Lockpick's Tale..
The room is sparse, one table sits in the corner of the room by the
window, two chairs pulled
back a little from it, obviously the people who had sat there hadn't
tucked them back in
again. The window looks out upon a grassy lawn and a little beyond a
dense forest, alive with
the sounds and sights of spring life. A large fire dominates another
side of the room, above
the mantle piece (full with bits of this and that) a hoopak lies in
pride of place on two hooks
from the wall. A small figure with green leggings and a topknot of black
hair sits on another
small chair in front of the fire. Even with the fire the room is
strangely cold. The small person
turns at your entrance..
Hey! It's Lockpick again! So you may be wondering "Just who is this
Kender?" well it's funny
you should say that because i've been wanting to tell people about
myself for a long, long
time now.. Lockpick's turns to gaze into the fire and his eyes glaze
over as he stares into the
fire, flames reflecting in his eyes..
It was a spring day and an elf sat at a clear pool in the forest washing
his tired and grubby feet. He
looked at the trees around him and took in the beauty of it all. For
today he knew, with most
probability, he would die. He wore clothes of green that blended with
the wood and beside him was
a bow and quiver full of arrows. His golden hair tumbled down past his
shoulder and his green eyes
were sharp and slightly slanted. His finely tuned hearing heard a sound
from down the path. He
cautiously picked up his bow and nocked an arrow, turning and pulling
back the string. A small
human rounded the corner, a child of 8 or 9 perhaps. He wore bright
green leggings and a blue top
which clashed violently, he also had a topknot of black hair, in his
hand was a hoopak and several
pouches adorned his belt. This was no human it was..
"Kender.." The elf said with a little loathing and a little fear in his
voice. He gathered his belongings
close. "Kender, where?" The Kender spun around looking wide eyed at the
forest around him. "Oh
me!" He then said in a shrill voice. "That's right. Kender." His eyes
inquistively looked at the elves
belongings "Actually my name's not Kender, it's Lockpick Thistleknot,"
he added with a little pride
in his voice "and what's yours?"
"That is not your concern."
"Really? Well..um..its kinda different but you'll get by with it I
suppose, is that just your first name?"
The Elf looked at the Kender with a mixture of sadness, amusment and
anger. "No, I bid you good day."
"No? That doesn't really answer my question does it?" The Elf walked
further from him into the
forest. "Hey!" the Kender shouted "You left your arrows!"
The Elf turned and in amazment noted that his quiver was indeed gone. "I
am in no mood for
games." he said slowly and coldly eyes full of purpose and intent. "Give
that back. Now."
"Oh ok," Lockpick handed the quiver over with one small hand. "You
shouldn't have dropped it in the first place."
The Elf took his quiver and once more looked at the Kender. "You should
not meddle. You are in danger here. Go."
"Danger!" the Kenders eyes widened "Someone I knew once said that danger
was their middle
name you know." Lockpick's expression turns serious. "I never did know
what he was talking
about, he knew it was really Urias. Anyway where's this danger?"
"There is a mighty she dragon in these parts, a black. I was sent.." he
stopped himself and raised his
bow at the Kender "Leave now."
"Why do I.."
The elf erupted.."Leave!" he shouted, face red, his calm exterior
cracking.
Lockpick looked like he was going to argue for one tortured moment and
then smiled while figeting
with his topknot. "Fine." Lockpick said cheerfully and started walking
away "Bye!" he shouted
back.
The elf kept his gaze, and his bow, fixed on the Kender until he was out
of sight and then waited,
just in case. After 5 minutes, more than any curious Kender could take,
the elf lowered his bow and
set off once more into the forest. "Damned Kender.." he muttered to
himself "I Thorlarin Silverleaf
vow I will never try to be around them again." As he walked down the
path, a small figure could be
seen to be walking after him, very slowly and quietly. Perhaps even
smiling as he walked, perhaps not.
Inside the cave was blackness, utter dark. Imaginary shapes filtered
amongst the shadows. The
shadows opened an eye. Red and huge it glared balefully out. This was no
fantasy. It moved outside
its cave and then its true beauty, power and savagness was revealed.
Huge leathery wings folded up
against its side. This was no fantasy. Teeth and claws sharp and huge
clicked on the stone floor of
the cave. This was no fantasy. It opened its mouth and yawned, huge
teeth gleaming and an loud
intake and outake of air was heard. This was a dragon.
Thorlarin crept up to the cave, slowly, and ever so very carefully. His
bow was drawn in his hand
and his expression was blank although his muscles were tense, giving
away much. The trees thined
out here, great dusty, muddy tracks were left in the ground. Thorlarin
tried to ignore quite how big
they were. A large boulder was lying in the clearing, seemingly out of
place. Then he saw the marks.
Claw marks, very deep and very long were evident in its surface,
covering the boulder. They had
obviously been done without much effort on the part of who did it.
Thorlarin face was now pale in
the light of what he had to face - and kill. It came back to him in an
instant.
You Thorlarin Silverleaf of house Redias are charged as follows. You
find the dragon known
as Obsidian. And kill her. This is your punishment as we see fit.
Why had he done it? He truly didn't know the answer. All he knew was
that the first step on the
road back to antonment was the slaying of this dragon. And he intended
to slay it. Right now he
fanced he could hear the deep and regular breathing of a dragon. He had
seen one once before, but
that was miles away, circling in the sky. Now this was near and very
much a threat. He had to
concentrate. Forcing his breathing to become more regular he faced he
entrance of the cave. Raising
his bow he raised his voice to a shout to wake the dead. "Dragon! Come
out and face me! Your
time has come." The last part was as much to convince himself than the
dragon. He waited. Nothing.
He heard a rustle behind him. Turning he loosed his arrow it flew
straight and true. But it was too
high to hit the target. Looking confused was a Kender. Lockpick
Thistleknot Thorlarin noted with
much disgust. "Well," said Lockpick "that's not a nice way to greet me.
Well if that's your way there
you go, it's not my fault there's something wrong with you."
"You!" roared Thorlarin "Get away you thief! There is a dragon here!"
"Dragon, where?" Lockpick whirled around. "Oh," he said "that one coming
through the trees over there."
"What?" Thorlarin turned slowly, fearfully. There in front of him was
the dragon. He was truly
amazed something so big could move so fast. It stepped forwards, its
stride so big that the distance
between them was halved. Powerful muscles rippled in its shoulders and
its wings flexed at its side.
It's tale moved behind it slowly moving from side to side. It head was
horned and two large baleful
red eyes stared out at the elf and kender. It was covered in black
scales. From around it's neck an
emblem of some kind of dragon hung, swinging from side to side in the
cool breeze. "Oh dear." said Lockpick quietly.
"Get down!" shouted Thorlarin as he loosed an arrow at the dragon. While
Lockpick ignored him
and continued staring at the dragon, the arrow hit the dragon straight
on the snout. With a splintering
noise it snapped in half upon hitting the iron-hard scales. The dragon
looked down at him with
amusment and opened its mouth and turned its head directly at Thorlarin.
Knowing what was next
Thorlarin dove to the side behind the boulder with the claw marks and
watched as a cloud of acid
drifted down upon the bow he was forced to drop in his haste. He was in
trouble. Lockpick
however had apparently no reservations about talking to the dragon.
"Hi!" he said cheerfully "My
name's Lockpick Thistleknot." he extended his small hand to shake but
then decided that that might
not be such a good idea. The dragon stared at him with its red eyes and
for a split-second Lockpick
almost ran. Almost. "Well," he continued "I better do most of the
talking seeming as though you can't seem to."
"I can speak, Kender" the dragon spat the last word out in its hissing
voice "why have you come here?"
"Well I just followed that elf," Lockpick replied pointing to Thorlarin
"I don't know what he's doing
here but it looks like he wants to kill you." Lockpick bent forwards and
in a conspiritical voice
added "I don't think he's a very nice person myself."
Then, the dragon started laughing. "You Kender are brave." It looked at
Lockpick "Maybe brave to
the point of foolishness but brave all the same. And you," the dragon
intoned looking over at the
boulder that Thorlarin hid behind "are somewhat below the quality that a
normal dragonslayer
comes at."
Thorlarin stood up from behind the boulder and charged at the dragon, in
his hands he now held a
faintly glowing longsword. With a leap he swung his sword at the dragons
exposed flank, with a
screech the dragon reeled back, a bloody gouge now exposed in its flank.
Whipping its tail around it
struck Thorlarin straight in the chest and he flew backwards into a
tree. With a groan he lay there.
The dragon moved over and gazed down at the broken and bloody body.
Thorlarin was dying. It
was then the elf gazed up and saw the pendant. It was of a dragon, a
platinum one. Paladine's
symbol. He had attacked a good dragon. The dragon placed its clawed hand
over his body and
murmered a prayer. The body vanished. "Gone," it said, "To a temple
nearby. He will live." The
dragon turned to stare at Lockpick again "And you, what will you do?"
"Well," said Lockpick, "I was thinking about staying around with you for
a while. After all - you
obviously need help - I mean he nearly killed you and all - You are," he
added "a pretty iresponisble
dragon. I suppose," he said sitting down on a rock "I'd better give you
something to eat that will
help that wound," Lockpick held up an old fish that was in his pouch
"Here." he said handing it over.
The dragon tried to hide its amusement.
"And that is how I met Draconisac" says Lockpick finshing. The flames
die down in the
hearth and you notice that your steel pieces have gone..
Mathew
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