Inquire Within [Finished]

[Old Gobbo]

Amherst’s feathers ruffled. The question seemed out of place and strange. Too polite and nice? The way she’d said that had made it sound insulting. Still, he would be polite to the girl. Perhaps she was just nervous and didn’t mean for it to come out that way.

“Well, you said it best, not many people know about it, myself included. Although I do understand that their glass pottery is perhaps the finest in the land.”

He looked down at Linnea did his best to make his beak smile. “And, of course, I’ve seen people from the Bog. However, I must admit that I’ve never had the opportunity to make an acquaintance of one, being new to the capital and all.”

He called the barmaid over and ordered an appetizer, fried crickets, then turned back to Linnea. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Do you fear that I would not appreciate a Bog dweller, that I would be turned away at the thought of curses and dark magic? Stereotypes are made to be broken, and most of them are exaggerations at that. I do not look at you and classify you as a ten, a club, a Bog dweller, or a squirrel. I look at you and see Linnea, an inquisitive girl who seemed slightly disappointed that I know nothing about being a Benyan, and capable of quite nice conversation.”

He spread his wings for a second. “Just as I’d hope you would not look at me as a seven or a diamond or a Benyan or a Mid-Ranger, but rather as Amherst.”

[Kari Muffin]

Linnea had no intention of being rude. She just wasn't in the mood to play the typical verbal dance of the Courts and politeness. It was far easier being blunt than worrying about who or what realm she was capable of insulting if she said something in just the wrong way.

"Oh you have seen other people from the bog?" she perked a bit. Not many people had, unless it was in passing, and really she had only seen her family members in the city. "Most people haven't, and most people tend to pop quiz me on my region since I'm not a typical Bog."

Her ears pulled back as the bird suddenly switched gears, and practically verbally pistol whipped her. She drooped a bit, but never particularly lost eye contact with him. Was she that transparent when it came to her curiosity?

"Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason," she said after a moment. "But if you believed in them I'm pretty sure you would have walked away as soon as I asked to sit down. Though I'm surprised that you don't consider me a lowly Club considering you're a Red Suit and most people with red suits tend to have inflated egos. My parents included."

She gave a small and rather pathetic shrug, "Sorry if I offended you with any assumptions, Mr. Amherst."

[Old Gobbo]

Oh dear, that’s not what he’d meant at all. “No, Linnea, you didn’t offend me. In fact, I would say you have done quite the opposite. I’m happy that you see me as an individual, just as I see you.”

He felt bad. His enthusiasm got him carried away and he didn’t mean to berate the girl. Hell, he didn’t realize he had until he saw her face. He felt the need to do something for her, help her in some way. “Tell you what, I know nothing of the Benyan region, but I know some of their culture if you’re interested. My mother was half Benyan and she raised me with some of their traditions.”

At that, the barmaid returned with the plate of crickets and Amherst offered some to Linnea before he took any for himself. “Is that something that would interest you? Or should we talk about something else?”

[Kari Muffin]

A loud sigh of relief escaped her.

Oh good, so he wasn't offended? That made things better. She brushed a bit mane out of her face as she perked up a bit. This was definitely an experience that she was going to file away in her head for later. Maybe she needed more interactions with "real" people outside of the Court. It would probably be good for her.

"It was a little unfair of me to make an assumption that you know about your region. My Dad and Grandma were pretty animate about me learning about the Bog and all the culture there." She took a small lap of her drink. The crickets arrived just then. She paused for a moment when the bird offered her some. She gingerly took one, popping it in her mouth.

Anything tasted good fried.

"Well... since you are from the Mid-Range I do have a question about the realm. Is the steal really amazing as they say it is? I hear a lot of rumors about the weapon smiths there."

[Old Gobbo]

Finally, this was a topic that Amherst had a good deal of knowledge in. Amherst’s father had been most insistent that the young Amherst learn about the metal that his weapons were forged from. In this way, Amherst could tell good alloys from bad ones when selecting his own weapons.

“Linnea, this is something that I can talk a great deal about. The Mid-Range does have superior steel, and it is not only because of our forging techniques, but also from our geography. You see, the Mid-Range is not a volcanic mountain range and was, instead, formed from massive earthquakes when the land was young. This means that there is a distinctly small amount of sulfur in the area. This is good, because sulfur in steel can cause it to become brittle.

“Steel is merely an alloy of iron and carbon, with various other metals added for different properties. We take the iron ore and smelt it into iron pellets. These pellets are then packed into a crucible with charcoal and heated at temperatures of about 4,000 degrees. As the charcoal burns, the carbon it releases blends with the iron and creates steel. The amount of charcoal is carefully measured because you need the right amount of carbon. Too much and you have a strong but brittle steel. Too little and the steel becomes too weak to hold an edge.

“Many of the Mid-Range blacksmiths that I deal with also add in a little nickel, which tends to add tensile strength. This is all heat-treated, of course, allowing the steel to become more ductile and fracture-resistant.”

He took a hold of his halberd and laid it on the table. The steel of the head seemed to swirl in a pattern, much like that of the current of a river. “What results is this. Look at the axe blade. See how the metal is strong enough to hold that edge? This allows me to cleave through the flesh of those that would cause me or my charge harm. Now, look at the spear tip. Note how it is able to bend. The metal is ductile enough to slide around the armor and find a weak point for me to exploit, without breaking the weapon. Now, look at the rear hook. It is not sharp, but it is a hard metal, allowing me to hook this into armor and drag my enemy off a mount or down to the ground.”

He set the halberd back in place. “That is Mid-Range steel.”

[Kari Muffin]

Linnea was more than a little surprised at the amount of information that the bird recited. It was a good thing she was used to her other mother telling lengthy stories without taking proper breaths. This was actually a bit of a cake walk in comparison.

"That explains a lot. I didn't know anything like that about the Mid-Range. The history books like to be vague," she said after a moment of awed silence. "I'm familiar with how your weaponry works. My one Mom has a.... Lochaber axe, I think it's called that. Anyway she's shown me how to dismount someone and horse back and all that, even if I'm not capable of wielding around something so skillfully."

At all really. She could only lift something that heavy with the help of her club ability, and her handling of heavy weapons wasn't very smooth even if she had the manual dexterity a good deal of Cards didn't in their animal forms. "Do you come from a family of warriors?"

[Old Gobbo]

Amherst was impressed. A Lochaber axe was a good weapon, if a bit outdated by some more recent innovations in pole-arms. He would have to meet Linnea’s mother one of these days.

“I do come from a family of warriors, of Guardians in point of fact,” he told the girl with a strong hint of pride in his voice. “The Mid-Range once had a wealth of noble families, though there are only four remaining now. Long ago, a group of warriors protected many of them. They called themselves the Order of the Guardians. The Order was a chivalric bunch, and upheld a strict Code involving the loyalty and duty towards each Guardian’s charge. For centuries, the Guardians were widely considered the best bodyguards and protectors in the entire realm by far.”

Amherst shivered. There was more to the tale, far more, but he did not want to bear the shame of telling it. “The Order does not exist anymore, but my father and his father and his father have kept the Code alive in each successive generation in my family. The Order may not exist anymore, but I am still a Guardian. With all the training, upbringing, and rigidity of duty and loyalty that it requires.”

Amherst picked up a few of the crickets and popped them into his beak. Oh, they were good, just the right amount of crunch. “And how about your mother? She must be a strong woman to carry a weapon such as that? Is she a warrior as well?”

[Kari Muffin]

Linnea's tail curled, her expression perking at the small explanation of the guardians. So he was like a royal guard of sorts. Only it was like one of those stories that Rosemary told her about a secret order of knights and the like.

"That's awesome," she said after a moment. "I mean the fact that you follow the code of the Order, not the part about it not existing anymore. That's kind of a shame." She was curious to know why it had disappeared, but if he was glossing over something that important it might be a taboo subject. And why spoil the mystery? She could always try to find something in the Heart library.

She gingerly took another cricket and popped it in her mouth. So very crunchy. It was still hard to decide if it was good or not. Her slitted eyes blinked a few extra times at the question of her mother. Should she tell him the truth or...?

"Uh... I suppose you could call her a warrior of sorts? She's the Queen of Hearts actually. She's not my biological mother but she adopted me since my real Mom... didn't know about me for a while and she's not around often." Almost Never. She made brief visits, but nothing particularly substantial.

[Old Gobbo]

Amherst almost spit out the sip of scotch he was drinking. THE Queen of Hearts? He was talking to the daughter of the Queen of Hearts?! That changes things, he thought at first, but then stopped. No, it really didn’t. If Amherst was right, that rank, suit, and realm did not a Card make, then neither could the rank and suit of the mother. Linnea was still Linnea, and that was a good thing.

Amherst took a deep breath and turned back to Linnea. “It is a shame that the Order no longer exists, and it also isn’t. Times are made to change. Things that aren’t meant to be are supposed to crumble. Yet, from the ashes and ruins, something greater -- something nobler -- can always be made.”

Amherst settled himself down into the seat until he was eye level with the Card. She had used some odd words when describing her mother, almost as if…

“The Queen of Hearts may not be your biological mother, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t your real mother. Your real mother is the one that holds that special place in here --” and he put a wing over her heart “-- no matter if she was the one who birthed you.”

[Kari Muffin]

It was like being in a novel for a moment as she listened to the bird speak of something greater. Did that something really exist? She could see people trying hard at everything they did and yet they all seemed to get the short end of the stick until they put their ideals on the line. But at least she knew who she was dealing with. A nice man with "good and proper" ideals. She kind of felt bad about lying to him off the bat.

Linnea opened her mouth to respond to his comment about her mother but then promptly shut it. He was right, though he hardly knew about the looks of pity that she got left and right from her wonderful adoptive mother periodically. However she would spare the man the teenage angst and protest. She could do that in her diary or something. "You're right. Really a lot." The squirrel said as she started to run a finger along the edge of her drink glass. "Thank you for not laughing or anything. Most people don't believe me when I tell them who my parents are, and then they connect the dots."

She put stopped circling her finger around her drink when it started making a sound. "Idon'tthink my friend is coming. I might have made a mistake and told him the wrong time."