Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/Deathwyrm the Delicate

The early morning sun cast long shadows into the city of Talex. At the Eastern Gate stood a man.

Tall, broad, muscular. A rugged, close-shaved face; scarred, one ear a twisted, misshapen mess. Forearms like those of a blacksmith, shoulders like a bull.

"Since the day yer mother pushed ya out into this world," Lars Tomarsen said, "I've been waiting fer this moment."

He studied his son before continuing.

"I fed ya raw goat meat since ya were yeah-high, but not an once of it stuck ta yer ribs."

"I served ya proper mead since ya were five years old ta build yer tolerance fer booze, but still ya pukes on yer second beer."

"I made ya sleep every night on the roof, rain er shine, winter er summer,ta build up yer constitution, but still ya get sick from the slightest draft."

"I gave ya a name ta make men fear ya, and still ya've never won a fistfight."

"I gave ya a wooden sword fer yer first an only toy, ta make a warrior out a ya, and still ya'd rather...". He swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"Yer a complete and total disappointment to me. I don't know whose seed yer from - yer mother's an honest woman, but it can't be mine. The Aenil must have switched ya at birth."

"Well, now yer Duchess needs ya. This is yer chance ta make something of yerself. Get out there, and don't come back til yer a hero, er yer dead."

With that, he turned his back and marched off toward the center of the town.

Dragonwyrm watched him leave. His father was right, he knew - he was the most unsuitable swordsman in the realm. Well, that would change! Starting now, he would be tough and mean, a warrior to the core.

He would start by fighting side by side with the Duchess in Larmebsi. He mounted his horse and, calling his men to follow, heaed off to join in the battle in the neighboring region. -

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

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Battle! He had been in a battle! In the front ranks - the men had even charged in the right direction, and everything.

Deathwyrm thrilled at the battle report. There they were, right in the center of the line, smashing through the enemy militia, chasing down the archers...why, they had even had a successful loot!

He was about to reach for a pen and parchment, to tell his father the good news, when he saw a name.

"Oh, no!" he groaned. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no! What is she doing here?"

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

"Yes, good, good!" Deathwyrm said gleefully. "We'll show them we know how to loot!"

"Uhm...sire..." he sergeant said, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Yes, and that sign there, with the lovely cat wearing those boots..bring theat, too, if you please."

"Sire...uhm..."

"What is it, man? Can't you see we're...Oh. Where did they come from?" Deathwyrm stared at the angry mob. "Uhm, okay...let's move out..."

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

Deathwyrm's brow furrowed.

He was quite sure he was supposed to be moving to Erahol. He knew that if he tried to turn around now and head off in a different direction, he would be caught in Ornaz by the incoming troops.

"Best to keep going," he reasoned.

He also wondered who had attempted to loot after the peasant mob had appeared.

"What a yipyog!" he said, in the Talex dialect.

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

Deathwyrm and his three remaining men crept up to the top of the ridge and looked down in the next valley.

"Talex Guards!" exclaimed one soldier happily. "And there - that's the City!"

Deathwyrm felt a sense of relief come over him. Almost home! With a purse full of looted gold!

True, he had lost most of his men in the small battles along the way, but at least they had died killing the enemy. This was a good start to his military career.

Now, if he could just figure out where his sister had run off to...

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

The big bull of a man turned from the small cluster of officers to face his son. He looked at him wordlessly, studying his bruised and dirtied face, the hole in his shoulder mail, the brown cloth bags he held in his hands.

"I'd like ta hear yer tale this time," he said. "Where have ya bin?"

Deathwyrm tossed the bags to his feet, where they landed with a heavy metallic clunk.

"Out fighting," he answered. "And looting. Was wounded in one of the fights, so a little slow getting back."

His father stared at him, and at the bags on the ground. A broad smile came to his face.

"So ya have, so ya have!" he beamed. "C'mon - there are undead near the western gate, but we have time fer a pint befer ya reports ta the Duchess."

With his arm around his son's shoulder, the two men walked off to the nearest tavern.

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

Deathwyrm strolled up to the area near the western gate where the men were forming ranks for the coming attack. He seemed somewhat... relaxed.

"YOUR GRACE," he said, staggering to a kneeling position in front of her. "DEATHWYRM AND THE DEATHWYRMS, AT YER SERVICE."

He rose clumsily to his feet. He stood still for a moment, lightly swaying as if to some distant beat.

"OH, RIGHT!" he remembered with a start. "WHERE DO YOU WANT US?"

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

"In Arempos?" Deathwyrm exclaimed. "What was she doing in Arempos?"

The messenger stood stoically in front of his liege, not making any attempt to answer.

"Well - Keep her out of trouble for a while, I suppose."

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

---

Deathwyrm led the men out the main gates of Remton.

"Be careful, please," he instructed them. "The paint is still wet."

He looked at the trailing wagon critically. "I don't think that yellow matches the grain color I was after," he thought. "The fake shadowing worked, though."

"C'mon, men," he said out loud. "We need to get this food to Talex double time."

He picked up the pace, thoughts of being hailed as a hero swirling through his head.

The men said nothing.

Deathwyrm Tomarsen (Knight of Talex)

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