Three months.
A gull sang out its hollow, sullen cry from above Colin Leonard, as the prairie dog emerged forth from the darkened cabin of Captain Ghulius Tiberius Gutgore. The marmot after having conversed with the polar bear, now considered carefully the polar bear's ultimatum for finding the treasure and tomb of Aloysius St. Abbot. He realized as he took stock of the information provided to him, that not only had he been barely given enough time to find the treasure and retrieve it; But also, he had not nearly been given enough time to form a large enough party for this grand a quest. As Colin knew from past experience that you needed at least eight members, for a quest of this size. Otherwise, you could not properly form the Star of Balan. A strategic battle formation, which required two healers. (One to hold the Southeast point and one to hold and Southwest point. Their job, to heal the rest of the party and to bolster the defensive abilities of the mages in front of them.) Two mages, (One to guard the eastern cardinal point and one who would guard the western cardinal point. Their duty, to increase damage done by other party members against enemies, and to strengthen the offensive ability of the healers behind them.) Two tanking adventurers, (masters of sword and shield who stood at the front lines, one guarding the northeast point and one guarding the northwest point.) One warrior, (This adventurer's position was at the northern point. Their job, to clear the majority of the field, making it easier for the rest of the party to fight.) And a ranged fighter. (This adventurer guarded the southern point. Their job was to provide cover fire for the rest of the party, and to pick off the enemies who remained.)
Colin sighed. "Dells blast it," he thought, as he strolled to the starboard rail and gazed out over to the sparkling light green waters of a coastal strait, better known by name as the Meridian Strait. A familiar sight which to Colin, meant the journey was almost through. As he knew that anytime he saw these light, bluish-green waters, that it was a welcome home sign from the shores of Port Columbine which Colin estimated now was likely about 174 nautical miles out. Maybe a little less, maybe more. Colin couldn't stay for sure. He knew only, that he was glad to have survived the trip. And that whatever the distance that was left, it was good to know, he would be home very, very soon.
"Ahem."
Colin turned as he suddenly was startled by Donovan, who had come up silently from behind.
"Mind if I join you?" the marten asked, as he received an approving nod and a waving gesture from Colin. The prairie dog indicating in this way, that he did not mind at all, if the marten joined him alongside the portside rail. He simply waited until the marten was standing beside him, before he asked, "So, what can Ah' do for ye'?" Donovan's response, a simple shrug, as he replied. "Eh, I thought you could use some company. You looked awful lost in your thoughts. Sort of like I do, when something really bothersome is stuck on my mind and just won't go away."
"Oh?"
The marten nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "And I think I know what it is that's bothering you too. It's the quest, isn't it? The one Gutgore gave you, to retrieve the treasure from the tomb of that guy Aloysius St. Abbot in three months, if you wanted to see that relic stone of yours again?"
Colin sighed. "Yes," he murmured, as he looked away from Donovan back out over the strait. A bit frustrated and a bit relieved, the marten had hit the nail on the head so easily. "Gutgore, ye' heard, gave us three months tah' get th' task done. Ah' was thinkin', about what that meant fer' our plannin' and preparation. How much it would hinder it, an' whether it was even possible to do what ye' promised, tah' get th' treasure back before that time was up. Ah' realized, even though ye' meant well; truthfully, it's really not all that feasible tah' gather th' supplies we need for th' trip, as well as tah' form a proper sized party of eight, and still have time tah' find th' tomb and get th' treasure back here, before Gutgore leaves wit' that stone. Ah' mean, say we did manage tah' get th' supplies and th' proper amount of people in time. There's still th' matter of ensuring they were qualified for the job. Normally, adventurers who want tah' take on a quest of this caliber, will have accumulated years or even decades of experience, before they take it on. They will have made allies who can help wit' th' quest. A task which can take at th' bare minimum, a year to a year and a half, if ye' do it right. Gutgore knows this. He's been on more than his fair share of quests and has had hands-on experience with the process. So tah' send us on a quest of this scale without giving us th' proper time tah' prepare..."
"...You're saying he wants us to fail. That he gave us this handicap on purpose, to try and make it as difficult as possible, to get the task done."
Colin nodded. "Exactly," he muttered as he slammed his staff down on the deck, in frustration. "Unfortunately," the prairie dog added, "'Tis' already early spring here in Port Columbine. That means wit' the ships bein' able to leave port again, so too, will th' veteran adventurers of Mintara soon be departin' for other parts of th' continent and th' world, aboard those ships."
"So... they won't be here long then."
Colin shook his head. "Eight weeks at th' most," he muttered. "They'll stay tah' celebrate th' Sun Festival Ah' wager, and then will be off tah' who knows where, after having waited for 3 and a half months, for this season tah' arrive."
Donovan nodded solemnly, as he accepted this reality. "We'll have to move fast then," he murmured. "Do you have any ideas where or with whom, we should start?"
The prairie dog slowly shook his head. "Sadly," he muttered. "Nay, ah' do not. Ah've been gone six months remember, so Ah' don't even know who's in town right now. That's why, we need tah' speak with someone who does. Someone who's literal business it is, tah' know everyone currently in town, so that she can help them in case they need it."
"Oh?" Donovan chuckled, as he watched the light, greenish-blue ocean waves churn in front of him. "And just who would that be?" he muttered as a gull called out overhead. "I take it from the way you said she, that you have someone in mind?"
"Mmm."
Colin responded with a chuckle of his own, followed by a smirk. "Aye," he replied with a quiet yet confident voice, as the ship finally began to pull into port. "Indeed, ah' do. In fact, this person is a very old friend, who happens tah' also be a disarmingly calm, witty, and intelligent lass. She is th' chief of humanitarian aid and support and is one of th' five heads of th' Pentarchy in th' Otterian Empire. Her name, is Gloriana Fenbrake. And as far as Ah' know, she is probably our best bet at acquirin' the locations of those other six persons who are needed fer' our journey."
"So... where do we meet her then?"
Colin shook his head."Mmm-mmm," he muttered, dismissively. "Nay, lad. Not where. When. Ah' mean, yer' right. Given our time constraints, it does make sense tah' meet wit' her as soon as possible. And I agree under normal circumstances, that's just what we would do. However, when you take into consideration our delay in the Courtyard of Calypso, and how gettin' caught there totally bejanked everythin'… Nay. Ah'm afraid we'll have to at least wait until tomorrow lad, if we want to speak with her. Right now, ah' just do not want to disturb her. Especially, while she's tendin' to her own issues of havin' to help set up for the sun festival's openin' day tomorrow. She's got a lot tah' do ye' know. She has to make sure all the public aid stations are fully stocked; in case someone gets hurt. She has to make sure there are enough volunteers hired, to guide people where they want to go, and enough mediators employed in case something gets out of hand...Oh, sure. Ah' know fer' someone who's never even been tah' Mintara, much less this part of it, it must seem like ah'm talkin' nonsense, makin' all this fuss about a festival. Maybe tah' you, it is. But believe me lad, to these otters and the people who live here? Oi! This is about the most important and most excitin' thing that happens in a backwater like this. It's...well how can ah' put this, so ye'll understand? It...um...well, it's the one month out of the year, where our region gets a break from the dreary day to day routines, we otherwise seem tah' get caught up in. It's a break from the monotony. A time when we can relax, when we can enjoy life, and when we can take pleasure in knowing that we are supportin' an annual boost in the Empire's economy, simply by hosting this extravagant event."
Donovan raised a brow. "Wait..." he murmured. "Run that by me again? You said you provide a boost to your empire's economy? How? I mean if everyone is taking time off to enjoy this event, then how..."
"How does it improve our empire's standin' against the other nations?" Colin chuckled. "Allow me to give a better explanation," he elucidated. "First, ye' have tah' have a better understandin' of just how big this festival actually is. It's actually grown by quite an amount, since it was first conceived generations ago as a small, exclusive, religious festival, meant only for otters who wished to commemorate and reflect on all the effort and hard work which past generations had put in. A sort of ritualized bonding between the spirits of past and present, so as to give clarity and focus when movin' into the future. It was a very important part of otter culture for the longest time, as it helped them to refresh their sense of appreciation for the toils and hardships had to be endured by their ancestors, simply so that they their descendants could have a better life than the generation before."
Donovan nodded. "I understand," he murmured, grasping the concept. "So, it was a way to refresh one's dedication to self and people. A way to remind one's self, not only of who you are as an individual, but also as a part of the whole. Am I right?"
Colin smiled and reciprocated Donovan's nod. "Absolutely, lad." he muttered. "That exactly right, and that's also why to this day, you still have disputes over the changes which were made by the Pentarchy, the five-part government who rule this region of Mintara. Because for those who believe in the essential part this tradition has played to the survival of Otterian society, the sudden change of lettin' outsiders in and allowin' them to join in the festivities for no other purpose than to support an annual boom in the economy...heh. Well, let's just say 'affront,' is too small of a word, to describe their feelings on the matter. Ah' think some of them, quite personally, would like to ride the entire Pentarchy out on a rail, for this matter. That's why, every year when festival time comes around, the entire group of five has their security tripled and why also Gloriana as I mentioned, is so busy the day before the festival. Not only does she have to make sure everything is set up so that everyone enjoys themselves. She also has to work with her cousin Wartan Tan, to ensure that security is at its fullest in case, Balan forbid, we get a repeat of the last few years."
"The last few years?"
Colin nodded. "The Anatan Covenant," he replied. "A bunch of radical zealots who think that the Pentarchy have strayed from the path of the founding prophets, and who believe that their actions involving the festival and other events and decrees put forth by the Hereditary Five, as the Pentarchy is also known; are driven by the true word and will of Ana and Tan. Just...they're nutcases, the lot of them. Stay away, if you meet one, okay? A lot of them are just disgruntled citizens, and are looking fer' away to express their grievances against a government who they think has turned a blind eye and a blind ear. That's all, okay?"
Donovan chuckled. "Okay," he replied getting the drift of what Colin was laying down. "I'll be careful. And I understand from what you're saying, why it's so important we let this Gloriana person complete her work for today. As well as why, we should wait before we speak with her. You're right, this clearly sounds like it's not a typical festival. If it truly has been opened to both secular as well as religious types, then the cities of this Empire must be packed during its duration, is that correct?"
Colin laughed. "Aye," he replied with a warm-hearted tone. "That'd be correct. Streets will be filled. Vendors from all corners of the continent will arrive to increase their renown, and the inns will be completely full. A fact which, um, actually brings me to a bit of a delicate subject."
"Yes?"
Colin sighed, as he turned away from the ocean and back toward Donovan. "Neither you nor your sister, have a place to stay right?"
"Right."
"And you understand, that it's near impossible now to get a room, because of what I just explained about the festival. About the city almost exceeding its capacity and..."
"Colin."
"Hmm?"
"Get to the point. What are you trying to say?"
The prairie dog sighed again. "I'm trying to say," he said, whilst shaking his head, "That despite you not being able to find a room at an inn, there is one place at which you can find a room for you and your sister."
"Oh?" The marten was intrigued. "Where's that?" He asked. "Is it some out of the way place few people know about or..."
"It's my house."
Donovan fell short on his witty remarks. "Oh," he murmured, suddenly realizing what Colin was getting at. "Oh. Oh no," he said waving his hands. "Colin, my sister and I could never accept that. I mean, I understand the conditions. But we could never impose on you like that. It would be so sudden, and you would hardly have any time to get ready for us and..."
"...And it's no problem at all," Colin reassured the marten as he placed a paw gently on the marten's shoulder. "Besides," the marmot added, "Ah' technically still need tah' repay ye' anyway, fer' the way ye' volunteered to aid me back there in ol' Gutgore's private chambers."
"Oh that? Well, you can forget about that..."
"No, I can't."
"Huh?"
The prairie dog chuckled. "Mintaran economy code 1, sub paragraph C.," he recited. "Fer' every action performed, be it out of good will, in expectancy of a product, or in expectant of a service; thus, must the provider always be repaid in kind, by a similar act of good will, provision of a product or provision of service, to equate agreeable payment between the two parties."
Colin chuckled again. "What that means," he clarified, "Is legally, ah' must reciprocate any act of good will provided tah' me, any service given tah' me, or in the case of an object I wish to purchase; there is a clause, which stipulates how I must pay for the object. That in essence, both the party of the first part, the customer, and the party of the second part, the merchant, must enter into an accord wherein both parties mutually agree on a task for the party of the first part tah' undertake. Something, which cannot be life-threatnin' and which must be within the faculties and abilities of the party of the first part, it must be agreed that upon completion this will be a task that not only equates tah' the value of the desired item. It also in its completion will benefit the party of the second part, as well."
"In other words..."
"In other words, it's the law," the prairie dog elucidated whilst he gave a light chuckle. "For me tah' repay you this way, that is. Ah mean...sure. Maybe bein' from somewhere else, it's hard to understand. And ah' get and appreciate, why ye' wouldn't want to take my offer, and why ye' think you'd be an imposition. But lad, let me tell ye' a truth...ye'd honestly be more of an imposition, if ye' did not take mah' offer. Ah' mean, consider it. Accordin' tah' the law, ah' have to repay you fer' what ye' did in ol' Gutgore's office with a good deed of mah' own. Somethin' ah'm tryin' tah' do right now, right?"
"Right."
"Okay. Now, say ah' do let ye' turn mah' offer down out of courtesy. How do ye' think that leaves me? Ah'll tell ya, lad. It makes me look criminal. It makes me look like ah'm willin' tah' take advantage of another's kindness and worse yet, it makes me look felonious tah' mah' friends an' family. Now really, do ye' want tah' put me in a bejanked situation like that?"
Donovan laughed.
"Okay, okay!" he replied submitting to the prairie dog's persuasion. "I get it. I get where you're coming from. Fine, we'll stay with you, happy?"
Colin's mischievous smile returned. "As a lark," he replied coyly. "Besides, in the end, when you think about it, this is an arrangement that works out perfectly for everyone. It works for you and yer' sistah' since ye' won't have tah' go lookin' fer' a room at one of the inns, and it works for me since ah' won't have tah' go lookin' fer' you two while we plan our approach to this quest. Everyone can be in one central location. You, me, your sister, and of course Searciara, my daughter. She who I just realized, also may be able tah' provide critical assistance tah' us in the aspect of actually findin' the lost tomb and treasure of Aloysius St. Abbot."
"Oh?" Donovan was intrigued by what Colin said, as he reached back and rubbed his paw against the base of his neck. "Well, that's interesting to know," he murmured, clearly wanting to know more about the cleric's daughter. "I mean, what makes her an expert?" The marten asked. "Does she have what could be described as strong 'expertise' in this field of study or something like that?"
Colin snorted. "Oh lad..." he murmured, unable to stifle a laugh, which he then needed a moment to contain again after it slipped out. "Oh...Oh I'm sorry," the prairie dog apologized. "Ah did not mean to seem rude, it's just ah' always forget what it's like fer' people who haven't yet met mah' darlin' child. Ah mean, as fer' yer question...nay. She does not have what most might call, 'an officially recognized degree,' as that would be hard for her to obtain, considerin' she only just turned eight today."
"She what?"
Colin laughed. "Aye!" he replied, always amused by people's reactions, when they heard this bit of news. "However," he added, "don't judge mah' daughter based on her age. She has more brains stacked inside that pretty head of hers, than most scholars can claim to have, by the time they graduate a university. Oh, I swear to ya' lad, ya' give her a chance, and she'll tell ya' more on any subject than any dusty university professor will swear to have forgotten. She's read up on the studies of Tickner Edwardes from twentieth century Earth in the times before the Mintarans; how she got her hands on some of those rare tomes I'll never know; and has taught herself to raise bees and to make the best honey in this entire region of Mintara. Why, she's even taught herself the ancient art of cheesemakin'. An art which also originated from human civilization and which my daughter saw fit to resurrect and refine, it is somethin' where others are now seeking advice from her on how to properly do it themselves. So ya' see, even without that fancy degree, ah'm very proud of her. Ask anyone, an' they'll tell ya' the same. They'll tell ya' she's done much for her village. And that even while she is a child, she still has earned great respect from those who know her best.
"So..."
"So, she's a Balan blessed savant, mah' lad. A genius who though has had a few difficulties in her life, is all the same gifted, with a unique ability tah' see the world through a lens that not even ah' will be able to glimpse. An ability, ah' admit, ah' envy. Because no matter how hard some in this world will try to tear her down for what she is, they will never ever be able to take that part of her which allows her tah' see the world in a unique and incomparable manner. The part which allows her tah' notice things, which otherwise go unnoticed by those who don't share her gift and...and do things, no one else can. Does...Does that make any sense at all?"
Donovan nodded slowly. "Yes..." he replied, as he took into consideration what was said about Searciara. "...I think it does," he murmured. His thoughts falling to what life had been like for him before leaving the isle of Jutfaang. How for years, even before his parents' death, he'd never been able to figure out why he felt different from the other martens on the island. Was it something he'd done, he'd wondered at times, which kept him from being accepted? Was it, he had wondered other times, simply prejudice against him by the community, and that is why they treated him differently? Or, was it something else entirely? This last possibility, a possibility which again surfaced in the mind of Donovan, as he took note of the similarities between himself and the cleric's daughter. How, they both had been forced to overcome challenges in life. Not out of any consequence, by any malicious entity. But simply, because their point of view and the way they viewed reality was too counteractive and too counterintuitive, to the way the rest of society seemed to comprehend it. In fact, what Donovan started to realize, was this was why he had actually left Jutfaang. Not, because he'd been driven solely by a passion for adventure, but also, because he wanted to experience more than the monochromatic viewpoints of reality, which were so heartily embraced and encouraged on the Isle of Jutfaang. He wanted to experience the kind of varied and diverse viewpoints which Colin and Colin's daughter Searciara could offer to him. Would getting to know people like these, help him in his original goal of trying to find himself, and where he belonged in the world? Would they help him to broaden his horizons and aid him in the task of understanding others alongside himself?"
The marten chuckled. In pondering the questions of what has come to be known as Donovan 's first enlightenment, he at this same moment, extended a paw toward Colin which the marmot gratefully grasped, as a sign the Donovan was willing to accept the cleric's invitation, and would be willing to stay at his house with his wife Maxine and daughter Searciara. It seemed, Colin was happy to not be in legal trouble over an unresolved agreement, just as much at Donovan was, to have a place for he and his sister to stay. Now, as the ship pulled closer to the docks, it seemed the marten had just one last issue to settle with Colin.
"Um...ahem," the marten murmured, as he cleared his throat. "Just one last thing. You never addressed where my sister and I should go to meet you. Do you want us to go straight to your house and meet you there? I mean do you want to give us directions or..."
"...or what should you do?" Colin chuckled. "Just be here in an hour," he replied, so to put the marten's worries at ease. "Ah' still have tah' check on the young girl you caught me with earlier," he clarified, "But if you and yer' sistah' could get packed and be here by the time Ah' get back, then ah' gladly will walk wit' you to mah' house. Is that agreeable?"
Donovan nodded. "That's agreeable," he replied, as he loosened his grip on Colin's paw. The marten and prairie dog after having said good-bye for a time, then parted ways with Colin retreating back to the berth and Donovan back to the cabin that he shared with his sister. A place, he admittedly did not look forward to returning to. As the marten knew quite well, the moods and behaviors of Valorisa Dashraft. He knew the way she hated for the events of her life to be anything but a single strategized and organized sequence. How chaos and unplanned things did not tend to agree with her.
To tell her this? That he'd gotten them caught up in a venture of trying to find a lost tomb and a lost treasure which had been missing for centuries. But which they were supposed to help find, within a span of three months?
The marten gulped, as he considered how this sounded. He sighed as he reached down and grasped the handle to the door of his and his sister's cabin. Oh, great Originator, how he hoped she was at least in a good mood, as he entered. Considering what she was about to hear, she might do anything from scold him to throw him overboard, depending how well this went. So, Originator, please...let this go well."