made a safe place for Grendle to sleep.
“Now Grendle was intrigued. He said, ‘Men give their pets clothing to keep off the cold.’
“And Eli said, ‘They do not, but I will make you a collar.’ and he made Grendle a leather collar and hung it around his neck, and he placed a little tinkling bell.
“Now Grendle said, ‘Men feed their pets and give them drink. Will you feed me? If you will do this then I will be yours.’
“And Eli returned to the village and found the seamstress' daughter and killed her. He put her body in a sack, and drained her blood into a goblet. He took it into the forest and gave it to Grendle to eat and drink. When the beast was done, Eli asked, ‘Now you’ll keep your promise? Now you’ll be mine?’
“And Grendle said ‘Yes. From this day forward I am yours. You have done as I bid and you come when I call. I am not your pet. I am your Master.’
“And so it was. From then on the village knew the forest whispered about a monster and its pet, and the wise villagers heeded them and stayed away.
“And if you ever hear a tinkling bell in the depths of night, stay away. Because if Grendle and his Eli haven’t died, then they are still alive today.”
The story finished to enthusiastic applause, and Brin blinked a little as the hold on his attention slipped away. It was a little disconcerting that they were able to draw him in so fully, but then again he’d always had a hard time looking away from screens in his old world.
With the props, the story had been deeply disturbing, and completely inappropriate for a wedding. It was probably fine since the bride and groom had retired, and the show had definitely had the effect the [Puppeteers] wanted. People were already whispering about where they were going to set up permanently and what other stories they might be able to do.
The note of a lute pierced the thrum, and all eyes went back up to Jeffrey, still up on the stage. “A fascinating performance,” said the [Bard]. “Please, everyone give them another round of applause.”
“Woops, I better get up there,” said Davi.
Everyone cheered again for the [Puppeteers], and Jeffrey clapped along. He was earnest; he wasn’t the type to disparage other artists. He also wasn’t even a little bit insecure. [Bards] were the kings of entertainment. [Illusionists] and [Puppeteers] could only compete for second place.
Davi arrived on stage, and together they played a rousing ballad. This one was appropriate for a wedding. It had a rousing and inspirational love story, swept Brin up into a brutally emotional journey that left tears in his eyes.
They played and sang through the night. Eventually, Rodrige and Madely wandered back to the party. They wore regular clothes, cut in the style of a married couple, and joined in on the dancing.
The party wound down well after dark. Extremely late, for a people who all woke at dawn. Many of the men made a big show about being too drunk to walk. Their wives made a big show about being long-suffering and then swung the men onto their shoulders to carry them home.
Few of them were actually as drunk as they pretended. Brin’s Vitality was the one stat that was on the lower end compared with the townsfolk, and his four glasses of wine had barely left him with a buzz.
A high-Vitality [Farmer] like Alvir was probably completely immune, but he lay on the ground snoring loudly. When Bruna grabbed him by one foot and dragged him towards home, he pretended to not notice that she moved so that his head would hit every hole and plank on the road, and kept snoring.
Brin’s journey into his home in the forest was a lot farther than anyone else had to go, and he didn’t have anyone to carry him. He said his goodbye’s and left, hoping that his Vitality was high enough to stop the hangover in the morning.