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Date Posted: 01:10:09 12/27/01 Thu
Author: Tristan et al.
Subject: What's all this lagging about for?
In reply to: Valhorek, Corum & Erlic 's message, "So far so good" on 19:21:39 12/26/01 Wed

Tristan would have been furious to know that Valhorek had come to check on Marz last night while they slept. The fury, of course, would have only been an effort to cover his embarrassment, since he couldn’t truly be angry at a healer who was just doing his job. Fortunately, he didn’t know about Val, so as he followed Marz outside the cave and down to the breakfast campfire, he was in a surprisingly light mood, the usual frown noticeably absent from his face as his eyes wandered about their surroundings.

The native people got up early, tending the cook fires, skinning the meat, sharpening weapons, and tending to various other domestic tasks. Several children were already up, tossing a leather ball about, while two little boys reluctantly detached themselves from the group and gathered up a herd of goats, which they began to herd away with whistles and sharp sticks. Tristan noticed the camp dogs for the first time, large, burly creatures who loped alongside the goat herds with their bushy tails held high in the air. The whole place held a comforting air of complacent domesticity about it, making him begin to doubt there could possibly be a group of fanatic assassins dwelling close by, hiding in these very mountains perhaps.

As Marz handed him a cup of java, he smiled over at Justin, grateful that the putrefying stench that seemed to hang about the man had mostly vanished this morning. Justin's hair and beard were even neatly combed, and his clothes looked fresh. Tristan reflected that though this didn’t make him any handsomer, it certainly made him more bearable to be around. At least he wouldn’t feel like he had to retch every time the ugly, hairy-faced mercenary waddled past.

Alakbar’s appetite mirrored his own, though most people expected a dragon to eat a lot more than the average person. He watched on with amazement along with everybody else as the supposed prince scarfed down two healthy helpings of Marz’s cooking. He rolled his eyes when Alakbar immediately began to recite his prayers once he finished his meal. What he did next startled Tristan, though, since he wasn’t used to being singled out.

“I think he wants a weapon,” Marz explained, when the prince said something in his weird-sounding native tongue and pointed greedily at Tristan’s sword. At least Tristan perceived it as being a greedy look. But then, he didn’t take kindly to people staring admiringly at his weapon, unless they were admiring how honored they were to be cleaved in half by such a spectacular piece of steel. Tristan agreed wholeheartedly with Justin; that is, until he made as if he actually feared the consequences of giving Alakbar a blade.

As he was scoffing at the mercenary’s apparent cowardice, he and all the others got a bit of a shock when the prince began speaking in Common (or a pretty sorry attempt at Common, anyway). Tristan gripped his sword and glared at the young man, some strange instinctive feeling warning him not to trust Alakbar.

“Well he can’t have mine, either,” he hissed, still clutching the weapon possessively. After a few seconds, his hand dropped back to his side, though, and he shrugged. “But give the idiot a weapon if he wants one. Those who are scared of a princeling mortal with a blade in his hands can just keep behind the rest of us.” He shot Justin a contemptuous look, though he doubted the merc was even clever enough to catch on to the none too subtle jibe.

Tristan was beginning to grow bored as he finally finished up his third helping of breakfast steak. He sipped at the java and watched as Erlic arrived, frowning when the older man did nothing except ask how Tia and Marz were doing. Well, he knew it. Maybe that whole mess about the assassins had all been a big mistake last night. If Erlic wasn’t trying to hustle them through breakfast, then there must not be any real danger, at least for now.

He checked, mostly out of habit, to make sure no one was looking, then he touched Marz on the leg, drawing his attention. “I guess we’re not in a hurry after all,” he said quietly, his hand slowly moving upward on its own accord. “Maybe, if you want, we could go back to the cave and…”

“Shouldn’t we all be leaving soon?”

Tristan didn’t get to finish his sentence, and he pulled his hand back, almost guiltily as he stared up at the person who had just spoken. It was Laurel, and she had just arrived from her own cave, her green eyes sweeping worriedly over them all.

Now, Laurel hadn’t slept very well at all, last night. After she finished having fun with Barry (mercilessly teasing the skull to no end—as if she would hold him all night as if he were an injured little babe!), she had retired to an empty cave, but sleep wouldn’t come at first. She worried not about the kraken, but about Alakbar, and his enemies, and what Erlic had told them last night. There was no one type of person that she hated more than an assassin, and an entire group of religious killing machines filled her with equal amounts of loathing and fear. She worried and chewed on her nails, through out the night, her eyes finally closing as exhaustion finally kicked in.

When morning came, she overslept of course, thanks to her late night worrying, but she was up as quickly as possible. After gathering her things, including her own weapon, the deadly bamboo bow, and the infamous lute from last night, she hurried down to the campfire where most of the others were, surprised to see them all relaxing around breakfast. Well, she supposed it was all right to eat a bit first, but her shock increased when she saw them going for seconds and thirds as though nothing at all was the matter.

After putting forth her general question (to which she received mostly blank looks) she hurried over to where Erlic was sitting and knelt down beside him. She placed a concerned hand on his shoulder and stared anxiously into his eyes.

“We are in no condition to defend ourselves if Alakbar’s captors should come looking for him,” she said carefully. It was then that she remembered that she had supposedly given up speaking to him—but it was too late now. She had broken first. Damn it! she thought, the uncharacteristic curse making her shudder, even if it were mentally spoken. Well, it didn’t matter. In troubled times, comrades must set aside their personal woes and bind together as one, ready to take on the amassed enemy with everything they had. It was a particularly noble and warrior-like thought, and she was quite proud of it, for she did not often think as a warrior ought. Maybe these people were starting to rub off on her. She thought it was the sort of thing Erlic would think, too, and that made her very happy.

“Come now, gather them together,” she urged, patting him encouragingly, “And no speeches; it’ll only waste time. You’re our leader, you know—well, you’re their leader, and they look to you to speak first.” She looked around quickly, frowning slightly. “Where is Isobel? Once she is found, we can be off.”

A few yards away, Rowan gripped Tia’s hand nervously after Laurel’s initial statement and glanced around at the others. “Maybe she’s right,” he muttered, squeezing the hand in his. “We should get out of this place before something…or someone attacks.” He hated to think about the true reality of trying to defend his nearly blind friend from a rabble of angry assassins, no matter how good it made him look. It was nice to know she’d gained a protector in Corum, though, despite the tendency the kid had to make him a little jealous whenever he spoke to her.

“Well, I wouldn’t really want Marz getting hurt again,” Tristan actually spoke up. A second later, the dragon’s face turned slightly pink, but he didn’t retract his statement. He stroked his sword pommel lightly while continuing to throw glares in Alakbar’s direction. “Somebody get that idiot a weapon or something,” he added with a mutter.

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