Flight Of The Black Dragon
Chapter One: The Black Dragon Inn - Part Two
The woman flashed a dazzling smile and held out her hand, greeting the gnome in his own language. “Mr Butterburn, its a pleasure to meet you! They call me PG, and many thanks for the welcome.”
Switching to the common language she continued. "Have you seen any groups of adventurer types around? I often find their stories and company agreeable. I myself am newly arrived in Bandjur and have never heard of this Dragon Lord, so perhaps while I wait perhaps you could tell me the tale? I do love a good story! Oh yes, almost forgot! Could you give me a glass of white wine, and a small plate of whatever today’s special is?"
PG handed over the silver needed and leaned on the bar nonchalantly, waiting for her story, and also hoping for companionship. She sighed to see the great room completely empty of all but her and the cheerful innkeeper. She had been a long while on the road on her own, and would definitely not say no to some lively conversation – especially if it was with any young (not to mention good looking) men or elves.
Banny bustled around in the kitchen and settled PG at the bar with a plate of hot stew, a loaf of fresh bread and her glass of wine. With a gleeful smile he leaned forward over the counter and rubbed his hands.
"Well now, there's many a story I could tell you about this old tavern. She's as old as the hills they say, there's stones in this here building go back a thousand years or more. Aye, and these walls have seen a fair bit. Some folks round here say she's haunted, that they hear strange noises here at night, but none that has ever slept here says so."
He grinned widely "In fact they do say a sleep here is the sweetest any where in Faerun, and the dreams are the most peaceful you will ever have. Me, well I wouldn’t sleep anywhere else. It just wouldn't seem right"
There was a sudden, loud bang as the door was slammed fully open. The pair at the bar looked up startled as a stocky red bearded dwarf stomped noisily in. His dented but well cared for plate mail rattled noisily as he sat down at an empty table. Grey eyes glared and PG and Banny from a heavily scarred, scowling face. In contrast to the battered and weather beaten appearance of the rest of him the dwarf’s magnificent beard was plaited in two long braids and tucked neatly in his belt.
"Hey, you, barkeep! Whatcha starin’ at. I need a swig of some strong dwarven ale and a meal to keep me goin'"
With a mischievous wink at PG Banny scurried to fill the rude dwarfs order. While he waited for the food and ale, the newcomer stared around the room till his eye fell on the painting of the man in black. He muttered in a rough, growling undertone "So is dat the guy who’s obsessed with all this durned black here? And why in Moradin's name would you name a tavern after a wyrm?"
As he waited continued to mutter loudly to himself, mainly uncomplimentary remarks about the tavern with a few choice words about women dressed in armour thrown in for good measure.
The innkeeper beamed at his new customer as he laid the platter of stew and bread in front of him, with a good mug of foaming ale on the side. “Banny Butterburn at your service.”
To his credit Banny’s smile didn’t slip as the dwarf answered him through a mouthful of soup, splattering gravy over the gleaming tabletop.
“Darjeen, at yours” With that the dwarf returned to his food and continued to eat as noisily as before.
PG’ s eyebrow quirked up in amusement. This gruff little man was more entertaining than irritating. Mind you his two-headed axe looked as if it had seen a considerable amount of fighting and that big crossbow could do some serious damage. Best to get on his good side then – the dwarf was not as much of a joke as he appeared.
The svelt half-elf muttered to Banny "Well I might be interested in booking a room later if I get lucky!"
She slipped him a quick wink. "For now I think I'll go chat to that young Dwarf over there, for its well known, when a dwarf appears an elf is sure to follow..."
Using all the considerable charm at her disposal sashayed across the room to the dwarf's table; with her grace and experience a simple sashay was so easy and usually highly effective. Her short bobbed hair swung slightly, and her hips even more so. Brushing some food from the seat next to him she sat down and she fixed him with the full brilliance of her smile. "Well hello and well met son of Moradin! Do you mind a little company while you eat?"
Before the dwarf could even reply she continued "You can call me PG, and I just know we're going to be SUCH friends!"
Satisfied with her efforts she leant back and waited. Now, that should have done it!
Momentarily stunned by the brilliant smile, Da'ar choked on his food and then growled, "I dunna be Moradin's son! I'm the son of Belton, and me's be his son, Da'arjeen. My friends calls me Da'ar, but everyone calls me Da'arjeen."
Da’ar grunted in unaccustomed concentration. What did this young flibbertigibbet want, prancing around in her daft leather armour? Swallowing the food that was in his mouth, he took another noisy bite then spluttered "I guess yous can join me. Seems to me to be a free bar. Hows you come to be here lassy? And whats yer does fer a livin?"
PG winced slightly as a gobbet of gravy soaked bread landed on her leather breastplate, and she carefully flicked it off with the tip of her finger. With her winning smile just a little dimmed she battled bravely on. "Well I am just passing through when I caught sight of this delightful inn and thought to stop for a meal. As to what I do, that does tend to vary!"
She took a deep breath to compose herself. Her smile back to its full dazzling glory she continued "I started off as a circus performer, and can still walk a high wire if needed, though these days I have mostly been walking the path of adventure! Something I would guess you are no stranger to, judging by your garb."
Da’ar tipped back his head and laughed, treating Banny and PG to a delightful view of the contents of his mouth. This wee lass had balls!
"Aye, I knows me way with this." He said patting the large, two-handed axe leaning against the table. "And dis armor ain't fer looks!"
A gentle tread over the stone flagged floor marked the arrival of yet another customer. A second half elven woman walked gracefully up to the bar. PG eyed her speculatively. This could be opposition. The woman moved with style and grace, and her long blonde hair that flowed down her back in glorious silken waves. The flowing lines of her robes and the arcane runes on her staff marked her as a mage. Damn – her face showed the delicate bones, the fair skin and the flashing green eyes of her elven heritage. This lady could be REAL opposition!
And then the woman turned her gaze on them. Her expression settled into well-worn lines of haughty disdain and her green eyes filled with ice. It was patently obvious she did not approve of either of the disreputable looking pair. With a sniff she turned to the innkeeper and despite his best attempt at a smile she addressed him in a cool and imperious contralto.
“Could I perchance have a bite to eat, and do you stock any of the more drinkable wines? Oh, and barkeep do you have a room left for the night?”
Banny held his breath and fixed a smile on his face while he slowly counted to ten. It was going to be a night of difficult customers, so it was. Before he had the chance to answer the over proud mage yet another customer entered.
Banny sighed in relief at the man’s appearance. At last someone normal! He was a tall, strapping robust man who looked like one who spent a lot of time outdoors. His pleasant olive skin face was well weathered, and had many fine laughter lines round the mouth and eyes. His armour was also somewhat weather beaten, but well cared for and obviously not ornamental, as was the huge long bow that hug from his back. He scanned the room with sharp but friendly eyes and strode purposefully to the bar.
“Evening innkeeper, ma’am. The name’s Kyan. "Hello, I have travelled long and am tired. Give me something good to eat and a drink." Kyan grinned at Banny and thrust out a large, friendly hand.
“And make it the best beer this place has on offer.”
Banny poured the man a tankard of foaming nut brown ale. “Pleased to meet you Kyan. May I just ask whether you will be needing a bed for the night?”
Kyan nodded to the barman, and then took a seat at the far end of the table where the dwarf and the half – eleven woman sat in deep conversation. Anything to get away from the icy and supercilious look the other woman had just given him!
With a deep happy sigh he sipped his beer, and then waited for his meal listening to his neighbours who appeared to have much more to say than he did.
"Whatcha fer?" Da'ar growled, not liking to be listened, "Ye want to listen then ye gots to talk. Mes no likes strangers, I's be Da'arjeen, my friends call me Da'ar, but everyone calls me Da'arjeen."
Slightly startled by the gruff dwarf's outburst, PG directed her attention to the interesting but weather-beaten face of the man at the next table.
"Yes please do come and join us", she says. "We're just getting acquainted with each other ourselves. I am called PG, adventurer and explorer, seeker after lost treasures and battler of beasties, be they large or small. What should we call you?"
She then whispered to Da'ar in dwarven "Sure he is a big one!"
Kyan looked up at the pair "They call me Ken Yan, but you can call me Kyan."
He hesitated briefly "Sure, I guess I might as well join you, you do seem friendly enough. Unless Da'ar has any reservations about it?"
"Well hello then Kyan!", PG replied cheerfully."We were just starting to talk about adventuring and the like. Have you had much experience?"
Kyan couldn’t help but notice the lifted eyebrow and slight, breathy giggle that went with this reply. Somehow it seemed practised and automatic, as if it was something the half elf was not fully aware of doing.
"I myself am some what of a scout, I'd judge Da'ar here to be a warrior," PG went on with another laugh. "Though lets face it that guess wasn't difficult! I think you are probably a scout of sorts too, mayhaps a woodland one?”
The weather beaten man offered up a quiet little smile to PG. 'Yes, I am a ranger indeed, and quite at home in woodlands and scouting. And yes, I've had my share of adventure too.'
He ignored the rude uncouth dwarf and the icy mage and kept his friendly but inquisitive gaze fixed on the charming human woman. His expression was superficially bland and emotionless, but a second glance showed that he was deep in thought. PG frowned a little – what ever it was that could have triggered this, he appeared to be keeping it strictly to himself.
As Kyan introduced himself, and moved down the table Banny and the tall icy mage leaned on the bar for a few minutes fascinated by the conversation playing out in front of them. It took them a few moments to notice that yet another traveller had silently entered the tavern. It was another woman, dressed in battered plate covered with a light coloured loose travelling cloak that emphasised her olive skin, and glossy blue black hair. There was an exotic cast to her face, adding mystery to her black eyes.
The newcomer slipped quietly into a corner table, saying nothing till Banny wiped his hands busily on his apron and bustled over to her. The lady looked up and introduced herself as Assan. Her speech was laced with a heavy and musical accent Banny couldn’t quite place. She ordered a platter of vegetables, asked for a bed for the night and retreated back into her original silence.
The lively PG continued to talk “The young lady at the bar listening in I would say was a magician of some type from the staff, though I suppose she could be a priest"
She turned to that bar and flashed her best welcoming smile at the women standing there. There was an obvious invitation in PG’s voice, and the magician turned a cool, assessing gaze on her. Perhaps she should humour this young human woman and join the oddly assorted group at the big central table. Her voice was icy calm as she spoke to PG “Flattery will get you nowhere young one and it is very observant of you to notice that I am indeed a mage.”
PG winced visibly at the sarcastic edge to the last comment, but the magician chose not to soften her tone.
“My name is Ceylar by the way.” This remark seemed to be addressed to no one in particular. Her probing gaze turned to the far corner where the diffident young woman sat alone. Ceylar’s eyes narrowed. There was more to this lady than met the eye.
The door banged as yet another customer entered. This was the first to actually close the door behind her. She was a svelte lady with a distinctly oriental cast to her features; her dark hair cropped short at the front and caught up in a knot at the back. She was dressed in clothing that was neat and functional, but definitely not ostentatious. A simple quarterstaff was tied across her back, and she seemed to be carrying no other weapons or armour.
Banny bustled forward again. “Banny Butterburn’s the name. Welcome to the Black Dragon Inn. Will you be needing some refreshments and a room?”
“Good evening Mr Butterburn, you may call me Twai. Yes, I require a room if you please. Mind it is a clean room, with fresh sheets though. And may I have a plate of steamed vegetables, not too well cooked, and a slice of roasted meat if you have it, but please, no gravy. Oh, and don’t salt the vegetables, I prefer to do this for myself.”
Twai cast an appraising and somewhat suspicious glance around the room. Immediately she noticed a few adventurers at the central table, obviously in the throes of introducing themselves. This was promising; it could be just what she had been looking for.
The newcomer sat down at a small table, immediately next to the big central table, and absently polished the already gleaming surface with her sleeve, flicking off imaginary crumbs. She carefully rested her backpack next to her on the ground, and simply waited for her meal while avidly listening to the conversation at the next table. Her ears pricked up, waiting for those all-important words "dangerous situations" and "desperate call for help" to come up, words that would sound like music to her ears.
Banny smiled as he busied himself in the kitchen preparing Twai’s simple but precisely ordered meal. It was the busiest night he had seen in months! Why, the great room was turning into a regular adventurers rendezvous. He mentally ticked the patrons off as he chopped, peeled and iced.
That PG was a bit of a rogue if he ever saw one, probably knew her way round locks and traps. The leather armour was a dead give away – she was a lady who relied on stealth and agility as much as force and weapons. It went without saying that Ceylar was a magician. Someone so sure of her own superiority had no doubt studied at one of the great schools.
Banny smiled involuntarily as he thought of Da’ar the dwarf. He hadn’t missed the disdainful comments about women in armour, and there he sat in Banny’s great room, surrounded by women adventurers. He was easy as well, a fighter. Probably just a simple, rough and ready warrior by the looks of him. Kyan was an easy pick as well. The hearty and friendly man was a ranger if ever he’d seen one.
That left the two somewhat more difficult women to place. The quiet one in the corner, what was her name? Assan, that was it. She was a bit of a puzzle. Banny frowned in concentration ... plate mail yes, but what was she carrying? Oh, it was a mace, a sling and a shield. He grinned broadly. A cleric, Assan had to be a cleric as no one else used such a daft combination. Twai the picky lass with no armour other the quarterstaff was some sort of martial arts experts. Weren’t they usually monks or something?
He piled the carefully prepared food onto a spotlessly clean plate and checked that his best cutlery was beyond reproach. He loaded it onto a tray with a clean napkin and made his way carefully back into the great room again. As he passed by the painting he couldn’t help but look at the old “dragon lord”. What were the odds against there being six adventurers in his Inn at one time, and no two the same? All it needed now was a bard and some sort of fancy fighter and he would have the full set.
“Well, old man. Are you up to something.” Banny shook his head and chuckled. He was getting foolish in his old age. Talking to pictures, whatever next?
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There is only one kiwidoc, accept no substitutes
STANDARD OPERATING PROCEEDURE
www.judyhope.co.uk
[This message has been edited by kiwidoc (edited 06-04-2001).]