Magic and Monsters

The Grand Feast

Charles and Beatrice entered the overarching double doors into the dining hall. The servant at the entrance bowed and waved them in. "Welcome, Lady Beatrice and young master," he said.

The dining hall had a ceiling so high it appeared to reach into the sky. Three rows of tables lead from the back of the room and stretched all the way to the front, where the masters of the house were positioned. 

At the head of the middle table was Baron Burns, a mountain of a man with a bald shiny head, who wore a distinct red beard. The Baron had a royal blood red coat bearing the symbol of a helmet. Several old scars ran down his left cheek. Next to him was Harrison who was dressed in a similar fashion. 

Quite a few of the seats have already been occupied by various rich and powerful looking figures. Men bearing expensive red and gold regalia bearing different symbols and women wearing exquisite dresses and hats of all kinds lined the three long tables.

Charles took the first step in and the idle chatter immediately hushed. All eyes turned towards himself and Beatrice as if the two of them were alien specimens. Charles immediately felt the hair on his neck rise. The tension in the room suddenly skyrocketed.

Baron Burns stood up from his seat at the end of the dining hall and raised his glass. 

"Ah, Lady Beatrice and the adventuring hero! Please come in, I have reserved two seats here at the head just for the two of you!" he boomed from across the room. Baron Burns have a genuine toothy smile, with his eyes crinkling at the edges.

Beatrice gave Charles a soft nudge from the side, breaking him from his sudden paralysis. He swallowed down his nervousness and smiled back. His first impression was about to make or break depending on his next actions.

"It's an honour to be in your presence, Baron Burns!" replied Charles with a facade of bravado. He turned to Beatrice and offered a hand, which she graciously accepted. The two of them formally walked up to the front, ignoring the looks from those they passed. 

The Baron let out a deep belly laugh and called for a servant to bring two glasses of fine wine. Small talk filled the room once again as the eyes left them. Charles let out an internal sigh of relief but kept up the act of confidence and fearlessness. Baron Burns motioned for Beatrice to sit beside Harrison and for Charles to be seated next to himself.

Charles immediately sensed that the Baron was attempting to separate the two of them. He recalled Beatrice speaking of a political marriage attempt between Harrison and Beatrice, and the baron probably saw Charles as a potential competitor. He was about to speak up but to his surprise, Beatrice beat him to it.

"Actually I believe it would only be right for me to sit beside and entertain the hero who saved my life this very morning," interjected Beatrice with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. 

Harrison snorted rudely. "Is this how you act during your longtime friend's coming of age? I believe it is most rude to reject an invitation to sit beside me, the real toast of the party!" he retorted with a haughty victorious smile. Harrison made an emphasis on the word 'real'. Charles was shocked by Harrison's sheer arrogance but chose to ignore it.

Charles calmly joined in. "I believe as gentlemen of the country, we shall allow the Lady to make her own decisions," he said.

The Baron let out another booming laugh. "Well said, Charles was it? Lady Beatrice, why don't you sit between the two of them?"

With that, they were all seated, although Beatrice seemed to be leaning away from Harrison to create distance. More and more nobles entered the dining hall, filling out the seats.

The Baron chugged his mead and began to boast about his younger years when he was a general. He described fondly of countless castles he had razed to the ground back in his prime.

Servants dressed in white suddenly entered in rows of three, each bearing a large silver platter. The Baron paused his storytelling and stood up from his seat.

"May the feast begin!" he announced with outstretched arms. The servants pulled off the lid to reveal steaming hot roast meats of various kinds, surrounded by a colourful arrangement of vegetables. One of the servants placed the platter right in front of Charles' crockery. 

Charles immediately felt his stomach growl. When was the last time he had a meal? Baron Burns motioned for them to dig in. 

"Snow rabbit is a delicacy in the northern regions. I thought it was about time we had it again." said the Baron as he cut off a large portion for himself. 

Charles noticed everybody around him using cutlery in the most refined fashion as if they were all eating with the queen. Not a single elbow rested upon the tablecloth, and every lap had a napkin. 

Luckily his parents were strick around the dining table when he was young, so he knew the basic etiquette. Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten just about all of it over the years. He was about to grab himself a portion of snow rabbit hide when a sudden cold shiver ran down his spine. 

Something seemed off, but he couldn't tell what it was. Charles gave a nervous glance towards the entrance.

"Charles, you look off. Is everything ok?" asked Beatrice, noticing his change.

"Something's not right. I can feel it," he replied. Cold dread seemed to press down on his shoulders. He couldn't explain it. It was almost like a sixth sense or premonition.

Suddenly a soldier burst through the doors, almost knocking over a servant in his haste.

"WALKERS! THEY'VE MASSACRED THE TOWN! WALKERS ARE EVERYWHERE!" cried the soldier. He was gasping for breath.