Chapter
Two
Olak noticed a smudge on the
horizon, which slowly revealed itself to be a town. Most likely Drowed, the town
indicated by the signpost as being in this general direction. He kicked Aman
lightly with
his heels, and the gelding turned his head and fixed Olak with a long
suffering look, but increased his speed gradually until he was at a slow canter. The
town grew larger, and Olak was able to pick out individual buildings. As he got
closer, he noticed something strange. There was little to no activity on the
outskirts of town. Maybe it was market day, and everyone was in the town
square. Yes, that must be it. He didn't notice a small child slipping away from
the roadside, racing in between the buildings.
As Olak reached the outlying
buildings, he reined in. Aman was more than happy to drop back into a walk, although
this one was a bit faster than before. The gelding knew towns meant stables, food and no traveling, at least
for a short time. As they made their way through the town to the square, Olak became aware of a sound, the droning
of people all together in a group. As he made his way into the open, he saw the town's
inhabitants gathered around a platform. On the platform was a group of young people
all dressed in identical white robes, with crowns of ivy and flowers on their
heads. There was an older man was on the dais as well, holding a jar and speaking to the crowd. As Olak rode closer, the
man noticed him, and stopped in mid-sentence. As all the people in the square turned to
look at him, Olak pulled Aman to a stop, and nervously raised a
hand in greeting. Something wasn't right here, but Olak was not sure just what
exactly was going on.
The man on the platform came
quickly down the steps, handing the jar to a younger man standing at the bottom
of the stairs. He hurried over to Olak. "Good Morrow Sir, may I enquire
whether or not you are a Knight?"
Olak nodded. "I am. What's going on here? Are
you in need of a Knight's services?" He inquired, glancing around the
square at the sea of faces turned to him. The people on the dais clasped their hands and
looked hopeful. Olak dropped his head and smiled a little to himself. Things were
looking like they might actually pan out for once.
The man nodded. "We are! If
you would be so kind as to dismount, I would be more than happy to explain it
to you, Good Knight! Come, we will go to the inn." He waited until Olak had
dismounted, and then led him to a building off to one side of the town square.
A sign with a bright red ear of corn, with a foaming mug and a leg of fowl
underneath it proclaimed the building's identity.
A rotund man standing in the
doorway wearing an apron turned to yell over his shoulder. "Zusi, get out
here, we got a customer!" A short young girl with dark hair in an untidy braid down her back squeezed past the
innkeeper, and came up to Olak, smiling shyly.
"I'm the stablegirl, Sir Knight. If you would tell me
your warsteed's name, I will take him to the stable and care for him." the
girl told Olak.
He handed her the reins.
"His name is Aman, and he is fond of carrots. If he gets stubborn on you,
offer him a carrot, and he will do whatever you want, happily." he told
her.
Zusi giggled, turned to the horse and held her
hand out palm up for the beast to smell. Aman whuffled her palm, and dipped his head
so she could scratch his nose. The girl obliged, and then told the horse,
"Come on Aman, I have some carrots and a nice warm
stall for you." She turned and tugged on the reins, heading around to the back of
the building, where Olak guessed the stables must be. Aman followed her
eagerly, and Olak stepped to the door of the inn. The innkeeper moved aside, and once
Olak entered, he hustled the knight to a table.
"Welcome to Drowed and the Red Corn Inn. I am Daffyth, the innkeeper. What be your pleasure
this fine afternoon?" He didn't wait for an answer, but turned and yelled
over his shoulder, "Lurie! A meal for our guest!" He trotted over to
the bar, sliding behind it. He tapped the keg behind the bar and brought a mug
of good brown ale to the table. "You just start on that Sir Knight, and
your meal will be out shortly." He bustled away back to the bar, and
pulling out a rag, began polishing the already gleaming bar top.
Olak took a sip, and nodded happily. The ale was excellent, Daffyth certainly knew his brewing. He had
high hopes that the meal would be as good. He was starving, it had been a long
while since his midday meal of bread and a turnip. Olak was accustomed most of his life to eating well, and once
his Royal father cut off his funds, he had to make due with whatever he could
get.
A shadow crossed the door, and the man from
the platform entered the inn.
He navigated the room to Olak's
table. "May I sit, Sir Knight? I have need of some business I must discuss
with you, and it cannot wait."
Olak waved his mug at the chair
across the table and leaned back in his chair. The man seated himself, and raised a finger
to Daffyth, who brought him a mug of ale, then returned to his polishing. Olak looked
across the table at the man. He was tallish, with the pot gut and slightly oily
skin that spoke of rich foods and good living. His hair was a middling brown,
thinning on top and hung in longish limp locks, framing his face. He was dressed in better
clothes than most of the townspeople, a maroon velvet coat with a white shirt
under it. No one who did manual labor for a living wore such clothes. Some sort
of local official most likely.
The man took a sip, then set his
mug down on the table. "My name is Kreed Dogin, and I'm mayor here in Drowed. As time is of the essence, I’ll get right to the
point. I'm sure you noticed we were holding a lottery when you
arrived." Olak nodded. An older woman wearing a huge apron that
covered nearly
her
entire body came out of the kitchen bearing a massive platter of food, which
she set in front of Olak. He nodded thanks to her and she dimpled at him and returned to the kitchen.
The platter held a huge slab of beef ribs, a bowl of roasted root vegetables
and a steaming loaf of crusty bread, already split open and slathered in fresh melting butter. As this was the
best meal he'd seen in weeks, Olak wasted no time in pulling his eating knife out of his belt pouch
and setting to. He waved a rib at the mayor. "So, what was the lottery
for, anyway?" he asked, taking a bite of the tender beef. "Oh, by the
way, the name's Olak of Dald. I'm out looking for Quests, so I
would be happy to help with any problems you might be having."
The mayor cleared his throat
nervously
and leaned forward in his chair. "Well, you see, we do have a bit of a
problem. Been a problem for a while now, and we've been hoping for a Knight to
come along that could help us." Olak nodded again and reached for his ale to wash down another
bite of succulent meat. "We have a dragon problem."
Olak nearly choked on his swig
of ale, and turned away coughing. He gasped, "A dragon? I don't remember there being tales of any
dragons in this area, just the opposite. Are you sure it's a dragon? Not just a
large lizard or something?"
Kreed Dogin nodded sadly. "Very sure. Once we realized that it really was a dragon, we of course sent people out to investigate it. None returned. After that, we instituted the Lottery, as is traditional in these circumstances."
Kreed Dogin nodded sadly. "Very sure. Once we realized that it really was a dragon, we of course sent people out to investigate it. None returned. After that, we instituted the Lottery, as is traditional in these circumstances."
Olak knew exactly what the mayor
meant. The town would put the names of the ‘eligible’ into a pot, and every time the dragon poked
its snout out of whatever place it was holed up, the townspeople shoved a
tender young person in front of it to distract it from ravaging the
countryside. Barbaric, but effective, as everyone knew Dragons could only be
slain by a Knight, and Knights weren't exactly thick on the ground in Treegan.
Kreed Dogin continued,
"The dragon has taken over a keep a few miles from town. Most of the
Keep's inhabitants fled, but the Lord's daughter was trying to get her maids
out, and ended up being caught in the tower. The dragon keeps her prisoner,
knowing that a hostage is the best way to keep the local people quiet and giving it what it
wants. The Lord was one of the first killed, trying to rescue his daughter, and the rest of the
Household fled."
Olak chewed for a moment, thinking. A Dragon! Now that was a Quest to make
his Name if he ever heard one, and would let him retire as Sir Olak the Dragon Slayer. He could live
comfortably the rest of his life on a reputation like that.
"So, I'm guessing you need
me to slay the beast for you, good fellow?" Olak asked, grinning.
"That is a job for a Hero, after all."
Kreed Dogin inhaled
hugely, eyes round. "Yes, yes, of course! Please, Fair Knight, rid our
town of this evil scourge!"
There, the Request was made. Now
for his Answer. So tiring, these little word games that must accompany any
formal Questing.
Olak set down the rib bone, and leaned forward in
his chair. "Of course, Good Mayor, I will be happy to deal with your
dragon problem." There, formalities out of the way. Now he could finish
his meal in peace.
The mayor blew his breath out in
a huge gust and leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands wide. "Thank you, thank
you Sir Knight! The dragon isn't due tribute until sundown tomorrow, so you and your steed
can rest and we will tell you what we do know about it." Dogin looked up
and waved, and a young woman appeared beside Olak. "This is Kendis, if
you need anything, she will be taking care of you during your stay here in Drowed." Olak glanced over at the young
woman. Buxom, blonde and bouncy, just what he liked. He might just stay a while
after he dealt with the dragon, if the town was properly 'grateful'. The girl wrinkled her nose and
smiled
at him, and dropped a curtsey, batting her eyelashes in a flirt. Yes, things
were definitely looking up.
Olak finished his meal with the girl
Kendis attending to his every need. He decided he ought to stroll around town for a bit, and
see what the townspeople could tell him about the dragon. As he stood up, Kendis
dipped into another curtsey and said coyly "I will make all ready in your room for when you are ready to
return and rest, Sir Knight." She turned and scampered up the stairs to the sleeping
chambers on the second floor.
Olak turned to the innkeeper. "Going
for a walk to stretch my legs, tell your cook that the meal was
excellent."
Daffyth nodded "Many
thanks, I'll let her know. Supper will be ready about sundown, and your room
will be ready then as well. Enjoy your walk."
Very nice! Keep them coming!
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