From gunnarr@itasca.net Mon Mar 23 00:20:03 1998 Date: Fri, 20 Mar 1998 19:28:17 -0600 From: "Chad C. Walstrom" Newsgroups: alt.dragons-inn Subject: [INN] New Char: Luisov -=- A Prelude -=- He wasn't sure how long he had been out. The sun, a large orange orb, sank slowly to the West painting the sky in its wake. His whole body ached, as if he had just been mugged by an army of guantleted warriors. Had he been? He propped himself up by his left elbow and looked around. No, he couldn't have been mugged, even in this stretch of the forest. Besides, he could see no tracks near him. Surely a mugger would have left tracks. No. Wait. There was a track. A light foot, skinny. He barely saw it there in the tufted grasses near the brambles he lay in. His head spun, and he laid back down quickly to stop the world. Touch something. Grab on to something; that should stop it. Slowly, the world ceased its vertigo, but his stomach had already decided its objection to such rough treatement. He sat up with a jerk and bent into the bushes to lose his lunch, and the world spun again. All went black. He awoke to the sounds of night sharp in his ears. His stomach no longer lurched, and the world seemed to be still. It must have rained again. His clothes were sopping wet, but the Earth smelled so good. He dug his hands deeply into the mud beside him. It felt wonderful! He laughed with amusement. Memories of childhood flooded mind, and he rolled joyously in the puddle. How could he have forgotten such fun? He quickly unlaced his boots and stuck his feet into the mud, letting it squish between his toes. He felt refreshed! Light! Giggling, but not his. He froze, not daring to breathe. Slowly, he turned his head to the source of the sound. He heard so well now, not like this afternoon when that explosion blew him clear into the trees. Explosion? Standing no more than three feet from him were two misty creatures. Faeries. They were tiny, no more than a half-meter tall. Female. Such frail wings; transparent. Light dresses hung loosely from their shoulders, not fully hiding their lithe bodies. Their eyes widended when they realized he was looking directly at them. Gone! Where did they go? He heard whispering, "He can SEE us!" His head swiveled slowly to the sound, and he saw two pair of eyes staring at him from the shadows, barely visible from here. Should he be seeing such detail in this light? It must be midnight. No moon. He couldn't reason it out, so he accepted it and was careful to continue swiveling his head. No reason to spook them further, yet. Another whisper. "No, he can't. See!" It sounded sweet, lilted, triumphant. The shadow moved closer, boldly. "Come ON!" Another giggle, tiny. They moved without a sound. He stretched slowly and yawned, as if no one else was there. "He IS handsome, isn't he?" Another voice. "And he WAS playing in the mud like a child!" He smiled broadly, and wiggled his toes in the mud in spite of himself. A gasp, small. "CAN he hear us?" He chuckled and nodded. Another gasp, and this time he heard tiny feet scurrying away. "Wait!" he called softly and turned to the two sprites. "I won't harm you." he added, and slowly sat down cross-legged. The two voices again, arguing. Finally, giggling. "Promise no hurt?" He nodded. As the two stepped out into the grass clearing, he smiled comfortingly. How can I be seeing these two? He thought only the innocent or the trained could see woodnymphs and faeries, not a simple scout like himself! A child or a druid, but not him. "Why can you see us?" one asked. She was lovely, her features chiseled but soft. Tiny pointed ears, just like the songs of the bards. He shook his head. "I don't know." He shrugged. "I am no longer innocent, and I am not a druid." He shrugged again. They looked quizically at him, as if he were a new creature. Surely they had seen a human before. "No," one agreed. This one was taller. Older? "You're not a cub." She looked at him as if she had just determined what he was. "And you have no magic about you, or you don't now," she corrected herself and frowned. "I don't now?" he raised an eyebrow at the taller one. "What do you mean by..." The explosion! He remembered! There was a battle between two magic users, and he was caugt crouching behind a tree for cover! Were they druids? Mages? One must have been a mage, he had robes black as night. The other? Probably a druid. His cloak had been a tan color. No, brown. He had just walked out of Lord Aermhuld's encampment. The jerk wouldn't pay him, and he didn't work for free. "He's mad!" one of the faeries squeaked and ran off into the shadows. He looked up to find himself alone, both had run off. He sighed ruefully. He chastized himself for letting his thoughts play to his face. Sighing, he apologized and tried to explain to the shadows that someone had upset him that afternoon. Nothing. They sure are jumpy. Foolishness, he thought. It must have been that explosion. He was lucky to be alive. Quickly, he checked himself for bruises or broken bones. Nope. Truely lucky. He gathered his things, and carried his boots to the stream he had passed earlier that day. Foolishness. Playing in the mud like a child! The stream rushed musically over the rocky bed, and he felt the knots unraveled from his muscles as stepped into the water. He bent over to start scrubbing his feet. Oh, bother. He was mud from top to bottom! He dove into the water and held his breath as the water flowed over him. His hand anchored him in place to a protruding rock and he let his body float in the direction of the water flow. He moaned his approval and smiled again. Montfort, he thought. That's a place I haven't been in a long time. It was the first town he would pass through on his way back to his homelands to the West. He was done with war. He wanted nothing to do with it any longer. Senseless. Most of the Lords that he had ever worked for fought for petty things. A few thousand meters of land. Religion. Skin color. He had seen it all, and hated every minute of it. Well, almost every minute. At first it had been an adventure, a thrill. Swords, lances, mounts, espionage, thievery. It sounded so glorious so long ago. Innocent. Hardly. There was plenty of blood on his hands, and all for coin. Not any more. "Not any more," he said aloud. It took him the remainder of the night to make Montfort. As the sky slowly turned a dark blue, he reached the reached a familiar inn. Above the door, a red dragon sign hung. He didn't pay attention to its detail; the recognition was enough. He stepped through doors into the common room. They were never closed. Fawn, Sera, and Hugh. It had been a long time, but at least he remembered their names. He wondered if they were still around or not. The common room was mostly empty except for the early risers. Hugh was up already, tending the bar, or was it now a breakfast bar. Louisov smiled despite the night he had had. Hugh had always been able to make him smile. "Hey, old man." He grinned as Hugh gave him an amused look. "Ah, you've probably seen many adventurers in your time. No need to remember me." He smiled again, and added in a tired voice. "But I wouldn't mind a room and a meal." "Not a problem." Hugh extended his hand, and they shook on it. Louisov fished out some coins from his coinpurse and set them on the bar. "Lots of water, please." He was parched! "Lots of it." He smiled and gazed around the Inn to see who was brave enough to meet the sun this morning. -=- -=- -=- -=- -=- -=- -=- -=- Chad "Chewie/Gunnarr" Walstrom http://www.itasca.net/~gunnarr Email: gunnarr@itasca.net