Tales of Barad'Dun: Day of the Dragons.

I have no plot in mind, so everything written will definately take a life of its own.

We will start with one sentence from Barrak room gossip that seemed intriguing. I will post that first. From then on the Rules are, write only a paragraph, long or short, broken up with dialog where appropriate. (personally, I like an open style so I can breath through the words) We want to keep the posts short enough for people who can only read a little at the time (especially when reading from a cell phone) won't get lost or quit reading.

Remember too, the tale shall be set within the environ's of barad'Dun, its history or its events or its people. You may write about characters who are living, breathing members of our Realm, or create your own characters for the tale. Any characters you create, only you can harm or kill out of the story.

Writers do not need to live in Barad'Dun nor even belong to Barad'Dun to post, however, we do want you to know our history and our people in order to write about us.

The sentence that shall hopefully bloom into an interesting tale is...

Quote :

I have heard tell that our own Nightmare has considered joining the cult of Dragons!

And now, who shall be our first poster.....

The sea dog stirred when the door opened. He hadn't been asleep, however; after waiting in the hallway for almost an hour to speak to someone, one may tend to drift. Konradr watched and listened carefully. Whoever Kilanos had been meeting with for the last hour had been very, very quiet. He managed to gather a few incomprehensible whispers, but nothing more. Suddenly, out from the door slinked Nightmare, looking oddly solemn, even for him.

"Nightmare!" Said Konradr, "A fine day in Barad'Dun today, is it not?"

Nightmare only nodded and hurried off. Konradr stared after him for a few moments before dismissing his odd behavior as simply a "young person thing." He had other things to worry about. He walked into the chamber where Kilanos was sitting at a large desk.

"Hello, friend," said the former Shepard to the current, "I have some business to speak with you."

Simon Harkgrove was a young adventurish lad with a Rogue's keen edge. He wore a black cloak and hood most of the time, covering his long, ponytail tied red hair and freckled face. Only the point of his red goatee usually protruded, and the hilt of his falchion with its ruby studded pommel.

Simon waited beyond the gates of the Royal Army compound. He was not allowed in; however, as a mercenary of the Realm, he was permitted to carry his weapon on his person.

Nightmare soon came through the Gates.

"There you are." Simon said, pulling the hood away, revealing his bright blue eyes and boyish smile. "What took you so long?"

"Business." Nightmare said gruffly and hurried on along the street. Simon had to jog to catch up. The street was busy at this hour of the day. Lots of people coming and going towards the nearby market square or the harbour. Royal Militia stood about keeping watch in small, armed groups.

The thin figure of a lady draped in a silken purple cloak suddenly stood out before them. She had long, coal black hair twisted in intricate knots and studded with jewels. Her eyes were almond shaped and sparkled like black diamonds. Her face was of the mystic east, delicate and alluring. She smiled and motioned to Nigtmare.

Nightmare pushed on past her, and continued on his way. He was a good lad, with a true heart. Simon; however, was not.

"Well then, if you won't go with this lovely lady, I shall." And with that, Simon smiled at the lady and followed her off in another direction. "Catch you at the Dragon's Brew later." He shouted as they dissappeared amidst the crowd.

whisper was walking though the busy crowded market square, being as short as she was she couldn't see to much.

"blast if only i was taller.."

From behind came two big hands, they lifted her up onto the shoulders of taco.

"taco can help you be tall... me and Akeria are here for food"

Taco smiled and akeria waved from down on the ground, whisper patted taco on the head, and looked around.
The market square was colorful, the clothes for the people and the goods at the stalls just seemed to mix together.

A loud yawn broke the various conversations as a stout figure entered the market. His usual scruffy hair was all over the place, as was the addition of a full beard. Dark bags seemed to hang from his tired eyes as he scanned the scene; It had been too long since the dwarf had set foot in the town square.

Looking over, he chuckled slightly as he saw Whisper, appearing to be at least 15 feet tall. Underneath her was the brutish face of the mercenary troll, Taco. Moving at a slow pace, favoring his right leg, he made his way through the crowd. Instead of his usual hammer, he carried a gnarled staff, etched with runes which seemed to glow dimly in the sunlight.

''Whisper! Taco!'' he said, waving excitingly.

Suddenly there was a commotion in the market crowd. An old woman yelped, while a group of men Laughed heartily.

Taco, with Whisper still riding his shoulders, Akeria and the Dwarf, James Stoneheart were chatting when a woman suddenly burst from one crowd, ran past them in a blur of speed. She had a thin, and supple body that gleamed with sweat as she ran, and she was completely naked except for a pair of silver, pearl studded sandals. Her long, black hair knotted in the fashion of easterners, fluttered behind her like a flag. In one hand sparkled a long, thin silver dagger which she pointed at anyone in her way while cursing in a sing song type language. Four Royal Militia men were giving chase, but they were slow and the woman soon dissappeared into another throng of market goers.

"Was that a silver dagger in her hand?" Stoneheart asked, scratching his beard.

"Yes." Taco said. "About a 12 inch blade, very sharply honed. Pearls in the pommel, very nice."

"Those were pretty shoes." Akeria said.

Whisper looked at each one and shook her head. "Didn't any of you notice, she was naked?"

A feint, cheesy smile slowly showed on the Dwarves face. "Maybe." He said.

Taco's head began to steam. "She was naked?"

"Yes!" Whisper continued "And she had a Dragon tattoo on her back!"

Suddenly all of their faces turned grim and they spoke in unison.

"Dragon Cult."

As he walked the busy streets, listened to busy conversations, and made due with the wallet's of ignorant busy people, Strider sighed as the boring Barad'Dun afternoon rolled on. The scoundrel made his way through the market, eying market stands for any thing of interest; but a rather tall figure caught his eye. He made out the face of whisper flopped over the head of troll Taco, dangling her arms around his face like a new hairstyle. As he bore on through the crowd he lifted a tree trunk arm to wave at someone deep within the muddle of citizens. He circled around as if to intercept the troll; knocking over a display sign for a fruit stand he apologized and reset the arrangement and continued on. Leaning against a near wall, peeling a newly acquired orange, he waited to see what kind of meeting the troll and company were attending. Out of nowhere he watched as a very nude, very beautiful, dark haired woman burst from the crowd armed with a lone silver dagger. She cursed and ran towards the far end of the market, Royal Militia men were heaving heavily as they tried to keep pace but soon lost their target. A freshly peeled orange hit the stone walk as Strider disappeared into the backstreets of Barad'Dun.

"Finally, some action!"

Simon was in a dead end alley off the market square, sitting on a pile of fresh, golden hay that was used for feeding and lining the stalls of market animals. He winced as he applied the silken purple robes around his slashed forearm. Blood oozed out from the temporary bandage.

"Wow, now that was a surprise." He smiled in his usual boyish, carefree way. "First that tattoo, and then the dagger. Man, she was quick."

He winced again, the smile leaving his face. "Good thing I was quicker. All and all, I've had worst first dates. Hmmm, yes, I'll have to meet up with her again and finish what we started."

"No need my dear sir." Came a low, almost growling voice from the entrance of the alley. Simon looked up to see three, square hulking forms in dark, hooded cloaks. One by one they disrobed. Two bare chested men and one Orc stood before him. All three were thickly muscled, with squared heads and barreled chests. One was Eastern in appearance, with black hair and a golden ring through both ears and his nose. The center man was perhaps a Korgan, a brute with a shaven head, only one lock of tawney hair dangling at the back in a 'Boar's tale'. The Orc was, perhaps, Uruk-hai. They carried heavy headed mace's which could crush a man's head easily.

"We shall finish what she started." The Korgan said.

Simon winced again as his good hand dropped the silken robe and slid over to the hilt of his Falchion.

The three brutes laughed as they threw their cloaks to the ground. The two men had Dragon tatoo's on their upper chests. The Orc had his below his belly button, with the tail dissappearing beneath his dirty, linen braies.

"Now that's just disgusting." Simon said with a smirk. "No wonder we only see the females of your clan. The men are just plain FUGLY!" and he leaped to his feet, Falchion swung out and ready.

"I don't understand what he does all day. He leaves immediately after training, I hardly see him during meals, and when I do see him, he always cuts me short, saying 'oh I forgot something.' and leaves me behind. I don't know what to do Natooka....'' Demie said to the runt, walking through one of the small side streets. A couple of children were playing with a ball as they looked at them. They froze, looking upward at Natooka, who was beyond tall for a goblin. His crooked ears were slanted upward, with silver hoops. A pair of big tusks extruded from his mouth, completed with blood red eyes.

''I don't get it either. Nightmare hasn't shown up for my archery lessons. He said he wanted to learn how goblins shoot arrows so I told him I would, however.....he hasn't talked to me. Come to think of it....'' he looked down at the children as they walked by. He gave a wide grin, which sadly made him look even scarier then friendly as they scurried away in fear.

"Yes?'' said a distraught Demie.

''He hasn't talked to anyone....aside from you.''

''I just wish he would just.....be a naked lady running towards us?''

''What, he can do that? Humans are so confusing......'' before he could ask how Nightmare learned to transform, someone had literally rammed into the frail creature. Both were knocked to the ground, the exotic woman literally on top of the mixed goblin. Demie was just about to help her up when she saw the tattoo on the woman's back.....

The Eastern looking clansman charged first with a hard yawl sound. He swung his mace fast. Simon had only seconds to lean back so that its steel studded face just missed him. The Easterner did not overswing, he backswung as quickly as his first strike but Simon moved his Falchion blade up to catch the haft on the edge. A snap of his right boot then kicked the mace down, and with a flick of the wrist, he moulineted his blade into the meat of the Easterner's left thigh. Blood gushed out and the man shrieked, stepping back quickly, almost toppling over when trying to plant his left leg.

The other two rushed forward at the same time, Mace's held high ready to drop two consecutive blows onto the lad, but the ground began to tremble and they faltered.

MOOOOO, MOOOO, MOOOOOOOO came the loud echoing sounds into the alley as a small herd of dusty cows were driven in. Six giant beasts, thundered into the narrow passage and fought to reach the hay. From somewhere behind them was the harsh call of a herdsman in some nomadic language of the wild lands.

Simon quickly dropped to his hands and knees and began crawling as fast as a cockroach between the jumbling hooves and udders of the cows. He prayed they wouldn't shift suddenly and step on him. The Dragon clansmen had been squished off to the sides and in the noise and cloud of dust did not see Simon escape.

Out in the crowd of the market square, he threw his cloak and hood on and mingled in. He kept close, watching the alley.

The three brutes came out of the alley, also wearing their cloaks again. One limped off through the crowd. The other two looked around and then scattered in a search.

Simon smiled. He followed the flow of people along several vendors of fruits and vegetables. He looked at the purple silk robe.

"I will still find you M'lady, that is for sure." he said as he tightend the soft cloth around his wounded forearm.

Suddenly a sight made him freeze cold. There amidst a milling group of men and women near the market well, was the cloaked Easterner. He was still limping. He spoke to a young man with thickly muscled arms, wearing a suede leather vest and black fighting pants. The Eastern left and when the man turned about, he saw that it was none other than.....

Strider... In a far burrow in Barad'Dun, hopping across roof and ledge in pursuit of his femme fatale target. On her rampage through the back alleys of the city she had managed to find a rag to cover most of the revealing parts of her body, but still left almost none to the imagination. Her pace seemed more at ease now that the immediate danger had subsided and she turned down a dead end and decided to sit down and rest. Strider, still clambering silently above, made his way down to within a fews yards of the woman and waited. As she sat on a wooden crate she pulled down the rag to reveal the top half of her back. Down along it was a large black dragon tattoo, very intricate, almost as though a frozen dragon were living in her flesh. As soon as the thought popped into his head the woman's tattoo came alive. It slithered up her back to her ear, as if whispering a secret to her, she nodded and spoke a few unintelligible words. The dragon took it's lifeless form as her tattoo once more. Strider leaped down in front of her, only feet away. She rose to her feet, once again nude and dagger at the ready, her eyes blazing for combat. He stood there with his hand on his sheathed blade.

"That is quite the tattoo you have there sweetheart."

Looking over the market from the Keep of Iron, Lord Varno Anga watched the city bustling and the day grow old. Between his Scribe duties and his Royal Army service he is kept busy. He finally had a chance to enjoy the day, by going over the cities economy, per his newly assigned duties as Chief Treasurer. Counting was a pleasing task and from his high chamber he watched the city grow.

So as the day went on and my tasks were about to be completed he looked down and saw a strange sight. A beautiful young lady running through the market place, completely naked. From this height he was not able to see the details but above the bustle of the market, the dim clanging of fighting came to even this high perch.

The Lord yelled from his chamber, " Vassal Sludaff!! Signal the city guard and bring forward my armorers." Varno felt the need to investigate and might have to report on who dares fight with steel in the city. Walking into the chamber were 3 armor vassals. They began the process of arming the Lord of Iron. From head to foot, he was being outfitted in the Armor of Ages. A suit that has been passed down generation to generation and fit to each Lord of the House by a master smith from the Dwarven holds. Two minutes later he was prepared to make way and proceeded out of the Keep. As he left a man came out of the alley near the keep and moments later 3 cloaked figures as well, one of whom looked injured. They seemed to be looking for someone.

Varno looked out on the crowd and had located the city guard running from the market place. He yelled to them but the sounds of bartering overpowered it. Summoning his calm he yelled to them with his training as the Voice. A few looked back and started back to him, but as they approached the cloaked figures had gone and the first man to exit the alley had disappeared.

Talking to the guards he makes sure they note the 3 cloaked figures and there appearance. Varno looked back into the market and finally saw the man he saw run into the crowd. The man seemed frozen in place and Varno started to make his way to him when.....

Nightmare seemed in a determined hurry as he pushed his way through the throng of market goers. A hand, stained a bright crimson in spots, reached out and grabbed him by one of his arms.

"Whoa, Nightmare, old friend." Simon said, but without his usual smile. "Where are you off to now, in such a hurry?"

"Not now Simon, I have things to attend to." Nightmare said. It was then that he noticed that the hand that held him was streaked with blood. "Are you injured?"

"A scratch, nothing more. A damsel's dagger spoke more clearly than her tounge." Now Simon's smile twinkled a bit. "Something me and the lady shall finish at a later date, for we were interupted by three, rather brutish fellows."

"You were in a fight?"

"Somewhat. I had to give them a raincheck."

Nightmare shrugged Simon's hand away and began to walk on.

"Good, go see the surgeon and get your arm looked at my friend." He said as he went.

"I did manage to injure one." Simon said cooly. "In the leg. An Easterner of sorts."

Nightmare slowed and seemed to grimace as he looked back slightly.

"Seems you might know him, dear friend." Simon spoke the last two words rather coldly.

"You will have to mind your own business Simon." Nightmare said gruffly. "And I would urge you to go to the Surgeon, now, before..." He hesitated.

"Before what?"

"It may not be too safe in the Market today."

There was suddenly a commotion nearby, and Simon turned like a cat. A group of ten purple cloaked figures, big as the other Brutes he had met in the alley, were heading to the center of the Market. In that direction, he could see the head and shoulders of a familiar Troll, and atop those shoulders was a little assassin girl known only as Whisper.

"Seems we have an unusually large number of cloaked goons heading towards are old friend Taco." Simon said. "He might actually need some help there. Cloaks are good to hide things, like weapons, and Dragon tattoo's, eh, nightmare?"

Simon turned, but Nightmare was no longer there. He had vanished into the crowd.

"Blast that fool." Simon said through gritted teeth. "What has he gotten himself into."

He looked in the direction that Nightmare had gone, then in the direction the cloaked figures were heading.

"Damn, help Taco, or follow Nightmare?" He pulled a Gold Denari from his belt pouch. It held the smiling face of Adunakhor Surt on one side, and the Star and Tower of Barad'Dun on the other. He flipped it, letting fate decide for him.

Natooka and Demie stared at eachother for a moment.

"Well," Demie said, "That was odd."

"Very," said Natooka, having to raise his voice over some sort of yelling coming from the marketplace. He considered for a moment whether or not they should head over and check it out, but being quite the pacifist, he decided against confrontation. Demie, on the other hand, wanted terribly to see the commotion.

"I'll be back, Natooka...." she said as she began to walk off, but before she could take five paces, something, or rather, someone ran into her. Before she could regain her composure, however, he was gone. Suddenly, a gnome with bright striped pants strolled by casually. Then, Demie realized what had just happened. She checked her person for her coin pouch.

"DAMMIT RILITH!" she cursed, starting to chase after the theif, "Get back here with my pouch!"

And with that, she zoomed off after the tall, lanky rogue toward the marketplace.

Seeing Nightmare come up to the man in the market, Varno speed up his attempts to get to this person. He watched Nightmare talk to the man and then run off. The man seemed to flip a coin, mutter something and head off in the direction Nightmare headed.

Following him closely Varno ran after Nightmare hoping this man going after him as well was friendly. With his vassal keep close they tried to get this man's attention, though he seems very focused on the task at hand.

Varno yells to this man and.....

Nightmare ducks around a corner leading to an alley.

As Simon, followed by Lord Anga and a few of his Militiamen, near the spot, five large, cloaked figures step out and form a living wall barring the way.

Simon halts, and smiles, his hand instinctively feeling for the hilt of his trusted falchion.

"A, dark purple robed figures. Somehow, not a surprise on this day."

Anga reaches Simon's side and stops, he is breathing heavily and sweating profusely in his hide of steel armor. He notices the black sash with a red star upon it, hanging from the man's belt, and he knows he can trust this young man who is obviously a Realm Mercenary. Two of the Militiamen rush as well, and grip their spears tightly.

"Ah," Simon said, glancing to the three men on his left. "Now it is four to five, good odds."

"Welcome to the Market Lord Anga, Scibe to the King, Treasurer to the Realm, may today's visit be bountiful..." One of the cloaked ruffians said. "And your last." The other four begin to laugh. spiked clubs emerge first as they throw their cloaks off.

Kilanos stood for a long time staring out one of the windows bringing sunlight and the sweet smell of the sea into his chambers.

"The Horn of Diraq." He muttered.

"Say again ol' boy?" Konradr said, sitting in a plush chair opposite the man's desk, drinking from a fine pewter goblet. "Horn of what?"

Kilanos spun about and strode back. He sat on the corner of his desk, a desk cluttered with papers, books, pen's and all other ailments of the office he held.

"Horn of Diraq." He said again grimly. "I had a spy amongst the Dragon Cult. He told me the leader..."

"Who we only know as the Dragon Khan." Konradr interrupted.

"Yes, that's him. They have aquired the Horn of Diraq. Diraq is an ancient, terrible Dragon that is rumored to sleep deep in our Western Mountains." Kilanos, edgey with worry, began to pace again.

"It is said only the Horn of Diraq can awaken the monster and summon him. It can only be played when the moon is full and the night is the longest of Nibelmond."

Konradr slammed his goblet down. "That is only a week away. Do you mean...?"

"Yes. The spy said the Cult will try to smuggle the horn into the city TODAY!"

Kilanos stared out through another window facing the harbor. "My spy was found hanged from a Yawe tree that lined King's Way below the tower."

"So we don't know how they will be bringing it into the city." The old white haired one stood to, ready for action.

"I have sent another young man to infilterate the cult. I hope he has more success." Kilanos said. His heart was heavy with the decision he had to make, but the city depended on that young man, even if it might cost him his life.

Konradr now remembered young Nightmare had been in this very office before him.

"What do you need me and my Wolves to do Shepard?"

"Patrol the harbor, check every ship arriving today, and be ready."

Just then, from another window, came the sounds of fighting.

"That's coming from the Market." Konradr said.

Kilanos nodded. "And so it begins."

Hearing that idle threat, Varno looks to the man he was following and his Vassals and says, "Why are they always cocky... oh well." As he pulls out his trusty saber and pulling shield to the front, he watches as his men do the same. He looks the brutes square and whilst pointing his saber at them he says, "Now you will learn why I'm the Lord of Iron."

Taking lead Varno steps forward adopting a defensive stance. His men follow similar stances and lock shields with his. With his line blocking the whole alley they move forward at a slow step. The brutes fully draw there clubs and charge in with reckless abandon. The sounds of the crash is that of a large missile hitting a wall. The brutes drive the line back a few paces. The wall shoves forward and striking in unison they advance onto the brutes. Varno takes lead and moves out from the wall a few steps. Moving methodically into the enemy forces he starts attacking back in brutal sweeps of his saber. Using his weight and armor to his advantage he moves in and with his line move the enemy back.

Quickly in the combat 1 of the brutes is cut down. With an overhand slam a vassal is laid out. Mounting his anger, he breaks completely from the line and slams a brute into the wall and stabbing into its heart. The men behind Varno attack in similar manners and within seconds another is dead and the last brute is injured running away from the fight.

Looking back at the man he was following, Varno says, "I have a few questions before we continue onward after my brother-in-arms." Simon looks at this man and ......

She made the first strike.

"YAAAH!", she lunged and just as rapidly Strider drew his blade and parried the blow.

She leaped back and hissed, breathing quickly from the adrenaline rushing through her system. Strider stood still, his blade gleaming black from certain angles. He had no intention of fighting, but he was smart enough not to drop his guard.

"You know, I'd rather just talk to you."

She lunged again, he easily sidestepped and lead her past him, giving her a good slap on her behind. She spun around with a confused look on her face, her cheeks rosy-red. Strider gave a little laugh and sheathed his blade.

"What.. Why have you done this?" The woman hissed again, her mind still bewildered by the strange tactic. Her stance seemed more awkward at this point, unsure of whether she should attack once more. Strider still smiling, removed his brown overcoat and threw it in front of the still nude woman.

"As much as I love the show, you could probably use some clothing."

She looked down at the coat, and then at her own body, realizing that she was a bit under dressed. She seemed cautious to pick it up, eying him closely. With dagger held at the ready she sprung to the ground and picked up the coat; she proceeded to put in arm and arm, never once daring to so much as blink for fear that a trap would be sprung.

"You might want to button that a bit. I can still see your.. ehem...", looking down she turned bright red and quickly buttoned the jacket. Once more at the ready she turned her attention to the strange man before her.

"Why have you not attacked me, you have had your chance."

"Because I have no reason to... Yet. For now I would just like to talk." Strider replied.

"And what is it you would wish to know Dúnadan?" The woman seemed to ease her guard.

Strider grinned, "First, how about your name sweetheart?"

Her name was Jadeea, she told him as they strolled along one of the narrow streets leading away from the commotion that had been sounding at the market. She was taken as a child far from some homeland in Middle Earth, some Eastern place that she knew not of. She was not a slave, not anymore, her skills with the dagger had seen to that. Her former master, a Sea baron, had brought his ships into Barad'Dun, and Jadeea had made her escape and lived in the city eversince.

They continued to walk together, she still watching him suspiciously, but her manner had eased.

"I have not seen you until now." Strider said, "I would have remembered such a pretty face."

They had come to a street where kids played on the cobblestone, narrow shops were open along the sides, some selling vegetables, some with goods from ceramics to bronzeware, to leather. One was a thriving restaurant of sorts, selling food and drink. Above each shop, built of a amber stone, were several floors of living spaces, each with a balcony onto the scene below.

"I live in the Hadash, its quite narrow, dark and mysterious there." She said.

"This area was copied from a street in old Roma." Strider said. "They call them Insulae, or something like that. Small dingy homes is what I call them. Are you thirsty?"

She thought a moment, looked about the street, and to the apartments above the shops. It seemed safe. She stared at the young man before her, his bright blonde hair held tight in a ponytail, his blue eyes glowing in the sunlight.

"Sure." and for the first time, she smiled.

"Good, after you m'lady." He said, gesturing to a narrow stairwell beside one of the shops, a leather shop. The old lady sitting next to the window, handstitching some leather piece smiled as the two passed by.

"That Strider." She mused to herself, "Always with the pretty ladies, Mind, if I were younger..." She sighed and continued her work.

The small wooden door opened with a slow creeking. Jadeea entered warily, sliding against the wall, keeping an eye on Strider, and trying to adjust to the darkness.

Something chattered beside her, and her dagger came out, giving off a slight silvery glow.

"Nothing to fear." Strider insisted with a slight laugh. He pulled a curtain aside and warm sunlight filled the room. "It is only Ming." He said pointed to her left.

Ming was a yellow gold spider monkey, sitting in a dwarf tree that grew from a huge, earth filled ceramic pot in the corner of the tiny room. It had several branches, and on one was fashioned a grass hut.

"Give us some mood music Ming." Strider said. He produced a dried fig from his pocket and threw it to the monkey. Ming gobbled it down and squealed as he jumped into his grass hut and then came out with a small rosewood, skin topped drum. The Monkey squated comfortably on his perch and then began to play. The music was smooth and, for such a small drum, filled the room.

"Ming's my little buddy." Strider said as he swayed side to side in a slight dance.

"He's very good." Jadeea said, once again smiling. She now could see the rest of the room. It was small, only one room at that. Along one wall was a small wooden armoire. Most of the room, however, was taken up by a large, oval, sheepskin covered, bed. She blinked in surprise, she'd never seen such a bed, and the only other furnishings in the room was a small table with a few wood mugs and a ceramic carafe.

"Where do you sit?" She asked, almost laughing.

"On the bed." he smiled, its very cozy.

"Where do you eat?" She continued.

"Usually down at the shop at the street corner, or well, on the bed." He sat on the edge of the large, well stuffed mattress. "This is a mattress, something copied from the East, or so I was told." He patted an edge next to him, motioning for her to sit if she wished.

"Where do you...um.?"

"Oh, outside, behind the shop, there's a public latrine. Very old Roma. Cold sometimes, but it works, there's a fountain for washing to. Do you need to..."

"No." She laughed.

Strider slid over to the small table and poured a light amber liquid from the carafe into one of the goblets. He held it out to her, but she hesitated. Strider smiled, drank a little and then handed her the cup. She drank as well, but her eyes never left him, and his never left hers.

"I don't suppose, I could see that tattoo again, eh, m'lady?" Strider asked as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Does it intrigue you?" She asked.

"Something like that."

Jadeea turned around slowly, Ming changing the tune of his drumbeat to something slower and more Eastern in sound.

She watched his reaction out of the corner of her almond eyes. She slowly unbuttoned the coat he had given her, and slid it down to the ground letting it hang a moment on her slender hips. She stood naked again, her back to him, a tattoo of a Dragon glowing on her back. The tattoo's head was near her neck, and the tail ran down ending at the small of her back.



Strider, eyes full, studied not only the tattoo, but the woman, from her luscious coal black hair, to her tiny waist and slender legs.

"A work of art." He said with a smile.

She turned around slowly, and slid onto his lap. Their eyes took one another in, and then she gently kissed him. His strong hands, slid about her waist with soft tenderness. His muscles were tense, he wanted her. She giggled with each kiss.

Strider's attention was lost in desire. He did not see the head of the Dragon as it arose over her shoulder and bit him on the cheek.

Jadeea jumped up in surprise. Strider tried to stand and speak. He trembled for a moment, then spun about, knocking the carafe to the ground as he staggered. Suddenly he fell, face first onto his great mattress.

The Dragon hissed with anger into Jadeea's ear. She, in her native Eastern tounge, hissed back at it. She too was angry. They seemed to argue. The Dragon barred its teeth. Jadeea bowed in defeat.

She pulled Strider's shirt off as the Dragon continued to hiss into her ears. Her face was saddened and her almond eyes began to glisten with tears as she pulled her dagger out, and slowly carved something into the bare skin of the young man's shoulder. It was what they called a "Blood dragon" in the Hadash.

She wiped away the tears.

Ming had stopped drumming and was jumping up and down chattering excitedly. The Dragon looked at it, then hissed into Jadeea's ears again. She turned and raised the dagger as if to throw it at the Monkey.

The Dragon hissed, but Jadeea, eyes filled with tears, threw the dagger into the wall instead. Ming raced into his grass hut and chattered in fear.

Jadeea began to argue with the Dragon, only its head seemed to be free to move, the rest of its body was permanantly attached to her back. She picked up Strider's coat and put it back on, smothering the Dragon.

"Now be quiet!" She yelled in the common tounge. "I've done your bidding." She looked at Strider, and then turned to the door, grabbing her dagger from the wall as she left.

"Well done, you have skills besides being a scribe, I see." Simon said with a smile as he began to walk past the dead cult members and the Royal Militiamen standing about them.

Anga, known to all as 'Knubbs', snapped his fingers and the Militiamen gather around the Red haired youth.

"I can not allow you to continue." The scribe said in a hushed voice. "I know you are Realm mercenary, and obviously a friend to Corsair Nightmare, but you can not go after him."

Simon's face quickly turned to anger.

"He's my friend and he may be in danger, by who'se authority am I denied to go after him?" He said.

Knubbs raised a finger to quiet him down.

"by order of the Shepard. Now, I insist you go on about some other business. If you continue on down that alley, I will have you arrested."

The militiamen stood firmly between Simon and the alley entrance.

Just then there were screams and mayhem breaking loose from the center of the market. Simon remembered the ten cloaked goons that had headed towards the Troll.

"We will have to discuss this matter another time Scribe. I think I have more friends in trouble, and with or without your permission, I will attend to them."

With that, Simon withdrew and began to race through the throng of people rushing the other way.

"Damon!" Knubbs called to one of the Militiamen. A lanky older man in a Royal Militia tabard and wearing the familiar brimmed 'Kettle' steel hat, stepped forward.

"Follow him, aide him if neccessary, but be sure he does not go after nightmare."

Damon snapped his legs together in salute and was off on the trail of Simon the Riever.

"I think we'll need more men, seems to be a bit of anarchy foaming in the market today, and we can't have that!" Lord Anga said as he hurried off with his other men in tow.

"Sludaff!!" yelled Knubbs. The House vassal came forth, "remember the signal when we get within sight of the Keep, the House guards need to quiet that market down."

"Jozen," looking at the guardsman, "Quickly send word to the Guard post in the area. I need this to end quickly, explain to the Captain about Nightmare and to keep an eye on him if he sees him, but no more."

I hope Nightmare knows what hes doing, thought the lord. After seeing Jozen sprint away, he turned his attention to the downed Vassal. He had been struck hard but his helm took the blunt of it. Poring some water on his face, the other vassals pick him up and pat him on the back. He had earned his armor this day.

After he was up and walking the group began the task of heading back to the market at a steady trudge. Getting within sight of the tower, Sludaff pulled out a hand mirror and started flashing the upper guardroom of the Keep. And as quickly as the signal was sent the drums of the tower sounded in a deep resonating boom. The house guards moved into the market swiftly putting themselves in the way guarding the Merchants and citizens.

Very soon the city guards came in force and all of a sudden...