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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2154326
The 6th Chapter of our hero's Journey
Euotioa: Fallen Lands

Draft Chapter 6


         Penelope had always hated being idle. However the walk to Castle Stonewell was irritatingly long. "Should we have left earlier Uncle Donald?" she asked. Her pace was overceding his, but after bumping into a passenger or two, she found herself slowly trotting back. Dominique seemed unaffected by the slow nature of the crowd. His head was held was skybound, admiring the streetlamps hung across the rooftops. "I doubt leaving early would make a difference. From what I heard Stonewell parties start at the lines." Penelope sighed. Boys and girls danced around the street, holding up wayfarers with their celebration and nonsense. A couple of elderly drunks even joined them in the fun. Everywhere she looked Penelope found stringers hung around the rooftops, confetti and rolled tulips crisscrossing the streets. Some businesses even painted signs adorning the party and Queen Hageburn. Penelope had previously watched these marches from her window; it seemed even less exciting from the ground level. The Lower classes cheered and applauded as the select Highers continued on the decorated streets. Penelope kept her eyes forward and head down...she felt alien in these streets. "You hate us all, I know it deep down," she muttered to herself. The Highers, including her Uncle paid no attention to the Lowers clapping and tossing flowers their way. This whole street is fake, thought Penelope.
         Out of nowwhere, something howled through the night sky. The crowd drew breaths, looking up to see a bright orange fireball...it was slowly descending in their direction. Every onlooker grew silent as it grew larger and larger shooting towards them. Penelope's heart stopped...it looked to be some sort of artillery or-
         Every shriek from the townspeople was drowned out by the massive explosion. The object burst outward with an enormous bang. The smell of gunpowder was just dawning as even more hails screamed by. More explosions and lights ensued, this time followed by cheers and jubulant yells. "Seems that the scented rag money was put to good use!" Dominique yelled over the noise. Penelope smirked as a green and yellow firework burst over her head. It was shaped as a simple castle, followed by more fireworks resembling horses racing back to the keep. "Let's hope it's just as entertaining inside." Penelope countered.

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The wait was still long and Penelope felt her feet ache by the time they had reached the first gate. A very bored, tall man stopped them at the booth. "Your business at Castle Stonewell?" he asked, already holding out his hand. Dominique gave him the ticket, which he lazily inspected. "Her highness Queen Hageburn welcomes you," said he for the thousandth time that night. The two guards moved their rifles aside and Penelope and Dominique passed. "Well it's about time! I thought you two were going to a different party!" Penelope turned around in shock to find Ansel sitting beside a fountain. "Ansel!" she cried, hugging the dwarf. "All right, all right, don't get your dress all kerfluffled!" he said, patting her on the back. The two broke. "What are you doing here? How'd you get in?" He was dressed as is, a simple leather coat and shirt with pants. In no way did he appear ready for a party. "Well my dear, there's many ways to attend a royal party," he said jocularly. "You recieve an invitation from the Queen, to which her army of beurocrats investigate your past portfolio of crime and terroism. Hopefully you don't fail inspection or she dosen't throw it out with her junkmail...otherwise, I suppose you can work the kitchens if you owe the crown a favor." "However, some poor souls decline the invitation, leaving their ticket up for auction," Dominique interjected. Penelope smiled at her Uncle-then after a moments hesitation, hugged him for his great favor. "This counts as your birthday present, just so we are clear," he added.

         Castle Stonewell seemed to grow larger as one approached it. It's dark, weather worn stones completley contrasted with the bright colours of the party. In fact, it seemed to forbode trouble to anyone coming in. "Would you look at this place?" said Ansel, eyeing the structure. "I got to hand to you humans, being a Dwarf and all! Penny, it was said this castle withstood the wrath of the Gods for decades under King Edward." "It seems they still expect hostility of some sort," Dominique said. "I can't say I approve of all this security...it makes me, well nervous." "No worries to be had sir, just a precaution!" came a cheery, old voice. An elderly gentleman overheard and began discussing the added troops as precaution. Dominique heavily disagreed, preaching civil liberties and the like. Penelope took interest in the soldiers, with white shirts and blue sashes. They looked more like stuffed statues than an intimidating force. But by the Gods their weapons were wonderful! They carried great axes and swords, rifles with curved blades as bayonets. Penelope's personal favorite was a pistol she saw carried by an officer; it had black ivory and looked to be a minuature musket! "Can't sacrifice security for a sound mind, I'm afraid!" finished the man. Penelope remembered the last few moments where the man had firmly reiterated his former position in the Assembly of Defense committee. "With all due respect sir, I've served as a wavetrooper commander for ten years," said Dominique. "Weapons such as these are used for fighting wars, not intimidating civillians." Penelope disagreed, but admired her Uncle for his sudden growth of a backbone.

         The three trudged along with the massive intake of geusts through the castle's corridors. "It certainly smells like a party," said Ansel. He was admiring a series of intricate self portraits on the walls before being shuffled a few feet ahead. Penelope took a look at her fellow party patrons. To her suprise, there were more bizarre outfits being worn than her fathers. Just behind her she could see a man covered in what appeared to be a suit of purple feathers. Two jolly large men to her side wore animal pelts of orange, black, and brown, supposedly from different scores of game. "Oh good mother- Uncle Dom, what is that?" Penelope exlaimed. She shielded her eyes with a hand, but Dominique easily picked out the subject of her disgust. "Penelope, don't be rude," he said. "He's of a different culture and place...Kalanthi, I think." Penelope drew her eye away to look at the man adorned lightly in a belt of bright gold holding a drape of purple around his thighs. It didn't cover much and otherwise left his harshly tanned skin naked. "Have they not heard of clothes in Kalanthi?" she persisted. "Penelope please, of course they have and the younger and older of their people certainly do clothe themselves," said Dominique. He seemed unaffected by the man, or anyone else the were followed by. "When Kalanthi male and females reach adulthood, their clothes are cast off as a blessing-to show their devotion and purity." Ansel caught up with the two, leaning on Penelope's shoulder. "He's right, nothing wrong with that lifestyle. I'd be wearing a lot less if I came from a place as hot as Kalanth. Not to mention, they borrowed all that clothes stuff from Elves...who didn't wear them at all." Ansel giggled, going back to admiring the paintings. "My dear, the world is capable of producing many kinds of people," Dominique continued. "You don't have to understand their way of life...just remember they are probobly thinking the same thing about what you wear and how you walk and talk." Dominique began fussling with his suit, itching his back and pushing the Drazzle aside. You don't seem too comfy about yourself, she thought.

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Penelope found herself tapping her feet to the rhythm of her counting. "Forty seven, forty eight...fiftey." She proceeded with two numbers, counting a twin pair of candle lights that were strewn across the wall. Penelope's brain hurt looking into the candle's flames. The hall was huge, packed front to back with over a hundred and more peoples. Every few steps shone a candle, almost identical to the last. How can a place be so big and yet so boring, Penelope thought. She swore in her head. She'd lost count...again.

"Any drinks children, sir?" Dominique asked. "I'm not a child Uncle Dom!" Penelope said. The waiter shook his head and Dominique thanked him, taking a glass for himself and Ansel. "Uncle Dom, it's just a little wine! I'm old enough to handle alcahol. The Lower children work in the vineyards all the time, some of them even get to take spoiled bottles to their parents." Dominique smiled, taking a sip. "Oh really, these one of your classmates. And on the subject, how does a bottle of wine spoil?" "It dosen't, you know what I mean," she said, fighting her grounds. "And Tommy Barclave and his sister work at one. It's the wine shop off the edge of the cliffs in Seagulls Bay...ask their parents!" "Way I see it, the only thing you have in common with those kids is whining about the wine!" Ansel said. He laughed and Penelope shot him a distasteful look, contrasted by Dominique's arrant smile.

"Ready stance!" The crowd's murmurs died down as the commander's voice boomed throughout the room. "Present...arms!" The white coated soldiers surrounding the crowd moved as one, their swords, muskets, axes, and knives held across their chest. Silence gripped every soldier in the hall as they stared forward. They'd been trained to attack and their honed training would comply on a moment's notice, even at a harmless event such as this. "Welcome citizens and geusts of Euotioa!" came a less authoritative voice from the front. Penelope edged her way to the side; she'd seen the same backside for over and hour and wanted to see another human being's face. "Queen Hageburn is delighted to host you in her humble abode! I am Sigmund Drottle, chief executive of her highnesses Committe of Festive Activities and your captain, shall we say, for tonights entertainment." shouted he. "Gods, he sounds far too enthusiastic for this gig," Ansel whispered. Penelope agreed without question. "And now, the royal crown presents to you, the people of Euotioa, the Ceremony of Steel!" Ever geust faced forward as the large metal doors swung in their direction. The artificial candlelight was replaced with pale moonlight streaming down from the skies. The geusts poured in; Penelope's mood changed for the better with every step they took.



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