Vast Listen here again. As opposed to covering more of the boring parts of the travels of Maxwell the Heretic, I feel the urge to extrapolate on the comings and goings of the other players on the world stage.

Heretics Dell,

“Who's this 'Maxwell Smithson' our king is making preparations to visit?” Genece inquired of his boss.

Farmer Joe looked up at the halfling, and looked up farther. “The kingdom is named after him.”

“...This Maxwell is one of our little brothers? And he still lives?”

“If you believe the old stories or listen to the church folk, he is something like six or seven hundred years old.” Joe replied. “Even if you don't believe them church folk, the Worgs have him pegged at over one hundred fifty.”

“Then why didn't he wear our crown, and wake us up?”

“Oh, that's easy. He died in the Heretics War. He came back last year.”

“So he's a god?”

Joe blanched, “Best keep those words to yourself. He absolutely HATES the gods; he's apparently killed several of them.” Joe shook his head, “He still thinks he's mortal, and will die someday so that he can reunite with his wife on the other side.”

“But the gods cannot die, only be banished from the world for a time. We discovered that the hard way.” Genece spoke in a low voice.

“Yeah, so I've heard.” Joe said. “But still, I wouldn't take his name in vein. He has opinions about the gods, and refuses to have anything to do with them.”

“So he is a god and a man?” Genece stared down at his little brother.

“Yes, and no?” Joe tried to explain, “He was mortal. He got 'cursed' by the goddess of Tranquility to live forever. His wife died of old age, and he blamed the gods. Now he wanders around making trouble for the evil, and helping the good and the poor.”

“So he's been doing that for and average of six hundred years?” Genece asked.

“That's about it. You know Mechalia, across the field? The one with the horns?”

Genece blushed, “Yes?”

“Ask her about how Demonia came to be.” Joe smiled at the smitten halfling, “I bet she would love to tell you her homeland's history of the Heretic.”

- - -

“My love, I don't think you need to worry so much.” Queen Dana said to her pacing husband. “The invitation stated quite clearly that gifts weren't wanted. And besides, what could we give the man? Our kingdom?”

“True, my love. True.” King Michael looked at his wife, then resumed pacing. “Maybe our second born?” He laughed almost immediately. “He would kill us both for that! Brandywine on the other hand would find her a suitable gift. Maybe we could give her something?” He didn't see the teacup that bounced off of his head.

“You idiot!” Dana yelled.

“Yes dear. Sorry dear.” The words came immediately from his mouth. “It's just...I'm worried. You know Max. He's not...clued in to how things work sometimes?”

“True. That's why Brandy is there. She wouldn't let him do anything stu... You have a point.” Dana looked up to the ceiling, then back to her husband, “We need to find a gift that he will take. One that will give him some insight into people.”

*-*-*

Gilip, Demonia's Capital City;

Citadel of Parliament;

Department of Communications Office.

Deacon Alexander, Head of the Stone Communications Division, looked at his supervisor, “Um, boss?”

“Yes Deacon Alexander?”

“I have an engagement party to attend. I need some time off.” Alex said.

“You know that can't be allowed right now, what with the demons having gone to ground after Bjorn had his way with them. Maybe for a wedding, but probably not for that either.”

Alex handed his boss the invitation. “You may want to read it....”

Less than an hour after his boss woke up, Alex had orders to attend the party, and a gate was scheduled for his passage.

*-*-*

Newleigh, Unclaimed Territory.

In a small bar, on a small road, a group of thugs sat around a table. A table with a permanently empty seat. The woman sitting next to the empty chair was speaking. “Y'all remember Mr. Smithson?”

A round of nods was had by all the people in the bar, not just the ones at the table. “I got an invitation to a 'engagement party' he's having. I'm going. I need to leave tomorrow. Ralph? As my second, you're in charge while I'm gone.”

Ralph nodded.

“Anyone have questions?”

A hand was raised by a young boy, new to the 'family', “Is it true, what they say about him? That he's 'The Heretic'?”

Ralph, the boys mentor, patted him on the head, “Oh yes my boy. Yes it is.” He then looked up at the boss, “Maybe you should bring a 'plus one' after all?”

- - -

The Newleigh acting troupe was in an uproar. They had been invited to preform at an Elven engagement party. Anything but 'The Ballad of Tristan'. They dispatched a dozen of their best actors immediately, and put their seconds on the stage.

*-*-*

A Wagon rest between Warton and Gurakzar,

Briana looked at the pile of correspondence on her portable writing desk and sighed. Taking the first letter off of the pile, she read it, and jotted down some notes, then went on to the next. She continued this pattern for almost an hour before standing and stretching. She was of two minds about her engagement. Firstly she was thrilled to be engaged at such an early age, as most girls her age were still in the midst of years long marriage negotiations.

Secondly, she was a bit concerned about her future with Maxwell. Sure, he was not unattractive, and he was (very) financially stable. He seemed to have a good humor about him, and he was very well connected. In all circles he was a fine catch. But he was human. Could he actually carry out the duties of an Elven Lord? Could he father viable children? Most half elves were so weak in the magic of the woods that they died before their third century began. Could she love him?

She sat back on the chair, and began a letter to her mother.

“Mother, I hope this finds you well. Our engagement thus far has only had a single argument, mostly about what spices to add to a rabbit stew. Who adds the all-of-spice to a stew? I will never understand human cooking.

Maxwell is a wonderful and gracious man. I do enjoy his company, and am looking forwards to our time together. The adventure you sought and that I also seek is already upon me, and I am loving it. We have faced bandits, dire-bears, and hungry wolves! I have been receiving lessons in the sword and shield! I know father would not approve, but it is more than a little thrilling. You never mentioned how Maxwell's muscles rippled when he is without a shirt. I feel a little faint thinking back on it...

I have questions though. Will he be able to provide me with children as is my duty to king and country? Will we find love in each others arms? Will this be more than a political marriage? I...I just...worry.

Your warnings about Brandywine were spot on. She is a strange and mischievous creature, very cute but with a strength that is beyond reasoning. We have come to an...arrangement of sorts, and she has agreed to be one of my bridesmaids for the wedding! She is also having some troubles of her own. Her mother has reached out to her, and wants to know when she will be visiting with her 'human slave'. Apparently she hasn't been quite truthful with her mother about her relationship with Max. I wonder; if she and Max were the same size; if they would have been happily married by now and enjoying there many children? I think Maxwell may be a little too dense to have noticed her in that way.

Speaking of Max being dense, did you know that he is the head of the 'Men (and women) of Repute'? He is also the defacto leader of two countries, and is held in almost godlike regard in both? Brandy warned me not to bring that bit of knowledge up, as it apparently makes him very uncomfortable. And he has ties to so many other kingdoms and holdings! The most important thing you never told me is that he is a full grown Elven Arborist!

The evening candle runs low, so I must be done.

Your loving daughter,

Bri.”

Briana looked over the letter, then folded and sealed it, placing it in the mail bag for tomorrows courier to pick up. She glanced to her right and into the eyes of her betrothed, then they both looked away.

-

Vast Listen here, with a piece for those not well versed in the history of the Elven Kingdom of Heartglenia. What is now know as the Demon Wastes, was once the High Elven Kingdom. When the star fell to earth some ten thousand years ago and created a rift to the abyss, it devastated the kingdom, leaving a scant 1% of the population alive. The survivors were forced to relocate to their southern most holdings.

Due to the lack of population, low birth rate, and complications in pregnancy, It has become a source of social pride (to both sexes) to be engaged or even married by the age of 100.

- - -

The three heroes looked at each other across the cooking fire. “Do either of you remember how you got here?” Magni asked. “I walked off a pier in the middle of winter and drowned. Next thing I know, here I am.”

Nomvula looked up from her 'kabob' the english had made, and attempted to stare down the spear and a half tall mass of meat “Not much different for me. Just that english murdered me, and here I am.”

“I was pulled through a portal. It was a strange sight that I don't really remember all that well.” Chester said. “A truly strange experience.” He looked at the young Zulu girl, “And you bloody well know my name, Zulu girl. Please use it.”

She looked back down to the kabob, “Meh. English thinking they own the world.”

*-*-*

Garthia,

The great old Pando stood in the middle of her clearing, and stretched, branches quivering in the sunlight. Her newest 'Forest Guardian' had just finished reading the invitation from her creator inviting her to an 'engagement' party. She rattled her branches, “Place on of the young sprites in a pot, and send her as my representative. I have much to do here.” The young man nodded. “How goes the infestation on the eastern edge?”

“Almost all eradicated. ma'am. I don't believe the poachers will be back any time soon.”

“That is good. Have we come to an understanding with the 'jacks come to as to where the thinning is to take place among the unawakened, and deadfall?”

“Yes. They have agreed to the selective cutting and logging plan.”

Splendid. I don't believe I will require your assistance any more today. Go and enjoy your family. Oh, and keep Timmy away from the well. I am tired of getting him out.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

- - -

Smithson School of Blacksmithing,

El Gato, God king of all he surveyed, eyed the silly humans as they ran around the sprawling school complex. Apparently the Heretic was getting engaged. Good for him. He lazed in the large tree, and cleaned his whiskers. I believe I will attend this event as well. They are sure to have good cream and fresh fish. He jumped from his tree, landed easily on the wagon that was leaving the gate, and snuggled in for a long trip. His minion, the tree that defied the gardeners, waved its branches as a goodbye.

- - -

Garthax, Capital of Garthia

Royal Palace

“Your Majesty, we have received an invitation for 'whomever is on the throne' to attend an engagement party.” Alejandro, the queens secretary said, laying the invitation on her desk. “I would not bother you with such trivialities, but, please note the signature.”

Queen Asterlane looked at the plain invitation, almost dismissing it. Then the seal next to the signature caught her attention. “Has the seal been verified?”

“I'm afraid so, your Majesty.”

“Damn. Double Damn. I thought we were rid of the man.”

“We all had our hopes.”

“Send someone from the diplomatic corps with a barrel of our finest liquor.” The queen rolled her eyes. “And have them make sure Maxwell accept his titles this time? Goldstran was part of the contract for the spying he did. Also the provinces of Ehelm and Rorevilia that Sir Tristan of Denvrr left for him after his departure. I'm tired of that piece of legislation popping up in the yearly reports. Four? Five? Centuries is more than long enough for the Dutchy of Golstran to be without their Duke. ”

Alejandro nodded, “Golstran has been five and a half centuries, your majesty. Although the three islands do take pride in the fact that their lord trusts them to rule themselves. On the other hand, the fact that they only pay their taxes in eels is more than a bit tiresome.”

“Yes. And they don't even catch the eel's themselves! They purchase the whole catch from the fleets!” The queen moaned. “And then we have to sell the blasted things.”

“True. But the markup we get is a nice bonus to the...” Alejandro stopped, “You don't actually think that was their plan, do you?”

“...curse the Heretic.”

*-*-*

Littlestar,

Capital of the elven kingdom of Heartglenia,

“Hey cheater king of the elves! I'm supposed to invite you to my engagement party. Here's your invitation.

Maxwell Smithson

Ps. If the old cheating bastard of a king is dead, then I hope this letter finds you in good health. And please consider yourself properly invited to my engagement party.”

Young King Silverhand of the elves looked up from the letter at his majordomo, “Why is he referring to grandfather in such a fashion? And who is this 'Master Smithson'?”

“Your majesty, your grandfather was banned for the use of magic in a rather backwards dwarven throwing competition in his youth.” Elquin, majordomo of the kings household, replied. “As for Master Smithson... Well, you remember the stories of the human who defied our god? The heretic?”

“Yes Elquin.” King Silverhand replied. “He was featured prominently of the bedtime tales. 'Be good, or Maxwell the Heretic will come and steal your tree'. My hero, the one who stole our teachings, and blasphemed against our god?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Elquin swallowed hard, “The name seal has been verified, and the rumors of his death were apparently exaggerated.”

“So... You're telling me that one of my childhood heroes is actually still alive?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Splendid! Pack Our bags, We are going on an outing!”

Majordomo Elquin rolled his eyes, and stifled a cry of frustration. “Yes your majesty.”