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Post by Young Grimwold on Mar 1, 2005 2:22:15 GMT
[ModNote: Continued from Something Brewing.] *YG reaches a house. It looks newly built, but at the same time, appears as if it's aged fast. It resembles a pointed witch's hat that has been squashed and dented. It is implausible and incongruous, threatening yet comical, and difficult to ignore. Staring at it, YG prepares for to face its owner. He wonders how someone so familiar can seem so unknown at the same time. Then again, maybe he's yet to know himself. Contradictions are all too often intimidating to him; but he knows that with an open mind, they can be fascinating. And, as he seems destined (or doomed?) to rediscover so often, he is living in a world of challenges.* *Pushing upon the door, he lets the semi-dark chill of the house draw him in. He isn't spotted. YG decides to preempt the unpredictable.* I'm... I'm back. Another voice: 'Oh, 'allo, dearie!' Hello, mother. [OOC: To be continued...]
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Post by Young Grimwold on Mar 3, 2005 23:30:04 GMT
*The one known to so many as nothing more, and nothing less, than Mrs. Grimwold, shuffles forward, so that the ailing emberlight from the hearth is shed upon her, making her visible to her progeny. It wasn't until he returned from his travels, and saw and heard her after so long away, that YG realised just how comical his mother was. He feels a mild awkwardness in her presence, but it is not the shyness he feels when with others - it's a struggle not to smirk. The odour of the room, the largely random outcome of what Mrs. Grimwold has been cooking, happens to be bearable today.*
Mrs. Grimwold: ''Ow are you, son? I've been lonely 'ere, with only your father for company. I've missed you. So where the 'ell 'ave you been? No point 'avin' you bloomin' well livin' 'ere if you're out all the time. Eh, dearie?'
*The ogre's mother descends into a cackle. To YG, it seems more forced than it has done before, and gives him no indication of her mood. Talking quickly so she can't interrupt, he tells her a bit about what he's been up to since he was last home: the time he's spent with Robin, and the meeting with Hordriss. Mrs. G. makes a small grunt when YG mentions the mage - again, hard for YG to decipher the sentiment.*
And, I'm afraid, I haven't seen any sign of Festus.
Mrs. Grimwold: 'What? My poor Festus! You useless-'
But here's some money. F-for housekeeping.
*Blow softened.*
*Mrs. G. tells YG that his father is out searching for Festus around Vanburn, which YG recalls as being, quite literally, one of Grimwold's former stomping grounds (except, of course, for the quicksand). It seems clear that Mrs. G. will bear little more than a facade of her old self, until her pet is recovered; and YG knows that he should make more of a concerted effort to locate the creature. It's just too easy to get distracted sometimes.*
Mrs. Grimwold: 'There's something I've been meanin' to tell you... but I've forgotten. It'll come back to me.'
*Parent and child make small talk for a while. YG feels some of his filial affection returning. He's aware that in many ways, he was an unconventional son, and it wouldn't have seemed right for him to have anyone other than an unconventional mother. And there is something comforting about being home, with the chaos of the outside world out of sight, and a wealth of positive memories waiting to be tapped in this closed-off environment, where they cannot drain away. YG decides to retire to his room, where he knows that a certain crayon is waiting for him - acquired by his father during the Dungeon days, and gifted to YG, in a unusual yet touching moment of father-son acceptance - and write a little of old times. He wonders if there's really anything left for him to say about his past; but maybe he can do what he believes that many of those he has met are more than capable of: reinterpreting the familiar as something fresh. He moves toward his room.*
Mrs. Grimwold: 'Oh, I remember what I 'ad to tell you now! You've got a brother you never knew about. 'Ow's that for a surprise, eh, dearie?'
*The ogres' mother cackles.*
[OOC: To be continued...]
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Post by Young Grimwold on Mar 11, 2005 17:04:06 GMT
*YG turns around slowly. He wants, more than he has for a long time, to rip someone's head off. But he doesn't know whose. In fact, he does; he knows exactly whose; and for the brazen contempt she's shown him, maybe she deserves it.
He remembers the secret awe he felt whenever his father was in a rage, and the sardonic glee he experienced as he listened to his mother's vain protests - she married him, the stupid crone, and anyone who decides to get close to an ogre deserves what they get. What was she complaining about? That's all she's ever been - a putrid little manipulator, twisting the innocent people around her and clawing a smug sense of whinnying triumph under those filthy rags for herself. Is it not enough to be kicked around by Fate, or whatever bastard force controls the world, without being messed about by one of the people closest to you? YG feels as if any control over his life has suddenly been pulled away, likethe final sharp suck of bathwater being drained down a plughole. No control. Need control. YG stares at his mother for a moment, strolls over to her cauldron - what a pathetic affectation of witchery - and swings at it with his club.
A brackish concoction of reptile innards and other ingredients splashes onto the floor. As the last of it drips out, YG smashes the cauldron again, creating a clang that he hopes his mother might mistake for her death knell. At the same time as detesting her, YG is furious with himself for letting his ogre side out so petulantly - one thing he can't blame this particular parent for, and that makes him all the more frustrated. He can hear himself grunting, and listens with enthralled disgust. He doesn't look at her, not wanting to take the risk of seeing her appearing unfazed, as she probably was. After all, his father's tempers were always better than his, and she'd endured years of those. He was inferior. And yet he deserved to know.*
Why...
Mrs. Grimwold: 'Why didn't I tell you?'
*She said it for him. Interrupting, controlling yet again. Blast her.*
Mrs. Grimwold: 'I forgot, dearie. I meant to tell you, when you were old enough; but I've 'ad so much on my plate, what with Festus running off, and the move out 'ere, and your dad's midlife crisis. My memory ain't what it used to be. Tell you what: I'll tell you what I can remember, and we'll find someone from the old days to fill in the gaps. How about that wizard, whatsisname...'
Merlin?
Mrs. Grimwold: 'No, the one you mentioned. The Confuser chap. We'll find 'im.'
Why not now?
Mrs. Grimwold: 'I don't know 'is summoning name, I'm afraid. I'll ask around. Better make some more soup. And...'
*YG didn't need to wait, and he wouldn't. He wanted answers; and not only was this batty old hag woefully ill-equipped to provide them, but some kind of discipline was needed, a mediator between farce and force. YG took a deep breath.*
Splendour...
*Splendour? How ironic. Degraded and disrespected. Why did he even bother, if it always ended with him being dragged back into the pit of his own ogreish rage?*
...SPLENDOUR...
*Yet again, he was looking for answers in a world of taunts and questions. The fool. But... a brother. Another ogre. Someone who'd know; someone to share it with. From the fetid dephs of angst, a hope, a chance at something more. And the knowledge of it was only one more calling word away. Within his grasp, and for this moment at least, in his control. Three, two, one...*
...SPLENDOUR!
[OOC: To be continued...]
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Mar 16, 2005 2:15:43 GMT
*A pause; a suitably ostentatious flash; and a familiar mage [ModNote: last seen here] appears in the chamber. Noting instantly how dank and gloomy it is, and feeling the earlier spillage underfoot, Hordriss is far from pleased. While once he gave out his calling name to almost anyone who caught his interest, these days he is far more selective in issuing it. And yet still he gets disturbed, torn from his study like a sword from its scabbard, to be put to goodness-knows-what employment. To think he once approved of the calling name scheme - now it makes him feel powerless, as if his heights of magic and elegance, indeed his very splendour, have only the worth of a single thrice-spoken word.* What is the meaning of this? One does not take kindly to being disturbed in the midst of important research, and furthermore... *Hordriss spots Young Grimwold. While still furious, he realises that a loss of temper is wasted on an ogre, even one as restrained as YG, and he calms himself a little.* Master Grimwold. It must have been you who summoned me, but for what purpose? Tell me. *Hordriss hears a cough, and turns to see the other figure who is present. Although it's been many years, it takes him only a moment to recall her. Recoiling slightly - too slightly for the Grimwolds to detect - he mutters her name.* Enid... [OOC: To be continued...]
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Post by Young Grimwold on May 22, 2005 1:24:53 GMT
Mrs. Grimwold: 'Enid? We're not on those terms any more, dearie!' *Young Grimwold shudders inwardly at the thought of what that might mean. So much about his mother defies explanation, and he's often thought that that is for the best. Although it's now obvious to him that Hordriss and his mother were associates back when the Grimwolds lived in the Dungeon, he'd never pictured them together. And bearing in mind the ambiguity of his mother's quip, he avoids doing so now. Instead he focuses on Hordriss, standing tall despite his squalid surroundings. He thinks of what Hordriss told him at their last meeting, about attacking the daemonic boy during the Battle Royale, and giving in to violence. Whilst he is obviously a learned man, YG feels that in light of that, Hordriss must now have an enhanced empathy with the struggle that he constantly faces against his ogrish impulses: savant versus savage. He realises that he's not ashamed to have the mage in his family home, but comforted. Yet not without guilt about how this has happened.* Welcome. I must apologise for dragging you out here. I... I know you gave your calling name to Robin, rather than to me. My mother suggested it, and so I found myself... calling upon you. And while I am sorry for the disorentiation of being summoned, I don't want to patronise you... about what's going on. She's just told me that I have a brother. [OOC: To be continued...]
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Jul 1, 2005 2:03:40 GMT
*Hordriss' face flickers with consternation, like a man who hears the thunder rumbling and knows he won't have made it back indoors before the rain falls. Within a vast mind holding centuries of untold experience, memories rush upward, stirring emotions en route, raising responsiblities past and present. For a while, Hordriss bears this process with silence. But he does not forget that in his current company, reticence cannot and should not prevail. Trusting that his authority will be respected, at least by YG, he begins to speak slowly.*
Then you wish to know more?
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jul 1, 2005 2:05:04 GMT
I have to know more.
Please.
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Jul 2, 2005 1:30:44 GMT
Very well. But one must request that you keep your composure throughout. This tale may not be easy to listen to, but nor is it easy to relate. *Hordriss moves his gaze from Young Grimwold to Mrs. Grimwold, then drops it to the floor.* That is why it has been kept hidden for so long. *Hordriss is not in the most comfortable of surroundings for the gravity and pathos he is about to divulge. It is a far cry from the warm room at the Wolf's Howl Inn where he last imparted intimate facts to YG and others, revealing more of his tortuous history than he ever thought he would to people he had known for so short a time; and from his tidy and well-lit study, where he was working just moments earlier. He is most tempted to cast a spell or two to clean and illuminate the Grimwold homestead. And a seat of some kind, preferably with a dry cushion, would not go amiss. But he knows that there is nothing that can truly make the telling of this tale a gentler experience; and he fears that any perceived procrastination would...*
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jul 2, 2005 1:31:37 GMT
Mrs. Grimwold: 'Geddon with it! And none of that one-word-a-minute speaking - this ain't the bloomin' theatre! *Switching to dulcet* Is it, dearie?'
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Jul 2, 2005 1:32:51 GMT
*...not be welcomed. Suddenly Hordriss is glad of the meagre lighting. Not knowing quite how it all will end, he begins.*
Master Grimwold, as you are now no doubt aware, your mother and one had a close association many years ago. One won't go into details, as it is somewhat tangential, but...
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jul 2, 2005 1:33:52 GMT
Mrs. Grimwold: 'Let's just say, I did 'im some big favours, and 'e owed me some back!'
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Jul 2, 2005 14:48:08 GMT
Indeed.
*Hordriss had forgotten how incorrigibly infuriating the woman could be. Such dichotomy in one person, confounding yet ever fascinating... he cannot help hoping that she will shut up, yet tells himself that it is her prerogative to contribute to the narrative. He refocuses his attention on YG.*
In fact, it was I who brought your mother and Mr. Grimwold together.
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jul 2, 2005 14:50:40 GMT
*YG isn't sure what to say. Should he be grateful? Knowing there is more to hear, he keeps quiet, hoping that Hordriss will anticipate his burning question: why an ogre and not someone else?*
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Post by Hordriss de Confuseur on Jul 2, 2005 14:51:28 GMT
As you may recall, one had as one's companion the Oracle of Confusion. It had uttered a prophecy about your mother which, when it became known, made it difficult for her to find a partner.
*Hordriss turns quickly to Mrs. Grimwold.*
My apologies, Madam. One must recount what is relevant, but one will be discreet.
You know, Master Grimwold, of the omen of Thetis?
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Post by Young Grimwold on Jul 2, 2005 16:27:21 GMT
*YG recalls the mythology of the sea-nymph as best he can. Thetis caught the attention of the lustful Zeus, king of the Ancient Greek gods; until he was told, perhaps by the Oracle of Confusion herself, that a cruel article of Fate hung over Thetis: any son she gave birth to would outshine his father. To Zeus, this meant that if he coupled with her, he would end up with a son powerful enough to depose him from his throne. So he arranged a mortal husband for Thetis.*
*YG looks at Hordriss and nods intently. As he does so, he begins to feel the beginning of a rush of understanding, like the inaugural raindrops of a stormy downpour. But again, he keeps quiet, knowing he cannot finish the jigsaw while others still hold so many of the pieces.*
*Finding Hordriss' tact a little too ambiguously erudite, Mrs. G pipes up. As ever, her voice lurches between disparate emotions yet never quite loses its histrionic pitch. She makes it difficult to trust and sympathise, but impossible not to listen.*
Mrs. Grimwold: 'It weren't easy for me, dearie. All I wanted was to settle down, but this prophecy made men run a mile. Then 'Ordriss found me someone who didn't care about destiny, so long as 'e 'ad someone to cook for 'im - my Grimwold! The day I could stop being Enid Goody and become Mrs. anything was one of the 'appiest of my life.'
*YG and Hordriss had winced in unison at the dropped H of the latter's name.*
Mrs. Grimwold: 'So, we got ready to start a family. But we couldn't. It just weren't 'appening. We tried...'
*YG interrupts.*
Please. No details.
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