[Calaethis Dragonsbane]

Nivram took another sip from his almost empty flagon of ale. Given the cheapness of the atrociously bad ale in the tavern the flasks of rice wine had been put aside for the evening.

Jokes about the pitiful taste and alcohol content of the beer had been already well exhausted and even though the beer was weak the quantity was starting to show on both of the weary travellers.

"I need a piss," Nivram said, sending the bar stool crashing to the ground as he came off it. Unceremoniously he stepped outside, unbuttoning his pants while he was still in the tavern. Not seeing any readily available spot, his target became the wall of the tavern. From the look of things he wasn't the first to choose the spot.

Asikol shook his head, and continued to nurse his flagon - which is to say, barrel.

Nivram returned from his quest to relieve himself, totally forgetting about rebuttoning his pants and righting his bar stool on the third attempt sat back on it.

"It's been a long time since I've gotten drunk without really thinking about the reason I had for drinking," he said, his voice soft despite the alcohol rushing through his veins. "It is good to occasionally let go." He sighed and emptied the remainder of his flagon, sadly watching the last drops from it disappear.

"I agree," Asikol murmured his agreement, then cleared his throat, "However, if one is not so far gone, perhaps one would be best served by... attending to one's wardrobe functions too, lest the denizens of ye olde establishment be less than pleased." His accent had changed, sounding vaguely familiar. Who else did Nivram know who spoke in a similar fashion?

"I think we need another drink," Nivram added after a long pause, apparently not noticing that Asikol's 'barrel' was still more than half full. "Barkeep! Barkeep!" The man did not seem to notice. "Hey, whatever your name is!" That seemed to catch the man's attention and in short order he was pouring two more flagons of the piss they called beer. Nivram almost remarked on the bad quality of the stuff but then did not think the remark worthwile.

"So, my dear friend. How the heck did you ever end up in this unhospitable corner of the world?"

"That, my friend, is an excellent question. One to which I lack an answer of substance, for I have, upon many nights such as this, pondered it myself. Ah, but my quest for the damsal continues, leading me onwards and forwards, to glory and..." He drained his flagon, almost in disgust.


"And yes, that's it." He rose to his feet, and struck a dramatic pose, "I am off to rescue my maiden fair from the clutches of an evil cult, led by a vile, vile sect of men, and my father was a dragon! Three cheers for the lady of the -" He frowned, "Moonriver, in your tongue. Silvermoonriver. Oh dash it all. She is the maiden of the mists, of the twilight stars, and the silver rivers below. Her name is that of a blue flower, the fairest of them all."

Asikol sat down again.

Nivram put his hand on Asikol's shoulder.

"You'd better sit down my dear drunkard friend. I can see you're barely able to stand. Nurse that flagon instead. And now tell me of this river. I've never heard of it."

He withdrew his hand, placing it on his own drink.

"Well, it is the river than runs through my father's estates." His eyes darkened, as if he had set aside his jesting for once. "From the loney peaks of the snow-clad mountains, it runs down, through the vales and fertile plains that make up the steppes of my home. It is named the 'silver river' because of the grains of silver-ore she brings. There is a legend that once the moon gazed upon her, and saw her own reflection staring back, and so, fell in love with her. Yes, our tale tells of a feminine moon falling for a feminine river. Strange, no? Once, the tale says, the two engaged in an act of forbidden love, and I forget the rest. It's folly anyway; how can a river be a she, or a mountain a him?"

"Well it is said that a ship is a she, because it can be such a bitch that only women can be so bad. Maybe the story is somewhat along the same lines. A she-river that acts bad all the time, coming forth from its banks and a stoic old he-mountain that never does anything bad."

"A thought the sea was a she too..." Asikol groaned, "By the Twelve Lords, this is swill. Barkeep! I commanded your best!"

The man gave him a filthy look.

"Fine, fine," Asikol muttered, "I'll drink it and ye'll have my coin." Under his breath, he grouched, "Swill of swines."

"Yeah...even piss has more alcohol in it than this...this...whatever it is," Nivram added, grumbling under his breath. "Whoever serves coloured water like this would deserve his tavern burnt to the ground."

"Aye." Asikol rose steadily to his feet with more grace than he had any right to. It was almost as if he wasn't half as drunk as Nivram. On the other hand, he had only drunk half his barrel. "I need to relieve myself. Finish up here, my dear and faithful friend; I shall join you in the stable."

"I've heard they have dry straw that burns well in the stable," Nivram added only half-joking.

"Quiet you fool! Do you want the world to know?!" Asikol leant down and hissed in his ear. Where had Nivram heard such a tone before?

Drunk as he was, Nivram was not in the least preoccupied with voices he had maybe heard in his past. He grabbed a candle from the bar, and with his other hand took the remainder of the beer, balancing all precariously. "On to the stables then! Lead the way, Asok...Asik...whatever!"

Picking up his barrel, Asikol turned and declared, "And they shall fear His coming, for with Him shall come judgement, fire and wrath! From the Stars He ascended, so too, from the Stars He shall return. Banishment shall not hold Him, nor Death imprison Him for all shall fear the day when He returns. His brides shall proclaim His name and fire shall consume the unbelievers." He paused, "Or so the legends claim. Tradition dictates His words are recited, lest we never forget why we have ale. Farewell!" And under his breath added, "Accursed filth. No one serves such swill."

With that, he was gone leaving the tavern staring at him as they shook their heads; those that bothered. Another crazy madman.


As soon as they arrived in the stables, Nivram accidentally dropped the candle he had been holding, which fell onto the dry straw covering the ground. Flames started dancing merrily.

"Whoops." Asikol looked remarkably unconcerned with the newest development. "Pity that. I guess I should attempt to put it out." So he attempted... alas, his... water was not quite enough to douse the flames. "Time to go."

"Yes...I wonder whether this craphole has another tavern..."

"I doubt it. I saw but one on the way in." Grabbing his horse as the stableboy ran around screaming wildly, Asikol seemed oddly unfazed by all of this. "Onwards, then! In search of fair maidens and drink!"

What better quest was there?

(Written with Dplax)