The Awakening

I have started this post a couple of times now. Each attempt has left me feeling, well, "meh", for lack of a better word/sound effect. Capturing the majesty of Odin wasn't working and the thought of another 15 posts worth of conversation literally bored me. So, instead, we skip ahead to the next world so the group can hit the ground running. Enjoy!

- - - - 

"I think this one is waking up," said an unknown voice from...somewhere above. The gentle tone resounded with the thunderous roar of an erupting volcano. Following his first retirement, Kysek had spent his accumulated fortune on the best clothes, finest foods, and sweetest wines in an unrivaled decade of decadent debauchery. And never, not even once, had he been in such agony after a night of partying. He cast his mind back to the previous evening, drinking in Valhalla alongside his companions and the gods. Through a muddled haze, he dredges a memory to the surface.

"Moments before the All-Father's arrival, Kysek had pulled up a seat beside Abacus and Foil Hat. “You two have been rather quiet since you’ve been brought here. While this place is far more overwhelming than what you’re used to; the assistance you’ve granted my friends and I has led to this very moment. Hold your heads high and be proud. We could not have picked a more courageous pair of friends.”

Foil Hat shuddered, "These... creatures eat MEAT. It's apalling. I'm not sure that helping them was the right thing to do."

Abacus shook his head at Foil Hat, "Dragons eat meat as well. So do our neighbors in Griffonstone. All beings must eat to survive. But woe betide any of these savages should they attempt to add Me to their menu."

Kysek agreed, "Well said."

The unknown voice spoke again, more softly this time, "We weren't sure any of you were going to awaken, you've been out for quite awhile." Kysek tried to open his eyes but the painful intrusion of light caused him to shut them tightly.

To his left, the elven thief-turned-mage, Knight of the Barrie Grange, heard a familiar voice.

"I feel like I fell asleep with my mouth open and every cat within twenty leagues decided to use it as their own personal privvy," Niklas moaned. "Where is Idunn and her apples when we need them?"

The voices of other strangers began to filter into the room.

"...awake...yes, finally."

"I thought it was a sleeping curse."

"...who they are and where they came from..."

One by one, the pained groans of the other adventurers joined the chorus. Even Grotto, whose tolerance for intoxicating substances is nigh-legendary, shudders under the after effects of whatever liquor Thor gave them... "aged for a thousand years in the barrels built from the wreck of Brunnhilde's fleet..." or something like that... maybe, he thinks. "WAIT! WAS THAT A SINGLE SHOT?!" Appalled, the scarred dwarf pulls his blanket up to hide his embarrassment and pray to Hanseath for forgiveness in private.

Eyelids, dry with the crust from a long sleep, slowly opened revealing a broad hall with a marbled floor, a flat ceiling with dark beams, richly carved. Each of the adventurers lies in a plush, canopied bed with sheer curtain enclosures. Large windows provide access for a gentle breeze that carries the aromas of autumn.

Elves, all clad in light, flowing clothes, surround the beds, each carrying silvered ewers, platters of fruits and cheeses and offer refreshment to the party members. Stomachs rumble at the smell of the simple fare. An older elven woman makes a circuit through the rows of beds, "Eat slowly and take small sips of water - you don't want to make yourselves sick after your ordeal."

Shadow pushes himself into a sitting position, his back protesting the effort it requires, "Ordeal," he asks as he reaches out unsteadily to pluck some sliced apricot from the nearest tray, "What do you mean?"

The woman stops and looks at the black-skinned elf. "You have been unconscious for close to a week. We have been watching over you as you slept. Welcome to the House of Caladon. Welcome to the home of King Lorac of the Silvanesti."