Hallsassring’s Journey: The Story of a Nossring - Chapter 6: A Walk to the Park
Photo by Micheile Henderson on Unsplash
Hallsassring’s Journey: The Story of a Nossring
Chapter 6: A Walk to the Park
Robin McEntire, Flying NightBear Games
The IGDN blog is the work of its members to explore its diverse membership from all corners of the tabletop industry, tackling every subject under the banner of tabletop roleplaying games. Today’s work is an exploration of pure and unabashed fiction, reminding us that games inspire us to write fiction, just as fiction inspires us to write games.
Hallsassring and Shwolan had been walking and talking for some time now. She was still grateful to Shwolan for saving her from a fight that most likely would not have ended in her favor.
To her surprise, Hallsassring discovered him to be good company. He knew Tarnath well and its inhabitants even better, and he was happy to tell her about all of it in great detail. Hallsassring appreciated the avalanche of information -- the more she knew, the better her chances of saving Alliss from a terrible fate, and making those who took her pay the price.
Shwolan frequently interrupted his strolling soliloquy to nod to a passerby or stop for a quick conversation. Hallsassring was amazed at how effortlessly polite he was, and how carefully deferential folk were to him. They bowed respectfully and he always returned the bow, though never as deeply. She noticed that their eyes flitted past him to observe her, seemingly curious to know who this stranger was at Shwolan’s side.
He did not introduce her to anyone, although after the conversation had concluded he often provided Hallsassring with a quick rundown on those they just met. He was polite - no gossip or untoward tales - and frequently included their place in Tarnath’s society, a subject that seemed endlessly on his mind.
As the two of them continued their stroll, the streets changed. Where they had first met (a neighborhood Shwolan called the Western District) the streets had been rough and dirty, as if the soil from the nearby farms was slowly invading its neighbor, leaving dark brown smudges on its buildings and a covering of thick dust on the cobblestone streets.
The streets quickly became cleaner and more well-kept. Where earlier there had been butchers, fishmongers, smithies, and coopers, there were now weavers, clothiers, and fancy pastry shops. When they stepped in front of an elegant clothing store Shwolan excused himself and slipped through its front door, returning in a few minutes with a package wrapped in light brown vellum and string.
“Just a small something I am picking up for my sister,” he said, before Hallsassring could ask. She nodded her acknowledgement, suspecting there was more to the story than that.
Shwolan pointed to a tidy old stone building a few doors down, and told Hallsassring that it was a part of the ancient, original town. He explained that long ago Tarnath had been only a small, insignificant village here in the Sessmaryth Valley, and that it became something much larger due to the ambitions of an ancient ruler named Samron. The instant Hallsassring heard that name she spat on the ground and cursed. “Monster!” she cried, loud enough to be heard by those nearby.
Shwolan stopped, momentarily stunned by her unexpected eruption.
Hallsassring was equally surprised by her loss of composure and her inappropriate outburst. The Nossring Nation had known Samron’s savagery and his lust for power only too well. Even now, centuries after his downfall, his name was an obscenity on the tongue of every nossing.
She looked into Shwolan’s eyes and said to him, “His crimes cannot be forgiven, and I will not apologize for cursing that name!” She could see an understanding, and perhaps even approval, grow in Shwolan’s eyes.
Returning to his imperturbable self Shwolan responded calmly, “You are not wrong, my friend. We can call him nothing less than a ‘monster’ for what he did. For the atrocities he committed against your kingdom and mine, and so many others.” He leaned down closer to Hallsassring’s ear and in a softer voice whispered, “There are those, however, even on these civilized streets, who look back with fondness on the Tyrant.” Looking closely at her he added, “I am not one of them.”
As quickly as he had spoken, Shwolan righted himself. Several tall, well-dressed creatures hailed him as they approached. He instantly returned to his charming, gregarious self and left Hallsassring’s side to hail them with a chipper salutation.
Hallsassring was still upset by the mention of the ancient tyrant Samron, and was not paying complete attention to the creatures with whom Shwolan was talking. A quick glance, though, told her they were of the Ishiri race. They had stone-like skin and on top of their heads a medley of what looked like slim, colored gems rather than hair.
Her mind was filled with the atrocities committed by Samron that she had learned about in her youth. He was horror who hungered for power and had been willing to do anything to achieve it, including hunting down and destroying entire races of folk and other creatures of the world. The worst, of course, was his decimation of parts of the Nossring Nation. The memory of those atrocities would never be forgotten by her or by her fellow nossring.
Hallsassring pushed away these thoughts. She must stay focused, she told herself, and not allow herself to be distracted.
She turned toward the group that Shwolan was talking to. Several dwarves had joined the discussion, and the volume increased noticeably. She was just sizing them up, focusing on what they wore and how they spoke, when Shwolan conveyed his good-byes and returned to her.
“Folk who work at the City Council,” was all that he offered in the way of explanation. He seemed reluctant to say more, and changed the topic to some of the unusual architecture in this part of the city.
They walked and talked for a while longer, and the tour resumed its casual tenor. Before long, though, Shwolan delicately turned the conversation back to the ancient Emperor, not using his name this time. He glanced at Hallsassring to gauge her reaction, and seeing that she remained unperturbed, he continued.
“You clearly know the story of this evil…” he hesitated, “...creature. As we all know, he nearly came to dominate the entirety of our beloved Tamarran Continent.”
Hallsassring nodded in assent, and remained staring ahead. This seemed sufficient for Shwolan, who went on. “We all know that he established the Central Guilds in order to control all the folk of the Tamarran Continent. He made use of the Channels’ abilities to manipulate the Six Energies, and rewarded them with these elaborate houses, built for each Guild here in Tarnath, in the area we now call Guild Square.
The construction was elaborate, and excessively luxurious.” He paused for effect. “The elegance was meant to disguise the fact that each House was an Energetic fortress, complete with Energetic weapons and guards. The armaments of each house corresponded to their type of Energy: Emotion, Mental, Body, Physic, Spirit, or Shadow. Some of the defenses were a part of the construction of the building itself. Other powerful artifacts were inside the houses. Some are known to those of us who study these matters, but many are closely guarded secrets known only to the most powerful members of each Guild. We suspect, though, that many have been forgotten even by their own Guilds.”
Just as he finished describing this bit of history, the two turned a corner to find themselves at the edge of a large open plaza. His timing was impeccable: before them was the Guild Square that Shwolan had just introduced.
The Square was awe-inspiring in its beauty. Six streets converged around a spacious hexagonal park, filled with a panoply of flowers and trees. In the center was an immense sculpture of six imposing figures, dressed in great flowing robes and holding what looked like devices of power.
From where they were standing Hallsassring had a clear view of the entire square. The sight was overwhelming, and Shwolan was clearly pleased to see how struck Hallsassring was by the grandeur that lay before her.
“Yes, it is the most beautiful place in any city of the Tamarran Continent,” he said. “Even finer than any of the architectural wonders of Naldrin City - and there are many such wonders in that place.” His gaze was fixed on the square. Though Hallsassring could not see it, her guileless response had renewed his own sense of wonder.
Shwolan sighed, and looking down at Hallsassring he announced, “Here is where we part, my new friend. My destination is there beyond the Square. And yours is just down this street.” He pointed to the street to their right. “You cannot miss it. It is well-marked and you will see many folk who, like you, are making their way there.”
Before Hallsassring could respond, Shwolan said, “Hallsassring, I have found you to be a good listener, a talent whose benefits are not always appreciated.” She got the feeling he had experience with this. “I am sure that we will see each other again. Until then, enjoy your time in our great city, and may good fortune walk with you.” He gave a short, courteous bow, which Hallsassring returned with her thanks for serving as her guide.
He waved that off as if it was nothing of consequence, and proceeded, “If you like, you are welcome to mention my name to Bill. You might find that helpful, and so might Bill.”
With that, and a last elegant bow, Shwolan departed.
Hallsassring watched as he walked away, tirelessly greeting the folk he passed.
She then turned to her own destination. It had been an interesting day and there was still more to come. Much more.
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