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Professor Gloom
Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082
of Depression

0 posted 2005-07-09 08:40 PM



It was at The Weary Traveler’s Inn, a bit before Sunset on a late spring day, and in came a gentleman, although granted a brutish looking gentleman in tan leathers and a bit too mush steel showing for such a civilized town.  He went straight to the bar, not a table first like most people did, and order a goblet of wine.  He drank it straight down without a pause.  Now the Inn had some goodly sized goblets, so this was quite a throw back, and before he had finished in came two of the Town guards.
“Now give me another to take to a table, and bring me a pie, for I have had a harrowing experience with who you fine folk call the Scarlet Count.”  As he took his drink to the closest table his words had gotten the attention of the entire room.  Some where amazed, others just thought him a liar knowing someone doesn’t see the Scarlet Count and live to tell about it.  “Ah, I see you sir don’t believe me.” He said in a brassy voice to a man sitting at the next table to where he had plopped down in a thud and a clatter. “ and if I’d had known more about him, I would have been more scared, but ask them two guard fellows, they know.”  As he waved the goblet at the two guards and then motioned them to sit at the table with him.  They larger of the two confirmed that as he said, that’s what it seems to have happened.

“Well let me tell you about it then and you judge if it was he.”  He took another great gulp and put down the goblet and began.  “I was just leaving my room at the Sheep’s Head and was heading here to the inn for some mushroom and onion pie, which goes well with the white wine here at the inn.  Being some what hungry and thus a bit of a hurry,  I went through the alley as a short cut.  There in the turn of the alley wasn't something or someone I would have searched for, but I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time as I walked around the corner.  A man in scarlet cape over black and a black broad brimmed hat with a plume of scarlet, but most noticeably a drawn sword with blood on it.  Naturally I drew my sword, it's what you do in such a situation.  Perhaps he should have run, perhaps I should have ran instead of drawing my blade, but he slashed and I blocked. He quickly lunged and I barely was able to parry.  Who ever he was he was fast and very good with a sword.  Certainly better than I was and he lunged again and I parried and backed.  Defense was all I could manage.  Two slashes came quickly and he was smiling.  He knew he was better than I was so I needed to do something unexpected, and then an extra weapon might help.  At the next lunge I took his blade high and pushed into him forcing him to step backward to maintain balance.  I had used two hands to get extra muscle  so I switched the sword to my left hand and spun back at him slashing towards his head.  He ducked.  I missed his head, but did cut off part of his plume. Since I now had my sword in my left hand, I couldn't pull my long dagger on my belt, unless I went cross body.  Being in a hurry I pulled the psi from my boot.  Now normally I don't think of it as a weapons as much as a boot support.   I've always had weak ankles and my boot maker added one to each boot, sort of like decorations. Today they came in handy and I threw it at his leg hoping to at least nick him and slow him down a bit.  As luck would have it he tripped as it stuck into the ground catching the tip of his boot causing him to stumble.  This was my opportunity to really slow him down and I changed my sword back to my right hand for a powerful stab.  I said he was fast and he rolled away so I barely was able to slash a leg drawing a bit of blood.”  At this point he took a deep drink and let out a sigh.  “That slight pause to switch, who’d have thought that would have been so critical”
“You wounded him?” came the shocked response from one of the patrons.
“Only a slight wound”  He hung his head slightly as he continued.  “Having a man down before me and steel in my had and he lived is not something to which I am accustomed.”  And then he drained the goblet before continuing the story, which by this time had almost the entire room leaning toward him and listening.  Not that he was hard to listen to with a voice that easily filled the room, but it was seldom heard encounter.
“Now he was on his feet and facing me quickly and perhaps I should have pressed my attack, but I drew my other boot psi and took up a guard position I had learned on my travels.  It was a defensive stance to maximize the time of battle when the opponent has been bloodied so he can weaken.  He made a couple of quick slashes and thrusts, but I could see he wasn’t moving like he was before.  Then voices came from the street.  I guess we had finally be heard.  He brought he sword up in a salute, turned and ran off.  It was then I noticed the man laying in pool of blood in the alley.  The Guards came rushing up as I put away my weapons, and picked up the bit of plume.”  The tan clad gentleman  reached into his pocket and pulled out a bit of feather just as the pie was delivered by the rather rotund waitress.  She had to push her way through the crowd to get to the table.  She returned to the table many times that evening with goblets of free wine for the man.  Seems everyone wanted to buy him a drink as he retold the story over and over.

Gloom

© Copyright 2005 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved
Larry C
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Patricius
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286
United States
1 posted 2005-07-10 03:19 AM


Ya' know Prof,
You just keep doing stories that require sequels. Then there aren't any sequels. So is that like writers procrastination? You know where you start something but never finish it...

Fun write as always. Thanks.

If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again.

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