Title: Drake's Story
Author: Aaron (Spiffy)
Date:8/6/98  @12:30am
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Question: What do you do when you want to write a certain type of story, 
but your characters aren't ready for it yet?

Answer:  Lots of NPC's ^_^  
-----
Time:  Shortly after Estela's "6th army" post.

Scene:  The rubble that was once Kaika.  This particular scene is 
centered on where the Green Dragon Inn once stood.

Like all things that Drake owned, the Green Dragon had been built to be 
simple, yet sturdy.  He'd even gone so far as to have paid for a few 
fire resistance spells to be cast on the building.  Unfortunately, fire 
resistance is not the same as fire PROOF.  The Inn held out for a while, 
but eventually burned with the rest.

...So it would have been somewhat of a surprise to anyone nearby to find 
that there had been survivors.

With the soft, familiar sound of stone rubbing against stone, a secret 
passage opened up in what had once been the kitchen floor.  There was 
silence for a moment, and then several people began creeping out into 
the night.

While he hadn't had much time, the innkeeper had managed to gather most 
of his employees and patrons into his impromptu shelter.

"Gotta hand it to you, Drake - that wine cellar of yours sure saved our 
arses."

The man who'd apparently been sent by Argnoth to capture Finn had used 
his time among the kegs to (ironically) sober up.  Since the attack, 
they'd learned his name was Kal ... although he'd avoided any other 
questions about himself.  Drake felt he was the lesser of two evils at 
this point, and might even be helpful to have around.

The next to come to the surface was Veld, a paladin from somewhere on 
the other side of the ocean.  Drake had been forced to render the man 
unconscious to keep him from running out to face the army - and his 
death.  Now that he was out in the open again, he looked like he was 
about ready to start running in the direction of the distant camp fires 
to start where he left off.

The paladin was followed by the cook, the two barmaids, and many of the 
people who had been guests at the time of the attack.  The last to come 
out was Trentil, a young man from town who'd been lucky enough to be in 
the right place at the right time.

"So what now?"  The question was directed at Drake.  By unspoken 
consensus, he'd been made leader of the group - if for no other reason 
than the fact that it was HIS inn they'd been hiding in.

"First, we'll need horses.  Since that army's been camped here for a 
while, they've probably gotten a little lazy so far as late-night 
security goes."

"Murderers tend to get that way when they think they've killed 
everyone."  That comment earned Veld a few sideways glances.  While no 
one really disagreed with his opinions, he'd been voicing an awful lot 
of them lately.  It tended to get annoying after a while.

"Yes, well... Veld, you, Kal, and myself will sneak into their camp and 
get some horses.  Then we'll high-tail it back here and get as far away 
from here as possible."

"I want to go, too!"

Veld looked at Trentil with some degree of snobbishness.  "There's no 
reason to risk your life for this, child.  We three should be enough 
to-"

"I'm NOT a CHILD!  I can help bring back some horses, and my Da's been 
teachin' me about swordplay..."

"And do you HAVE a sword?"

Trentil grew silent at Kal's question.

"Exactly.  Face it, kid - we're no match for an army, and we can't 
afford to have someone like you botching this whole thing up."

"But-"

"Best to stay here, Trent.  We won't be gone that long anyway."  Drake 
put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, then followed Veld and Kal 
off into the night.

Trentil stood there a moment to make sure they were out of sight, then 
took off after them.

He didn't get far before he tripped, fell, and knocked himself 
unconscious.  One of the barmaids covered a sheepish smile as she pulled 
her foot back out of the way.  "Oops..."  ^_~

-------
Drake and Veld crawled up to some bushes near the edge of the camp.  Kal 
was waiting for them.

"Well?"

"This seems like the best spot to try for it.  Looks like there were 
some bad rations or somethin' - most of the division looks pretty sick."

"Right.  Let's go."

-----------------

Mikul Radfur yawned, and continued to stare out into the darkness.  As 
one of the few men in 4th division who'd managed to get his tent up 
before that strange red rain hit, he'd been fortunate to not have had 
any ill effects.

Unfortunately, that ment he was one of the few men in the fourth who was 
fit for guard duty.  Sometimes, life just sucked.

Suddenly a large man showed up out of nowhere, strolling up to him like 
he was in the middle of town square.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you'd be able to help my friend an I with 
aquiring some supplies."

"Huh?  What fr-urmph!"  Mikul's last words were muffled by Kal's left 
hand as the right hand slit his throat.  Drake signaled the all-clear to 
Veld, and the 3 headed off to where the horses were hobbeled.

"Cut the ropes - all of them."

"But Drake, we don't need that many."

"Yes, but THEY will when they start chasing us."

"Heh.  Gotcha."  Kal grinned mischevously and began to cut the ropes 
tying the horses while Veld followed suit.  Drake kept himself busy by 
selecting the ones that looked the fittest and pulling them aside.

---

Veld clenched his teeth as he cut the horses free one at a time.  
These... these HEATHENS had gone unpunnished for their sins long enough, 
and it was time he did something about it.

Spotting someone stumbling out of their tent by the light of one of the 
campfires, he stopped what he ws doing and ran forward, sword held ready 
to strike.

"What are you - Veld, NO!"

"The fool!  He'll get us all killed!"  The two non-zealots had little 
choice but to run after the paladin in an attempt to stop him before it 
was too late.

Unfortunately, it already WAS too late.  Veld reched the soldier in a 
matter of secconds and sliced the man across the stomach.  While the 
blow was lethal, it was nowher near a quick death.  The man had plenty 
of time to scream while Veld ran into the tent in search of more 
victims.

Despite their rain-induced injuries, the forth rose quickly to the 
alarm.  They were still groggy and uncomfortable, however, and this put 
them at a disadvantage.

Kal apparently had a good supply of throwing daggers on his person, and 
was putting them to good use.  As very few people tend to sleep in their 
armor, there were a lot of exposed weak spots for him to aim for.

Drake, as well, was holding his own.  The innkeeper hadn't bothered to 
bring any weapons with him, but that hardly seemed to matter - let's 
just say there's a reason why he'd never had to hire a bouncer.  He 
side-stepped the first soldier to come at him, and back-handed the man's 
head as he passed by, causing the unfortunate to fall head over heals.

Kal spared a moment to give Drake a questioning glance.

"I thought you said you didn't like fighting."

"I don't."  Drake paused long enough to grab a man by his sword arm and 
toss him at someone else.  "That's why I get mad when I have to do it."

"Oh..."  Kal made a mental note to give Drake as few reasons to fight as 
possible, then winced in sympathy as the larger man bashed a couple of 
heads together.

The two quickly reached the tent that their companion had entered (which 
had since collapsed...), and managed to separate the paladin from the 
large ammount of canvas covering him.

Veld was still reluctant to leave, so Drake simply tossed the knight 
over his shoulder and took off for the horses.  Thanks to the extra 
weight, Kal was able to pass them rather quickly.

He began to question whether being in front was such a good idea when he 
noticed the mouded soldier ahead of them - apparently another one of the 
night watchmen.

Thinking fast, the rouge ducked under the guard's sword as he grabed the 
man's foot with one hand and cut the saddle belt with one of his knives.  
As the horse passed him, he held on to the foot.  This caused a problem 
for the soldier, who found himself more attatched to his foot than the 
horse - the latter of which was some distance off of the ground.

With the rider out of action, the way was clear to the horses.  By the 
time the soldiers were able to round up enough of the remaining horses 
to go after them, the three had dissapeared into the night.

----=Fare thee well, be loved, and be whole.=----
              Aaron "Spiffy" Smith
         "Tir gan ealain, tir gan anam."
  A country without art, a country without soul.
            LONG LIVE THE MACINTOSH!
      http://members.tripod.com/~Spiffykun/
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