Oct. Contest Entry #11

[Aredhel]

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Beta-Slot Entry #11

The Inn stood out from the other nearby buildings due to its loud and raukus sounds. It was a meeting place, a sanctuary for diplomats, adventurers and those that crafted their wares through sweat and strength of body. People of all races and professions gathered here nightly to drink their fill, tell their tales and to rejoice in life. Underhanded deals were the normal happenstance, as were boastful comments and claims of incredible feats of heroics. Legends were born from the lies of drunken warriors. Most of the greatest adventures went untold as those that were there, never returned to revel in the glory that their battles entailed.

Silently in a dimly lit corner of the inn sat one such adventurer, his name wasn’t important, nor were the names of those that slowly made their way through the throngs of inhabitants that danced and sang from the inhibition lowering effects from the stout ales being served. His face looked as if it were chiseled from granite, his jaw square, his hair were brown locks that reached the nape of his neck. His shoulders well muscled and his eyes were a deep dark brown, dark as the hollows of a overgrown forest. A slight smile seemed to crease his face, annd as fast as it appeared, it vanished. Another figure sat beside the Barbarian, a smaller lithe figure, that moved through the crowd without as much as a glance from anyone in the Inn. He was obviously of thestrian descent, yet he seemed to be invisible to all the others in the room. He took a seat adjacent to the much larger Barbarian and sat silently, his eyes piercing the workings of the Inn searching for the nearest exits, should the need arise to make a haste departure. The two men sat without speaking to one another as they both eyed the Bard standing in the center of the crowd, playing his lute and singing songs of fools and their dreams of grandeur.

With a bow, and a hearty round of applause, the Bard blew kisses to the maidens that adored him, and promptly excused himself from his performance and ventured towards the two others that sat silently awaiting him.

Approaching the two men, the bard bowed and tipped his cap at the others. “Forgive me for my delay, but my fans demanded I perform for them, and you know well that I do not ever dissappoint my fans.” The Bard uttered his apology.

The larger of the two seated men said nothing, as the smaller, elflike man smiled. “Lebol, tis good to see you my friend, I hope all is well with you.” He stood as he clasped the Bards hand in a firm shake.

Taking a seat across from the other two, the bard scooted his chair forward, leaning closer as if what he had to say heald a sense of urgency. “There are rumours, nay, more than just mere rumours, there is a fear amongst the people that an uprising has begun. Creatures of mythic proportion have been whispered about in the wilds, people from all across the lands are beginning to gear up, taking up arms and are speaking of going out and battling these creatures drawn from the very depths of hell itself.” Lebol whispered so only the two men across from him could hear.

“Tis why we are here Bard, tis why my sword lays at my side, tis why I have begun the gathering.” The larger Barbaric man said in a deep voice.

Commotion from the entrance to the Inn caused all three men to turn their attention to the other side of the room.

“Out of me way, make room, make room blast ye all.” Came a raspy voice from somewhere beyond the throngs of people. “What does it take for all you blasted people to move, sheeps blood mates, move out of me way.” As the voice came closer, a leather clad Dwarf emerged from within the mass of bodies that had previously blocked his way to the others. The bald headed, white bearded face of a very stout, and obviously elder Dwarf appeared, a broad and deep smile creased his face from ear to ear as he roared a loud and hearty belly laugh as he rushed to the table, brushing other patrons of the Inn to the side.

“So it tis true, I have not wasted two weeks journey for nothing, me old mates are coming back together, sheeps blood, I can not believe me own eyes. Lebol, a Bard after me own heart, The keeper of legends and lore, the singer of adventures past and future. I thought I heard your voice wafting through the streets as I came closer.” Turning his eyes to the larger man, the smile diminished slightly, until finally both men burst out in laughter, cluthing one anothers arms in a familiar shake and recognition of past lives and adventures. “Indoran, Indoran Ragewinds, tis a relief to know you are still alive. I had heard rumours of your demise many many years ago, and here you stand befor me now, I can not express how relieved I am. Tis a fine day indeed to see you standing here. And who is this by your side? Could it be? Kaladiann, you old rogue, should I check my purse to make sure it still hangs by my side?” The dwarf laughed yet again as he shook Kaladiann’s hand and the four men all took their seats.

Indoran looks changed from jovial to serious as he stared each of his friends in the face. “I am so glad to see you have all made it here safely, but I suppose you would like to know why I have begun gathering our former fellowship to this desolate Inn?” pausing for a few seconds to allow his companions to grasp his words, the barbarian continued. “Lebol, you have always documented and written prose about our past adventures, well, you shall be called upon to once again chronicle our trials that we shall be faced with very soon.” Indoran Ragewinds waited for Lebols response before continuing.

“Ahh, so I am to recite more sage’s of adventures?”

“Nay, my firned, this time is different, this time it is not for glory, this time it is not for fame, this time my friend it is for our very survival, this time you will not be chronicling a saga of adventure.” Indoran answered.

“Then what will I be recording Indoran? Lebol asked curiously as Thornburg the Dwarven Cleric and Kaladiann the Wood Elf Ranger also waited the reply from their barbarian leader.

“This time, you will be recording a new saga, a Saga of Heroes!” Indoran replied as the crowd noise behind them seemed trifle as a very concerned look glazed over the Barbarians eyes. The four men said nothing as the importance of the upcoming days would spell the very survival of the land.

“The end times are upon us, we shall answer the call.” Indoran stated as he lifted his stein and the four men clinked mugs and together they uttered the words once again.

“Saga of Heroes!”