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A Tale of Luc (Part. 3) by William Quinn
SUMMARY: The 3rd portion of an ongoing project. Comments of any sort are welcome.
"It took the two of you long enough, how much time do we have before the villagers arrive with torches and pitchforks?" Chame was obviously irritated at being jostled out of bed so early in the morning. Especially by a smarmy pixie who didn't bother to knock, or use doors for that matter.
The sun had just poked its head over the horizon, the cloudless sky a bruised purple color. Chame sat in the driver's seat of a carriage, under a small copse of trees just outside the gates of the unnamed town they had been staying in. Covered in a nondescript brown traveler's cloak, he would have blended into the scenery. Except that the carriage was rather lavish.
Among present company their transport seemed rather out of place. It was an un-faded green color, with silver trim around the windows. A coat of arms consisting of a large clover with two crossed swords adorned the doors on either side.
"Ah Chame, there has been a slight change of plans..." Luc had spent more time half-asleep in the saddle than thinking up a way to placate Chame on the way back to town.
"This oughta be rich. Do tell." Chame was frowning as hard as he could. It was a decent frown for someone still yawning.
"Well, we were being chased by several armed men on horseback, all bent on causing me as much bodily harm as possible. In fact, one of them actually hit me with a shot from a crossbow! It may not have ended well, but Nahz took care of them."
"...you forgot the dogs Luc, tell him about the dogs..." Nahz murmured sleepily.
"Ah yes, they had hounds too. Hounds from Hell, with plenty of my scent to work from."
"Stop, I don't need the gestures to accompany that." Chame shook his head in disgust, his shaggy mop of blonde hair waggling slightly out of sync. "You couldn't send the pixie ahead to let me know that your trouble was taken care of?"
"I would have, but the poor lil bugger was so worn out, I just didn't have the heart." Luc at least had the decency to look sheepish.
Chame's face softened a bit while looking at Nahz. "I'll let you off the hook for this, but I believe I deserve a little bit of compensation."
Luc raised an eyebrow.
"I think I'll be the Noble in the next city we visit..." a smile was growing slowly on Chame's face.
"That's fine; your rotation was coming soon anyway."
"We're going to be in Alomar next..." the grin was almost ear to ear now, "And you shall be my minstrel. Your job will be to sing of my heroic deeds. You'll wear tights, carry a lute, and prance about."
"You have got to be shitting me..." Luc looked less than happy about this turn of events. Nahz let go of an amused gurgle.
"This shit itches something fierce." Luc grumbled while picking at his tights. He'd had to put the outfit on about an hour ago; a particularly tall hill had revealed sight of the Capital city of Alomar in the distance. Luc may be a scoundrel, but he was generally honorable about deals he made.
The bright purple tights were bad enough, but the green tunic belted with yellow was garish enough to hurt the eyes. To top off the horrific outfit, were little bells sewn into the tips of his curve toed shoes.
"Consider yourself lucky we couldn't produce a lute," Chame said.