FLATLAND: Prologue
SAMUEL FLETCHER
Ought-Seven:UE (Unasian Era)
By the age of thirty-seven, Samuel Fletcher had cheated death more times than he could recall, thanking Olidammara at every opportunity.
Taken from his village and pressed into military service at 15 years old, he’d come of age during a violent and lawless time, spending his next fifteen years fighting in the Thousand Years War – first as a capable soldier defending the northern regions of Flatland, then an unprincipled spy for the highest bidder, as kingdoms fell and borders shifted and original disputes were long-forgotten.
At 30 years old, the War finally ended when the barbarian King, Unas, successfully united the continent under Heironeous’ blessing and a hopeful era of peace was dawning, leaving him homeless and unemployed. Lacking an overt enemy to fight, or a covert one to undermine – and denied his family’s legacy of craftsmanship by destiny – he traveled south and west for the next five years, raising toasts to Olidammara and offering exaggerated tales of wartime feats in every village and town he passed through, while witnessing firsthand the great reconstruction of Flatland.
In the winter of Ought-Five:UE, Samuel reached Port Raleigh, a small city on the southwestern coast of Flatland, and in less than a year had charmed his way into the hearts of the Stoutbrewer family by way of their youngest daughter, Larisaa. Posing as a bard, he’d taken up residence in the Stoutbrewer Tavern & Inn and quickly became a popular figure, sharing his embellished tales of war and intrigue. Thanks to its strategic location, Port Raleigh had stood relatively unscathed over the last two hundred years of the war and its residents marveled at Samuel’s unimaginable tales of danger and destruction.
The Stoutbrewers were as close to nobility as Port Raleigh’s landless merchant class could get, but were infamous for their passion for the common man, going so far as to offer free communal lodging to the transient after-hours on the main floor of the Tavern. The cynical would sometimes point to the fact that many of these transients would later become missionaries for St. Cuthbert, of whom the eldest Stoutbrewer son was a cleric, but even they could not deny the family’s overall generosity of spirit.
And none could ever deny the quality of their ale.
Larisaa was the last Stoutbrewer anyone would have guessed to take over the family business. At nineteen years old, she’d never shown an interest in the business or the craft, preferring to indulge her imagination and pursue her dream of a career in the theatre. For her, Samuel’s tales were a heady brew, stronger than anything her family crafted, even their infamous St. Cuthbert’s Cudgel – an ale so potent that the Stoutbrewer Tavern was the only human establishment in the city to have a regular crowd of dwarves patronize it.
Within two months of Samuel’s arrival, Larisaa knew many of his more popular tales by heart and one night had gotten up the courage to offer to supplement his telling of her favorite – the mostly true story of his mission to infiltrate the inner court of the war wizard of his benefactor’s arch-nemesis, who turned out to be both female and a double agent. (He’d stopped claiming King Unas as the benefactor a couple of years prior, after being accused of unnecessarily extending the War with his duplicity and, thank Olidammara, barely surviving the free-for-all that broke out.) Larisaa portrayed the war wizard, Patricio, with a zeal that impressed everyone present, especially Samuel. At the end of the tale, Patricio and Samuel share a passionate kiss and Larisaa improvised the already edited tale by taking the lead, catching Samuel off guard and gaining her father’s attention.
It took a week to convince Graven Stoutbrewer that he was a bard only in the most literal of definitions and possessed no magic with which he might have entranced his daughter.
It took six months to convince him of the genuineness of his desire to marry Larisaa, who had inspired his storytelling to new heights as they’d begun to enact full-blown epics based on the War to great acclaim from the Tavern’s growing clientele. He had a found a muse, as had she, and together their talents were blessed by Olidammara with the ability to fascinate and inspire others.
When they wed in the fall of Ought-Six:UE, the crowd that attended rivaled that of the largest ceremonies of the nobility of Port Raleigh.
The following summer, Larisaa gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Graven and Leonore, named after Larisaa’s father and Samuel’s mother.
Three months later, in the winter of Ought-Seven:UE, Samuel Fletcher sat tied to a post on the main floor of the Tavern, eyes blackened, mouth bloodied and at least three ribs broken. His head was pounding from the beating and he felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness.
To his left lay the body of the elder Graven Stoutbrewer, dead, his head dangling by its hair from the hand of the large man standing to Samuel’s right.
He knew where Larisaa and the children were hiding but dared not let the thought enter his mind.
Over thirty-seven years, Samuel Fletcher had cheated death more times than he could recall and he’d thanked Olidammara at every opportunity for the frequent reprieves. As he whispered another prayer to the Laughing Rogue through swollen lips, he wondered if his luck had finally run out.
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