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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Auction! The Lost Statue of Vallorian Lake


Katzaniel

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Thanks to all who voted in the description polls, and of course also to our participating authors. The permanent description of the Statue has been decided thusly:

 

The voice of the elder was quiet, barely a whisper and as he began his tale he kept looking around nervously to see who was listening.

 

"This, my boy, is Valorian Lake.  The first time I came here, I came like every other adventurer--I was looking for the Lost Statue of Valorian Lake.  You probably know all the rumours that every other curious young man knows, but I'll tell the ones I know.

 

--The lost statue is a woman, a very beautiful woman.  If you rub the arms of the statue..." 

 

Here the teenager stifles a giggle.

 

"Ack younguns!"  The old man's voice sounds as much amused as annoyed though.  "No, we were definitely only supposed to rub the arms.  I don't want to know what you kids imagine.  As I was saying!

 

If you rub the arms of the statue then she will appear.  She is a demi-god and may smite you down, but enough worshipping and she will lend you her skills or perhaps will fall in love with you.

 

--Another rumour was more trite and simply said that if you find the statue and perform some proper invocation then a elf/leprauchaun/spirit etc. will appear and take you to the treasure.

 

--A third tale said that the statue was not a woman at all, but a monster.  Beware recieving the statue for it is a curse on its owner such that while one owns it he will never truly believe that others love him and yet he will know that this is because of the statue.  No one may get rid of the statue but to his  own child and yet that will bring the same doom to the child.

 

I set out to discover the truth, but unlike most of the other seekers I could not afford to stay in the inns that have cropped up by the lake.  I stayed in an old woman's house.  She was kind but secretive and I went out of my way to befriend  her.  At first, I was simply being greedy and hoped that I could get the lonely woman to stay at her house more cheaply.  Quickly though she began to interest me and I would go to seek her out for her own sake. 

 

Sometimes, and this was how she seemed when I first met this woman, Belle-Lee.  Then, she seemed like a simple peasant grandmother.  Kind, even cookie baking she would take an interest in me and tell me the lore and supersitions of the hills.  However, I think that this was either a fake personality or an ephemeral memory of the way she used to be, because once I finally told her that I was just another treasure seeker I never saw this personality again.  I wanted her to think me unusual or interesting and the locals never have any interest for those who come to seek their fortunes and the Lost Statue of Vallorian Lake.  When I told her why I had come her whole body jerked.  She almost hissed.  I knew that she had a secret, but I assumed first that I had only invoked a memory of some other treasure seeker, perhaps a lover who had come to grief.

 

She had many moods though, and it was always foolish to presume the thoughts of Belle-Lee.  Sometimes she was such a secretive loner that if I even spoke to her she would turn on me with...incomprehensible fury.  She would ignore me if not spoken to, but when she was in these moods she would make every effort to encourage me to do something else far away.

 

At other times, she scared me but in a much more friendly way.  For instance, sometimes while cooking in her huge pot or while telling me lore she would seem almost godly.  As I listened to this woman I knew that she was correct--whatever she predicted would come true and whatever advice she gave was law.  Her disapproval would drive a man to frenzy and her wizzened features were an object to reverence always.

 

She never stayed that way long though.  In the end I always try to approach her too closely and she drives me away.  Afterwards she is distant to the point of cruelty.  No matter how many chores and favors I do it is never enough to even earn her slightest approval--though she demands the work in large quantities.  Demanding and noble, the lady terrifies me in these moods, because I would do anything for her."

 

"Who are you speaking of?"  The boy seems somewhat alarmed now.  "Weren't you going to tell me what you found out about the Lost Statue? You said you would tell me how to find it!  And, that lady--she was just an old ha...lady anyway right?"

 

As his teacher turns on him his mood is almost vicious.  "Have  you not been listening?  YES I am telling you the tale of the Lost.  Do you not see?"  He sighs.  "I did not either.  I did not either."

 

It was in one of her more kind, teaching moods one day.  Belle-Lee asked me what I knew of the Statue and I told her those three rumours that I had told you.  They were all three so different and yet they all interested me.  When one talked to those who seemed to know something then one of those rumours was always the base of what they said.  When I told her the first one she smiled, when I spoke of the second rumour she laughed, but when I mentioned number three she suddenly became deadly serious. 

 

And I quote her 'Yes, they are at least  somewhat true.  The Lost 'Statue' of Vallorian Lake indeed features a woman of somewhat godly powers.  Maybe she was even once foolish enough to fall in love with one of her seekers. 

 

The second one is mostly fiction but she does bring a sort of knowledge to those who seek her.  I do not suspect it is worth the pain, but if you wish knowledge of anything at all she can tell you...if you ask her in the right mood.

 

And for the third...yes, there is much merit in that tale as well.  Whoever finds the secret of Vallorian Lake is cursed for he or she will never love anyone besides the Lady.  No one will truly reciprocate your love, though in her way, the Lady appreciates it.  Indeed  you are a doomed creature, but eventually you will find your successor.  Just as some loved teacher of yours told you to stay at my lodgings while you searched, you will point someone else in my direction ...either obliquely or plainly.'

 

What? I asked.  I had begun to guess what she was saying, but I did not accept it.

I was sitting at her feet at the time and she looked truly regal as she stood up and threw her knitting at me.  'You poor FOOL do you still not understand?  I am the Lady of Vallorian Lake.  I embody the statue and you are the most recent of the doomed who have worshipped me."

 

The boy's face was horrified. "I must find her!! How could I not.  She knows everything--she will make my fortune.  I must see her as soon as possible!  Where is she?"  He shook himself, realizing.  "And so quickly am I caught."

Now is your chance to make this, uh, woman your own. Okay, so I'm not sure how it works IC but certainly the right to use this creative idea in your own stories is worth some geld. Bidding to commence - now!

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"Hrm," mutters Horace, pulling out her coin purse. "Um." She moves around a few of the golden discs in it absentmindedly. "This would easier if I had any idea how much these were worth..." She looks up at the woman on display, runs the story through her head again, and promptly leaves the auction room.

 

Horace makes a beeline toward the cabaret room, glances around, and enters the Swap Meet. People there would probably know the worth of gold, but wouldn't necessarily view her as competition.

 

"How much do I have here?" she asks the red dragon-ish creature who had sidled up beside her with a friendly gleam in his eye as soon as she pulled out the purse.

 

"Ohhh, not enough, I ssshould sssay." He grins at her politely.

 

"I don't want to buy anything here," Horace tells him. "Just to ..."

 

"Sssay no more!" he interrupts her. "What you clearly want is that rock, jussst 25 geld." He gestures toward a stone on the other side of the room. The man standing near the rock gives the dragon an odd look. "Well," he looks at her hand, and his eyes light up with eagerness. "You don't have quite that much, but I'll give it to you for what'ss in your hand, jusst for being sssso pretty."

 

Horace smiles at him, thanks him, and leaves. "Wait!" he calls, but she rushes back to the auction. Not quite 25, she thinks, looking down at her hand. Then, reaching the room, she calls out, "21!"

 

That ought to be enough to cover it. If he bids again, she can always go to 23. Surely "not quite 25" meant at least 23.

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Venefyxatu watched in amusement at Horace's confusion and muttered appreciatively when he heard her increasing the bid just a little. He opened his pouch and rummaged through the coins with one finger for a few moments.

 

When he was done doing so, apparently satisfied, he looked up and nodded at the auctioneer to increase his bid to 22.

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If Horace was smart, she might have pretended to lose interest at this point. Or tried to wait until the last moment before bidding again. Or at least looked confident when she made her final bid. But, as has been mentioned numerous times and proven beyond doubt, Horace is a few colours short of a rainbow.

 

"Erm... 23?"

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