Declutter | The Carnival
Foreword
The Carnival
Nathan McHale let out yet another yawn before rising from the red lazy boy chair that had nearly pulled him back into a deep slumber. Thankfully, the sound of the coffee maker beckoned to Nathan and, like any addict, he simply could not ignore his drug of choice. He glanced at the stove clock, sitting at the far end of the kitchen he had spent the last 30 years using, and saw the green numbers 0400 shining back at him. It was nearly time to leave.
Nathan freed the hot glass from it's burner and split the black gold between a red and green thermos. He then moved the glass to an empty sink before preparing the two brews to their consumer's delight. He poured milk into the red thermos before adding two generous spoonfuls of sugar to it. He smiled to himself. After all these years, he still prepared a cup of coffee how his father had done. In the green thermos, he added a sweet vanilla cream and triple the amount of sugar he had put into his own thermos. With a hearty stir, both drinks were properly mixed. Now it was time to retrieve the owner of the green thermos, Nathan's younger brother James.
James was still deep in slumber, having an action packed dream of slaying dragons and the witches who rode them. He was moments away from delivering the killing blow before several loud knocks ripped him from the fantasy. His brown eyes shot open and his hand instinctively reached out for the throwing knife that sat on his bedside dresser.
“Hey! Disarm yourself!” Nathan ordered, ready to dodge or catch the blade at a moment's notice. James let out several quick, frightened breaths before he placed the weapon back down. “Seriously? When have you actually needed that?”
“Y'know... when spies are around,” the man said with all sincerity. Nathan gave a wide grin before chuckling.
“Spies? In Millerstown? In your own house?” He said as he scratched his beard, the black being overran by grey.
“You never know!” James defended before letting out a long yawn. “Is it time to get going?”
“Just about. I got coffee made for you. Get dressed,” Nathan commanded before closing the door. He walked down the long hallway, grabbing his caffeine as he passed the kitchen and turning to head out into the sun room. Robins tweeted as they flew about the back yard. They typically took up residence underneath the raised deck that Nathan stood on. He savored the hot drink as it rushed over his tongue. He let out a sigh of appreciation for all that he had.
“Ready when you are, Nate,” James called out as he took a step into the sun room, breaking the tranquility that Nathan had found. Nathan turned to face his brother and gave him a frown of disapproval.
“Couldn't find your uniform?” he asked, motioning towards the grey sweatpants and hoodie James was wearing.
“Really?” James questioned, surprised this was something that bothered Nathan. “Just cause you're old, doesn't mean you have to enforce Dad's rules.”
“Someone has to keep tradition alive,” Nathan countered, glancing down at his own outfit. He donned the uniform of his father's company: a hooded, burgundy cloak with the stone tower insignia stitched on the back, a white dress shirt covering enchanted chain mail and leather trousers. “Let's make a bet.”
“There's no way,” James said with a smile. “None of them are gonna be wearing it.”
“If at least one person in the party is wearing the uniform, I get to choose where we stop for breakfast.”
“And if no one is then you have to treat us to Sammie's Griddle.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.” The brothers sealed their agreement with a handshake before clacking the back of the knuckles together. The boys then walked back through the house, heading towards the flight of stairs that would lead them out into the city they resided in, Millerstown. At the bottom of the stairs sat four suitcases and two, large backpacks that were bursting at the seams. Everything the boys would need for their month long journey to the annual Carnival happening on the opposite side of the country. With some difficulty, the boys gathered their luggage and locked their childhood home. They proceeded down the flight of cement stairs, placing their heads against the wooden carving of a bear that sat at the bottom, and traveled south down the sidewalk. They would walk for about fifteen minutes before they would be standing outside The Grand Guild Hall.
Like most cities on Atlas, Millerstown operated on the guild system set up years after the Drake Wars. The Grand Guild Hall was the meeting place for such guilds. The Guild Masters worked restlessly, accepting and issuing behests made by locals and foreigners of all walks of life. The Gilded were the courageous and ambitious people that decided to fulfill the behests in exchange for varying riches. The riches were offered by the patrons, and varied widely based on the difficulty of the task and how much coin was willing to be paid out. At present, the McHales did not have any interest in taking on a new behest, though they were not ones to shy away from lining their coffers. The hall also served as housing for Gilded equipment and vehicles. That is where “The Fortress” sat for Her owners to return.
“The Fortress” was a camper a bit larger than the size of a bus and sported a green paint job. Around the windows was a bright gold trim that matched the horizontal bar that ran down the side of the automobile. On either side of the car, She proudly declared Her own name. At the moment, she sat alongside many of her sisters, waiting to embark on a new journey.
The brothers traveled mostly in silence, save for the occasional sip of coffee they somehow managed to carry alongside all of their luggage. James thought it was far too early for conversation and Nathan was focused on the task at hand. After what quickly became an agonizing fifteen minutes, the brothers stood outside the lot that their mobile home waited in.
“Morning, Ollie,” Nathan said, setting down his suitcases and stretching out his back.
“How we doing, boys?” the large man asked. He stood next to a guardhouse that controlled a parking barrier. Ollie was wearing the Guild Hall attire that countless other workers donned; a white button down shirt and matching slacks imbued with powerful enchantments. On the back of the shirt were twin golden pillars – the symbol of the Hall. On his waist sat a standard issued, double edged claymore.
“Hey, Ollie,” James said in between breaths. “How you been keeping our baby?”
“The old gal is just as ancient as you left Her,” Ollie joked before letting out a belly laugh.
“C'mon, man. She can't be more than sixty,” James replied back.
“In this day and age, that's ancient,” he let out another quick laugh. “What can I do ya boys for? Thinking about taking Her for a spin?”
“We're headed to the Carnival,” Nathan answered. “The whole party will be heading out.”
“Ah, how lovely,” Ollie replied, marking some boxes on the clipboard he was holding. “Y'all waiting around here until the others get here?”
“Yes, sir,” Nathan said. “We're hoping for a 0600 departure.”
“Care to make a wager?” the man asked with a wicked grin.
“You know I do,” he responded with a similar grin.
“I bet you a twence that Alton is the first to show,”
“Oh, I'll take that all day. Meagan will be the first to show,”
“I don't mind getting in on this,” James spoke up.
“That leaves you with Siobhan, Jimmy,” Ollie said with another chuckle.
“She'll pull through for me this time. I got faith,”
“Alrighty, then. You boys are welcomed to get Her ready, of course. Just be back with my money once Alton gets here.”
“Thank you, Ollie” Nathan replied before hoisting his bags again and leading the way to the sleeping camper. With the click of a key, the sliding door squeaked open and allowed the boys entrance. Four steps led the brothers up to a hardwood floor that spread throughout the vehicle.
At the top of the stairs was a brown sliding door that lead to one of two bathrooms aboard this vessel. To the right was the cock pit where two leather seats sat in front of a large windscreen. The left was the driver's seat and had all the controls one would expect of a vehicle. The right seat was for the navigator and, as such, had a panel that would slide out of the front console. This panel would display a virtual map of the camper and it's surrounding area. Towards the rear of the vehicle, immediately left of the bathroom, was a small eating area that could easily house six or seven people. A round, white table sat in the middle of booth style seats. Behind the cushioned seats was a large, tinted window that gave an excellent view of everything.
A little further down from the eating area was a kitchen. The small cooking area consisted of a fridge, quick reheater, and a stove. Opposite the stove was a long couch with the same red leather seating as the eating area. A beam attached to the ceiling separated the two “rooms” and served, more importantly, as a mounting wall for three TVs and a couple video game consoles. Further down was the sleeping area. To the immediate rear was another sliding door that led to a large bed. On either side of the hallway leading down were four sleeping units. These units didn't consist more of a cot and a pale purple curtain for privacy. Traditionally, the party leader would take the main bed, but Nathan was not one to keep luxury all to himself. Besides, he would be spending most of the time driving.
The McHales offloaded all of their luggage. Packed away were adventuring items such as potions, bladed weapons, emergency rations, emergency lighting and the works. They also, of course, carried enough civilian clothing and hygiene items to last them well over four months inside the camper. It was a product of how their father raised them, he was one for over preparing and neither son could ever learn how to not follow that example. James took up residence on the long couch, powering on one of the televisions to briefly watch the news to see if anything major was happening before switching over to early morning cartoons. Meanwhile, Nathan was conducting the inspection of the “Fortress”, ensuring She was road worthy.
A few miles away from The Grand Guild Hall, Meagan was just beginning her morning routine. She had just finished watering her plants and felt almost bad that she'd be leaving them to tend to themselves for awhile. Just as she finished pouring water into a pot, her kettle began to loudly whistle for her to come pour the scalding water over some homemade tea. After nearly jumping out her skin, the gal moved quickly to her apartment's stove top and removed the heat. She rub her green eyes while she waited for the tea to seep. Her mind decided now was a perfect time to become reflective of her current situation.
She grew up with the McHales. Her parents died serving the Guild Hall when she was ten. Despite losing her caregivers, she never doubted that the Gilded were supreme heroes. She kept herself near the Hall, accepting whatever charity the adventurers decided to gift her. Oscar McHale, leader of the Knox Company, was the most charitable of all. It was a late night when he was locking up “The Fortress” with Ollie when Meagan was spotted by the older gentleman. Having been raised on honor, chivalry, and an overall sense of good, the man refused to allow this homeless orphan to continue to beg for help. After a hearty scolding of some other party leaders, Oscar adopted Meagan.
It had been a good 18 years since then. Now the woman found herself working for the very family that took her. She, of course, had been raised to be a Gilded just as her adoptive brothers were. Still, Meagan couldn't help but scoff at the idea of now adventuring with the boys she used cause mischief with. With a sigh and a smile, she drank her tea and moved about her two bedroom apartment, making sure nothing would burn the place down and making herself decent. Meagan, much to James's delight, would not be wearing the old company uniform. Like a dutiful soldier though, she made sure it was packed and pressed, should she need to represent. On this chilly morning, however, she donned a black pair of spandex, some hiking boots, and a pink overcoat. She braided her red locks, slung her explorer's bag over her shoulders, and began to walk to where her party was waiting.
In the far East of Millerstown, the stout Alton was completing his own morning ritual. He was the eldest of the Knox Company's Gilded, having nearly fifty years of life weighing on his soul. He was also, arguably, the physically most imposing of his guild mates, despite his height. Strong muscles were attached to his arms and legs, having been condition over the many years he worked alongside Oscar. Alton was almost like an Uncle to the McHale boys, being one of the original members when their father got his start.
The man was outside in his quiet little garden, kneeling in front of a stone sconce that served as a memorial. His brown eyes were closed and he held a large hand over his heart, his palm resting against the brown leather jacket he wore. The only sounds that surrounded him were bird calls and the gentle trickle of water that was occasionally punctuated with the wooden sound of a deer scare. On the other side of his tiny creek was a well groomed and loved garden that he had finished harvesting a few hours before the sun rose. He would be bringing his produce along with countless ingredients, spices and secret family recipes. With a heavy sigh, the man finally rose from the ground, wiping off a few blades of grass from his jeans, and placed a gentle hand on top of the sconce. Without a word, he turned back into his single floor dwelling to gather up his gear that was nearly as old as he was. Alton lived alone, having not fathered any children nor remarrying after his wife's passing. Since saying good bye to the last of the original Knox Company, Alton had taken on a vow of silence – his own way of keeping the dead in his thoughts.
After a few moments, he had gathered up all of his materials, gear and weapons into a red wagon. With a hearty pull, he dragged the cart behind him towards the Grand Guild Hall.
In the far South of Millerstown, Siobhan was still enjoying a deep slumber. She was the youngest member of the Knox Company, being a few years behind James. She laid on a messy twin bed with blankets and pillows thrown every which way. Her long black hair stuck to her face, her mouth open and her snores filling her bedroom. She would've slept well until noon if it had not been for the sudden, loud ringtone that blared from her phone. She quickly sprung up to a kneeling position and glanced about her room, blowing a few of her strands from her face. She then glared down at her desk where the small device was vibrating against the wood. She hopped from the bed and scooped the device up, seeing that James was calling her.
“Jimmy... why...” she answered, her eyes half opened and her voice groggy.
“Vonnie, where are you?” James whispered.
“In my room...” she answered, rubbing the sleepiness from her blue eyes.
“We're leaving for the Carnival today, I need you here,” he quickly explained.
“I'll get there eventually...” she stretched, annoyed that James robbed her of the few minutes longer she could've slept for.
“Do you wanna split sixty coins? I bet you would get here first and-” James explanation was cut off by Nathan's shouting.
“Who are you talking to?” The older brother called out. The call then disconnected and Siobhan was left with a desire to ignore James and go back to bed. But the possibility of a thrence was far too enticing. With a deep yawn, all of her fatigue seemed to fade away as she ran about her room and boarding house – gathering up whatever she thought she would need for the journey. She tossed clothes with reckless abandon into a duffle bag, her personal items into a rucksack, and slung her short sword over her shoulder. She quickly shoved her pistol and holster into her slacks before charging to the bathroom to make sure she was somewhat presentable. She tied her hair back into a bun, revealing that the sides of her head were shaved and gave her appearance an approving nod. She didn't bother to change out of her long night shirt and chose to cover up with a large hoodie. She rushed out the door, running pass her house master, Catherine.
“Where you off to so early, Vonnie?” she asked as she continued to water the plants that surrounded the stone staircase Siobhan nearly fell down.
“Carnival! Thrence!” she shouted incoherently. Catherine gave her a quizzical look and watched the girl race down the sidewalk towards the Guild Hall. With the shrug, the house master returned to her duties, unfazed by girl's shenanigans.
James, instead of enjoying the comfort of early morning cartoons, was now sat outside on the hard pavement with his hands bound by a rope behind his back.
“C'mon, Nate. Lesson learned,” he pleaded with is older brother, who had just finished pumping additional air into the tires of the “Fortress”.
“You broke the rules, boy,” Ollie called out with a disapproving head shake.
“Yeah, but surely it doesn't matter at this point, right? What more harm could I do?”
“Because that's your point,” Nathan said, capping off the tire and stretching. “is why you are staying tied up until Meagan shows.”
“C'mon, the old man has a clock he runs on,” Ollie argued, still holding hope out for Alton to be the first.
“You forget one crucial thing,” Nathan argued, motioning his head towards the entrance way of the parking plaza. Ollie turned his head and sighed in defeat. “Meagan lives closer.” Nathan smiled as he rose a hand to wave at her. His sister smiled and waved back, jogging over to where the “Fortress” rested.
“Can I be free now?” James asked, trying to stand up. Nathan nodded to Ollie as he walked towards Meagan to help her with her bags. Ollie slightly drew his claymore and sliced through the binds behind James.
“Good Morning, Mae” Nathan called out, reaching out to take her bag for her.
“Morning, Nate,” she returned. She looked passed him at James getting untied. “Why is Jimmy tied up?”
“We had a bet,” Nathan chuckled. “Who would show up first? He tried to call Vonnie to get her here quicker.”
“So who won?” Nathan returned a sly grin before turning and walking her to the trailer.
“Hey, Mae,” James called, rubbing the rope scars from his wrists. He stood and gave the girl a hug.
“Hey, Jimmy. Ollie,” she gave the dock master a head nod. He returned the gesture.
“I'm going back to my shows,” the young man turned but was blocked by Nathan standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He held out a hand, giving his brother an expecting look. James slung his head, reached into his pocket and gave Nathan the note. “But hey – she's not in uniform.” James pointed at Meagan.
“Another bet?” she asked with a scoff.
“Who would wear the uniform? If at least one person did, I win,” Nathan explained with another sly grin. Meagan looked from brother to brother before scoffing again and retiring to the “Fortress”. “Ollie!”
“I know, ya goblin!” the man shouted back. Nathan shrugged and headed over to his old friend.
After a few more moments, Alton's hulking frame came into view beyond the gate. James had returned to the “Fortress” and had challenged Meagan to a fighting game, desperate to feel like a winner again. Nathan had remained outside to greet his companions. He spotted his chef and headed over to help the man with the numerous supplies he brought.
“Good Morning, Alton,” he called, giving the man a pat on the shoulder. Alton responded with a head nod, and looked pass his leader to the “Fortress”. Nathan followed his eyes. “Meagan and James are here, just waiting on Vonnie like always.”
Another head motion and a look of realization was Alton's respond. He then raised a hand and waved over at Ollie. The dock master looked disappointed but waved back. Alton scrunched his brow into confusion.
“We had a bet who would be first to show. You were Ollie's pick,”
A head nod and a motion of his hand for the two to start walking to the “Fortress” was his response.
“James also bet me that not one person would wear the uniform today,” Nathan responded, looking over Alton's clothes. Alton did the same and gave Nathan a knowing smile. The two men started to unload the wagon when a loud screech stole their attention. Nathan instinctively placed his hand on his six shooter but gave pause when he saw that it was Siobhan making the ruckus.
“Alton beat me!” she shouted, as she ran over, her chest heaving from having ran the entire way here. “I ran here for nothing!”
“Good Morning, Vonnie,” Nathan said with a laugh. Alton gave the girl a head nod before raising his arms to block her harmless hitting.
“You cheated me out of a thrence, Al!” At her shouting, James had quickly descended the stairs, desperate to see his friend and, more importantly, if he won their second bet.
“Yes!” he shouted, looking from Siobhan's relaxed outfit to Alton's street clothes. “Sammie's here we come!”
“Hold on, Jimmy,” Nathan said with a wicked grin. “What were the terms of our bet?”
“No one is wearing the uniform!”
“But!” Nathan boomed, quieting down his brother. “Our terms were that, and I quote, “If a single person in our party is wearing the uniform” - he paused to motion towards his own attire.
“No!”
“Word for word! Pay closer attention to the contracts you agree to!”
“I-” James stopped himself and huffed off to the “Fortress”.
“And that was?” Siobhan asked between breaths.
“A bet on where we get breakfast,” Nathan explained. “Hope you're hungry for Ava's”
“Oh, absolutely,” she responded. “Way better than Sammie's” she walked passed Nathan and huffed her belongings into the camper. Alton gave Nathan a congratulatory pat on the back before they took a few more minutes to finish loading the cart into their mobile home.
“Hey, Ollie!” Nathan called out while Alton joined his guild mates. The dock master glanced over. Nathan produced a pocket watch and read the time. “0600!” Ollie scoffed and waved both hands towards Nathan. The man smiled and closed the door to the “Fortress”, ready to discuss the itinerary with his crew. He could feel the excitement for this adventure begin to build in his heart.
Backword
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