The Beauty of St. Jarvis


How long have we been friends? I don’t recall much because between your teachings of the All Mothers (whoever they are) and Whanna’s occasional smack in the head it’s hard to tell. To say the least, I have always loved having your company. It’s strange how I could love an elf platonicly when you and your race are so hot.

As you know my earliest moment was when you saved me from a stoning and then turned around and used one of those stones and created stone soup. Funny stuff. What you might not recall (than again I hear elves never forget) was when I first came to your rescue.

As you know I hear the voices in my head and I know that they are not real but they have some real good ideas. That usually leads me to trouble and some real hilarity. However one time there was a time when I had heard that you were in town. I was a new graduate of magic and could cast a few spells and was busy fluffing my feathers because I was no longer getting bonked on the head by a very old pan with a great resonator for sound. At any rate, I was in the middle of a show when a voice (one that I didn’t recognize because most of my voices are men) spoke to me. “Jarvis needs help. I will show you where she is.”

At first I was annoyed because the audience was laughing and the hat was full of coppers but the voice repeated. “Help my servant. You are her friend.” Well I was sure that the voice would not quit so I made my way following the directions of the voice.

In the distance, you were being beaten by priests of a local faith screaming the word heresy over and over. They were about to pick up stones when I threw a spell of bouncing balls and then gave a cackle that ran their blood cold. Between the confusion of being hit by balls and the sudden fear of a Ludicrous Mage, I grabbed your hand and raced out of the field of ‘attack’. We ran to your wagon and raced out of town before we stopped. Fear was on your face the whole time until you realized that it was your short goofy friend whom you saved only a few months before.

A month later after that experience you came to me to do an All Mothers tour. (Apparently my courage impressed you or you liked a good laugh; doesn’t matter witch). You asked to have me as entertainment for the children while you taught about the gods to the adults. For a year I was by your side laughing and having a good time the only time I thought was hard for my hard on was when you would pray… naked. You said that there should be nothing between the All Mothers and you. Upon seeing you, you invited me to prayer. At first it was awkward. I was not going to drop trou for the gods but you insisted. After a couple of days I got used to ‘prayer’ and even began to enjoy the spirituality (and especially the view. P.S. Those howls at night were not wolves). We went all over the Western Empire’s cities, you teaching and me entertaining. You had a small troop of about a dozen men and women that were really drawn to the cause. Not I, I was just drawn to your conviction, dedication and the view.

It was a fun year performing for Lords and Ladies. There was even the Kings invite before I was called to do other things. The last thing you did was gave me a pin when I left of the All Mothers of your design (though I hate to say it but I have lost it) to always remember our experience.

You will always be my friend and I hope I will always be yours. I pray to Thoth (yea your religious conviction rubbed off) that I will see you again one day. Thanks for the memories.

Burlap of CrIsis.

Written by Burlap on the 19th of Set the 17th year of King Itomas.

Picture from Antique Carousels.

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