Crowley-Assless and Alone
The Never Ending Quest - Episode 19145
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Crowley landed on the hard ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs and
banging his head badly. He cursed. The ass paid no heed to it's lost rider
and continued it's frenzied dash through the green, rolling hills. The fall was not bad enough to knock the man out, however, and he soon regained his wits and managed to stand up. It had been a dreary two weeks since he had left Mudspot. The village could not even afford horses for it's messengers, going by foot would probably have been faster than taking the fat ass. The dragon should have been dead for around two weeks now, he reckoned. He rubbed his sore head. "Some foul bit of devilry or sorcery is at work!" He grumbled. The headless lizard continued it's flight northwards and the shadow that had engulfed the hills now passed, replaced by warm sunlight once again.Crowley then thought he heard horses approaching, and soon there was no doubt about it. A ways down the road a group of mounted knights were riding towards him very quickly. There looked to be thirty of them or so, and of very high stature. When they were within five yards they halted and one of the men rode forward. He wore bright ringmail and bore a kite shield with a golden gryphon expertly wrought into the metal. The icon identified the man as a D'Honaire. Another man rode forward as well. His horse was of a northern breed, and he carried a smaller shield with the emblem of a white stag upon it. The man with the bright ringmail spoke first: "Hail, stranger! I am Duke Drederigo D'Honaire of Suffex! I have been sent by his excellency, King Emry, to search out and aid my son Frederigo the Dragon- Hunter. He has sent twenty of his own guards to help me. We have sped like the wind from the King's City and have come this far south in under two weeks. I have many questions, you would do best to answer them honestly and swiftly. Was that your mule we saw, running through the hills ahead of you?"Crowley nodded. "Aye, Lord." Drederigo's eyes widened. "Then you hail from one of the hamlets under the shadow of the mountains!? Have you heard any news of a Dragon-Hunter named Frederigo!?""Indeed!" Crowley exclaimed. "Infact, I have been sent here by Elder Benchley of Mudspot to report the good news. The Dragon is slain and your son and several others are being treated very well back in my village!" The Duke gave him a puzzled look. "Then what was that thing that just flew by, towards Penn!?""I cannot say, sire! The foul beast was said to be beheaded! And Indeed it is! Although whether it is dead or not I am not sure." The man with the white stag upon his shield then spoke. "I am Lord Hasilfur Stoorlocke of the Noreast Fief, a cousin of the Dragon- Hunter. Are you positive this man was really Frederigo, and not some trick or conjured image? Did he carry the D'Honaire sword?"Crowley wasn't sure how to answer. "Well...one of the travelers did carry the D'Honaire sword. A southerner, some warrior woman from the uncouth sweltering jungles or somewhere like it." The riders did not respond. They turned their horses with astonishing speed and rode towards Penn, the other knights following close behind.Crowley cursed and grumbled. Would he ever get a simple mug of ale and a decent sleep? *** *** ***Fred and Mayderry stood by the stream, gazing thoughtfully at the clear rushing water. They had nearly brought Zular to his knees, but not quite yet. "Zular should be here any minute, be on your guard, Mayderry." Fred said after a long silence. Mayderry nodded. He hoped the meeting would go their way. He signaled to one of the many hidden Fellows of the Black Hand hidden in the trees and underbrush that all was still safe and clear.The last week had brought many unexpected victories and many new friends. Zular did not have too many of those, it seemed. Even in his own duchy. Especially in his own duchy. The Fellows of the Black Hand and Fred had went from village to village throughout Trescent. At every stop they seemed to gain a hundred more followers, especially amoung the peasants.Trescent was a small duchy, and well-peopled. There were few forests and they had been guarded for years now and maintained as Zular's private hunting grounds. A person caught for trespassing would be beaten and jailed. A person caught collecting wood would loose a hand and a nose. A person caught with a bow or any weapon in the forests would be slain. In recent years it had began to grow worst, however. The Duke was said to be loosing his sanity. Ever since his quest to the Dead Sea he had been a changed man. He would constantly mutter to himself or babble incoherently.The woods began to spawn dark things. A curse of black snakes would pour out of the forests at night and attack and devour the babies of the people who dwelt near the borders of the woods. What was most disturbing was the mark upon their heads. For it was plain as day to see, the Allarian *rune for 'M' in fiery red (*The ancient Allarian alphabet, probably based and adapted from the old Geldan runic characters. The runic alphabet is over one thousand years old, at least). Did it stand for Mollari? In one village, inparticularly, they had been very succesful...
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Ib
3/12/2002 9:39:58 AM
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