sexta-feira, 31 de julho de 2009

New Friends

“You are hereby condemned to hanging for murder attempt against lord Timaeus” those were the judge’s final words. Tavian tried to tell them the truth, reveal Razel as the viper he was. But how could a simple rogue’s word stand against a noble of Nartak family? He was dragged from the courtroom back to his cell to await his own death.

“Damn that Razel!” he cursed aloud in his moist filled cell “How could I, Tavian Dragontouch, let that elf befoul me like this?” he kept asking himself.

“Dragontouch?” asked a voice nearby. It came from the cell in front of Tavian’s own. Scanning the bars of the opposite cell door, he found a small, rotund individual. Dirty hair and beard, with a big and round nose and earth-brown eyes, the dwarf was anxiously staring at him “Are ye a Dragontouch, lad?” the dwarf asked again.

“Indeed, good dwarf. I am Tavian Dragontouch, son of Anson, the bard” Tavian answered “And who might you be?”

“I’m Alfgir, Alfgir Axeweave, from Mithral Hall” the dwarf replied “Many years passed since I heard the name Dragontouch. Never I expected to hear it again in jail!” he said, laughing “I knew yer father, lad. He travelled a lot to Mithral Hall back in the days. How’s he?” Alfgir asked.

“Dead.” Tavian answered coldly “Or alive. I don’t really know nor do I care.”

“Why’s that lad?” the dwarf asked with a puzzled expression.

“He didn’t come for me after I ran into the woods during a raid on our town” Tavian remembered “I don’t really know how the whole town fared that day. All that I know is that I was left alone in the woods. I kept on running when after two days my father didn’t come for me. I found myself in the streets of this city in a tenday.

“Since then, it’s been a rogue’s life for me. You know, stealing, murdering, the works.”

“Ye don’t plan to ever see him again?” Alfgir asked “I surely can’t believe that Anson Dragontouch hasn’t searched for ye in all these years.”

“I really don’t care” the rogue answered, with a tone of finality in his voice “Right now, I can only think of that bastard Razel that got me behind these damned bars.”

Tavian told Alfgir the whole story of his relation of hired hand with the noble elf. Told him about the way Razel betrayed him and his thirst for revenge.

“I’ll help ye to get out of here, Dragontouch. I owe it to yer father” Alfgir said “Can ye pick the locks from the cells?”

“I’m afraid not, Alfgir. My tools have been confiscated” he replied, sadly.

“Can’t ye make new ones?” the dwarf asked.

“If I had bones, or wood, I could try to make some. I still have this small blade.” Tavian answered, drawing a rusty little razor from his shoe.

“It’s your lucky day then lad. Seems that the last owner of me cell didn’t last long, and the guards didn’t bothered to clean it” Alfgir said, pointing at a skeleton lying in the opposite corner of his cell “Here!” he started throwing bones Tavian’s way “Help yerself!”

Tavian managed to grab a few bones from the ones that landed close enough to his cell “Great, these will do. I’ll start working on them tomorrow. My hanging is still far, a tenday or so from now. I think I can make them in time” he said “I appreciate your help, Alfgir” Tavian offered “Let’s get some rest.” Tavian turned back to his bedroll at the corner of the cell and curled into a little ball. His head started working fast. First Razel had to pay, and then maybe he could find some use for the dwarf. He though about several artifacts from several lords, until he understood witch would be the perfect one. The Nartak family ceremonial dagger. What a good replace weapon it would be for his confiscated dagger. He dismissed the thought for just a bit and managed to fall deep into sleep, in witch he murdered and tortured Razel in many, many fun ways.

2 comentários:

grassa disse...

Muito bom!

Cá aguardo um quarto capítulo.

DiDlas disse...

Estou com o Grassa. Não fisicamente, convêm esclarecer.

Para quando a continuação?