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< Go Read Part 3
< GO Read Part 4
Part 5
At first, her speech was little more than a cough, a sputter clearing the dust from her lungs. Her eyes were wide, terrified, as she returned entirely to flesh. She looked down at her hand with the newly refreshed flexibility of flesh.
The fire behind her smouldered, still delineating a new pathway through the forest. A moment of contemplation, and then, immediately, she was upon Damon.
"You bastard!" She pummelled a balled fist into his neck, doing little damage with her frail form. No sooner than he had stood, did he find himself back on the floor, this time, instead of being assaulted by a fish, being beset upon by the rage of a woman, who was up until a few moments ago a statue in the woods.
Who was she?
"Friend of yours?" Anita asked Damon, though she doubted she could hear him over the woman's gibberish, frenzied abuse as she expressed dissatisfaction toward the so called cleric. Gerald was entertained.
"Please stop." I asked. Nothing changed. The fracas continued "Stop!" I raised my voice. Nothing changed. Gerald intervened, pulling Damon to his feet. Anita handed me her torch, and held back the woman. In the dim torch light, and the few feet of separation between the two, the truce between the two was hardly comfortable.
The woman continued condemning Damon - and he looked like he deserved it, now covered in dirt and a few twigs. I saw an opening. "Damon, those leaves entangled in your hair and beard really do bring out your eyes in the torchlight. Care to explain how this woman knows you?"
I didn't wait for a reply, I simply swung the torch into the direction of the woman and raised an eyebrow. "What did he do to you?"
"He owes me my coin, for services rendered!"
"That coin is gone," Gerald informed her. "He gambled it away." The woman was unsurprised. She began to abuse Damon again. "Listen," I told her. "We do not have time for this. You can settle your accounts from the rewards we'll get for finding the Blacksmith's Daughter."
Damon complained bitterly. "Robbed of my coin before I earned it."
"You will pay your debts." I hissed. I was angry about the smouldering fire, and him seeming to be the cause of all of our delays. I wished now, for the Fish, to slap some further sense into him, or to lay his unconscious body in situ, coming back for it later. But that wouldn't do. Not with his stupid, masculine bravado.
"Statue woman, tell us your name!" Gerald asked cheerily in the torch light gloom, as Anita released the nameless woman from her grasp. "Marcia". I looked at the woman. With no possessions but what appeared to be a Toga, imprinted with musical notation, it seemed she was one of those types who thought that combat was made easier with the provision of inspiring song. Damon would fall for such a thing.
Her dark hair and eyes framed her face in the flame of the torch. "Will you help us find the Blacksmith's daughter, or will we meet you back at the town?"
"I'm coming with you. I don't want to let that lout, Damon out of my sight. I'll wring his-"
"Calm. We have tasks to complete."
The first of which was to follow the smouldering path onward as it seemed to be the only path we were able to take. At least it lit 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. Wants to get on with the job.
The Drunken Cleric:
Damon, alcoholic, violent, full of vitriol. Concussed and dazed. Owes Coin..
The Fighter:
Gerald, loves fish, gambling, and pumping iron. Fish 2, Damon 0
The Hooded Figure:
Anita, sly, calculating, mysterious. Quick.
The Statuesque Bardess:
Marcia, #1 member of the Damon hate fan club, is owed money
Great as usual!
Your really leaned into Damon’s chaos with Marcia stepping out in a toga scrawled with music, then immediately clocking him for the unpaid tab. The way the coin twist landed right as the fire cut a path made the ADventure feel messy in the best way. I loved taht the leaves in his beard become proof of his blundering, like nature itself is roasting him. Tight pacing, sharp barbs, and now the party feels volatile but fun.
It is nearly over, I swear :P This was meant to be a single post story, but it just got sooooo long
Let it sprawl, the party keeps growing adn Damon keeps pouring gas on the fire. Marcia showing up made me grin, she might actually keep him on track for once, but teh chaos is half the fun. Stories that breathe like this hit better, so dont worry if it stretches a bit. Think it wraps next part, or will the Blacksmith's Daughter have other plans?
I think there's a few more parts. They're getting harder to write :P
I'm here for the humour. Did you ever read Terry Pratchett?
I owned many books authored by this man, but never read them. They were among some of my first purchases from Amazon when I had my first job. I know I should. His daughter followed in his footsteps, she was a writer for many prominent video game stories. It runs in the family.