Anthology - Once Around the Realms

The man strode forward, and said, "My friends, welcome to Maztica."

THE LAND ACROSS THE SEA or Viva Maztica!

"Maztica," Volo repeated.

"Yeah," Curtis interjected, "that's what the man said."

"Somehow I didn't think we were in Kara-Tur anymore," Passepout added.

"Maztica?" Shurleen repeated the place's name, though this time as a question. "Where is Maztica?"

"It's on the whole other side of the world," Volo explained. "It's on the other side of the Trackless

Sea, farther than fabled Evermeet. It was colonized a few years ago by conquerors and settlers from the Empire of the Sands and the island kingdom of Lantan."

"I see you have heard of our fair land," the man who welcomed them replied in impeccable Common.

"And you are originally from Faerun, the Empire of the Sands, I would guess," Volo continued. "A former soldier, I would say, though apparently one who hasn't seen much action or physical work in the last year or so."

"You are a most excellent master of the powers of observation," the man replied. "What is your name?"

"I am Volothamp Geddarm, master traveler of all Toril," Volo announced proudly.

"I have heard of you," the man replied, "and your guides, but surely you are not writing one on the continent of Maztica."

Volo chose his worlds carefully.

"No, not at the present time, though I'm sure I will get around to it one of these days. At the present time, I and my friends are engaged on a world tour, you might say," Volo explained. "We sort of made a wrong turn in Kara-Tur, passed through a portal, and came out here."

"Uh-hum." Shurleen cleared her throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Volo apologized. "This is the lovely Shurleen Laduce Bleth."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Shurleen said to the handsome gentleman, offering him her hand.

He graciously accepted and kissed it. "The pleasure is mine," the man replied.

"And this is my good friend, Passepout," Volo continued.

"The thespian," Passepout clarified, "son of the famed thespians Catinflas and Idle."

"Honored," the man replied, giving the thespian a firm handshake.

"And our traveling companion, and jack of all trades, Curtis," Volo concluded the introductions.

"Curtis," the man repeated, with a faint nod of his head to the young beachcomber.

"And you are…?" Curtis inquired, a trace of insolence in his voice.

"I am Rurk," the man replied. "The, urn, governor of Phantasia. That is what we call this settlement."

"What settlement?" Curtis asked. "All I see is the edge of a desert and a rocky ridge."

"True, true," Rurk replied, "but beyond that ridge lies Phantasia, a land worthy of your wildest dreams. Come. You shall be my guests. Herve, run ahead, and tell the servants to ready the guest quarters."

"Yes, boss," the halfling replied, scurrying ahead through a pass in the rocky ridge.

"Herve is my right-hand halfling, you might say," Rurk explained. "Part interpreter, part manager, he helps me keep things running smoothly and minimizes the troubles with the natives."

"He is a native?" Volo asked.

"Well, yes and no," Rurk explained. "He is a native of Maztica, but from the lands north of here, where I first landed when I came here. He was hired at our camp to take care of certain menial duties and took quickly to the Common tongue. I hired him as my interpreter, and when duty called for me to come south, well, obviously he came along."

"I see," Volo replied. "What was the purpose of your mission, coming south, I mean?"

"Questions, questions," Rurk replied, shaking his head in dismissal. "There is plenty of time for questions later. Even the loveliest desert flower will wilt if left in the sun too long, and I have no desire to subject Miss Bleth to such a risk. Follow me. It is only a short walk to my humble dwelling, where shade and refreshments await. We can continue our getting to know each other a little better later." Rurk then brushed off some seemingly imaginary trail dust from his perfectly tailored doublet of light, gauzy material, and offered his arm to Shurleen, saying, "Miss Bleth, if you will do me the honor."

"Charmed, I am sure," she replied, accepting his arm and falling into step beside him as he set off along the path that Herve had taken a few moments ago.

Volo looked to the others, and inquired, "Shall we?"

"Charmed, I'm sure," Curtis replied in a tone meant to mock Shurleen.

"You know, I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about that guy that I don't like," Passepout offered.

"I know," Volo replied, "but right now he's the only game in town."

The three fell into step and followed the route Rurk had taken.

The settlement known as Phantasia was little more than a few clusters of huts and hovels around a large estate manor house that Rurk referred to as the governor's palace. The natives of the area were of a darker color, similar to that of Herve the halfling, and were for the most part short, with muscular builds and intense black eyes.

As Rurk would pass, the natives would bow, saying, "Mis Ta Rurk," their tone highly respectful.

"That is what they call me," Rurk explained. "They once overheard Herve calling me mister, and they assumed that was my title. I've seen no reason to dissuade them."

Along the way to the mansion they also passed an arena-like structure composed of a playing field between two high parallel walls. They also passed several boiling works where fruit was distilled into a sort of wine juice, and where sap from nearby rubber trees was melted and molded into strips for weaving and tying. Several native women were in the process of weaving the strands into a hammock. The mansion itself had a Tethyrian flavor to its architecture: a large veranda-like porch where several woven thrones had been placed, each framed by two servants, one holding a tray with a pitcher and a cup, the other holding a huge plumed fan.

"Here we are," Rurk announced. "Take a seat and be comfortable."

Rurk escorted Shurleen to the throne on the farthest right, and then seated himself immediately to her left. The others followed suit, Volo next to him, Passepout next, and Curtis on the end.

Curtis, however, did not remain seated long, and preferred to sip from his drink while walking back and forth on the porch, causing the servant holding the fan a great deal of difficulty. The servant continued to follow at a respectful distance but had to be close enough to still cool the guest of his master, Rurk.

Curtis quickly became frustrated at running into the plume fan every time he turned around, and finally said to the servant, "Will you just leave me alone?"

A look of mortal terror passed on the servant's face.

Rurk clapped his hands, and Herve appeared at his side. The two exchanged whispers, at which point Herve said something to the servant, who immediately responded with a relieved look and left the porch.

"There is no reason to be uncomfortable or nervous, Curtis," Rurk explained. "The servants are solely here for our comfort. And I do hope my guests are comfortable."

"Why, sure," Shurleen replied, having a peeled grape popped into her mouth.

"And we greatly appreciate your hospitality," Volo offered. "So how many are you?"

"Excuse me," Rurk replied, not quite sure about the question.

"Others from Faerun in this settlement," Volo clarified, "in the province for which you are governor."

"Oh, I see," Rurk replied carefully. "I came down from the North with twenty of my best men. Ten are still here in similar accommodations along the ridge. The others fell victim to the hazards of this paradise known as Maztica. Disease, accidents, you know the risks."

"That flag over there," Volo pointed out. "I don't recognize it."

"It was our divisional flag."