Stories from The Rift
Text Box: FIRST ARRIVALS (FIVE TO SEVEN YEARS PAST) Father Downs and Relindyr Father Downs sighed heavily as he looked down at the sodden lump of an acolyte lying in the bottom of the basket snoring. “Why me?!!” he thought, “my position was secure in the temple and I was moving up and then I’m assigned Luther, this drunken devotee of the Alewife.” It might have been acceptable. The priest might even have been able to beat the boy into shape, but for his shenanigans at the local tavern. Seducing the serving wench, indeed! Now, the good priest was assigned to the Rift, indefinitely… or at least until Luther finished his training and could be cut loose. Well, at least the journey down was spectacular: the six inch diameter cable was smoothly lowering the huge ten by ten basket as the rising sun shone through the curtain of falling water. The rays fell upon Luther’s face, his nose twitched and he let forth a stupendous sneeze followed immediately by a superhuman effort from the other end. The confined space filled with the most amazing stench. The dignified cleric was further disturbed to hear a high elvish tittering from behind him. “Your boy is quite a card, Downie, isn’t he?” said the diminutive elven mage Relindyr. “There’s a man who knows how to enjoy life! Not like this young giant here. Aramel my protégé: Smart? Assuredly! Good looking? Of course. But does he ever laugh?! Does he ever drink?! Does he ever entertain?! Oh, no…always business for him. I had to come up with this “field trip” nonsense just to pry him out of the scriptorium so he’d get a little air and sun.” The elderly priest sighed again as he craned his neck to look up at the promising and dignified young man. At 6’9” he certainly was a giant, though a painfully slender one. He was already starting to get a scholar’s hump. Maybe the loud and crass little elf was right. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but think that the gods were somehow having some fun at the two teachers’ expense, giving each of them a disciple who so well fit the other in demeanor. At last, the hour long descent was coming to an end. Father Downs and Relindyr looked over the edge to see Captain Kramin below ready to meet them with two of his men. As Relindyr, looked down, a movement at the edge of the forest caught his eye, “What’s Waite doing….? Before he could finish his thought the basket gently thudded to a halt and Captain Kramin greeted them: “Your tent is prepared as ordered, gentlemen” and ushered them off to the camp. Relindyr never did finish the thought…