The Mouse Who Sang

The new “Baron of Samovar” was in a dangerous situation. He had confronted one of the most powerful forces of evil in the land, and caused the death of the person’s chief informant and agent. The Lady Barbara had been valuable to Yfel Malovil. Of this much Sam was certain. What action he might take, against the newly confirmed Baron, was to be seen. In the meantime, the Baron Gladriel, Sam to his friends, needed to prepare for the assault on Castle Samovar, a place now rife with evil monsters. The Knights, with whom Sam had trained, and various of his friends, were with him almost constantly, until the full extent of the danger be determined.

Sam, and all of the others, had taken to going to the Library each day, researching the creatures they might encounter. They also looked for magics to use, in the event they encountered something truly fantastic. Everyone wore gear which was light armor, but looked like street clothes. Wearing concealed armor, made them less conspicuous, while crossing the city. It was on a return trip from the Library, during an otherwise normal day, when the attack occurred.

In other circumstances, the attack would have been well planned. The attackers had noted how the young Baron traveled, with just a group of friends, and no guards. The attack was planned to drive off the friends, so with luck, a mage could transmute the Baron to metal. In this way they would avoid casualties to themselves, and have an object to bring to their boss, Yfel Malovil, for the reward. They could also sell the statue. It seemed perfect. It wasn’t.

First of all the friends didn’t cooperate. Since some were Knights, and some were warriors of other sorts, instead of being driven off, they sprouted weapons. It seemed obvious they intended to kill their attackers. Acernon, Knight Commander of this group, began to carry the fight to the assassins. The counter-attack was better executed than the primary which spawned it. Acernon, Ace to his friends, was a brilliant tactician, able leader, and perhaps the best fighter, outside of Baron Gladriel. Sam, himself, turned and began to protect his mother and his Archmage teacher, who were beside him. His mother, the Lady Jana, and Lord Eglion, the Archmage, proved to be more than adequate battle mages, sending spell after spell into the would be murderers. The attacking mage, for his part, did manage to cast the spell he had spent days preparing, but to no avail. Sam’s magic girdle turned the casting, causing it to strike his house instead of him, turning a large section of the front stone wall into Platinum.

“Not my boy, you don’t” Jana remarked, cleanly putting a broadleaf arrow between the mage’s eyes, “That should disrupt your concentration, for a moment.” Jana loved the new bow her son had given her, rarely missing a chance to use it.

From the street, a dark elf began an unusual style of fighting. He was obviously skilled, and seemed right at home with the others, in spite of being, perhaps, the only dark elf in this entire section of Chevalier. The Black Cat, as he was called, was nonetheless well known among the locals, as a true hero.

“Watch close, yeah,” Black Cat told the others, and began to leap from one object to the next. He used walls, items in the street, fencing, and even a carriage. He used every available object, to pass over, around, and behind, the assailants, striking at them from the rear, above, and both sides.

“We all gonna learn to do this,” he announced, “It turns out it’s more effective than the normal way, and besides, it’s fun!”

He spoke without showing any signs the exercise was difficult, and never missed a strike. Beyond him on the sidewalk, was a Dwarf. Middle aged, and a councillor to the King, he should have been past his prime. But Tagernoab, for his part, was every inch the Dwarven Warrior. For too long he had been forced to carry the standard of diplomat, and now, he was unbound. His ax, somehow never separated from him, became like a living thing, never stopping in its passage, a blur of destruction, poetry of war.

Sam quickly adopted Black Cat’s movement, having spent much time with him, and realizing its origin. He was not the equal of Black Cat in acrobatics, but had no equal in combat, which more than made up for his shorter leaps and less perfect passes. His Sword and Morning star were blurs in the air, and his attacks were too perfect to believe. The would-be assassins were little more than targets, and he was excellent at target practice. His cousin, the Elf Lady and Ranger, Seana, proved more than adequate at the acrobatics Black Cat demonstrated, and almost seemed to be enjoying herself.

Acernon, the Knights, and father Michael the Paladine, were in formation, but it was something to behold. It was the culmination of years of training, brought to fruition by a sudden attack. Swords and shields, and any weapon handy, became a part of a melody of death, played by the Baron Gladriel, with his companions. The attackers either died, or ran into the alleys, and whatever openings they could find. Some wound up on the rooftops, running until there was no where else to flee, and some ran into the sewers, but not many made it away from the fight. Pursuit was not necessary, since no one was likely to return, ever.

Life was slowly becoming routine, for the new Baron of Samovar. The “War on Monsters” was being conducted by way of information extracted from the late Lady Barbara. Sam (Baron Gladriel), and his friends, were thus free, and began planning their assault to recover Castle Samovar itself. A multi-part campaign, since the ancillary locations would have to be overcome first, the time had come. No one was exactly sure what had taken up residence around Castle Samovar, but whatever they found would have to be dealt with, before the Castle could be taken. Now the knights, who had studied with the young Baron, had all finished school, and Sam was back from his stint as ‘Rat the thief’, everyone was settling into a normal routine. What family, and close friends, Baron Gladriel had, those who hadn’t been killed when Castle Samovar was overrun, now stayed close, in spite of any other duties. They all felt a responsibility to the young man, so burdened with duties, and bereft of home and much of his family. Only his mother and cousin remained, and Lady Jana was suddenly protective of her only child, while Seana simply saw him as the family she had never had.

After the skirmish was over, the senior members of the group, which is to say Jana, Seana, Black Cat, Tag and Eglion, gathered together in the living area of the house. Sam went with the Knights, to report the attack and make sure there were no repercussions. The elders of the group, Sam’s mother, cousin, Best friend, Dwarven advisor, and Archmage teacher, began a discussion which was long overdue. They were concerned about Sam’s inability to use magic. The subject was finding a cure for this. Magic blindness was not a unique condition, but it was extremely rare.

“I have wondered if there might be another answer,” Lord Eglion finally remarked, “But I hate to suggest it.”

“We about out of ideas,” Black Cat noted, “Just spit out what you got.”

“Our Young Baron has shown he can withstand ancient magics”, Eglion said, “And there are a few persons, who have such an ability, who can also use those same spells.”

“You’re talking about the Bards,” Jana put in, “Aren’t you?”

“Bards go crazy,” Seana noted, “That’s out.”

“Not those who can actually use the magic,” Eglion argued, ” There are tests, and the Druids have often been able to work with Bards to perfect their magic. It’s a different style than the modern workings, but it can be powerful, in its own right.”

“He’d have healing and defense, and even a few offensive spells,” Jana agreed, “But I’m going to insist we get Linda involved, she’s the High Druid, I won’t take any chances with the one child who remains to me.”

“Did I hear my name taken in vain?” Linda, the High Druid, asked, coming out of Sam’s Chambers.

The discussion became animated, then, with questions and comments. Finally Linda realized what they had been discussing and began to laugh.

“Your pardons, my dear friends,” She explained, ” If my little Sam couldn’t handle the ancient magics, I wouldn’t be here.”

“What?” Tagernoab put in, “You mean you knew he could use the Druidic arts, and didn’t tell us?”

“I must confess, I assumed you all knew,” she answered him, ” The High Druid is so immersed in Druidic Magic, it becomes necessary, if any man or woman would be consort to such a holy and august person,” she grinned, “They would soon perish from exposure, if not able to wield magic of the same type”.

“How common is this skill with ancient magic?” Eglion wanted to know, “I had thought it quite rare”.

“I’ve been High Druid for over a century now,” Linda responded, “And Sam’s the first ‘man’ I’ve encountered. And now you know, why most Druids are female.”

“Well paint me white and call me William”, Black Cat black used a dark elf saying, from his childhood, “The boy does have a talent.”

Everyone was excited except Sam. His enthusiasm was, at best, underwhelming. Not only was he facing another round of schooling, but it meant all of his plans concerning Samovar would have to be put on Hold, yet again. He wasn’t altogether keen on retaking the castle, and becoming an actual Baron, so any delay was torture. Somehow Sam, or Baron Gladriel, if you will, felt if it chanced for one to became a Baron on Firstday, then it should follow on Thirdday, things would go back to normal. Tag reminded him about his magic blindness being a true handicap, among warriors and adventurers, even though the Dwarf didn’t need to provide such a prompting. It was possible to be a battle mage, but a warrior without magic, was like fighting without a shield. Sam reflected he fought better without a shield, but decided not to mention it. Sam reminded the Dwarf, instead, these days he fought with a heavily magicked scimitar and a mace.

“That reminds me,” Black said, changing the subject, “Lord Eglion, would you be so good as to examine the skinny meat carver our Baron has come to prefer?”

“That’s OK,” Lord Eglion backed away, as Sam offered it to him, “You’re holding a Bane’s Sword, and if I touch it, our High Druid will have to spend the rest of the day making me well.”

“Gimme that,” Linda took the sword in a single, powerful gesture, “It could be cursed, ,,,, some are.”

After she had held it and pressed it against herself, almost reverently, she turned to Sam.

“You have one of only a few such weapons known to exist. All of the others are in the hands of Druids, since their magic is deadly to any not able to wield it.” her expression was one of wonder, “ No wonder you’re such a renowned warrior.”

“The scary thing is,” Acernon put in, having come from the other room, “Sam got his reputation before he came into possession of the sword. Now he’ll probably be as good as I am.”

“Back to his upcoming education,” Linda took over the conversation,” I had decided he would go to the Bard college here in Lackland, but not now. If he can wield this,” she indicated the scimitar she still held, “He’ll have to go to Goldenwood, to the Druid Grove there, and study with Galanfie.”

“I thought Galanfie was dead,” Seana remarked, “Killed by one of his students, I assumed.”

“He’s alive,” Linda assured her, “And he can work with Lord Eglion to make our Sam a Bard in record time.”

“I better go with, ” Black Cat remarked, “To keep down the nightmares.”

Black Cat’s personal spell, the one which quelled nightmares, from whatever source, was coming in handy, too much of the time.

Sam was even less enthusiastic about this new agenda, if it be possible. Had it not been for his awareness of the benefit he would learn some magic of his own, and the chance it might help him with his Samovar problem, he might have vetoed the whole idea. As it was, he intended to find reasons for everyone to go to Goldenwood with him. He turned to Seana.

“Cousin, dear,” he used his most persuasive voice, “Do you think you could get some archery training for the Knights and Father Michael?”

“I can’t use a bow,” Father Michael was quick to speak, “It’s against the code for Paladins.”

“We have Elven slingers, there, who can make an expert of you Mike,” Seana assured him, “As for the rest of you lot, learning the bow couldn’t hurt you. It’s a sure bet, compared to the average elf, you’re not half trained on the weapon.”

No one could argue the truth, the Elves were unmatched in Archery skills, and even if it promised to be a grueling ordeal, well, they had passed the Academy at Lackland. They could hardly refuse this challenge.

· Sam wasted no time in making ready, he took only what he could fit into his backpack and a single trunk, and wore his traveling armor on the trip. The trip was to be by airborne carriage, one drawn by flying creatures. Two carriages held everyone, who was flying, and only one of those had flown before. Seana and Eglion chose to teleport, via magic, and Linda moved by some method known only to her. Jana traveled in the coach, because she wanted to observe Sam. Aloe, Debbie, Ted, and Acernon were in the Coach with Father Michael. John and Frank rode with Jana and Sam. Tag found another method of Travel, as he had flown, once before. The flight was about normal, Jana noted, but the others were almost positive they were going to die, at any moment.

When the trip was complete, Sam remarked he might fly again, when there was a new crop, of thousand-year-old Joshua Trees, to examine. The others all felt such an occasion might be too soon, as the trees only took a handful of centuries to mature, but Frank expressed a desire to do it again. Since whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, he declared himself certain a few more such trips, would surely make him Godlike.

With hurried goodbyes, the group split up, for their various training. Seana took the Knights, and Father Michael, in tow, with Tag assisting. Linda took Sam and Jana to meet Galanfie, who was already alerted to the arrival of the young Baron. Black Cat was already there, somehow. Everyone was anxious to begin, except Sam. He hated being on public display, and Bards were always in the spotlight. He felt this might just be one of the more difficult times in his life. He proved to have the gift of prophecy in this.