The air in the room was heavy with smoke, curling around the iron fixtures hanging from the ceiling. The smell of sweat and animals and earth swept through the crowd, mixing and mingling, a familiar smell permeating the space much deeper than was usual. Allador sat in a roughly hewn chair on the center of the dais, the nervousness of the previous days starting to calm within him, even though he was seated in the center of the stage. A constant stream of people filtered in through the various doorways, slowly filling the space, raising the din of conversation that threatened to overpower the room. To either side of him sat one of the elders from the surrounding villages, staring forward into the crowd without speaking, as if mute and oblivious to their surroundings. It was clear to Allador they were familiar with this situation, though maybe not so much the scale at which was unfolding before them all.
Scanning the room Allador could see some familiar faces, at least, providing some comfort. His father was near the rear of the room, talking passionately with one of the local elders, his hands thrusting forward with each point, his face starting to turn red. His brother was seated along the left side, picking at the callouses on his left hand with his right while glancing nervously around while occasionally shooing away someone trying to take the seat next to him that he was saving for their father.
Closer to the front of the room, the rest of the elders from the other villages were seated, leaning towards one another as they attempted to talk under the noise filling the room. There was one standout amongst them, not sharing the stereotypical long grey beard, bushy eyebrows, and squinting eyes. Elder Farnor sat in the center of the front row opposite Allador, smiling reassuringly at him. Elder Farnor was the head of the elders in the first village he stopped at on his journey home, and Allador expected him to be a helpful voice within this great hall. As if sensing Allador’s unease, Elder Farnor held his hand out palm down, gesturing slightly up and down, signaling to Allador to calm himself, a reassurance that was direly needed and greatly appreciated.
Allador smiled at Elder Farnor, nodding his head in gratefulness. I did not realize the ally I would have in Farnor, Allador thought to himself. His assurances to me seemed fleeting at the time, but solidified into a real support of what I would need when the time was right.
While processing these thoughts Allador subconsciously noted the volume starting to decline. Looking up he saw his father finally making his way to his seat, a glimpse of relief on his brother’s eyes as their father headed his way. Seats began filling up as people made their way inside. Most of the remaining elders seemed to materialize near the front of the room, slowly shuffling towards their seats, their aged bodies seeming to float through the room. The rest of the seats on the stage filled from behind him, the elders filing out of the wings in a seemingly rehearsed bit of pageantry. Allador stifled a smile at the thought of it all, which became nearly impossible when his eyes locked with Elder Huldar in the front row of the audience, sneering at him in disdain. It was his chair on the dais that Allador sat in, and the entitlement of it all swam around Huldar like a verdant blanket.
Allador was unsure how the proceedings would move forward, so he was surprised to see Elder Farnor stand up and walk towards the stage, mounting the steps up the center of the stage and walking towards Allador. Smiling at him reassuringly, Farnor turned slowly towards the audience, raising his arms to the height of his shoulders, the palms of his hands turned downwards in a sign of silence. The people inside quickly quieted down, with whispers of quiet filtering to the crowds left outside. Under normal circumstances it would not be necessary, but with the size of the crowd, both inside and outside, one of the pages brought out a speaking horn on a stand, placing it in front of Farnor. The horn was a marvel, designed to send his voice up into the rafters where it was gathered by a larger horn that fed a network of tubes and horns, extending his voice throughout the hall and to the outside as well.
Farnor thanked the page, the graciousness in his voice filtering within and without the great hall. The page bowed slightly, then turned and made his way quickly from the stage. Farnor looked out to the crowd above the horn, reassured by what he saw, that all present were set and ready to listen.
“You all know the pestilence that has grown up across our lands. You cannot question the devastation it has brought to nearly every corner of this realm.”
Heads nodded throughout the room, a confirmation of the evil few of them could refute, yet couched with not denial but with uncertainty, the solution to their plight well outside of their grasp.
Farnor’s gaze swept the room, searching for the outliers, the ones that would need coaxing, the ones that knew the truth yet somehow refused to accept the fate the world around them was moving towards.