The Guilded Cage, Ch 12
#23 of The Guilded Cage
Per reader decision from Ch 11, this post will have Clarke Baysong as the focus point once again. Clarke is a Beast-Kin Wolf Bard and prominent member of the Naysayers, a fairly well-known adventuring group based out of St Almar. If you haven't read Ch 10, Clarke is afflicted by some kind of curse that causes everyone who knows him to forget all about him every 10 years on an anniversary of some event that takes place on the 2nd of Dawnstar.
This story is known as The Guilded Cage (yes, Guilded and not Gilded) and it differs from the prior ones I've presented here because it will be played as a D&D (3.5 edition) campaign at the same time by a group of players.
Interested in helping to guide the campaign? Just keep watch here for more details about The Guilded Cage and opportunities to vote.
Interested in playing as a player? Send me a message and I'll provide you a group invite, as it's not too late! (warning: chat is nsfw). The campaign will feature a variety of characters, both PC and NPC, and will feature a drop-in-drop-out style of participation with games being held on Sundays, 12-4pm (Pacific Time, UTC-7).
Warning: This story may contain adult elements including but not limited to violence, drug use, sex, sexual situations, and profanity.
Updates to the story line here will be infrequent, with more posts if there's more interest in the form of comments and favorites. Post will often be accompanied by a vote, which all readers (but not players involved in the game) may use to help guide events!
So, with that out of the way, let's discuss what the next vote entails:
Relationship within St Almar are often based on individuals integrating into large groups for mutual benefit but the most powerful of relationships are usually reserved for just two people. On which character will we focus the next chapter?
a) It would been enlightening to see the relationship between brother and sister, Aust and Talia Nilo, the High Priest and High Priestess of Norr.
b) The twin Coyote Beast-Kin brothers, Jak and 'Preacher' can get into some pretty crazy hijinx, but they often don't see eye-to-eye.
c) Vincent Bidwell, son of a murdered Tradesman's League leader is almost all alone in the world, all except for his loyal bodyguard, a Beast-Kin Golden Retriever named Kormac.
d) Half-Elves in St. Almar can have a very hard time, but, every now and again, one prospers. Aerlia, a herbalist in the slums is one such half-elf, but that's largely in part to a dear friend of hers.
e) The brotherly love between Jace and his brother Dylan seems to transcend death... perhaps learning a little more about that might be worthwhile.
Voting is now open, but it closes soon.
The Guilded Cage, Ch 12
It's Not Home Without a Family
While Clarke was not a stranger to The Horn of Plenty it was not the inn where he'd spent most of his time in in recent years. It'd been almost a decade since it'd been his preferred hangout, havint elected to do most of his business at the Stranded Kelpie. The offering of food and drinks were far finer down by the wharf than what was offered in the slums. Then again, he hadn't really found a reason to visit since the inn was taken over by new management and, as he sat alone at a table, nursing his watered down ale, he had to admit that the place had improved significantly. Then again, the taste of the drink had probably improved due to the bad taste in his muzzle.
Ever since he'd joined The Naysayers, the Wolf had called the Stranded Kelpie home-- or at least a second home. The inn by the docks was the adventuring group's favorite, and not just because of the food and drinks but because of the company. Clarke had spent nearly two weeks with the group since the 2nd and, in that time, he was welcomed in (a second time) with open arms. They were all surprised at how well he integrated into the group but that was mostly because they didn't realize that he'd been there at what essentially amounted to its founding.
There were times in his past when he would have just gone a separate way and cut his losses but after enough resets to his life there was something about the stability that appealed to him. Perhaps that was why it hurt so much. Taking another sip from his ale, the Wolf stared at the wall; life hadn't been easy by any measure but there were certain hurdles that took time to overcome-- being treated like a new member of a group he helped bring together would be just one more challenge that Clarke would have to overcome.
Behind him and off to the side a few members of the Rogue's Guild sat at a corner table, talking quietly among themselves-- presumably about him, considering their eyes continued to meander in his direction. He ignored them for the most part; he knew who they were well enough but they'd assuredly forgotten all about him. Having flashed a few signs to them with enough significance that they knew he wasn't a mark, the Wolf was ready to put them out of his mind as well; he'd never been particularly close to 'The Mule', and the antics of Mit and Paw were not really his style. Every time Clarke went through the erasure of his existence from the minds of others he often spend a lot of time alone amidst a sea of company.
The silenced bard should have been used to it and, in many ways he was. Every time it happened, however, things turned out just a little differently. In the past his reset had resulted in him losing a home, taken away grandiose recognition, and cost him an opportunity for love, but complete anonymity wasn't always bad either-- his Dawnstar resets had helped him evade a city-wide hunt for him by the Lawgivers, undone a poor life choice, and even given him a second chance at making a good first impression. There was a silver lining to the cloud and he had to force himself to look at it, not unlike the way he had to force his tail to wag at what should have been pleasant moments so onlookers wouldn't consider him 'overtly dour'. It was exhausting.
Even as he kept to himself, nursing his mediocre drink and letting his mind wander to all of the things he'd miss, one thought kept coming back to him: he'd saved her life, taken her away from the mines at her parent's behest so she could find a better life, but she wouldn't remember him-- her parents certainly hadn't. It was almost a full four days after the 2nd when the Naysayers arrive at the mining complex several days north of St Almar and, while everyone else went to resupply and prepare for the second leg of their journey, Clarke had excused himself and went to see two specific individuals.
Heath and Heather Frontier were a middle-aged couple-- a pair of Cape Dogs who had worked at the mines their entire lives. He'd met them almost a decade past, a few months after his last run-in with his ten-year struggle with the 2nd of Dawnstar. Their daughter, Basil, not quite ten years old had followed her father into the mines and an unexpected rockfall had done enough damage that the foreman noted that there would be no reason to keep her on site-- either the parents had to go or she did. Clarke wasn't quite sure exactly how they managed to convince him to take her with him, but he attributed it to his unsteady emotional condition of having been forgotten-- perhaps he wanted to start his next ten years off right?
He managed to take the girl back to St Almar, got her into the care of an herbalist, and then hoped to forget about her. Yet, for some reason he kept finding his way back. It felt like a lifetime ago and, in fact, considering he was, yet again, starting a new life, perhaps it was? It really didn't matter since she, like everyone else, would have forgotten he existed-- her parents certainly had. He'd taken the time to see them while the Naysayers were preparing and, as expected, they had no recollection of him. Clarke had taught Heath field sign in the many years he'd visited them since taking their daughter to safety and, even though the Cape Dog didn't remember where he'd learned it, Clarke was able to communicate with them to that effect without issue.
He managed to bluff his way into their good graces, explaining he was a messenger who took messages to St Almar from surrounding areas. Clarke went further, providing them a message from their daughter, as he always did. Like always, it was a lie-- a complete fabrication he created each and every visit. The truth, which he hid, was that she didn't remember them; she didn't remember anything before the cave in and had trouble remembering anything that happened to her afterward. Clarke had promised that he'd get their daughter to safety and he'd done that; his obligation was done. So why did he always go out of his way to update them and let them know she was doing so well for herself. He'd followed along Basil's life and he made sure that Heath and Heather knew of each and every one of Basil's successes... and they had been many.
Downing the last of his drink, Clarke told himself that it would be his final visit to them. They no longer knew who he was and that someone else would have to send them word of their daughter. His obligation died with his last life and a fresh start was supposed to be just that... except that he didn't quit the Naysayers, he reminded himself. Maybe that was because Wren still remembered him? He shook his head, rolling his eyes at his own silly rationalization. No-- he was just tired of being alone and, no matter how much it hurt that none of them knew him, he knew them. There was something comforting in familiarity, even if it wasn't reciprocated.
The door to the inn opened; that shouldn't have been a special occurrence since it'd done so at least a half dozen times since he'd arrived. It was morning so the place wasn't as busy as it would be after the noon hour but, for some reason, Clarke couldn't help but turn to see who was entering, and that was when he was stung with the worst emotional pain he'd experienced all morning: it was Basil. He knew the time would ultimately come when he'd have to come to terms with the fact that the girl he'd saved, long-since become an adult, would just see him as another stranger. What caught him as curious was the fact that, rather than glance around the common room casually, the moment she caught sight of him she made a bee-line for his table.
Swallowing his pride and unspoken grief, the Wolf put on his best pleasant smile, forcing his tail into a wag despite how much he didn't feel like it, and provided a casual, almost flippant remark with his field sign. --I am not often the target of so much attention. To what do I owe the pleasure?--
Basil actively laughed at that, as if he'd told a joke and for just a moment, Clarke's heart almost jumped up into his throat. He was ALMOST able to convince himself that some miracle had happened and, for some inexplicable reason someone had somehow not been reset by his curse. In the very next moment his dreams became reality. "Clarke, you can be so weird sometimes."
His brain stopped; his tail stopped; for just a split second the Wolf was sure his heart had stopped. Barely managing to force his fingers into motion, the silent Bard carefully and meticulously formed the signs carefully as he asked her. "You know me?"
All smiles, the Cape Dog girl knelt down so that she could be eye-to-eye with him where he sat. "I know my memory isn't all that great about SOME things, but you KNOW I could never possibly forget YOU!"
Clarke was usually in control of his actions; he needed to be. The Wolf was careful about showing emotion or giving in to them but, once he heard her actually regard him in the capacity she'd known him for nearly ten years he was out of his chair, pulling her to his chest, and fighting back tears. Despite the pain trying caused him, the Wolf attempted to croak out a few words but, as expected, he failed. Resting his paw against her cheek, he signed the words against her fur. --It's good to see you.--
Laughing, and obviously obvious to the importance of the moment to him, Basil gave him a hug in return as she replied flippantly. "Well then, it's good to be seen!"
Slowly disengaging and returning to his seat, Clarke nodded. --Yes. Yes it is.--
He didn't have to force his tail to wag.