#displeased with how noisy the last one is but it's the best option -_-

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A Selection of Letters Related to Tamett Lockridge, 1903

I do not have a story for Tamett’s birthday. Not exactly. I had intended to write Tamett and Josiah’s first meeting, but there were a lot of POV and pacing and general having-a-point-ness issues with that one that will require far more time to fix. Instead, this is another set of annotated letters, this time with 100% less plot. Nothing happens. It just sort of ends. It’s more character-related nonsense than anything else (which is the only reason I could finish it). 

Tumblr doesn’t have the best option for formatting footnotes, sorry; if you are comfortable with my emailing you a Word document, which will be easier to read, please message me.

This is set when Tamett is seven (nearly eight) and has just been hired as Josiah’s companion.

I. Tamett Lockridge to his family

23 January 1903

Dear Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille,[1]

how are you? I am well. I am at the palace now. It is as big as ten of our house.[2] It has to be big because lots and lots of people live here.[3] I don’t have to see most of them, and I like that.

I have my own room.[4] It has a long window with bars[5] and a box thing on the wall that rings when they want me.[6] It doesn’t anymore because I opened it up and took out the bell. I can use it on my bicycle.[7]

Uncle Tamett says hello. He lives here now but I don’t know where.[8] The food is good[9] and I do lots of lessons.[10] I haven’t seen the King again.[11] Everyone wears black but I don’t have to, so ha.[12]

Your loving son

Tamett

PS: His Royal Highness is a beast and I don’t want to stay here anymore.[13]

II. Elina Lockridge to her son Tamett

30 January 1903

My dear Tamett,

I hope you are doing well and being good for Lord Protzmann. Your uncle Tamett says he is the one looking after you. [14] Is there anyone else taking care of you? His Royal Highness’s governess, perhaps?[15]

The palace sounds very grand indeed, and we’re proud of you for getting the chance to live there. Ask your uncle the next time you see him to take a photograph of you in your new room. We would love to see it.[16] I hope you’re remembering to make your bed, the way I showed you, and tidy up at the end of the day. We don’t want the palace staff to think that we live like pigs here in Norriber![17] I know you will do your best to represent us well. Yes, the bars on the window are not like home, but they’re there to keep you safe.[18] However, I am displeased that you took apart something that doesn’t belong to you. The annunciator (that’s what that box is called) may be in your room, but it is the property of the palace, and to take anything out of it is stealing. Do not use that bell on your bicycle. You need to put it back immediately and tell Lord Protzmann what you did so he can have the annunciator properly repaired.[19] Without the bell, His Royal Highness can’t let you know when he needs you, and that is your responsibility, to be there when he calls.[20] It will make him very sad if his companion doesn’t want to keep him company.

He is probably already very sad.[21] We talked before you left about how the Queen went to heaven last month, so everyone is in mourning right now. The Queen was his mama, and he must miss her a great deal. Wouldn’t you be sad too? I need you to remember how he must feel and be thoughtful.[22] He might not be ready yet to play anything too noisy with you, but he will in time. Just be patient. I know you can. However, we do not show patience by calling someone “a beast.” I’m sure His Royal Highness is a perfectly nice little boy.[23]

Your uncle Tamett says he’s been busy, but he’ll try to come and see you at least once a week.[24] Please give him our love. We miss you so much, but we know that you’re where you ought to be and we hope to see you again soon. Don’t forget to brush your teeth and comb your hair. I love you. Your papa and sisters send their love too.

Your loving 

Mama

III. Emenor Lockridge to her brother Tamett

30 January 1903

Dear Tam,

Come back home right now because I miss you so much and it’s not the same without you[25] and your chair at the table without you in it makes me wants to cry every time I look at it and Lovisa and I tried to go sledding yesterday but we fell into the snow because you weren’t there to steer it right[26] and now I won’t sled at all without you and Lovi is cross because she wants to anyway but I said no and went upstairs to practice[27] and then my violin sounded sad too because it misses you almost as much as I do so I made up a piece called I Miss Tamett And The Prince Can’t Have Him[28] and I am so sooo SOOOOOOOO cross with the Prince because he’s beastly to you and I want to go there and tell him he’s horrid and needs to be nice to you and if he won’t I’ll slap him.[29] We had sponge cake at dinner. It was nice. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you a million times, so lots of love and hugs from 

Your sister

Emenor Klariesa Lockridge

XXXXXXXXXX

IV. Tamett to Emenor

3 February 1903

Dear Em,

How are you? I am well. I wish you were here too. Lessons are boring and the tutors say I’m bad at them.[30] They gave me a violin.[31] It sounds like a chicken squawking. His Royal Highness doesn’t like it. He plays too but he’s not as good as you are. I told him that and he said that’s a lie and he plays much better than any girl. Then I went back to my room.

I found a bug. It looks like a cricket but I don’t know. I put it in my desk drawer for later.[32] Do you want one?[33] I think there are more.

Your brother

Tamett

V. Lord Protzmann to Tamett’s parents

4 February 1903

Dear Mr and Mrs Lockridge, 

Here in the King’s household, we do not take correspondence lightly. We carefully monitor incoming letters to ensure that they pose no danger and cause no distress to the royal family, particularly during this period of mourning.[34] This caution extends not only to the royal family but to those close to them, in positions in which the slightest unseemly mindset can have detrimental effects on the exalted personages whom they serve. As companion to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Josiah, your son Tamett is among those whose correspondence we examine, and a few recent letters have given us cause for concern.

A letter of yours of the 23rd of January contains a passage in which you heavily imply that your son has referred to His Royal Highness by the childish but opprobrious epithet of “beast.” You rightly reprimanded him for this, but it would seem that your son’s original letter containing the offensive word escaped our notice.[35] Otherwise it would never have been allowed to reach you. 

I apologize for this oversight and commend you for your response, but a letter from your daughter Emenor of the 30th of January has caused us of the royal household especial alarm and displeasure. In this letter to your son, she explicitly expresses a wish to commit violence against His Royal Highness. I shall charitably assume that this letter escaped your notice as your son’s did ours, for surely you would not have permitted her to send such a letter had you known what atrocities it contained.[36]

I advise you in future to take the utmost care in monitoring your family’s correspondence with Tamett, as we shall with his to you. Since this is the first offense, it will not be reported to the King, but repeated failure to resolve this problem will require intervention from my superiors. We appreciate your son’s presence in the royal household, and it would certainly be a shame if he had to leave us abruptly.[37]

The royal household extends its best wishes for your health and happiness. Dominion for Lienne![38]

Cordially yours

Lord Protzmann

Steward of the Household of His Majesty’s Children

VI. Tamett to his family

5 February 1903

Dear Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille,

I am sorry I wrote bad things in my last letter. I did not mean them. I won’t do it again. I like it here at the palace and everyone is nice. Lord Protzmann says I am very grateful.

Someone said we’re going to learn how to ride soon.[39] I will like that. I have six crickets now in my desk drawer.[40] It was sunny yesterday and we went outdoors. I saw a deer in the park and a dead bird. It was fun. The royal family has a baby. It’s a boy and his name is Miki.[41] He tried to pull my finger off. When are we getting our baby?[42] How are you? I am well. I’m sorry. I forgot to say it at the beginning.

Your loving son

Tamett

VII. Edvin Lockridge to his son Tamett

7 February 1903

Dear Tamett,

We received a letter from Lord Protzmann about your recent letter, and I know he must have already spoken to you, but I wanted to further remind you that we will not put up with any bad behavior from you. You are the representative of Norriber to His Royal Highness (as I hope to represent our region someday), [43] and everything you do reflects on us. He must not think that Norriber is rebellious and unkind but cooperative and pleasant.[44]  Even if you never criticize him to his face, the thoughts are still there, and they will come out in how you behave, without your meaning them to.

Please, son, make a friend of His Royal Highness. Perhaps you got off on the wrong foot, but it’s not too late. Find something that you have in common. Do something amusing together. Commiserate with him in his grief.[45] There are dozens of ways you can appeal to him. Remember, the royal household has engaged you as his companion, meaning that he wants you to be there. He is looking for a friend, whatever your first impressions may have been. Don’t take that away from him. It’s the best thing for him and for all of us. We’re counting on you, and so is he.

Note the new stamp on the envelope![46] I thought you would like it. Take care of yourself.

Your affectionate

Father

VIII. Emenor to Tamett

8 February 1903

Dear Tam,

[Extensive illegible crossed-out passage.][47]

I mean I wish I were there so I could hear your chicken violin and laugh and laugh. I’m learning “To Engella”[48] now. What are you playing? How long has His Royal Highness been playing?[49] Tell him I started violin when I was six.

[Extensive illegible crossed-out passage.][50]

Mama says that I might be a companion too. Except I won’t go to the palace, just to Aunt Klariesa.[51] I don’t want to go. She says my practicing gives her a headache and little girls shouldn’t whistle. But Papa says she will pay us if I go. I want to buy new music with my pocket money when I get it,[52] and I will whistle it whenever I see Aunt Klariesa. Why don’t nice people want companions?

I hope they let you come home for your birthday. If I have to miss you any more I will fall to pieces. Lots of love and hugs from

Your favorite sister

Emenor not-Klariesa Lockridge

IX. Crown Prince Josiah of Lienne to his father King Odren VII

18 February 1903

Dear Papa,

I hope you are well. I hope you will come to breakfast soon. It has been six days, seven hours, and forty-one minutes since last time.[53] But it will be even longer when you read this.

I do not want a companion.[54] He is not useful. My tutors say his schoolwork is shameful. I do not think he knows anything at all. He is not helping me because he distracts me from lessons with his ignorance.[55] He is not my friend, and I do not want him here. I do not need him. I will be very unhappy if you do not send him away. And I am already very unhappy. You know why.[56]

Please come to see me again. We can discuss this matter of business more.

Your obedient son

Josiah

X. Oswin Fertig, secretary to Odren VII, to Josiah

19 February 1903

To His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Josiah

His Majesty’s business is of such great magnitude that he cannot possibly spare time for every trifling letter that crosses his desk.[57] If Your Royal Highness has a concern about matters related to the royal household, you may address this concern to Lord Protzmann. Your Royal Highness is well aware of the protocol.[58] Furthermore, although in the past your youth excused the use of familiar endearments when addressing His Majesty, Your Royal Highness will remember that you are no longer in the nursery and are now of an age to refer to His Majesty by his proper familial title.[59] Any improperly addressed correspondence in future will not reach His Majesty. I remain

Yours respectfully

Oswin Fertig[60]

Secretary to His Majesty King Odren VII

XI. Princess Ayra of Lienne to Edvin and Elina

2 March 1903

Dear Mr and Mrs Lockridge,

It has come to my attention that you are concerned about the well-being of your son Tamett, who has joined our household as companion to my brother the Crown Prince.[61] Although Lord Protzmann has no doubt been keeping you informed about his doings, I believed it proper to address you personally, as my brother’s mother would have, were she here.[62] (May she rest in peace.)[63]

Your son has been in the care of the same nurse-governess who attends my brother, Karnella Arndt, a respectable woman who has been with the royal family since my own birth.[64] I can personally vouch for her character and her attentiveness. She has been ensuring that he is washed, dressed, fed, and supervised. Tamett takes his meals with my brother and sister and sometimes me, and his leisure time is primarily spent in our company.[65] His conduct is satisfactory. He has helped me wind wool, listened while I read to the children, and tidied playthings at the end of each day.[66] My sister Ateva in particular has gone out of her way to make him feel included;[67] she has undertaken some small mending tasks on his behalf and appears to enjoy amusing him as much as she is able. Tamett appears to be in good health and has made no objection to living among us of which I am aware.[68] We will continue to ensure that he writes to you at least once a week. If the King my father and Lord Protzmann approve and arrangements are made well in advance, you both are welcome to call on him.[69] Although I will likely be otherwise occupied, my sister Ateva will be happy to receive you.[70]

Our family is grateful to you for giving us your son in the best interests of Lienne. My brother has benefited from his companion’s presence, and I give you my word that he will regard Tamett with increasing esteem as the acquaintance continues.[71]

If you have any further concerns regarding Tamett, please address them to Lord Protzmann or Karnella Arndt, who can best address such matters.[72] I extend you both my best wishes for your continued health and well-being and remain

Yours cordially,

Ayra, Princess of Lienne

XII. Tamett to Emenor

5 March 1903

Dear Em,

How are you? I am well. It isn’t so bad here now. Professor Ebner only scolded me once today. His Royal Highness let me play with his trains. He says he doesn’t want them anymore now.[73] Ateva let me hold Miki again. I can make him laugh.[74] His Royal Highness doesn’t laugh. When he hears me he says to shut up. So I do. He likes that. I think we might be friends now.[75] I miss you. I hope I can come home soon.[76] I will ask the caterpillar man.[77]

With love from 

Your brother

Tamett

[Drawing that appears to depict a large insect waving one leg.]

[1] Papa, Mama, Emenor, Lovisa, and Cille: Zella Lockridge had not been born yet and would join the family later that year.

[2] It is as big as ten of our house: Königshaus Palace, the official residence of the kings of Lienne, contains approximately 1,330,000 square feet and has 853 rooms. Tamett’s comparison of it to his own home is over-generous to the Lockridge residence, which contained a mere 6,000 square feet and 15 rooms.

[3] lots and lots of people live here: The occupancy of the palace in 1903 was around 500, including the royal family, their staff and retainers, and the members of the court.

[4] I have my own room: Tamett’s bedroom was located on the second (first) floor of the wing of the palace occupied by the royal family, in a small corridor near Josiah’s suite, neighboring rooms occupied by Lord Protzmann and Josiah’s tutors. The room had been used previously as accommodation for royal children’s retainers and as a bedroom for younger members of particularly large broods of royal children. It contained a bed, a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a desk and chair, and a washstand. Tamett continued to use this room throughout his entire stint as Josiah’s companion, even as a young man.

[5] a long window with bars: The windows of all rooms on the children’s floor of this wing had bars as a safety precaution, including rooms occupied by adults.

[6] a box thing on the wall that rings when they want me: The annunciator system was installed in Königshaus in the late eighteenth century and updated to reflect technological developments later in the nineteenth century. The annunciator in Tamett’s room had been installed specifically for his arrival and connected to bells in every one of Josiah’s rooms, as well as the main rooms of the royal children’s floor.

[7] my bicycle: Lord Protzmann granted permission for Tamett to bring his bicycle with him when he took up residence in Königshaus. This was less for Tamett’s personal convenience than in the hope that Josiah would develop more of an interest in bicycling as a result of his companion’s influence. A photograph exists of both boys cycling together, but the stiffness of their posture suggests that the photograph was staged for the benefit of Odren, to whom it is inscribed.

[8] Uncle Tamett says hello. He lives here now but I don’t know where: Tamett Lockridge’s uncle, Tamett Kassback, Duke of Reierwardt, officially resided in Norriber near the Lockridge home, but after his arranging for the employment of Tamett, he was granted a full-time position at court, which he maintained for the next three years. He divided his time between the palace and his own home, with more time spent at the former. His apartments were located in the wing opposite that in which Tamett lived, with the palace’s central section in between. These were official rooms forbidden to Tamett, making it difficult for him to visit his uncle without official permission.

[9] The food is good: Among the cultural distinctions of Lienne that Odren VII took pride in promoting was its cuisine. To reflect the supremacy of Liennese cooking, he employed twenty chefs to cook for his household. These men, leading representatives of their field, were led by Egmund Simmoner, innovator of numerous recipes created in the king’s honor or to the specifications of the royal family’s preferences. The royal children’s food was of the same quality as their parents’, with even simple dishes being given Simmoner’s special creative touch.

[10] I do lots of lessons: Josiah and Tamett began lessons at seven-thirty in the morning and concluded their activities at five o’clock in the afternoon, with a few brief breaks in between for lunch and an afternoon walk. Most schools in Lienne at this time began lessons at eight-thirty and ended at three o’clock.

[11] I haven’t seen the King again: The Duke of Reierwardt introduced Tamett to Odren and the royal children for official approval upon Tamett’s arrival. The visit was brief; as soon as Odren was satisfied that Tamett was a suitable companion for his son, he took his leave and allowed Lord Protzmann to handle the details from there. This was a surprise to the household, given Odren’s usual practice of personally overseeing most details of his children’s lives, but in the aftermath of Queen Nyella’s death, he retreated from many such duties.

[12] Everyone wears black but I don’t have to, so ha: The court observed a six-month period of mourning after the death of Nyella. Although a widower could end his mourning and re-enter society after three months (as had been done after Queen Liane’s death), Odren observed two years of mourning for Nyella and insisted that his children do the same.

[13] His Royal Highness is a beast and I don’t want to stay here anymore: According to the royal children’s nurse-governess Karnella Arndt in her memoir Thirty Years at the Liennese Court, Josiah spent most of the first week after Tamett’s arrival refusing to speak or interact with him more than necessary, despite a brief moment of connection between them at their first meeting.

[14] Lord Protzmann. Your uncle Tamett says he is the one looking after you: Lord Protzmann had been the head of the household of the royal children of Lienne since 1885. He had handled the employment of Tamett and would serve as the boy’s official supervisor.

[15] His Royal Highness’s governess, perhaps?: In a letter to her sister-in-law Klariesa, dated 28 January 1903, Elina expounds further on her concerns: “After all, he is not yet eight, and he still needs a woman to look after him. I had been assured that he would be treated as one of the royal family’s own, but with the passing of Her Majesty (God rest her soul), I fear that those children will be allowed to run wild, and Tamett will be among them and probably the wildest of all.”

[16] Ask your uncle the next time you see him to take a photograph of you in your new room. We would love to see it: A photograph from the Kassbeck family album, dated February 1903, depicts Tamett standing in the middle of his palace bedroom with one arm stiffly extended as if to show off the place. The room appears to be in a state of some disorder, and the bedclothes are askew.

[17] We don’t want the palace staff to think that we live like pigs here in Norriber!: Tidiness is an important value in Liennese culture; Liennese children are taught from their earliest years that “we must all improve our own little corner of the world.” The Norriberrian culture was a bit more relaxed in its approach to life, which over time became twisted into a Liennese stereotype of Norriberrians as untidy at best and filthy at worst. Although the young Tamett would not have been aware of this stereotype, Elina certainly was, and admonitions such as this one frequently appear in her letters to her son.

[18] Yes, the bars on the window are not like home, but they’re there to keep you safe: Norriberrian windows tend to be fairly small and placed higher on the walls than Liennese windows, making bars on children’s windows less necessary.

[19] You need to put it back immediately and tell Lord Protzmann what you did so he can have the annunciator properly repaired: Household maintenance reports indicated that Tamett did indeed inform Protzmann of the damage to the annunciator, although the report seems to suggest that it was the result of accidental damage rather than tampering.

[20] Without the bell, His Royal Highness can’t let you know when he needs you, and that is your responsibility, to be there when he calls: As Josiah grew used to Tamett, the bell was used with increasing frequency. A letter from Tamett to his parents, dated 12 December 1907, indicates that Josiah once rang the bell for him fifty-nine times within a period of twenty-four hours, including at night. The service required was typically small menial tasks.

[21] He is probably already very sad: The newspaper covered Nyella’s death extensively, with numerous large photographs from her funeral and other observances. A famous photograph made the front cover of the Golden Eagle, depicting seven-year-old Josiah in deep mourning, walking behind his mother’s casket and holding his sister Ayra’s hand. His expression is that of an adult holding back tears, and this noble stoicism impressed the Liennese, who were prouder than ever of their brave young Crown Prince. Elina likely had this image in mind when she discussed Josiah’s grief with Tamett.

[22] I need you to remember how he must feel and be thoughtful: There are multiple anecdotes of the young Tamett’s penchant for bluntness, although he does not seem to have had malicious intent. Elina relates in a 7 March 1903 letter to Klariesa how Tamett reportedly informed Josiah not only that their mothers had been at school together but that Elina had thought Nyella was “rather silly.” This caused considerable uproar and the need for Tamett to formally apologize after a lengthy lecture on the importance of tact.

[23] I’m sure His Royal Highness is a perfectly nice little boy: By the age of seven, Josiah had not made many public appearances. Carefully chosen photographs were commonly published, depicting him engaging in appropriate princely behavior (saluting officers, greeting dignitaries, bestowing charitable gifts, etc.) or displayed prominently in family groupings featured on postcards, and occasionally press releases would announce his commendable progress in his studies or report on his various talents. Such would have been the only impression of him that Elina and other members of the public would have had.

[24] he’ll try to come and see you at least once a week: Household records indicate that Reierwardt during his residence at court visited his nephew no more frequently than once a month.

[25] I miss you so much and it’s not the same without you: Tamett at this point had been absent from home for about a week.

[26] Lovisa and I tried to go sledding yesterday but we fell into the snow because you weren’t there to steer it right: A letter of Elina’s to Klariesa from this same date provides a less sensational account: “The girls went sledding this afternoon at my insistence. The noise was becoming more than I could bear. They seemed to be in better spirits when they returned, as was I.”

[27] I said no and went upstairs to practice: Emenor was taught from 1900 to 1907 by Arild Vester, a local musician who supplemented his income by teaching children the basics of the violin. Most of his students were not interested in making a serious study of the instrument, and he was taken aback by Emenor’s gift and drive, which eventually proved to be more than he could handle.

[28] a piece called I Miss Tamett And The Prince Can’t Have Him: Emenor claimed in later years in a letter to Tamett that she had worked the original melody of this composition briefly into one of her own concertos. Given the tone of her letter, it is believed that she was joking.

[29] if he won’t I’ll slap him: In early childhood, Tamett was observed by members of his family to be a particularly resigned child who seldom tried to defend himself when mistreated by older children. This bothered Emenor, and though only a year his senior, she made a point of boldly confronting anyone who dared torment her brother, including some adults.

[30] Lessons are boring and the tutors say I’m bad at them: Tamett’s earliest school report from his time at the palace sums up his conduct as “inattentive and idle.” Lessons were given at the academic level to which Josiah had attained, and Tamett was expected to keep up with little assistance since Josiah tended to become impatient and fractious when forced to wait while his tutors re-explained concepts to Tamett.

[31] They gave me a violin: Music lessons were a crucial part of a complete Liennese education, and there was never any question of whether the new companion might not have the aptitude for it. Tamett was assigned the violin because the household had an extra one on hand and because he could then easily share a violin tutor with Josiah.

[32] I put it in my desk drawer for later: Tamett’s insect collections raised frequent complaints from the staff who cleaned his room. There were a few incidents of maids surprised into screaming at the sight of dozens of insects inside drawers and containers.

[33] Do you want one?: No evidence exists that Tamett ever succeeded in sending Emenor an insect of any kind through the post.

[34] We carefully monitor incoming letters to ensure that they pose no danger and cause no distress to the royal family, particularly during this period of mourning: Lord Protzmann and Count Korbinian, the head of the King’s personal household, maintained a staff of letter monitors, numbering eleven in 1903. These workers were sworn to secrecy regarding the contents of the letters they read and could be prosecuted for violating this trust. In 1904, one such staff member was arrested and imprisoned for thirty-five years for selling the contents of one of Odren’s letters to a disreputable newspaper.

[35] it would seem that your son’s original letter containing the offensive word escaped our notice: Tamett’s letter escaped the notice of the monitors because he had given it to Reierwardt to post inside one of his letters, and the Duke’s letters were not under surveillance at that time. Reierwardt had not bothered to read the letter either.

[36] surely you would not have permitted her to send such a letter had you known what atrocities it contained: Edvin Lockridge later explained to Protzmann that Emenor had written and posted the letter before anyone could even think of reading it.

[37] it would certainly be a shame if he had to leave us abruptly: Multiple instances of the summary dismissal of children brought in as temporary playmates (not official companions) before the engagement of Tamett are related in household records. In 1902 alone, Mertrad Mertz was sent away for “antagonizing” Josiah, Tillo Knopp for “failure to make himself agreeable,” and Kolrad Holzhof for “indecorous displays of emotion.”

[38] Dominion for Lienne!: Although this slogan was a common and acceptable expression of patriotic fervor in Lienne, when said to a Norriberrian it carried a more provocative meaning. Norriberrian nationalists considered it an offensive reminder of the subjugation of Norriber and of Liennese oppression.

[39] Someone said we’re going to learn how to ride soon: Josiah and Tamett’s equestrian studies were led by Odren’s Master of the Horse, Odmar Rasch. Both boys made reasonable progress, although greater attention was given to Josiah’s lessons. Nevertheless, Rasch was among the few instructors to find little fault with Tamett’s work.

[40] I have six crickets now in my desk drawer: According to household records, the racket caused by these crickets led to their discovery and disposal and a reprimand for Tamett.

[41] It’s a boy and his name is Miki: The infant Mikaiah was currently in the care of his chief nursemaid Judepha Farnforst, her assistant Wilessa Unruhe, and a wet nurse, Odilie Beck, who had been engaged in a hurry after Nyella’s death. (Nyella had made the unconventional choice to nurse the infant Josiah herself and planned to do the same with her second child.) Farnforst’s reports indicate that Mikaiah at this stage was a healthy, normal, easygoing baby. His sister Ateva regularly visited his nursery and brought him out to see the rest of the family as often as the nurses would allow her. Odren, Ayra, and Josiah showed much less interest, although Ateva’s album includes a series of photographs, presumably taken by her, of each member of the family holding Mikaiah, with varying degrees of detachment evident in their expressions.

[42] When are we getting our baby?: Tamett and his sisters had been informed several months before of an impending sibling. Zella was born Thursday, 2 April 1903.

[43] as I hope to represent our region someday: Since 1896, Edvin had conducted a series of unsuccessful campaigns for the office of his area’s representative in Norriber’s delegation to the Liennese court.

[44] He must not think that Norriber is rebellious and unkind but cooperative and pleasant: The Duke of Reierwardt, from whom Elina Lockridge was descended, had historically taken the stance of compliance with the Liennese occupation, and such was the official political position of the Lockridge household.

[45] Find something that you have in common. Do something amusing together. Commiserate with him in his grief: There is no evidence that any of these strategies were undertaken. Whether this was due to Tamett’s reticence or Josiah’s unreceptiveness or perhaps some of both is unclear.

[46] Note the new stamp on the envelope!: Edvin Lockridge was an avid philatelist. The stamp in question was one of a recently released set depicting King Odren in profile, with the image updated to reflect an idealization of his current appearance. (The previous style of stamp had been issued sixteen years before, when Odren was about thirty.)

[47] Extensive illegible crossed-out passage: Effort has been made to decipher the censored portions of this letter, but nothing is legible except what might be the word “say.” The erratic nature of the crossing-out suggests that eight-year-old Emenor did it herself, perhaps at the insistence of her parents.

[48] “To Engella”: This famous piece by composer Lukaz Boschbrandt is to this day commonly taught to beginning music students because of its simplicity and illustration of fundamental techniques. “Engella” was Enga Boschbrandt, Boschbrandt’s niece, who had asked him for “just a lullabye.”

[49] How long has His Royal Highness been playing?: At Odren’s insistence, Josiah began violin lessons at age three, around the same time he began studying the piano.

[50] Extensive illegible crossed-out passage: Some historians have made the words “I am better than” beneath the scribbles, but otherwise this section is lost to our understanding.

[51] Mama says that I might be a companion too. Except I won’t go to the palace, just to Aunt Klariesa: Emenor worked as her aunt Klariesa’s companion from April 1903 to August 1903. Klariesa did not find her suitable for the role; Emenor reportedly protested against what she believed was unfair treatment and did not take kindly to being at someone’s beck and call. Klariesa in turn objected to her niece’s constant indulgence in musicality. Several years later, the companion place was attempted again with Lovisa, who proved a better match for her aunt’s temperament.

[52] I want to buy new music with my pocket money when I get it: Emenor never received any of the salary paid to her as companion; the money went to her parents.

[53] I hope you will come to breakfast soon. It has been six days, seven hours, and forty-one minutes since last time: Odren’s habits, usually quite regular, underwent a change after Nyella’s death. He rose later in the morning, took nearly all meals in private, and left his suite much less often.

[54] I do not want a companion: The decision to provide Josiah with a companion had originally risen from his own wish for someone to play with and his mother’s observation that he needed the company of someone his own age.

[55] He is not helping me because he distracts me from lessons with his ignorance: Professor Helmold Ebner, Josiah’s head tutor, recounted in a 6 February 1903 letter to his brother how Josiah used to “correct the Norriberrian child’s peculiar pronunciations and turns of speech and enlighten him to the numerous facts that his previous education seems to have overlooked entirely.  He takes an admirable concern for his companion’s education and would make a fine master himself, were he not destined for a more exalted station. Once again, I cannot help thinking that His Royal Highness will grow to be a true Father of his people! What patience, what gracious condescension!”

[56] I will be very unhappy if you do not send him away. And I am already very unhappy. You know why: In the wake of his mother’s death, Josiah developed a habit of using this loss as a reason for his wishes to be granted. It proved effective, especially with his father.

[57] he cannot possibly spare time for every trifling letter that crosses his desk: There is no evidence that Odren ever read the above letter of Josiah’s. It was found not among his personal papers but among business correspondence, typically handled by his secretaries.

[58] Your Royal Highness is well aware of the protocol: Josiah had a long history of lodging complaints with Lord Protzmann whenever some detail of daily life displeased him. There are a series of terse letters in his childish handwriting reporting such things as “bad food,” “staff not doing their work,” and “too many sisters.”

[59] now of an age to refer to His Majesty by his proper familial title: The above letter from Josiah is the last written instance of his calling Odren “Papa.” Everything henceforth is addressed to “Father” or “Your Majesty.”

[60] Oswin Fertig: Odren employed three secretaries to handle his extensive correspondence and help manage his staggering workload. Oswin Fertig, aged about twenty-three in February 1903, was the youngest and most recently engaged of these men. He had acquired his place through a series of fortunate personal connections who recommended him for his superb attention to detail and protocol and for his efficiency. He developed a particular protectiveness of both the king’s limited time and his dignity and would go on to field numerous letters from Odren’s children with the intention of sparing his sovereign such petty complaints.

[61] It has come to my attention that you are concerned about the well-being of your son Tamett, who has joined our household as companion to my brother the Crown Prince: Ayra, in her new role as female head of the royal household, worked closely with Protzmann in managing household matters. (It was she who, seven years later, would uncover Protzmann’s ongoing embezzling.) She seems to have skimmed the Lockridges’ correspondence.

[62] address you personally, as my brother’s mother would have, were she here: Among Nyella’s papers was found a half-finished letter in her handwriting addressed to Tamett’s family that seems to have been an expression of reassurance and gratitude.

[63] May she rest in peace: A protocol expression. Ayra’s exact feelings regarding the death of her stepmother, with whom she did not get along, remain lost to history.

[64] Karnella Arndt, a respectable woman who has been with the royal family since my own birth: Karnella Arndt, daughter of a furniture maker from the town of Fairesfeld, had recently been widowed when Queen Liane engaged her as chief nursemaid to Princess Ayra in 1885. Arndt’s patience and gentleness endeared her to mother and daughter alike, and she continued with the royal family after the birth of Ateva and was promoted to nurse-governess as the princesses grew older. Although she never had direct care over Josiah or Mikaiah, she remained a fixture in the children’s household even after Odren’s marriage to Nyella.

[65] his leisure time is primarily spent in our company: After such incidents as the dismantling of the annunciator and the insect collections, Tamett was not allowed to spend much time unsupervised.

[66] He has helped me wind wool, listened while I read to the children, and tidied playthings at the end of each day: Ateva’s photograph album corroborates this claim. Candid shots of the family from 1903 on frequently include Tamett, usually sitting a little apart from the others.

[67] My sister Ateva in particular has gone out of her way to make him feel included: Ateva reportedly tried to engage Tamett in conversation whenever possible and loaned him a plush deer which had belonged to her as a child.

[68] Tamett appears to be in good health and has made no objection to living among us of which I am aware: There is little evidence that Ayra had spoken much to Tamett directly at this point. Tamett’s letters seldom mention her directly.

[69] If the King my father and Lord Protzmann approve and arrangements are made well in advance, you both are welcome to call on him: Tamett’s parents visited him at the palace approximately twice in his entire time as Josiah’s companion. The journey to the palace was a long, expensive one, and the process for approval of a visit was even lengthier and more bothersome. Unbeknownst to Tamett, Protzmann sometimes turned down the Lockridges’ requests to visit, fearing that too much association with them would make Tamett homesick.

[70] Although I will likely be otherwise occupied, my sister Ateva will be happy to receive you: Ayra’s responsibilities changed after Nyella’s death, when she was required to take on many of the duties usually regulated to the king’s consort. Her timetables reveal tightly planned days, with even less time for leisure than her brother. Thus social visits with people of less consequence were often delegated to Ateva.

[71] I give you my word that he will regard Tamett with increasing esteem as the acquaintance continues: A letter of complaint from Josiah to Odren around this time relates an incident in which Ayra attempted to scold her brother for some perceived ill-treatment of Tamett.

[72] If you have any further concerns regarding Tamett, please address them to Lord Protzmann or Karnella Arndt, who can best address such matters: No further correspondence between Ayra and Tamett’s parents exists.

[73] He says he doesn’t want them anymore now: Around this time, playthings disappear from photographs of Josiah, replaced by primarily books, instruments, or schoolwork. Lists of his birthday and Christmas gifts from 1903 no longer include toys.

[74] Ateva let me hold Miki again. I can make him laugh: An entire page of Ateva’s photograph album features shots of Tamett making faces at a smiling Mikaiah.

[75] I think we might be friends now: Also from Ateva’s album is a clearly posed photograph of the “friends”: Josiah seated on a stool with one hand laid patronizingly on the shoulder of Tamett, who kneels near his feet.

[76] I hope I can come home soon: Tamett was permitted to return home for a week around his birthday in April 1903. It was hoped that a brief absence would clear the air between him and Josiah.

[77] I will ask the caterpillar man: i.e Lord Protzmann, whose distinctive facial hair evidently reminded Tamett of caterpillars. It is likely that Tamett substituted the nickname here because he was unsure how to spell Protzmann’s name.

[gainerstories]

Fatter Exchange Student: Chapter 7

This is a community story with each chapter authored by a different writer in the gaining community. This chapter is penned by Feeder86.

Read prior chapters here.

Bleecker stood in the middle of the changing rooms feeling more powerful than he ever had in his entire life. Tonight’s training had been mostly tackling skills and he had gone all out. One guy stood to the side, rotating his aching shoulder, whilst another was stretching out his heavily bruised thigh; both of them having taken a huge blow from Bleecker out on the field.

“You alright, guys?” he asked; a sadistic grin wanting to spread across his face.

He might not be able to keep up with these guys when running, but with his added weight, he could throw them around like twigs.

In return, Bleecker received displeased frowns, making him chuckle a little to himself. He shrugged his shoulders, as if he were oblivious as to why they were so moody with him. He lifted off his sweat-drenched rugby shirt and caught the many little glances from one guy to the next, as they all took in the size of his uncovered, monstrously swollen stomach. It was getting bigger every week, and every one of them could see it. His chest was massive and muscular; stronger than he had ever been in his life. Yet he had grown a genuinely huge gut, fat-filled and bloated; creating a distinctive, ball-like appearance under his shirts.

Bleecker lived for these displays, willing everyone to look at his body and see how big he was growing. He pulled down his shorts and then his underwear, completely comfortable with his own nudity; enjoying making an exhibition of himself. And why not? He was the largest man on this team by almost one hundred pounds. He strutted to the showers, throwing his arms out that little bit more, to really emphasise the point. If this team was going to have an alpha male, he had no doubt that it would be him.

“Oh, you’re back!” smiled Sebastian, as Bleecker strutted in through the door that evening. “How was training?”

“Awesome!” Bleecker smirked, throwing his bag on the floor and heading straight to the refrigerator for his full-fat milk.

He lifted the gallon-sized container and began chugging it down, feeling his stomach bloat and swell. He swallowed and swallowed, trying to take as much as he could in one go. Then, with less than half remaining, he paused, lowering the milk and giving off a tremendous, roaring burp. Upon hearing it, Sebastian laughed and nodded in approval.

“That was a noisy one!” he smiled. “Someone was thirsty after rugby training, huh? I’ve never seen anyone take down as much milk as you can!”

Bleecker smirked confidently. Words could not describe how much he loved people commenting on his massive appetite and capacity. He could feel his crotch stirring almost instantly. But he loved it even more when it was Sebastian doing the commenting. Over the last few months that he had lived here, the handsome Greek boy had puffed up like a blowfish. That conventionally attractive Mediterranean body had altered beyond all recognition. The guy’s hips had packed on the blubber, ruining the previously slender butt and developing love handles that seemed to peek out of his shirts, no matter what he wore.

His face was soft and flabby looking, with massive fat-filled cheeks taking away his cheekbones, and a new double chin, masking what was otherwise a very handsome jawline. Sebastian’s chest now resembled two mounds of blubber, with pointed and almost sagging nipples straining against the material of his shirts. But below that was the best of all; a full and round pot belly that seemed to be swelling each and every day.

He wondered what Sebastian’s friends and family would say back at home. Would they be shocked and disappointed with him? Would they point the finger of blame at his new chubby boyfriend? Or, even better, would they accuse his monstrously-sized housemate for helping him to pick up bad eating habits? Damn! Even this thought was getting him hard!

Things were finally starting to return to normal between the pair of them after that rather awkward kiss. He didn’t know what had caused him to lose himself like that. Sebastian had tried to talk to him about it a few times afterwards, but Bleecker had shrugged him off; making a joke about being overly tired and a little hungover that morning. Felix had been around the apartment more and more over the last few weeks and hadn’t had it out with him for hitting on his boyfriend. There could be only one reason for that, Bleecker concluded; Sebastian hadn’t told him.

“Is Felix coming over tonight?” Bleecker asked.

“Not tonight,” Sebastian replied, shaking his head. “He has an assignment due tomorrow, so he’s working on that.”

Bleecker nodded, feeling both pleased and disappointed. It was nice to have Sebastian to himself, but he also loved seeing chubby Felix about the place. The thought of him and Sebastian having sex in the room next to him made him even more aroused than usual. He imagined their overfed chubby bodies touching each other, admiring their shapes and fresh fat. Not only that, but Felix seemed to be highly skilled at getting Sebastian to eat even more than usual, with the pair of them having incredibly greedy appetites; real, genuine gluttony that was only surpassed by his own. That was why both of them seemed to be packing on the fat at an ever increasing pace. Their clothes fitted awkwardly around their new flesh, unflatteringly hugging love-handles, back fat and moobs. Bleecker began to wonder what would become of them both if they both carried on this path; but that thought aroused him even more.

“Never mind,” Bleecker sighed. “I hope he gets it finished tonight.”

“I was going to order some pizza, if you wanted to join me?” Sebastian suddenly asked, as Bleecker began to walk away. His voice had a strange pleading tone to it, as if he were suddenly desperate to keep Bleecker from heading into his bedroom for the night.

Still clutching his gallon of milk and his stomach stubbornly full from the take-out he’d picked up on the way home, Bleecker hadn’t really intended to eat anything else tonight. But he’d made a promise to himself to never say no to food. How else was he going to keep upping his size and knocking those guys down on his team like bowling pins?  

“Sure,” he nodded nonchalantly. “I’m always up for some pizza.”

An hour later, Bleecker sat, puffing like a whale in the lounge. If there was one downside to all this extra weight, it was these damned humid nights where he simply couldn’t cool down. Before the pizzas had arrived, he’d taken himself for a cold shower and now sat there on the couch in only his underwear, still feeling the creeping sweat spread across his large body. He packed two pizzas into his stomach, feeling its heat firing up the furnace of his gut, and he took massive swigs of his milk, until even that had gone. It was so freaking hot tonight, he complained bitterly within his own head.

“Finished already?” asked Sebastian from the other chair.

“Yeah,” nodded Bleecker, feeling the stretch of his own stomach and noting with pride that Sebastian was over half way through his own second pizza. The guy’s appetite had really come along since he’d been here.

“Try stacking the slices on top of each other when you eat. It helps you to get it down faster,” he advised the chubby boy, like a professional. “Is yours the extra-cheese option?” he asked, taking a peek, and feeling surprised to feel his mouth watering at the sight and smell of it.

“Yeah, double cheese and the four meat feast pizza,” Sebastian nodded, sighing and slapping his round, fat little belly.

Bleecker chuckled and smirked. He could remember the time when he too would have found eating all that difficult.

“Good man,” he nodded, wishing that the guy would take his shirt off so that he could see how round and bloated all this would be making his stomach.

He wanted to get up and get some ice cream, but he felt too aroused. Going in just his underwear had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he felt completely trapped; unless he didn’t mind Sebastian seeing what all of this eating was doing for his crotch.

“Come on, Sebastian!” he coaxed from the sofa, as the chubby guy continued to try and push it down. “There aren’t many American guys who could eat all that, but I know you can do it!”

Smiling, Sebastian stacked his remaining slices and pushed them down. Bleecker could see that his roommate was uncomfortably full. Each chew was an effort and every swallow an unbelievable achievement. He knew Sebastian’s pain, for he too had trained his body to take these massive quantities. He was still training though, every day becoming a little bit greedier.

“That was pretty good!” Bleecker nodded from the couch, his huge arms spread across the back of the cushions. This was the only place he would sit in the lounge these days; right in the middle of the sofa, as if he was training himself to fill the large space. “You’ve eaten almost as much as me!”

Sebastian seemed delighted by the observation. “I’ll be big enough to play rugby like you, if I carry on eating like this!”

Bleecker burst out laughing, assuming that Sebastian was joking. “You’re serious?” he questioned apologetically, when he realised that he wasn’t. “Rugby?”

“Well, you like rugby, and Felix used to play in high school. But I thought you needed a bit of weight on you to play the game?” Sebastian asked innocently.

“That really depends on your position,” Bleecker considered. He looked at Sebastian’s body, wondering how well he could get around a field; not very well, was his guess. “Stand up,” he ordered curiously. “I want to have a look at you.”

Sebastian smiled and did as he was told; taking his shirt off at the same time. He stood there and tensed his relatively small muscles, concealed well under the mounting layers of blubber.

“Well, you’ve got potential,” Bleecker nodded, trying to hide his arousal.

With Sebastian’s shirt off, he could see every inch of fresh fat: the love handles, the nipples, the stretch marks decorating the skin surrounding his deep belly button. Not only that, but without a shirt on, Bleecker could see just how thick, wide and protrusive Sebastian’s butt had grown, above his flabby unconditioned thighs. He beckoned Sebastian closer and lifted the fattened exchange student’s arms up so that he could inspect his body even more. Damn! Look at those love handles!

“So, I have potential, huh?” Sebastian asked, almost flirtatiously.

Bleecker couldn’t resist; he’d tried for so long. He placed a hand on Sebastian’s butt and another on the furthest expanse of the boy’s tight belly; just marvelling at his new, blubbery thickness. This was what he wanted. This was what he was going to have. All this fat that hadn’t been there a few months ago; and who could tell how big he’d be getting within another few months?

“Not for rugby. Not a chance!” he clarified to Sebastian, unable to resist giving a little shake with his strong hands, making the fat ripple through the boy’s middle. “But you definitely have potential, nonetheless…”

“Am I too fat for rugby?” Sebastian asked, clearly aroused and seemingly desperate for Bleecker to agree with him.

He placed his hand over Bleecker’s fingers, that were resting on his gut, and then made them pinch around his new, lardy stomach fat.

“Am I too fat, Bleecker?” he asked, more seriously and flirtatious than ever.

Bleecker’s arousal was spiking beyond belief. Here he was holding one of the guys he had been flirting with for so long. This chub was saying all the right things and hitting each one of his kinks.

“Not yet…” Bleecker replied confidently, surprised at how bold he felt, even without a few beers down him tonight.

Then he squeezed Sebastien’s large, buttery glute and shook it, admiring just how soft and pliable it was getting.

“But… I can make you too fat, if you want?” he grinned, suddenly taking his hand away from Sebastian’s oversized butt so that he could rub his own, massive ball-gut. “I can make all three of us far, far too fat!”

Sebastian looked curiously at Bleecker. “All three of us?” he asked in confusion.

To receive early access to Fatter Exchange Student and other exclusive stories check out the Gainer Stories Patreon.

[jane-ways]

Of Things Made to be Destroyed, Ch 1

Read it on AO3 and SWG!

Title and description from Fuckmylife666 by Against Me!

*

In fairy stories, the kind he used to tell his nephew, the handsome prince sees the beautiful princess and falls instantly in love. She is radiant, and he, burning with passion, strides purposefully towards her, mind made up to ask for her hand in marriage. They dance, because they are at a ball (these sorts of things always seem to happen at balls), they kiss, and then they are married, and live happily ever after. (“What happens in the happily ever after?” Celebrimbor had once asked. Caranthir, stuttering, had told him to ask his father.)

This was not a fairy story. The first time he saw her, she was little more than a blur covered in blood and filth as he swept past her on horseback. In the back of his mind, Caranthir registered that she appeared to be the person in charge, and after his initial assault drove the attacking orcs back, he turned his horse, searching her out amongst the rabble. She fought close to the front lines, screaming orders to her soldiers above the din of the wind and rain, voice raw with the kind of fury that most often masks fear. (Something in the ragged edges of her words caught his notice, and he heard in them first his father and then himself.) He made to catch her eye and saw he had already caught hers. (Well, Caranthir reasoned, trying not to make too much of it, he was a mighty Elven lord on horseback who had just swept in from the rear with half his cavalry. Eru knew what he seemed like to this mortal woman.) Riding up to meet her, he spared no time for pleasantries and cut straight to the point, shouting the first words of his message even before he had quite reached her. Belatedly, it occurred to him that she might not speak Sindarin. He prayed that by some miracle these people had encountered friendly Avari who might have passed on Thingol’s language.

Luck, it would appear, was on his side. Slashing at an orc who had broken through the defensive line, she shouted back her reply over the howling of the wind. Battle plans thus agreed on, she returned her attentions to the orc as Caranthir charged forward to his soldiers once more, surging into the fray.

*

By the time the battle was over, the storm had subsided to a drizzle, no less damp and miserable but at least less noisy. Picking his way through the uneven ground, Caranthir guided his horse around the bodies of the dead and injured. Mannish and Elvish soldiers alike scoured the battlefield for fallen comrades, either to tend or to bury. The orcs they left. The woman stood a ways off, surrounded by a contingent of other Men, whom he guessed to also be women by the obvious swells of their hips and chests. (He wondered if perhaps that was why Men seemed to take so much stock of whether one was male or female—those being the only two options, as he understood it, although in truth he found Mannish sexual dimorphism, and the extent to which it seemed to govern their genders, their societies, and their daily lives, utterly mystifying.) With Elves he would not have so easily known, but then, with Elves it would not have mattered. Perhaps these women were considered more suitable counselors or bodyguards for a female leader? Or perhaps this was a society governed by women? Had Findaráto or the twins mentioned any tribes of the Edain with matriarchal systems of leadership?

His thoughts thus occupied, Caranthir did not notice when his horse failed to stop completely as he dismounted. Tripping ahead with the forward momentum, his leather riding boots slipped in the wet mud, and he stumbled with an “oomf” directly into the woman’s outstretched arms. Peering down at him, she blinked. For the first time, he could see her face clearly, and he found himself preeminently occupied with the sheen of sweat and rain on her skin, and how it seemed to glimmer as it rose in thin wisps of steam into the cold air.

She coughed politely and he realized with embarrassment that he had been staring. “You, ah,” he stuttered, “you fight well.” Regaining his composure, Caranthir righted himself awkwardly, all the while praying silently he would not slip again. “Thank you.”

“I am Haleth, daughter of Haldad, by right of succession chieftain of the Haladin.” She gave him a once over, flicking her eyes from head to toe and back up. Without thinking, he felt himself stand up straighter. “Who are you?”

“I am Morifinwë Carnistir, called Caranthir in the tongue of Elu Thingol; Prince of Thargelion, fourth son of the First House of the Noldor. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady,” he replied in what he hoped was the correct mixture of grandeur, magnanimity, and pleasantness. First contact protocol was an inexact science at the best of times, and he had met few Edain before—certainly not as the ranking prince in his side of the exchange. And certainly not having just tripped into their arms. Gazing at her again, he noticed the same intensity he had first seen on the battlefield, a veneer of authority with its foundation in insecurity. By right of succession, she had said. Even though her Sindarin wasn’t perfect, that much had come across clearly. So her parent had likely died in this battle, or at least recently enough that she had not been formally recognized as leader in her own right. Dimly, Caranthir recalled the name Haldad from the depths of his memory: a man’s name, he thought, so not a matriarchy—another reason for her overcompensation. Haldad—wasn’t he the one who had united the Haladin? Not a long or well-established line of leadership either, then. A wave of sympathy swept over Caranthir. Poor woman. At least his father, in all the blustering and recklessness of his last years, had been secure in his right of succession by birth and the strength of his line.

All these thoughts came and passed in the blink of an eye. Haleth, too, had been making her own mental review, and now she spoke. “Thank you for your aid, Lord,” she said carefully, picking at each syllable, although whether to better her pronunciation or bide for more time to think, he was unsure. “You have been generous in your help today, and in letting us settle your southern lands,” she continued. Caranthir saw that she aimed to go on, but he interjected, hoping to reassure her (and spare himself further effusive comments, which he found embarrassing—he had had enough embarrassment for one day).

“It is well enough to me that you should be settled there, Lady. My people make little use of these lands and your presence discourages more aggressive invasions from—” In the background, he heard the snarl of a wounded orc who had regained consciousness. There was shouting, more snarling, the clashing of metal, and then all fell silent again. “…More unsavory peoples than yourselves,” he finished pointedly. “In fact,” he found himself saying, in one of those all-too-common moments where he could feel his lips moving faster than his mind, with apparently no ability to control the words coming out of his own mouth, “it would not displease me if you were to remain here.”

“It would not displease you?” Haleth’s tone was unreadable but decidedly lacking in enthusiasm.

“With your own fiefdom, of course,” he added hurriedly. Why am I like this? he wondered mournfully. It’s like dropping something and just watching it fall. “You would be free to rule your people and live as you see fit, with as much or as little involvement in my affairs as you wish. I believe it would continue to be mutually beneficial for us both.”

“My Lord,” Haleth spoke deliberately, choosing her words carefully but firmly. “My Lord, is that not already what we have been doing? Living as we pleased, with as much as involvement in the affairs of Elves as we desired?” That is, Caranthir surmised unhappily, none at all.

Caranthir felt a surge of—annoyance? disappointment?—rise up in his throat. “Yeeess,” he answered slowly, drawing out each sound in an attempt to calm down. “To a degree. But as you have been living on my lands without leave—that is,” he caught himself as anger flashed across Haleth’s face—“without formal, legal documentation, you have also been denying yourselves access to certain special protections, public works and improvements projects, tax benefits, etcetera…” As he felt himself slip into what his brothers called “Accountant Mode,” he stopped and took a deep breath. He did not have the time or patience to teach this woman the finer details of administration. Either she had learned what she needed from observing her father, or she would now have to learn the hard way. And he would be damned if he begged a Man to stay on the lands she had already been illegally squatting on. (Even if that squatting had substantially kept the orcs at bay. And resulted in the land being cultivated and cleared of unwanted flora and fauna. And thus increased its real estate value.) Caranthir took another deep breath and settled himself.

Haleth gazed at him silently, considering her options. He guessed that she was not foolish enough to say aloud that she didn’t need him, and he certainly wasn’t foolish enough to insist aloud that she clearly did. One did not get to be as rich as Caranthir by being that stupid. So, what would it be, then?

“My people need time to recover before we can begin making plans for the future,” she said at last. A non-answer, then. Wise decision, he thought. It would give her time to consider her options while receiving more goodwill aid from his people. He would have helped her anyway, of course—he wasn’t a monster, despite what his tempter and his actions at Alqualondë might prompt some to say—but it was clever maneuvering not make that assumption.  Perhaps she had learned more than he had first assumed.

He bowed and took his leave, remounting his horse and guiding it over to his lieutenant. There was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain, and for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint, his mind was filled with the fairy stories he had once told his nephew, and how when his father had first seen his mother, she had been covered in the soot of the forge.

[theforgottenyrealms]

Sessions 12 and 13

12

The party had a long meeting for discussing their options going forward and identifying and distributing their new handful of magic items. Ketta’s priority was getting back to Baldur’s Gate to keep up her undercover role among the Zhentarim and to inform her true boss, Duchess Serena Cinders of the Council of Four, what had been going on. Soulmender wanted to return as well in order to tell Lady Sashenstar about her dead son.

Ishtani also told the others that she knew where the orb of entropy might be. She had guessed it was Candlekeep, based on the clue she found. But she was reluctant to divulge the info yet because she knew Ketta would relay that to the Council of Four. Ishtani was unsure if they could be trusted.

They all returned to the laboratory and activated the portal, which led, as suspected, back to the small office beneath the Armanci estate. Upon arriving at the library upstairs, they encountered a pretty elven woman who claimed to be Thiala, the Zhentarim agent who had been the mistress of Vincent Armanci for a time. It turned out she had been keeping control of the estate while the Zhents were using it to fix the portal downstairs and get inside the Varcona sanctum. She kept Lady Ryla drugged to make it seem like she was ill, and dismissed all the other servants. Thiala did not seem very intelligent and was impatient to pass along a message from Moritz to Ketta: he needed to see her that evening at the Blushing Mermaid tavern. They asked if she had seen Baldwin, and Thiala said yes, that he had rushed through earlier that day looking very wounded. He hadn’t stopped to speak to her and no one has explained what’s going on. Her job done, Thiala said she was leaving town, since the Watch was looking for her.

The group split up, with Ketta and Neda going off to the meeting with Moritz. Soulmender and Ezra briefly checked in on Lady Ryla to make sure she was alive. She was, and appeared deeply asleep and not likely to wake for several hours. Ishtani and Miri searched the library, and Ishtani found a book with information about Candlekeep. She learned that the fortress is protected by powerful wards, and it’s very difficult to gain entry. Usually a valuable donation of a rare book, worth at least 1000 gold, was required. Or special permission from a person of influence, like a monarch or a renown sage or wizard. Miri found a book about wyverns and how to raise and care for a wyvern hatchling.

Soulmender, Ezra, Nemeia and Miri headed to the Helm and Cloak tavern, intending to find Alex Portyr, the young nobleman who had first told them about the missing Dabron Sashenstar. Ishtani went shopping to pick up some needed gear.

Ketta stopped by the Three Old Kegs tavern, where she left a note in loose brick meant to inform the Council that she had information to tell. Since it was still the afternoon, Ketta and Neda decided to go visit the Basilisk Gate to see if the guards Ketta had bribed for information a few days ago were around. They were, and Warren Waters was in a bad mood, so he was reluctant to talk to her. Finally persuaded, he said he had heard something about a “Reodicris” recently. A strange old man who wore a tall, pointy hat, and who called himself Mr. Bilger, had arrived in town the other day. He wouldn’t shut up about the “magnificent Reodicris” he’d seen flying above the Cloudpeak Mountains. Mr. Bilger left the city again yesterday morning, and Warren didn’t know where he’d gone.

The news about Reodicris was very exciting to Neda, and she was eager to go to the Cloudpeaks as soon as their other business was concluded. When Ketta asked for more details about Reodicris, Neda didn’t want to reveal anything else.

At the Helm and Cloak, Soulmender, Ezra, Nemeia and Miri made a big, noisy entrance, startling most of the upper crust patrons and embarrassing Alex, who was day drinking at the bar. He was despondent upon hearing of Dabron’s fate, and nervous about having to go tell Dabron’s mother. They had several drinks and offered to accompany him to the Sashenstar residence, which Alex accepted. Lady Aurelia Sashenstar was happy to see Alex and a little confused by his odd new friends but willing to accept them. She was in a bad state already with her son being missing for so long, and the news of his death was not surprising to her but still hard to hear. They did their best to comfort her and in gratitude she gave them a gift, a wand of detect magic that she had intended to give to Dabron.

The group, already tipsy, had some more wine at the Sashenstar house. By the time they left they were quite drunk and not making great decisions. They went back to the Helm and Cloak, to the dismay of the fancy bartender there, and drank some more. Alex decided they were his new best friends and wanted to go and have a bar fight in the rougher part of town. He’d heard fights happened all the time in the Elfsong tavern and they all went there (Ezra carrying Soulmender after she passed out).

As evening fell, Ketta and Neda went to the Blushing Mermaid, a very ramshackle looking bar frequented by sailors and other rough crowds. Ishtani had gone there too and perched on a nearby roof to watch the comings and goings. Neda went invisible to be a secret observer of the meeting, sticking close to Ketta’s legs so that the rowdy patrons of the tavern wouldn’t bump into her.

Moritz was in a rented room upstairs and pacing agitatedly when Ketta found him. He said Minetta, one of the lieutenants to the Pereghost (the current leader of the Zhentarim), was on her way. This was very bad news to him – it meant the Pereghost and upper leadership were alarmed by what Moritz had told them about Baldwin and the orb of entropy.

Minetta arrived shortly afterwards. She was a half-elf with a severe expression, a scar across her face, and dark, cropped hair. She was accompanied by two hooded and cloak bodyguards, a half-orc and a human woman, who stood guard in the hallway outside while Minetta talked.

Minetta was a very serious and intimidating woman and explained that the Pereghost was very displeased to hear that Baldwin had both betrayed the Zhentarim and was looking for the orb of entropy, something the Pereghost apparently knew about. However, Moritz and Ketta were not being blamed. Minetta admitted that the Zhentarim leadership took some of the blame for this situation by not vetting Baldwin properly. They’ve been hard up for new recruits in recent years, especially after that thing with the Lords’ Alliance ten years ago, so when a talented magic user came along and volunteered to join them they accepted him without too may questions. It turns out they really knew nothing much at all about Baldwin Morecote, not even where he came from except that he had a vaguely Athkatlan accent, meaning he could come have originated in the nation of Amn.

According to Minetta, the Pereghost had no interest in the orb of entropy and was more concerned with preventing Baldwin from getting it. The artifact is apparently quite dangerous, and the Pereghost fears that if Baldwin acquires it and uses it, it will be quite destructive and noticeable and the Zhentarim will be blamed by all the other great powers of the Sword Coast. Baldwin must be captured and brought to him – and if that’s not possible he should be killed.

Ketta asked Minetta about what the orb of entropy does. Minetta said that the Pereghost hadn’t told her everything and that it was a need-to-know thing, but she was persuaded to tell Ketta that the orb has some history or connection with the ancient empire of Netheril. As a bard Ketta was very familiar with the history of Netheril. It was powerful nation of spellcasters, known for its great flying cities. It had been destroyed two thousand years ago, when one of its greatest wizards, Karsus, had tried to take over the magical Weave and make himself a god. This act disrupted the existence of magic for a few crucial seconds, causing all the flying cities to crash to the ground. All that’s left of Netheril today is a desert wasteland to the northeast. One of those cities, Thultanthar, had managed to survive the fall, by being planeshifted into the shadowfell plane before Karsus’ Folly. It had returned more than a century ago, fully corrupted by the shadowfell. The “shadovar” of that city had tried to reestablish a new Netheril in the decades after, until they gradually became a threat to their neighbors. In 1487, about 5 years earlier, it too had been destroyed in a great magical battle and also crashed to the ground.  

Having given them their new orders to find and capture or kill Baldwin, Minetta departed, saying she was headed to Amn and the city of Athkatla to search for new leads about Baldwin’s past. Ketta and Neda left the Blushing Mermaid and headed for the Elfsong tavern, hoping the others might be there since it was the inn they had stayed at last time they werein Baldur’s Gate.

Ezra, Soulmender, Nemeia and Miri reached the Elfsong where they spotted Kril hiding in the alleyway. Alex went immediately inside so Nemeia followed him. A bar fight was indeed underway inside the tavern. Several adventuring looking types were pummeling each other, surrounded by a crowd of cheering onlookers. Alex immediately dove in, trying to tackle a dwarf. He missed and fell flat on his face, having passed out drunk. Nemeia went to the bar to tell Alyth, the owner, that the nephew of Grand Duke Portyr was unconscious on her floor. Alyth sighed and had her people collect him and put him in a room upstairs to sleep it off. Nemeia convinced the bartender that Alex, her best friend, wanted to open a tab for her. She continued drinking, and made quick friends with a group of adventurers seated at a booth table.

The others went to Kril, who they discovered was crying. He was relieved to see them, having not been sure if they would come back. He also revealed that he had found a group of darkling elders in the city, living in the sewers near the Undercellar. They knew how to do the ritual to make an elder, but they were refusing to do it for him. He wasn’t “cool enough” to join their squad. Kril wanted to know if they could help him convince the elders to change their minds.  

13

Ketta and Neda arrived at the Elfsong, followed by Ishtani, just as Soulmender, Ezra and Miri were going inside with Kril (hidden in Soulmender’s bag). They socialized in the tavern well into the evening. Soulmender, recently recovered from having passed out, resumed drinking and also made friends with the other adventuring party that Nemeia had met. They consisted of a dwarf (Bluster, a barbarian), a delicate, pixie-looking elf (Quanthra, elf druid) and a human man (Locke, a fighter), and called themselves the Sand Fiends (they’re still working on the name). They were very impressed with the party’s stories about going into the Cloakwood.

The dwarf patted Soulmender on the back at one point, telling her about a secret underground tournament that was coming up in two weeks. It was to take place at the Havoc Pits, an arena run in the Undercellar. Normally there were matches held there between people, but for this tournament apparently, they were bringing in monsters that could be fought for prize money.

Sometime during the evening, a halfling courier arrived to pass a note to Ketta. The halfling, attempting to be stealthy, tripped and fell instead, and after handing over the note quickly ran back out.

The Sand Fiends eventually went upstairs to bed, and soon the party made their way up to Ketta’s room. She told them about what had occurred in the meeting with Moritz. Ketta’s theory was that the orb of entropy might have very destructive capabilities, the kind of power that could topple cities. With no other leads besides its potential origin in Netheril, Ketta thought it might be hidden somewhere in the ruins of Netheril, northeast. And that’s perhaps where Baldwin has gone.

Ishtani spoke up, revealing that the orrery had divined that the orb was in Candlekeep, possibly, and that it was a place not easy to gain access too. She admitted they might need help from Ketta’s Council to get inside. Ketta said she was going to meet with Duchess Serena Cinders tomorrow sometime, and she was inviting them all to join her.

The following morning at breakfast downstairs, Kril crawled out of Soulmender’s bag, expressing dismay that the group might be leaving Baldur’s Gate again so soon. They said it might not be for a couple of days, and there was still time to help him with the darkling elders. When asked if there was anything they could do to make them change their minds about Kril, he explained that they had given him an impossible task. He had to kill a terrifying creature that lived in the sewers. It had been bothering them for a few weeks and they wanted to be rid of it. Kril was convinced that they were just sending him to be eaten by the monster. Soulmender calmed Kril and said they would figure out how to kill the beast in a way that made it look like Kril had helped, at least.

The familiar traveling saleswoman, Irva Graytrails, walked in to the Elfsong. She was speaking to her invisible, silent companion, Ernest, and eager for a quick cup of coffee before heading back on the road. The party was thrilled to see her and ready to spend their newly acquired money on her interesting wares. They bought up most of her stock, including an ‘alchemical chicken’. The purple feathered, blue-eyed chicken apparently laid a different kind of magical egg daily. Soulmender paid for the chicken herself and named it Beatrice. It laid a black egg, which Soulmender bit into, causing the darkness spell to be cast on her instantly.

Ketta’s meeting with Duchess Cinders was set for noon, so they spent the morning shopping. Soulmender purchased treats for Beatrice and horse treats. Ketta, Ishtani and Miri bought some better armor at the Dancing Axe store.

At lunchtime they headed to the Three Old Kegs, a very rustic, cozy tavern with a light crowd of patrons inside reading books and enjoying tea. They went to a private dining room in the back, and shortly Serena Cinders and her gnome assistant, Orryn, arrived. Serena was a tall, stately human woman, wearing a mixture of fine clothes and plate armor. She had short, grey hair, a strong jawline, and carried a greatsword at her waist. Orryn was a friendly looking wizardly type, with a long white beard and a bald head.

Serena said she was relieved to see Ketta alive and well, as it had been some time since she’d last heard from her. Ketta explained everything that had been going on with Baldwin and the Zhentarim, including their lead that the orb of entropy was in Candlekeep. Serena and Orryn took in the news gravely. They hadn’t heard about what the orb of entropy was, but the Zhentarims’ concern about it made them equally concerned. Orryn needed to do some more research. Serena concluded that because Baldwin was deemed dangerous even to the Zhentarim, and because he was searching for a powerful, potentially deadly artifact, he should be killed. Orryn, a pacifist by nature, expressed dismay at this idea, saying Baldwin hadn’t really done anything that severe yet and didn’t need to be executed. Serena was unmoved, saying Orryn was always reluctant to do what was necessary.

Furthermore, Serena could provide the group with a writ of entry that would allow them to enter Candlekeep. She told them that the current Keeper of the Tomes, Ulraunt, was a difficult man to talk to. They should be careful how they approach him. Her writ of entry would only go so far and wouldn’t grant them comprehensive access to the entire library fortress.

Serena spoke to the rest of the group, expressing gratitude for their assistance to Ketta. This had earned them a favor from her. Serena was willing to pay them 5000 gold as well, if they were to hunt down and destroy Baldwin.