Post by Bricu on Jul 16, 2006 22:04:33 GMT -5
“So, you’re sayin’ that they weren’t cheerin’ for me?”
“Goodness, no Bricu. They were cheering for Windsor.”
“So I’m not the livin’ legend.”
“No” Delion sighed.
“Bricu, even your drinking isn’t that legendary.”
Bricu glared at Elyle for a moment; Elyle simply smiled.
“Well, Bricu, you are not the living legend that the soldiery were talking of.”
The three men on the second floor of the Pig N’ Whistles were a sight to see. Elyle and Bricu sat with their backs to the wall, each with a number of empty tankards in front of them. They were both dressed in comfortable, almost stylish clothes. Delion, in impeccable robes that defined fashioned, sat with one tankard which he sipped at slowly. Bricu was loud, Elyle was quiet and Delion was proper. At this moment, Bricu knew they were all friends…
“Bricu, you do realize that the men were praising Windsor.”
Bricu nodded. “Oi, a toast to the late, great Windsor!”
Bricu and Elyle slammed their tankards into the other’s. Delion raised his mug and nodded.
“But, I have a question.”
“Anything mate, fire away.”
“Why would you toast Windsor after you hit him?”
“Bricu, why would you hit Windsor?”
“Because the man’s a bloody grandstandin’ fool. Most heroes are. Strewth mates, most heroes deserve to be slapped at least once in their life. Help’s ‘em live longer.”
Delion paused a moment before posing his next question, “But now, you’ve toastd to him.”
“Aye, I did that too. You’ve got to toast heroes.”
“Bricu. You are so very odd. You are not making any sense.”
Bricu finished another beer. Before he answered, he saw the rail thin man enter the Pig. Covered in a dark cloak, sticking to the shadows—but walking with a familiar limp. Typical Pig cliente…and someone he knew. Something about this did not click...
"Of course something is wrong Bricu." Delion tapped Bricu's tankard with a well-manicured finger. "At this point, you disappeared from view and spoke with that old friend of yours. Then you came back and told us about how we are defined by, and define, our roles. Eventually, you drank enough to pass out—but you managed to give me, and Eyle, a number of pointers on how to seduce women."
"Oh….an' why are you telling me this?"
Delion smiled—a gesture Bricu had rarely, if ever seen—"Because right now Bricu, you and are aren't talking. Even if we were in the same city, we wouldn't be talking. You said it we aren't "mates" anymore. But, right now, you need a friend. You're in the Plaguelands. You've been shot. If you don't wake up, pretty soon you're going to die."
"Right Del, that's not… What are you doin?"
Delion had his hand on Bricu's chest. Now Bricu knew something was wrong. Delion wouldn't touch him…When Delion removed his hand, it was covered in blood.
"See Bricu? Now, wake up."
He woke up with a start. His chest was on fire and his head was spinning. He was propped up against one of the blighted plaguewood trees. Standing over him was Stackpole—behind stackpole was a clearing. No bats, demons or giant grubs. Just a vaguely familiar clearing.
"Good, you're finally awake. Now, let me finish what you started, Bittertongue."
“Goodness, no Bricu. They were cheering for Windsor.”
“So I’m not the livin’ legend.”
“No” Delion sighed.
“Bricu, even your drinking isn’t that legendary.”
Bricu glared at Elyle for a moment; Elyle simply smiled.
“Well, Bricu, you are not the living legend that the soldiery were talking of.”
The three men on the second floor of the Pig N’ Whistles were a sight to see. Elyle and Bricu sat with their backs to the wall, each with a number of empty tankards in front of them. They were both dressed in comfortable, almost stylish clothes. Delion, in impeccable robes that defined fashioned, sat with one tankard which he sipped at slowly. Bricu was loud, Elyle was quiet and Delion was proper. At this moment, Bricu knew they were all friends…
“Bricu, you do realize that the men were praising Windsor.”
Bricu nodded. “Oi, a toast to the late, great Windsor!”
Bricu and Elyle slammed their tankards into the other’s. Delion raised his mug and nodded.
“But, I have a question.”
“Anything mate, fire away.”
“Why would you toast Windsor after you hit him?”
“Bricu, why would you hit Windsor?”
“Because the man’s a bloody grandstandin’ fool. Most heroes are. Strewth mates, most heroes deserve to be slapped at least once in their life. Help’s ‘em live longer.”
Delion paused a moment before posing his next question, “But now, you’ve toastd to him.”
“Aye, I did that too. You’ve got to toast heroes.”
“Bricu. You are so very odd. You are not making any sense.”
Bricu finished another beer. Before he answered, he saw the rail thin man enter the Pig. Covered in a dark cloak, sticking to the shadows—but walking with a familiar limp. Typical Pig cliente…and someone he knew. Something about this did not click...
"Of course something is wrong Bricu." Delion tapped Bricu's tankard with a well-manicured finger. "At this point, you disappeared from view and spoke with that old friend of yours. Then you came back and told us about how we are defined by, and define, our roles. Eventually, you drank enough to pass out—but you managed to give me, and Eyle, a number of pointers on how to seduce women."
"Oh….an' why are you telling me this?"
Delion smiled—a gesture Bricu had rarely, if ever seen—"Because right now Bricu, you and are aren't talking. Even if we were in the same city, we wouldn't be talking. You said it we aren't "mates" anymore. But, right now, you need a friend. You're in the Plaguelands. You've been shot. If you don't wake up, pretty soon you're going to die."
"Right Del, that's not… What are you doin?"
Delion had his hand on Bricu's chest. Now Bricu knew something was wrong. Delion wouldn't touch him…When Delion removed his hand, it was covered in blood.
"See Bricu? Now, wake up."
He woke up with a start. His chest was on fire and his head was spinning. He was propped up against one of the blighted plaguewood trees. Standing over him was Stackpole—behind stackpole was a clearing. No bats, demons or giant grubs. Just a vaguely familiar clearing.
"Good, you're finally awake. Now, let me finish what you started, Bittertongue."