Porphyry - The First Meeting- Chapter 1

******************DISCLAIMER*********************************************
Some of this chapter was stolen from another author, in another game, from another time.
It was used without permission. The rest of the chapters are completely original work.
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Porphyry - The First Meeting

The old sot navigated more or less towards what he thought was the bathroom door. But finding a closet instead, and seeming to decide it probably didn't matter, he was just getting ready to .......WHACK!! went the serving wenches tray across the back of his head, followed by the sniggers, snickers and outright laughter of those nearby. "Get yee outta my closets befores ya finds that ya never has to ever relieves yourself agin". He began to shakily weave his way back through the tables and the few remaining customers. A few of the younger warriors, feeling flush with the power and recklessness of youth began to heckle and hassle the old fellow. Try as he might to avoid their feet and chairs, he soon found himself being pushed to and fro and about and towards the back of the tavern. They continued the taunting that only the careless young can feel so good doing, while looking so foolish in the process.

Another young warrior, but altogether a different sort of person, was seated by himself at the bar and watching this free tavern theater. He even welcomed it as he had nothing better to do, and too much time to get it done in. But he wasn't the type to heckle another, much less one who appeared so unkempt and generally unfit to deal with anything. And even as he was wondering what they would say to the bedraggled and besotted oldster next...some thing odd .... he thought he noticed the old coot flash a bit of a mischevious smile when his taunters weren't looking. Hmmmmm ... maybe the old coot hadn't had as much to drink as it seemed? Or more likely he had too little himself.

The brash tormentors now circled the drunkards table in an effort to amuse themselves more than provoke anything. And in the chaos of their actions and the drunkard trying his best not to get too dizzy from all this activity, his tattered and soiled excuses for cloaks and such were being pretty well jostled about.

"Now what the ....." .... Our young watcher wasn't sure if his eyes were being true to him or not; It almost seemed that when the old sot's tattered cloak had exposed a bit of what was underneath, it shown a dull milky white. But he had seen all sorts of armor including the hide of trolls and giants, the scales of salamanders, and lizard and serpents, and even once the scaly armor that a dragon's corpse might provide. And this was so different from any of that ... And just as he was thinking that surely his eyes had played yet another trick, the drunkards eyes caught where he was looking. As their eyes met, yet another shock - the eyes weren't that of a drunkard, but clear, and penetrating so that he was sure his very thoughts were seen. And just as suddenly, the old sots eyes once again seemed more rhummy than clear.

"Aye ... I must stop this drinking in unfamiliar taverns". And almost as if in answer to his thoughts, the tipsy oldster seemed to flash him a knowing grin.

The tormentors soon tired of the non-sporting challenges of sot baiting, and headed for other adventures elsewhere. And just as our young warrior was about to follow them he heard a solid THUMP, and saw the old sot hit the floor rather hard. Seems the old boy just plain old succumbed to gravity. So instead of making for the door, he turned without even a thought and went to help. It took several tries just to get the old farts seat in the seat, and his arms on the table. Feeling he had done more than his share (for at one point his face came close enough to smell the old fellow's breath) , he turned and started towards the door. Almost immediately, he froze as he heard a strange voice from just behind.

"Well, why don'ts ya ......... axes what ya cames ober here ta axes me?"

He wheeled about and sitting rather stably and straight up, was the drunkard. More perplexing still, his eyes were clear and his voice strong, even though his diction left something to be desired ..

"In the name of King Haborath, what is going on here? One instant you can't even sit without help, and the next you seem fine? Seems like each time I look at you, I see a different person? And what is it underneath those rags you wear? From the grime of your face and hands, it surely isn't the lily white skin of nobility?"

"Hahahaha ........ Well mets in deeds. .... When ya looks at mees, what ya sees depends more on how ya looks . ..... Sorta likes lookin at a lak on a sunny ........ days. If ya looks at any sorts a angles at alls, ya sees trees or sky or birds or whatebers, but ya don'ts sees a lake or fishies or wormses. Ya sees laddie, thems that was befores ya here, they saws only what they wanted ta sees. Maybees onlies what they needed ta sees. But youse ... you at least trieds ta looks straight into the waters ."

"What ale induced nonsense is this? What a man sees depends upon the angle one tilts one's head?" ... noticing that the tavern is mostly empty and that the less the people in the tavern, the less drunken the drunk appeared. "Who are you ? What are you doing here?"

" ......... Ahhhh, good quesshuns alls. But is ya sures ya gots enuff times ta hears the answears? I means ......... What I is doins here is just the sums of alls that I has done befores gettin heres ."

Now the young warrior was actually interested, and somehow off in the back of his head mixed in with the recollections of the previous nights dreams.. a voice was screaming at him. Screaming that he was missing something.

The old coot sorta frowned down at his almost empty ale. Well, maybees I could at least gets parts a yer quesshuns answeared"

At first he thought the old man was joking, but from the tone and expression, he seemed to be waiting for a question. The warrior decided to play the game. "OK, let's do an easy question first, who are you?"

"Hahahaha ... if thas yer easy quesshuns, I may not surbibe yer hard oneses". The old man smiled, " Ya sees, I thinks ya means ta asks me whas my name. An thas a very VERY different kettle of fryin griffy wings than who a man is ..... .... I am called Porphyry ... actuliliies, I am The Porphyry, but whas in a name besides letterses?"

The answer confused the young warrior, or perhaps it was the ale he had been drinking, but out of frustration he decided to show this old man for what he was, by asking a question he couldn't answer. Before he had thought about it he blurted it out. " what is Magick?"
the warriorss head was turned both literally and figuratively, by the beautiful woman that strolled by at that moment and so POR had to speak to break this oldest of the known but unappreciated magical spells that exist betwixt people .... "Ya sees ma boys, magiks is an excuse fer some peoples ta bees scareds of what they wanna bees scards of without unnerstannins. But magiks is a power and knowledges thats ........ maybe it would be better for me to introduce you to the Cherubim ... The Porphyry is likes a mirror, showing peoples what they wants or needs or tinks they wanna sees. Thas a bit of my magiks, and my magicks says search them out.. don't forget the name son.. Cherubim ".

Off in the distance, a bell tolled a wonderfully musical bell that sounded of angels.

Ignoring the bell, the warrior thought on this for a bit, and realized that surely there was far more here than meets the eye. What was a Cherubim? There was far more he would like to hear and learn about. Even if this Porphyry was wrong, and these were just the rantings of an erstwhile old sot. Somehow he couldn't get himself to buy into that thought.. it just didn't ring true. The bell continued it's chimes.

"So, Porphyry. Where did you come from and how did you get here?"

"Ahhhh, er, excuses me laddie, buts ya sees tellin tales is just ........ Such thristy works an me tankard here is nigh well as barrens as Sven's old mare ... sooooo, if ya coods sees yer way ta ....."

"Haw! So thats yer game is it? Fair enough, Fill his tankard wench! ..... But you best make your tale worth the cost. Or you might lose something which you might not yourself realize is so precious to you?"

And now it was Por's turn to look a bit perplexed, but the warrior rescued him almost immediately ....

"Someone like me willing to listen to your tales".


The old man and the Young Warrior Laughed for a long time at that. As the bar wench filled Por's tankard, he inspected it, blowing the head off on to the floor with a smile, and took a long thirsty drink. Setting the ale down on the table, he gained a bit of a stern look, his eyes seemed to cloud up, and he spoke softly as if none else should hear. "It was back before the Searing you see, and life was good..."


~taken from the Cherubim Knight history archive
believed to be a history of the first meeting between Porphyry the First Cherubim Knight.

Although you borrowed the story....it is a nice compliment to the background of the Cheribum and it almost reminds me of the stories that Gunter likes to write!

Thanks for sharing!

Lady H