Editing Around the Dinner Table (section)

===Wine===
It was remarkably cold in Elton when he appeared within the teleportation circle located outside the gates. Despite being closer to the equator than Cimmer and Thess, the winter winds coming off the Serpentcoil Mountains made the town colder. If one could peer through the massing clouds this evening, one could see the snow-capped peaks off to the north.

Wyncit burrowed deeper into his overcoat and started walking to the nearby town gate. Elton was either a small city or large town, depending on who you asked, that snaked along both sides of the Eleanor River with picturesque multi-story wooden buildings and flowering plants that followed the stone built river bank.

It was an ideal location for one of the more famous restaurants on Syra.

It was a short walk along the stone pathway to the gate of the walled town. Somewhere in the history of the town the walls and gates went from defensive to decorative. Intricately carved across their lengths with scroll work and flowing vines, and painted with a bright whitewash, the walls were the envy of most towns. "Just don't expect them to stop an orc tribe," someone had once told Wyncit.

The wide gate itself was bright red and open. Two guards in ceremonial uniforms of red and white, armed with bright breastplates and halberds, stood on each side of the gate. One nodded to Wyncit as he past through.

'No entrance fee?' Wyncit thought as he past under the gate's archway, which was marked by an abundance of murder holes. 'At least they have those.'

Once within the town, there were several horse drawn carriages waiting for customers, showing the teleport circle was more used than Wyncit initially thought. Wyncit took the first one, the gnome driver nodding when he asked to go to the Hearty Harvest Inn. The inside was comfortable and clean, and the ride smooth with well sprung wheels. 

The carriage stopped out outside a row of five story beam and stone buildings and Wyncit got out. He turned to face one of the buildings after paying the agreed five copper and studied his destination. The front of the building faced the street and winding river behind Wyncit, and was painted the same as the walls of the town: white and red. What would be fragrant, flower-laden vines during any other season grew from the upper windows' planters and cascaded down. Bright lanterns already lit the outside from the approaching darkness. Above the closed door, written in flowery Common tongue script, was "Hearty Harvest Inn and Restaurant."

He entered and was assaulted with wonderful kitchen aromas. The large common room was filled with a scattering of round, white clothed tables and chairs of different heights. The walls were panelled in dark wood and gleamed with their coating of bees' wax and varnish. Driftglobes of different colors drifted near the ceiling. The room was already half full with diners. There were three opened doors at the back.

Directly in front of him was a young blonde woman of human and elf descent in a black dress.

"How may I help you, sir?" She asked in a friendly tone.

Wyncit smiled and suppressed his normal reaction upon meeting a beautiful woman. After spending months in the jungles of Palmheart with several women, he knew his natural response was sometimes overpowering and unwelcome.

"My name is Wyncit Sutler. I am here to see Tony Child." 

She smiled and her face lit up with pleasure. It was difficult, but he refrained from responding in kind. "This way, please."

Wyncit followed her through the far right back door, which turned out to be the stairs going up to the floor above. At the top they entered as small room with a halfling male seated behind it. To Wyncit's right was another open door into a hallway. He quickly figured out the opened doors allowed the smells of cooking foods to drift up into the rest of the inn. He was getting hungry.

"Herman, this is Sage Sulter, one of Master Child's guests," the woman told the man. And with that, she turned and went back down the stairs into the common room. With another smile.

'Hmmmm,' thought Wyncit as he directed his gaze on the man.

Herman smiled and got up from his chair. "This way, please Sage Sulter. There is already one other here."

The hallway was of the same wood as the common room below and had a few closed doors lining one side while a few windows, covered with heavy drapes, lined the other. Herman walked him to a middle door, knocked, and quickly entered. Inside was a large white room with a white clothed circular table in the center. In the center sat a scattering of liquor bottles, wine decanters, and a glass water jug. Around the table were padded chairs. On the far side of the room, with a window on each side of it, sat a lit fireplace and bare tables along the wall on each side. To the left of the door, standing in a corner, was the back of a rather large grandfather clock. Seated on one of the chairs, where both table and windows could be seen, was Mae, dressed in a flowing robe of yellow and green silk. Her hair was brushed back and tied.

Mae was, of course, reading a book. On the table in front of her sat a small wine glass of white wine. The book was unmarked but bound in red leather and rather thick. She marked the page and placed the book off to the side before getting up.

"Hello Mae," said Wyncit as he entered. Her smile was one of happy surprise.

"Hello Wyncit," she responded.

"Sir, would you care for something to drink," asked Herman, directing Wyncit's attention to the drinks in the center of the table.

"Whatever Mae is having is fine," Wyncit answered.

Herman closed the door and picked up a folded step stool that had been hidden by the open door. He walked to the table, opened the stool, stepped up, and stretching out retrieved a clear, wide-bottomed decanter of white wine.

"Oh," said Mae, frowning. "I could have done that, Herman."

"All part of the service, Lady Govannen," he said. Taking an empty tall wine glass, he carefully, and theatrically, poured the white wine halfway. He then leaned over and replaced the decanter in the center of the table.

Wyncit shrugged his shoulders and took a seat directly across from Mae.

Herman walked the glass to Wyncit and placed it in front of him, then waited. Wyncit smiled at him, then picked it up and twirled the wine within the glass, watching how it shifted colors and clung to the side of the glass. With a quick smell of the fragrance, he took a small sip. He sucked in some air and rolled the liquid in his mouth, getting the feel and taste of the wine.

It was dry, fruity and very pleasant. 

Wyncit looked at Herman, "Thank you, Herman. It's lovely."

Herman nodded and said, "Master Child will be with you in just a bit. He is finishing your dinner selection for tonight. If you need anything, I shall be at the desk."

And with that, Herman left, closing the door behind him.

Wyncit looked over to Mae. "This is one of yours?"

Mae smiled and sipped from her glass.

"Any idea where Brecca is?" He asked.

Mae waved an arm around just as the door opened. "She is around. Probably ransacking the basement."

"I beg your pardon, I do not 'ransack,'" replied Brecca as she entered. She was dressed in woolen leggings and and a plain oversized linen shirt. And pink house slippers.

Mae smiled. "Loot? Steal? Investigate with extreme prejudice?"

Brecca flopped into the closest chair to the door, leaving it open behind her.

"I'll take that last one," Brecca said.

Mae nodded.

To Wyncit, Brecca said, "Well, here I am. What?"

"Let's wait for Tony. What I have to say needs everyone here. And it's easier to say it once. I suspect I'll have to repeat it, anyway." Wyncit reached over to the center of the table and retrieved a pitcher of dark yellow liquid and passed it over to Brecca; who had to lean over to receive it.

"What?" She asked.

Wyncit shrugged his shoulders and passed a wine glass. Brecca pour the liquid into the glass and took a cautious sip.

"Mead. Dwarven. I've had better," she muttered.

"I think not!" Tony marked as he came in, closing the door behind him.

Tony was larger than he was last Wyncit last saw him. Tony liked to taste his own cooking, Wyncit guessed.

"That is made from the honey of giant bumblebees that only feed on blackberry pollen. Then it's aged in seared oak casks for 10 years before being bottled in blown glass bottles, which are then corked and waxed and then aged in their bottles for another five years." Tony sat between Wyncit and Brecca.

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. We'll start off with something light, soup and appetizers. Then see how people are feeling," Tony continued. Looking around the table, he gave a large smile. "Well. First time that we've all been together in over a year. What has everyone been doing?"

"Adventuring," Brecca said.

"Researching death magic," Mae said at the same time.

"Teaching and writing," Wyncit said over the other two.

Tony nodded and smiled.

Brecca looked at Wyncit. "Tony is here. What?"

Wyncit rolled his eyes as Mae pointed at the clock in the corner and asked, "Tony, is that the clock we found in the tombs?"

Tony leaned back in his chair, frowned, and crossed his arms as he glared at the clock.

"Yes." 

There was a small silence as people waited for Tony to continue.

When he didn't, Mae asked, "Why is it facing the corner? Has it been bad? Is it being punished?"

People waited as Tony stared at the clock and frowned.

Brecca opened her mouth but was interrupted by Tony.

"I tried animating it to move it to where I wanted it in the main common room with the intention of putting it back together again. It was going to be the main decoration in the room with everything else to support its art. But when I cast the spell, the clock refused to follow my directions. Instead, it walked upstairs, came in here, and stood in the corner, facing the wall. No matter how many times I cast the spell and ask it to move downstairs, it refuses and stays put."

Tony continue to glared at the clock.

"Maybe it wants to go back home," Mae asked delicately.

Tony grunted.

"Maybe its guilty of something and is punishing itself," asked Wyncit.

Tony grunted. Mae and Wyncit looked over at Brecca.

"What? It's a clock. It doesn't have any feelings," she said.

Mae tsked Brecca and Wyncit signed.

"So. Tony is here, now. What did you have to tell us?" asked Brecca.

Wyncit took a sip from his wine glass to collect his thoughts as the others looked on.

Taking a deep breath, Wyncit started. "There is a possibility that the souls from Acererak's phylactery are still 'alive.' Including Leardon's wife, my grandmother."

There was a pause as Wyncit took another sip of wine. Brecca broke the silence. "How? The last time we saw the thing it was drifting in the deep Shadowfell, falling apart."

Wyncit shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But some things have been happening the last ten days that make me think it survived."

Mae broke in before Brecca could question Wyncit more. "You generally have evidence, or at least reasonable deduction, for your hypotheses."

Tony leaned over and poured himself some water and took a quick drink. Wyncit waited until he was finished. "Ten nights ago I started dreaming. I thought it was my unconscious self telling me something. I started thinking about it, but then the next night I had the same dream. The very same dream."

Brecca broke in and asked, "I have dreams all the time. What was the difference?"

Wyncit nodded. "I dream every night. I generally forget them when I wake, but this dream was different. The colors were more vivid, the dream more intense. And, as I said, I had it the next night. In fact, I had it eight straight nights. No change, nothing different. Everything was the exact same thing as the night before."

Mae broke in next. "It sounds like a dream message."

Tony frowned and turned to Mae. "Dream message?"

Mae nodded. "A type of sending magic. Instead of just words, one can send images, emotions, thoughts. But creatures that live in the Ethereal Plane can also send dreams." Mae turned to Wyncit. "Who sent this dream?"

"And what was this dream?" asked Brecca.

"Let me describe the dream to you, then I will try my hypothesis and see what you think," Wyncit asked.

The others nodded and waited.

"So," Wyncit started, "This is what happens in the dream..."

''I float weightless in darkness. All is dark, except directly ahead of me where a brilliant light shines. I can't tell how far it is or what it is. As I look, I seem to get closer. Whether it's me or the light moving closer, I can't tell. But closer it gets until it stops. It seems I can reach out to touch it, but it's still out of reach. It's the phylactery. It shines from inside, the multifaceted crystal holding the souls glowing from within. It shines in brilliant colors of the rainbow. It tumbles just out of reach. I can hear the screams of fear from the souls. I can taste the cold ash of the Shadowfell. As it tumbles, a black shape moves in the distance, moving quickly towards me. It passes between me and the phylactery. Against the shifting light of the crystal, I can tell it's a huge black raven. Its black feathers quickly disappear in the darkness of the Shadowfell. Suddenly, from behind me, a raven screams. It pierces my heart with dread. I shudder in real fear, I feel a wind as the raven come from behind me and swallows the phylactery in its blackness. Once again, I am in total darkness. I float there. For seconds or hours, I can not tell. Then, once again, in the distance I see a light. It is feeble. Small. And again, either I or the light fly closer to each other. This light is a standing figure. It's an old man, his skin stretched tight against his skull. The figure's back is bent with age and he leans against a walking stick of ebon wood. His clothes are black, shredded and aged. The light he gives off is weak and barely shines in the darkness of the Shadowfell. I can tell he stands at the edge of a chasm, though. He looks at me and speaks. He speaks in the voice of Leardon. "I did not know," he said to me. I can barely hear him. "But now, I have learned the truth. I pray it is not too late. She can not be trusted." As I listen to him, he starts to turn to dust, starting at his feet and whisked away by the cold ash wind of the Shadowfell until just his skull is left. "Warn them!" Then his skull disappears into ash as it too is swept away by the wind. It is all dark, again. I float there. I can feel my life drain away in the bitter cold. And then, once again, off the distance I see another glow of light. It stands where Leardon once did. It is dim, female in form. It seems to look at me and calls out. I can barely hear her. "Free me," she calls. Her voice sounds as if it is behind a barrier of some sort. I reach out to her. And then I wake.''

Wyncit quickly drank the rest of the wine in one deep gulp.

"Each night for eight nights, the dream is the same... Except the soul at the end. Each night, at the end, it was in a different pose. But still calling out, 'Free me!'" 

There was a long pause in the room as they took in what Wyncit had said. Suddenly, the door was flung open.

"Dinner!" yelled Herman as he walked in.

"Gods," Tony cried out. "Way to spoil the mood!"