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Reflections On Your Mother
With no siblings in the house, and my father often away on campaigns, my mother was my life, my main companion and confidante, my teacher. She taught me to cook, to speak, to write, how to behave socially towards others. She taught me to stand up for myself without being overbearing or hostile, how to look after my health. And, of course, she gave me love, warmth, acceptance, reassurance, and belief in my destiny for greater things.
I hope that she is proud of me.
Mysterious Person at the Tavern
I faced across the table a pudgy, bestubbled, shabby-looking man, perhaps around fifty, dressed in clothes that might have been valuable and fashionable a decade ago. After casting a furtive glance around the common room before leaning forward confidentially to speak in a lowered voice, in an accent I could not quite place.
"My employer prefers to remain nameless," he explained, "but you may call me Grizzlejaw. Everybody else does." He gave a self-deprecating shrug that might have been disarming had the rest of his demeanor not been so suspicious. "My employer fancies themselves a patron of talent," he explained, "and they enjoy the conceit of being especially skilled in spotting particularly obscure talent, of being able to sniff out promise and potential where no one else can. They claim to sense such promise and potential in you, and wish to become your benefactor."
I frowned. The affectation of using "they" to hide the number and gender of this would be "patron" aroused in me more annoyance and disgust than suspicion, but I let all that go. I stood to lose little in hearing this man out. "What do 'they' look for from me in return for this generosity?" I asked, in as neutral a tone as I could manage.
"Only that you endeavor to use your endowment to good account," Grizzlejaw assured, "especially with regards to furthering your education and honing your skills in a way that will improve your prospects and status.
"It is possible that they hope you will remember their generosity at a future date, once you have moved up in the world and are in a position to grant favors yourself; however, they explicitly asked me to make clear to you that you bind yourself to nothing by accepting the endowment."
"So," I responded, "no strings attached, then?"
"Only the conditions I mentioned earlier: Put the endowment to good account -oh! And I should have stressed that 'good' here is meant in a moral as well as practical sense. Your aura is apparently part of what has attracted my employers' favor to you. They have no wish to subsidize scoundrels."
I leaned back and allowed myself to relax somewhat. "Alright," I said, "tell me more."
The Beauty of Lady Fluke
O, Lady Fluke, thou hast a face!
That hath a mouth, and hath a nose
There is skin all over the place
And on the top, there's hair that grows.
Of all the multitude of creatures
That show this world their countenance,
There's none that hath the Lady's features,
Of which here I give accountanance
I made that last word up, you see,
For regular words will not serve
To praise the lady suitably
In such terms as she doth deserve.
No one shall lay low Ofeig the Wanderer. I, Ofeig, have died but am alive again! No Lord, no Knight shall be my scourge fer I have returned this 1st time to continue this adventure.