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And so Diana the mysterious stranger and Fred the knight went across field
and hill and dale in their attempt to warn the king as soon as
possible. Fortunately a few of the village homes had survived relatively intact, allowing Diana to get a more worthwhile pair of traveling clothes on. She wore tight grey leggings, a dark purple blouse two sizes too big for her and a pair of leather shoes that embraced her feet like the sauna mud of her home town. She still felt miserable and crappy and she was getting a migraine but the sight of the dead villagers remained with her and reminded her that she and Fred had to warn the king soon. And she was contributing. She could not fight worth a darn but she could stand gaurd and did so many times. This felt new to her. Making a difference. Her family wasn't the richest around but they still had servants. Normally Diana's clothes were washed by herself, her meals were prepared and when the Flying Feldars had made a mess of the upstairs tea room, she had been shooed out until it was done and all the Feldars sent off to the recovery fields outside of town. The swift travel hurt her legs but it was a good hurt. She noticed that at night her clothes were a tad looser. She wasn't starving, she was burning off her 'love handles', as Fred had said. (Her servants always said she looked just fine. But that's what they paid them for). The sword she had been given, stolen from a dead orc, rested easier in her hands, for Fred had taken time to give her a few hours of practice. And she had several nights to ponder all this for Fred felt they needed to take the long way around to the castle. Finally, blessedly, the castle was in sight.
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4/30/2003 11:12:40 AM
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