Part Two
A man who appeared to be another heaping lump of muscle was having what could only be described as an anxiety attack. He was shaking, weeping, and still dressed in the finery of his vocation. You ever seen a blacksmith tremble with tears streaming down their cheeks, engulfed by a sea of anguish?
I have.
And now, that is why the loud, annoying Cleric, Damon is trying to broker a deal with any adventurer who will split the spoils. The Fighter, Gerald is in, so I am too. Gerald still has the fish, after all. A few others join our increasing ranks.
But I suppose I should tell you why this blacksmith was crying so much.
His daughter, abducted by the most stereotypical beast you could fathom - goblins. Blatant, boisterous goblins, taking her right from the back room of his smithery. Proof that you can have all the weapons in the world, a father's love, and still, apparently, lose the person you hold most dearest in an instant. To an act committed by creatures of minimal cognition.
Goblins aren't very clever, and their choice of a kidnap victim clearly showed that. If you're going to ransom a person, perhaps don't ransom the daughter of a man who makes weapons. He might enter the local tavern and recruit a party of Adventurers to eviscerate you with his freely available arsenal of goods and coin.
A woman who introduces herself as "Anita," responds to the rambling Damon. He was like an auctioneer offering spots on a crusade as opposed to property for sale, foaming at the mouth, brain bickering with its tongue. He waved his finger across the bewildered crowd of drinkers "RIGHT, WE HAVE FOUR. WE WILL RESCUE THE LASS."
"He's drunk, slightly concussed, probably can't count very well, but boy he is enthusiastic." I'm addressing Gerald, trying to writhe my way through his guard, in a bid to look at that damned sea creature that seems to me to be much more than a simple paddle to whack people across the jowls with. "I just want to hit him again with the fish!" proclaims Gerald, wearing a big smile, with a happy-go-lucky glint for violence in his eye.
He'd be an attractive man, if he didn't have bits of animal tissue stuck between his teeth, and a leg of lamb in his hand, with just a small amount of meat left on it. The smell of it made me wish to abandon my olfactory senses, especially more so, when he took a final bite from the leg and chewed, smiling with his mouth open. "Wach Thith", he spoke between bites, spittle flying from his mouth.
He threw the bone in the direction of Damon, who was negotiating something with the woman, Antia. Her eyes flashed up from under her cloak. She skillfully dodged the incoming part of what was once a lamb's skeleton, and it hit Damon directly on his upper lip. Rage flared at his nostrils, but before he could scream, Gerald was before him in a flash, brandishing the fish paddle, "We best be off then, lad, lest ye want another kiss with me fishy friend!"
Damon attempted to retaliate with some words, but was, much like most of the tavern, silenced by the unmistakable thud of fish analogue across the chin. Gentler this time, but softer. The only sounds were Damon's laboured breathing as he found himself in yet another daze, and the cries of the blacksmith, who was still despairing.
Anita broke the uncomfortable din. "We've got a daughter to find." And like that, a pathway opened for us, as Gerald heaved the still dazed Damon onto his shoulder, and through the door, careful to make a point of ensuring his head would collide with the door frame on the way out.
I stifled a laugh. I would follow the Fish, and see if the daughter showed up. And, perhaps, with the death of the goblins, some wildlife could be saved along the way.
THE DRUID'S DILEMMA WILL CONTINUE
D R A M A T I S
P E R S O N A E
(so far)
The Druid:
A quiet protagonist-narrator, nameless, female. Lover of wild life. Interested in aquatic welfare.
The Drunken Cleric:
Damon, alcoholic, violent, full of vitriol. Concussed and dazed.
The Fighter:
Gerald, loves fish, gambling, and pumping iron. Fish 2, Damon 0
The Hooded Figure:
Anita, sly, calculating, mysterious. Quick.