The Weeping Dragon Tavern
THREE YEARS AGO
Pip the bard strolled into the tavern, he had found that the port city of Norden was not all that exciting but he felt that he would get a tale to write, and this bar is where he will find it. Upon entering the tavern he saw the usual types that frequent a bar such as this, nothing out of the ordinary, just the Empire raffle. That was until he laid eyes on a giant of a man who seemed to have lost himself in his drink, The outside world around him seemed too bleak to be noticed.THREE YEARS AGO
He approached the man but was cautious, afraid that he may accidentally offend him, he sat at a vacant seat next to him.
"Barkeep?! may i bother you for a drink for my friend and I?" the poet said as he motioned rapidly with his hand. The Bartender raised an eyebrow but delivered the ale none the less. The drink was at the man's place but he did not notice, oblivious to the kind gesture.
"This is for you, friend!" Pip said forcefully.
"Nicht reichspeil dat gut" replied the man casually, then returned to his drink, this was a code that Northerners used to get rid of someone...but the Bard knew the response to such a statement.
"You must be a Norsemen then." The bard responded in Norse. The man nodded, his gaze now fixed on the poet, analyzing him, seeing if he posed a threat . "well i would hear your tale then, surely a man such as yourself has a story to tell, and i will have nothing less than to hear it over a couple of the Barkeeps best."
"hahahaha, you're an interesting fellow, i thank you for the drink but i will not sell my story for trinkets of gelt." The man replied.
"well surely you will be open for trade, i noticed that there are no horses outside save mine, and there is not be another horse for miles, say you trade with me then, I heard your people take great value of horses." The bard was already reaching for an ink jar and a quill figuring he had the deal struck.
"you are wrong, that would be the Hung, they use dog-horses... but because i do need a horse for travel i am open to this trade. I am Hünter Corhath, Son of Olan."
"tell me why do you come to these lands?" Asked the poet inquisitively.
"four summers ago, i fought in an glorious battle, but in that battle, i lost everyone that i cared for, so i come down to these forsaken lands." He was now talking in Reichspeil, his tongue was accented but it was still comprehensible.
"a battle?"
"AN EPIC BATTLE! A tale of woe! This story is not for the weak hearted men!" The tavern had directed their complete attention this man of the North.
"it was a cold winters day, the wind in our faces, taunting us. we climbed a HUGE mountain, up this mountain path we went, to glory, to victory, or to our doom, we knew then not which it was, nor did it matter, we climbed for the promise of battle!" The bard, no longer interested in writing, listened in awe as the man's booming voice echoed through the tavern, now everyone was listening attentivly.
"I was the first to the top, as i was the youngest then, and when i reached the top, what was before me would have chilled the bones of a lesser man. The sky, Black like midnight, lightning rippled the sky, the enemy laid before us, its number, too vast for anyone but the gods to count. But i didn't stray, NO, I laughed, for this battle would be stuff of legends. I looked back, not in fear, but in Pride, as my companions climbed to meet me, the force behind me just as numerous ad the one in front." Now Hunter was standing and motioning with his hands, the barkeep was just as enthralled as the next man.
"But there was something there that i had never seen before, a was a massive creature, sporting two foul bird heads and Blue wings as bright as the clearest sky. Its screech pierced through the air like a hundred daggers! I gripped my axe and raised it into the air in contest. I raced down the mountain side, and as my foes came close i slew them, only then that we realized we were outnumbered 10 to 1, but we did not falter! Lo, with my father's axe i killed those around me, after the 8th swing i realized that these were not mortal men but the forces of a dark and terrible god." an ominous gasp went fell upon the tavern.
"the foes i had felled came back up, to not haunt me, but my brothers, the legions of the Raven god was there and they're numbers we like in the tales of old. our blades where upon them and we stuck true, THEN I saw before myself the mighty bird sorcerer whose foul magics damned my brothers to their doom.
My Chief was locked in combat with this creature, this creature that was no less than twenty feet tall, each one parrying the others deadly swings, each stroke delivered with masterful skill. 3 days we fought for, no less!On the final day i saw that i was completely surrounded, suffering from wounds that would have killed a lesser man.
Not 10 feet away, was my chief, still locked in combat with his foe. One of this beast's head had long been removed, but the second head still fought with the strength that only such a beast possesses. Finally with a final lunge, my master impaled this beast upon his blade. BUT IN ONE FINAL ACT! IT BREATHED THE FIRE OF HELL ITSELF! UPON THE GREAT WARRIOR.
Then, with a terrible roar did the beast die, taking my lord with him. Rage came over me and i slew each and every foe that dared meet to test my mettle. each one, a single strike. Then I looked around in triumph. As the enemies were driven before me, anger filled me, for my victory was mine alone.
My brothers... lost, my clan... in ruin, and my lord... now in the halls of my ancestors, their legacy was gone forever, and i wept... it was not that they died that i wept, it was that i knew not their names to sing of their tale. Even now the story i sing is one that will haunt me forever, because upon my return to my village, i saw a horrible sight to behold. The village was ravaged by the treacherous forces of the Raven god. Children that would hold their father's name and wives who would tell them of their father's deeds were all slain." Tears came to Hünter face, and he sat back down and returned to his drink
The Tavern patrons raised their glasses to Hünter before returning to their usual rabble.
"I thank you Hünter." said in the Barbariantongue, and with that the Bard left the tavern, his horse, and dissappeared into the night.
