"It would get all damp and mushy otherwise!" the Hiwelthadt chimed in.
"We should allow him to recuperate and pray for his well-being," Earl Blazingtree added.
"Nonsense," the Master of Ceremony decided. "He has his duty to the Empire and he should fulfil it unless he is seriously sick. I do not believe he is. I am sorry, milady, but you are not allowed here. We shall continue when the Baron is present." The meeting was concluded by a collective groan.
***
"A Heroic paladin, a little bit less Heroic dwarf and a somewhat reluctantly Heroic self-appointed warrior-princess were crossing some nondescript forest on their way to the cursed haunted forbidden cemetery of PAAAAAAIN where they were hoping to meet their current arch-enemy, the fabled Valkyrie Wolf!"
"Alexander, please stop narrating!" Gaduria asked.
"The previous arch-enemy, the vile necromancer, is long forgotten, because it was concluded that the sole purpose of the small undead woodland creatures was to lead us to the rescue of the warrior-princess from the evil clutches of some guys wearing blackened potato sacks!"
"Stop narrating or I'll go warrior-princess on your head with my new dwarf-hitting branch!" Gaduria threatened.
"Sorry."
"So this is how this whole Heroism thing works? You just receive a random quest and then you go and fulfil it? No questions asked?" Over a week passed since she got Heroically rescued, but Gaduria still had problems with understanding the concept.
"It is not random," the paladin replied. "I have a goal that I am striving to achieve, and various quests are just steps to that goal. But yes, I look for quests and I complete them. Each one is there for a reason, even if we do not see it yet."
"Surprisingly, it works out for him," Alexander added. "If I tried that on my own, I'm sure I'd end up lost or killed or eaten or kidnapped by faeries by day two."
"Kidnapped.. by faeries?" Gaduria looked suspiciously at the dwarf. "Why would you expect such a thing?"
"Well, you know, it's like... There are these faeries. They hang around unearthly flowers..." Alexander began to explain, but Gaduria stopped him.
"Unearthly... flowers?"
"Yes, yes, unearthly flowers. You know, those that look like they are out of this world somewhat?"
"All right..."
"So, yes, they hang around unearthly flowers, and stone circles, and enchanted glades possibly. They lure unwary travellers by singing and dancing and card games and pine cone juggling and such. If an unwary traveller approaches, a fairy sneaks up behind him and stuns him by using a combination of fairy powder and a heavy mace. Then they put him into a wooden cage and annoy him with itchy leaves and however else they choose to. Until he goes insane."
"I think you have nothing to fear from them. You are already insane. And you, do you hear what he's saying?" Gaduria addressed the paladin. "There is something wrong with his head!"
"Yes, I do believe he is wrong. Unearthly flowers are more of a kobold place I think."
"How would you know?" the dwarf challenged him.
"I do not know. It seems to me that such knowledge is something that comes with being a Hero."
"And my knowledge comes from my dear old grandma!"
"You are both madmen!" Gaduria exclaimed.
"Oh no! I am a maddwarf!" the dwarf protested.
"Anyway, I have no idea why I am travelling with you!"
"Because it is your destiny," the paladin stated gravely.
"It's not!"
"You could have stayed with Deer Lord, you know," Alexander suggested.
"Yes, I know. His antlers made me uneasy. On the other hand, right now you two make me uneasy too, but it is a bit too late to go back."
"Why do we make you uneasy, oh enchanted flower of heavens?"
"Because you're calling me names like this, for starters!"
"Awkwaaaaaaard," Alexander chimed in.
"And because you are always acting so immature!" she turned to the dwarf.
"More awkwaaaaaard."
"I apologise for my vivid descriptions of your person. Unfortunately, your beauty is so overwhelming that I cannot stop myself," Arthaxiom attempted to explain himself.
"So don't look at me if you can't stop yourself from calling me things like a rainbow-haired aether-nymph!"
"Even when I am not looking, I have an image of you in front of my eyes."
"That's probably the one where you have unicorn legs, alabaster hands, rainbow hair, eyes filled with stars..."
"Shut up, you!" Gaduria interrupted Alexander's list of her body parts. He just grinned.
"You should be glad that he didn't say you have mermaid legs, unicorn hands and hair of the majestic bald eagle."
"Very funny. But seriously, Arthaxiom, please try to contain yourself. Your compliments are creepy. I know you mean well, but you sound as if you were hit on the head with a brick."
"With a wooden beam."
"I'm sorry?"
"I was not hit on the head with a brick, but I was with a wooden beam," the paladin said.
"That explains so much!" Alexander exclaimed.
"Don't be silly, it was a metaphor. People don't get stupid from a hit on the head," Gaduria said.
"Actually, it was that hit that made me realise I'm a Hero," Arthaxiom explained.
"It had to be the Holy Wooden Beam of Heroism!" the dwarf exclaimed again.
"Really?" the paladin asked.
"Of course! It is a legendary artefact! And you left it behind, didn't you?"
"Stop pulling his leg!" Gaduria said. "He wouldn't recognise a joke if one fell on his head."
"A joke did not fall on my head. A wooden beam did."
"My point exactly." Gaduria and Alexander both laughed. Arthaxiom didn't see what was so funny.
"This conversation has no sense," he said. "Let us continue on our quest!"
"Excussssse me," something hissed, "but did you sssssay ssssomething about quesssssstsssss?"
They stopped and looked around. There was a huge serpent coiled around a nearby tree trunk.
"Are you a talking snake?" Gaduria asked warily.
"Ohhh, you are a ssssmart one! Yesssss, I am indeed!" the snake replied.
"So what is that quest of yours?" the paladin asked.
"Yessss, the quessssst. You sssssssee, I have ssssssome mussssshroomsssss. A mussssshroom farm. And there are thesssssse badgersssss there, ruining my musssssshroomsssss. If you were to kill, let'sssss sssssay, twelve or thirteen of them..."
"Most certainly not!" Gaduria interrupted. "We are not going around slaughtering badgers!"
"But... but it is a quest!" the paladin protested. "Quests should be fulfilled! This is a job for a Hero!"
"I am a princess and I declare badgers off limits!" Just to be sure, she used her ultimate weapon. She pouted and stomped her foot.
"You sssssstupid woman!" the snake hissed. "Can you not sssssee I'm trying to do sssssome sssssslaughtering around here?"
"I'll crush your head, you slithery bastard!" and advanced menacingly towards the serpent. It hesitated for a moment.
"Might I appeasssssse you with an apple? It will make you sssssee the thingsssssss my way." The offer didn't seem to interest Gaduria. The snake took a good look at the snake-hitting branch she was waving around and slithered away, hissing in irritation.
***
This time the Baron was present, much to dismay of five other lords and indifference of the sixth one. The Baron himself didn't seem too pleased either. Only the Master of Ceremony was satisfied. The protocol was maintained.
General Roseduck knew he should be happy. Lady Oxrabbit didn't like him too much, which was nothing unusual. He was unworthy of the title and all that. The Baron on the other hand didn't have such prejudices. Not bright enough for them. Also the Baron's sheer presence would most likely severely slow down the proceedings. Yet, somehow, even being assassinated sounded more appealing to Eneumerius than spending a lot of time around Oxrabbit. He concluded tha
t the damage was already done, so he might as well try to benefit from having the Baron around. Unless his brain explodes. Being in the same chamber with other High Lords already was hard to bear, and now it was going to get worse. Probably much worse.
"I, Baron Regedulf Solthyron Asrius Oxrabbit, am present, well in mind..."
"Doubtful," Philigree murmured.
"...and body, and ready to... do... how's that thing I'll do called again?"
"Participate."
"Right. Thank you. I knew it has something to do with partridges. Participate in these proceedings. Achoo!" The Baron sneezed powerfully. He was a big man, and his sneezes were equally big.
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose," Earl Gevenarius blessed him.
"Thank you."
"I recognise Baron Regedulf Solthyron Asrius Oxrabbit, High Lord of the Empire," the Master of Ceremony formally accepted his presence.
"Yes, that's me," the Baron said cheerfully. "Achoo!"
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose," the Earl blessed him again.
"Thank you. I think all this dust doesn't agree with my nose," the Baron observed. "Couldn't some servants clean up this chamber a bit?"
"Servants cannot enter this chamber unless the Emperor orders it," the Master of Ceremony explained.
"I hate to break it to you, but the Emperor is dead, you know," the Baron leaned towards him and whispered conspirationally. Obviously, everyone else heard that anyway. Philigree sniggered.
"Another one?" the Marquis asked sleepily. Nobody answered this one, but the Marquis didn't seem to expect an answer.
"That is the whole point, young man," the Master of Ceremony explained. "The Emperor is dead, therefore nobody can order the servants to clean here. Unless they are blindfolded, but they are rather clumsy and useless in that case."
The Baron didn't seem too happy about that. Having to spend a whole day in a room that disagreed with his nose didn't seem appealing. He also was vaguely aware that the proceedings probably would take more than one day. He wasn't going to give up here. Perseverance was one of his strong points. "Maybe we could vote on that?" he suggested. "Achoo!"
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose," the Earl said yet again.
"Thank you."
"No, young man, it does not work like that," the Master of Ceremony explained patiently. "You only can vote on the new Emperor."
"The new Emperor is more important than cleaning this chamber. Therefore I should be able to vote on cleaning the chamber too." This was an impressive feat of logic. The other lords watched the duel with interest. An unstoppable, yet somewhat blunt force against a rather aged unmovable object. Sympathy was on the Baron's side. He wasn't liked much, but lately the Master of Ceremony became rather intensely disliked. Letting the Baron in was only one of the reasons. Another one was that nobody really enjoyed sitting in a dirty chamber. The High Lords were used to nice, clean chambers.
"Unfortunately, the Codex does not agree with you, young man." The Codex was the old man's ultimate weapon. The Codex contained the laws. A bit of it contained some silly laws concerning murders or thievery. The vast majority of it contained the laws concerning protocol. Many suspected that the Master of Ceremony knew it all by heart.
"And how about... achoo!"
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose," the Earl said yet again. The Baron's constant sneezing and the Earl's constant blessing him quite irritated the other lords. The SemiViscount was the first to get annoyed enough to speak up.
"Do you really have to bless him every time he sneezes?!"
"Of course I have to. You may ignore the religious mandates if you wish, but I most certainly will not!" The Earl got quite agitated. "The Holy Book says: thy shalt bless the one who sneezes. It does not say 'unless he does that too often', or 'unless it doesn't irritate some SemiViscount'!"
"So do you say that every time one of your servants sneezes?!"
"Are you out of your mind, man? Why would I bless a servant?!" The Earl was shocked that the Count would suggest something so ludicrous. "They aren't allowed to sneeze around me anyway. They get whipped if they do!"
"Right. Sorry. That was silly of me," the Count apologised in a rare instance of self-criticism.
"So maybe we could partridge the proceedings somewhere else? Achoo!" the Baron returned to trying to provide a better world for his nose.
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose," the Earl repeated. The Count only growled this time.
"No, we could not," the Master of Ceremony replied. "The Codex clearly says that the proceedings have to be held in the Chamber of the High Lords. This chamber is the Chamber of High Lords, therefore the proceedings will be held in this chamber."
"How about we tell the blindfolded servants to roll around on the floor... achoo!"
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose."
"Thank you."
"And you," the Count decided to get irritated at the Baron this time, "must you really thank him every damn time?"
"I am being polite, you know," the Baron explained. "You could use some politeness too."
"Arrrrrgh!"
The Count's angry noises apparently brought back the Marquis back to reality, because he looked around and asked "What is happening?"
"Oxrabbit sneezes too much!" the Count complained to him.
"Ah. May the Lord of Light bless thy nose, then," the Marquis blessed the Baron.
"Thank you."
The Count got up from his seat, his face red, his fists clenched, his eyes bulging. Clearly he had enough. Before he managed to say or do anything, the Duke, who meanwhile got his breath back, exploded with anger.
"May the Weasels of Doom defecate on thy face!" he shouted, banging his fist on the table.
"Now that was rude," the Baron remarked calmly.
"Rude is forcing me to listen to your constant sneezing, him blessing you every time and you thanking him!" the Duke continued his complaining.
"Indeed," the Count seconded and sat down again. The Duke got angry enough for both of them.
The Baron didn't take the bait. Instead of arguing with them, he single-mindedly pursued his argument with the Master of Ceremony. "Therefore, as I was saying, we should have the blindfolded servants, like, roll around on the floor to gather the dust and stuff on themselves."
"The Codex does not have anything against that," the Master of Ceremony admitted.
"Hilarious, but impractical, I'm afraid," Philigree remarked. "It won't be too precise. Also, we would have wrap them in the drapes and wipe the walls with them and..."
"All right, I get the point," the Baron interrupted. "The servants are useless. Achoo!"
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose."
"Thank you. So maybe... you declare some other room as the High Lord Room?"
"Only the Emperor can designate another chamber as the Chamber of the High Lords. I could do that only if the current one is damaged beyond repair."
"Like, burnt down, maybe?" the Baron asked with a smile.
"Yes, for example. Mind you, burning down the Chamber of the High Lords is high treason."
"Weasel damn it." Oxrabbit sighed heavily. "It leaves me only one option." He stood up, put one leg on his chair and posed dramatically with outstretched arms. "I will clean this chamber myself!"
The Duke and the Count got up from their chairs, startled. The Hiwelthadt's opened his mouth in surprise. The Marquis' did too, but perhaps it was only an accident, because he seemed absent from this world. The General swore under his breath. Something about ermines. The lords silently wished all the worst upon the other lords, like being torn apart by a vicious horde of baboons for example, but nothing so cruel as having to clean!
"Are you out of your mind, man?!" the Duke scowled. "You're a noble! A High Lord! And a High Lord is a High Lord... because he is a High Lord!"
"Because he is higher than an ordinary lord?" Philigree suggested.
"Damn right!" Thinoak slammed his fist on the table. "An
d even an ordinary lord doesn't clean his own chambers!"
"Unless he's retarded a bit," the Count interjected. "I had one uncle, who..."
"Shut up!" the Duke shouted. "The point is, he cannot clean! He'll give us all bad name!"
"Achoo!" Oxrabbit sneezed again while still holding the dramatic pose.
"May the Lord of Light bless thy nose."
"Thank you."
"On the other hand... maybe let's let him clean?" the Duke said with hesitation.
"I would agree here," the Count said.
"Watching him clean might be quite funny," the Hiwelthadt suggested.
"May the Lord of Light bless his broom!"
"When I was young, the Lord of Brooms was blessing lights."
"There is nothing in the Codex forbidding that."
It looked like Baron Oxrabbit would indeed attempt to clean the chamber himself. That would stop his sneezing and relative peace and order would return to the proceedings. General Roseduck was not happy about this. Time to get creative with the protocol. "Let's not be hasty," he said.
"Shut up! We just managed to agree on something!" the Duke tried to quiet him, but the General ignored him.
"You cannot designate another Chamber of High Lords... but maybe you can undesignate one?" he asked the Master of Ceremony.
"What do you mean, young man?" The old man was rather confused.
"Well, does the Codex explicitly say that the Chamber cannot be undesignated?"
"No, it does not."
"Does it explicitly say that there must be a designated one at all times?"
"It also does not."
"Therefore, you can declare that this chamber is not the Chamber of the High Lords. Tomorrow the servants will clean it. Then you can designate it as the Chamber of the High Lords again, since it will be the same room, not a different one, and we can reconvene on the day after tomorrow."
"General, that's... wrong!" The Master of Ceremony used a proper title for the first time. He seemed horrified and impressed at the same time.
"Wrong? We do what is needed to do while still adhering to the rules. Unless you want to listen to..."
"Achoo!"
"Exactly that. May the Lord of Light bless thy nose."
***
Many strange and wondrous creatures can be met in the enchanted woods. This man, dressed in strange clothes, wearing a silly hat and armed with bow and arrows was certainly strange. Not so much wondrous, but that probably depends on the point of view.
Arthaxiom approached to greet the man, but he had only managed to open his mouth when he was shushed.