Mataline's Mistake
Transcribed by Garr
As told to Egremora
by Carlos One-Hit
A group of exiles traveled by portal to Fountfell.
The proprietess of the Rockslide Tavern, Egremora, greeted them.
She told us of her past life:
Oh, we all used to come up this way.
For a while it was all tents.
Just adventurers camped out on the edge of the ruin, hauling what we could find back up out of the dark.
(Egremora starts to count the years back on her fingers.)
Egremora ponders, "Well, let's see."
It was before Yamarana got her cats…
Regus hadn't gotten out here yet…
(Egremora tsks.)
Maybe five hundred years back? Maybe a bit more?
Some of the details go fuzzy.
When one of us asked who Yamarana was:
Cat Friend Yamarana, right, she settled down over on the other mountain.
She's good people, she's been in these mountains longer than most.
Whirl wind says, "She seems to be having trouble with her altar."
Oh, well, that's trouble we all been having.
Moon bless her, I love her.
But she was always…"
(Egremora stage-whispers.)
Sensitive.
Fanan asked if she could tell us about altars:
Oh, you know, people will say anything to butter up the tavernkeeper.
I'm retired now. But would you like another drink?
You've just hardly arrived.
Oh, I mostly don't drink much myself.
Makes the tongue all sloppy.
And then she told us a bit about a man some of us had met:
Any of you folks know Big ol' Carlos One-Hit?
He used to come along with me and Mascarr.
Now there's a strong fella.
More like a bison than to most People.
Tail's not all there anymore.
Got a few scars.
Trustworthy. Solid head on his shoulders.
Egremora ponders, "Nice whiskers…"
He was always a handsome fella. Liked having him come along with us.
But it's been many moons since he's been along this way.
Whirl wind asked, "Were you and he....
A healer's oath to the Moon, do not harm, and bless the Moon, I never harmed Carlos.
We had some stories to tell.
Garr asks, "Is he any relation to Sindyth One-Hit? "She used to train our rangers but disappeared one day."
Oh, Sindyth.
Used to be when I visited his place there were always fresh cookies baked just out the oven.
You'd know you'd come to the right place just by the smell, few minutes before you were even in sight of the front door.
Moon above, I do love a man who can bake.
His daughter, well, I love her, you know I do.
Good family, quiet mountain folk.
She always was a leaf to the wind, though.
Knew she was gonna blow away on some great gust of wind.
And so when Carlos (Moon bless his heart),
He settles down in the Valley of the Org and we don't hear from him, he lets some Windspinner take refuge in that house of his?
Can you believe it, bless his big heart, that he goes inviting trouble like that?
Sure enough, soon as he brings the wind in the door like that, his daughter goes and blows away on the next breeze.
That's just Sindyth for you, Moon bless her, and Carlos, heart bigger than his head.
But that reminds me of a story Carlos told me about another little girl.
You all have time for another drink and another story?
She then settled down to tell the story of Mataline's Mistake:
Well.
This is just how Carlos told it to me.
I didn't make up any word nor hair of this story.
Once upon a time the world was peaceful and young, like it was spring all the time.
Green grass and roses, everything tender buds.
This wasn't to last long, however, on account of a little girl.
Oh, she was like any girl picking flowers, making garlands and necklaces.
Moon above, she was a dreamer.
Head in the clouds, she'd dance and dawdle all over this green world.
You'd know her by the chirp of her song—
—like a skylark just chirping away to herself from one hill to the next.
When night fell and it was time for sleep, she'd keep on dreaming.
If her daydreams took her away from this world into flights of fancy, well.
Her night dreams were something else.
She saw things that had been, things that could be, things that would be.
She dreamed herself grown to an impressive young woman—
—tall and stern and held up high like a blazing torch by her people.
She dreamed of other worlds, and she dreamed that she would never die.
(Egremora thinks about Carlos' serious expression for a moment.)
Time passed slowly in those days, with flocks of Org wandering the rolling grassland in contentment.
The girl's family tended them, kept them, and living was easy.
But despite the easy living, she was haunted by her dream of never dying.
She had other visions on other nights — of a moon or a sun, both dark and light or perhaps neither.
Egremora ponders, "Moon preserve me."
Sure as rain in Puddleby, she knew it was the key to her dream.
No longer the carefree girl who'd once wandered the hills—
—one day she stared down into the deepness of a well.
The well was truly deep — almost unto a chasm —
— and she thought she saw a light gleaming in its depths.
Being a curious person, she decided to climb down into that well—
—seeing if she could find what it was gleaming down there at its bottom.
—down from the world above, and into utter darkness.
As she climbed down, she closed her eyes, and she began to dream.
Soon she found she was flying on wings like a bird—
—and flew right up to that dark moon sun.
For sure enough, it was down at the bottom of that well, and she'd found it.
(Egremora looks around the room, nodding.)
She'd brought her pocket knife with her—
— so she cut of a small piece of the dark moon sun and put it in a bag and tied it up tight.
As soon as she cut into it, horrible cries wailed up from the world all around!
The darkness itself gave chase.
No winged shadow could match pace with the girl's wings—
—and she flew out of that darkness right back into the world of grass and sun and and stars and moon.
She'd escaped, and no shadow followed.
She hid the bag with the dark moon sun in the safest place she knew—
—a secret cave behind a waterfall.
(Egremora looks around at the sober crowd.)
Your ears look dry.
Have another drink!
Where was I?
Oh yes, she'd hidden it somewhere safe.
Somewhere secret.
Now that she had the key, she had time to think on her dreams.
Eventually, she realized what she must do.
Now her family, they tended the Org.
And you'll remember that time moved slow there.
Part of the peaceful quality of that place. Nothing happened too quick.
So the girl, she led the Org down to a pool at the base of the waterfall.
It was a nice place to bathe and splash and relax.
She led them there with their favorite treats — little bits of dried up mushrooms that she'd gathered.
While they bathed and splashed she climbed up to that cave and opened the bag.
The light of the dark moon sun shone out —
Her dreams had shown her that it would shape the Org—
Into something greater than they were. Something that could walk through time without time moving.
Sure enough, they became greater.
They grew tall, like a man, and walked on two legs—
—and in their single eye burned a smoldering intelligence.
The Orga — for that's what they were now —
looked at her with unbridled anger and hatred.
Now transformed, they could see that they had been no more than servants — tools, really.
With their newfound insight, they wanted nothing more than freedom from servitude.
Knowing they would never be free while they lived with the girl and her family, they rose up.
They burned. They destroyed. They made war.
And the girl understood that she had not seen truly.
But it was too late.
For the Orga drove her people out of their home, and Mataline, for that was her name—
—is remembered as a symbol of those fools who believe that they know best.
That's the story Carlos told me, and he'd know.
He was there in the front, when we drove off the Orga, and he saw the glint in the Orga's eye.
Something both dark and light, or perhaps neither.
Whirl wind asked whether the piece of moon sun disappeared:
Egremora ponders, "Disappear?"
I can tell you're new round these parts if you think anyone ever let a powerful thing rest.
* * *
The following zodiac, she told us the story of A Mother And Her Children.
