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thessalianTo Varius Li Halan, Solita Li Halan sends greetings.
Well, brother mine, this is not exactly what I bargained for. In all technicality, my little pilgrimage hasn't even started yet -- I haven't even got to Rampart yet, and it's all Cousin Gregorius' fault.
Well, not entirely, I suppose, because ... well, it's all very complicated. It all started when my bodyguard (Lt Ethan Vorkosigan; have you heard of him at all?) and I got to Barter on that Hawkwood transport. They were going to pick up one of the Hawkwood nobles, who was apparently in some sinkhole on Barter for no good reason that I could see. While we were waiting for the Hawkwoods to finish their business (because of course it would have been rude to not pay my respects to someone who might, at this rate, become family some day), the Hawkwood's confessor turned up carrying copious quantities of alcohol and leading a string of about a half-dozen half-naked prostitutes of both genders. Both were, apparently, destined for the Hawkwood, but when the Hawkwood guardsmen bundled the said Hawkwood noble out wrapped in a sack (so I didn't get to pay my respects in the end, but saw an interesting bit of street theatre, if you want to call it that), the monk tried to hand the prostitutes over to the guardsmen. It was ... well, all frankly rather silly. In any case, the monk (a Brother Adso of Melk) was at loose ends and I neglected to bring a confessor along so, since it is a religious pilgrimage, I thought I'd engage his services. As a monk, not as a ... whatever you call someone who fetches cheap liquor and even cheaper prostitutes, which he was apparently only doing because the said Hawkwood noble threatened to use the said monk the way he would otherwise use prostitutes. Or something. I think I may have saved Brother Adso from an irredeemable state of sin; aren't you proud of me?
I've been terribly helpful; I also managed to make the bodyguard's job a little easier. I met an old acquaintance of mine, a minor noble called Sir George duLac, and as he was somewhat dubious of someone of my stature travelling with such a small retinue and seeking some religious solace of his own, he volunteered to come with us. He's something of a collector of weaponry and a consumate gentleman, so of course this presented no difficulty, and I have Lt Vorkosigan and Brother Adso to protect my virtue and reputation.
We've hired a small vessel on semi-permanent retainer; the captain seems unconcerned about how long we hire her ship so long as she gets paid and it doesn't get blown up. She was actually very decent about having to go out of her way when we were approached by one of Cousin Gregorius' servants. Do you remember Cousin Gregorius? Second cousin twice removed, or something, via a few marriages and maybe a death? He was at my debutante ball and I was sort of afraid I was going to be one of those sleazy types but it turned out that he was far too busy atoning for the sins of our forefathers to entertain such crude thoughts? Something like that, anyway? In any event, he heard we were in the sector and asked us to please come to his moon and do him a rather large favour. Family obligations; what can you do?
It turns out that he wanted us to raid some tomb on some other moon in that particular system for an artefact from the Li Halan's demon-friendly days. He insisted that he was just too fat to take on the expedition himself and didn't trust anyone else to do it; afraid that this artefact he'd found would fall into the wrong hands, namely those of the bloody Scravers. Did I mention I hate Scravers? Bloody vultures. In any case, he wasn't taking no for an answer so I had to divert to this other stupid moon and go digging around old tombs. Cousin Gregorius didn't send us along with any help whatsoever; just gave us maps and things (well, gave Brother Adso maps and things) and shooed us off. I personally think he was too scared to undertake the expedition rather than simply too fat, because there are some very strange things in the big Li Halan tomb to which he sent us. For starters, the frescos and reliefs on the walls are absolutely horrible and not the sort of thing I should be seeing, I should think, and there's horrible demon statues covered in blood.
Actually, it's all getting rather confusing. I know you're going to say I'm mad but we got to this catacomb and we saw two dead Scravers and a lot of spent shell casings on the floor, although the bodies were (according to Brother Adso) only just cold and we hadn't heard gunshots at all, though we should have. That's not quite the mad part; the mad part is that when I went to examine them a little closer, the dead men got up and tried to throttle me. So let me state for the record: thank you so very much for teaching me to shoot something besides a hunting rifle. I think I may have shown up the bodyguard a little. And please don't blame Sir George or Lt Vorkosigan for letting me get into that situation because there were strange airborne drugs involved and one of the dead men was trying to kill my monk.
Then we ran into more Scravers -- living Scravers, at least. Bloody vultures. They refused to go away and let me look for the silly family artefact in peace but I think I had a better idea of what to look for than they did (and I just hope they don't find it first, because that would be a terrible stroke of bad luck, from what Cousin Gregorius told me) so my retinue and I swanned off in what we were pretty sure was the right direction.
I'm running out of page so I'll stop here for the time being. I will say, though, that I don't like Scravers, I don't like tombs or catacombs, I'm really not all that fond of demons, and dead things getting up and trying to kill me is really an overrated experience. Oh, and if this Hawkwood man I'm supposed to be marrying is anything like Brother Adso's charge, I'm running away from home.
Hope all's well with you. Love to Mother, Father, Faust, Marcus and Adalrico.
Well, brother mine, this is not exactly what I bargained for. In all technicality, my little pilgrimage hasn't even started yet -- I haven't even got to Rampart yet, and it's all Cousin Gregorius' fault.
Well, not entirely, I suppose, because ... well, it's all very complicated. It all started when my bodyguard (Lt Ethan Vorkosigan; have you heard of him at all?) and I got to Barter on that Hawkwood transport. They were going to pick up one of the Hawkwood nobles, who was apparently in some sinkhole on Barter for no good reason that I could see. While we were waiting for the Hawkwoods to finish their business (because of course it would have been rude to not pay my respects to someone who might, at this rate, become family some day), the Hawkwood's confessor turned up carrying copious quantities of alcohol and leading a string of about a half-dozen half-naked prostitutes of both genders. Both were, apparently, destined for the Hawkwood, but when the Hawkwood guardsmen bundled the said Hawkwood noble out wrapped in a sack (so I didn't get to pay my respects in the end, but saw an interesting bit of street theatre, if you want to call it that), the monk tried to hand the prostitutes over to the guardsmen. It was ... well, all frankly rather silly. In any case, the monk (a Brother Adso of Melk) was at loose ends and I neglected to bring a confessor along so, since it is a religious pilgrimage, I thought I'd engage his services. As a monk, not as a ... whatever you call someone who fetches cheap liquor and even cheaper prostitutes, which he was apparently only doing because the said Hawkwood noble threatened to use the said monk the way he would otherwise use prostitutes. Or something. I think I may have saved Brother Adso from an irredeemable state of sin; aren't you proud of me?
I've been terribly helpful; I also managed to make the bodyguard's job a little easier. I met an old acquaintance of mine, a minor noble called Sir George duLac, and as he was somewhat dubious of someone of my stature travelling with such a small retinue and seeking some religious solace of his own, he volunteered to come with us. He's something of a collector of weaponry and a consumate gentleman, so of course this presented no difficulty, and I have Lt Vorkosigan and Brother Adso to protect my virtue and reputation.
We've hired a small vessel on semi-permanent retainer; the captain seems unconcerned about how long we hire her ship so long as she gets paid and it doesn't get blown up. She was actually very decent about having to go out of her way when we were approached by one of Cousin Gregorius' servants. Do you remember Cousin Gregorius? Second cousin twice removed, or something, via a few marriages and maybe a death? He was at my debutante ball and I was sort of afraid I was going to be one of those sleazy types but it turned out that he was far too busy atoning for the sins of our forefathers to entertain such crude thoughts? Something like that, anyway? In any event, he heard we were in the sector and asked us to please come to his moon and do him a rather large favour. Family obligations; what can you do?
It turns out that he wanted us to raid some tomb on some other moon in that particular system for an artefact from the Li Halan's demon-friendly days. He insisted that he was just too fat to take on the expedition himself and didn't trust anyone else to do it; afraid that this artefact he'd found would fall into the wrong hands, namely those of the bloody Scravers. Did I mention I hate Scravers? Bloody vultures. In any case, he wasn't taking no for an answer so I had to divert to this other stupid moon and go digging around old tombs. Cousin Gregorius didn't send us along with any help whatsoever; just gave us maps and things (well, gave Brother Adso maps and things) and shooed us off. I personally think he was too scared to undertake the expedition rather than simply too fat, because there are some very strange things in the big Li Halan tomb to which he sent us. For starters, the frescos and reliefs on the walls are absolutely horrible and not the sort of thing I should be seeing, I should think, and there's horrible demon statues covered in blood.
Actually, it's all getting rather confusing. I know you're going to say I'm mad but we got to this catacomb and we saw two dead Scravers and a lot of spent shell casings on the floor, although the bodies were (according to Brother Adso) only just cold and we hadn't heard gunshots at all, though we should have. That's not quite the mad part; the mad part is that when I went to examine them a little closer, the dead men got up and tried to throttle me. So let me state for the record: thank you so very much for teaching me to shoot something besides a hunting rifle. I think I may have shown up the bodyguard a little. And please don't blame Sir George or Lt Vorkosigan for letting me get into that situation because there were strange airborne drugs involved and one of the dead men was trying to kill my monk.
Then we ran into more Scravers -- living Scravers, at least. Bloody vultures. They refused to go away and let me look for the silly family artefact in peace but I think I had a better idea of what to look for than they did (and I just hope they don't find it first, because that would be a terrible stroke of bad luck, from what Cousin Gregorius told me) so my retinue and I swanned off in what we were pretty sure was the right direction.
I'm running out of page so I'll stop here for the time being. I will say, though, that I don't like Scravers, I don't like tombs or catacombs, I'm really not all that fond of demons, and dead things getting up and trying to kill me is really an overrated experience. Oh, and if this Hawkwood man I'm supposed to be marrying is anything like Brother Adso's charge, I'm running away from home.
Hope all's well with you. Love to Mother, Father, Faust, Marcus and Adalrico.
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 07:18 am (UTC)