A Tale of Three [ONC 2024]

11

The bandits, or rogues, or whatever they were, turned out quite pleasant once they had stopped doing the whole bound captives thing, and Barrawen, the elven leader, seemed quite the dashing figure. Green suited him, which was good because he did wear an awful lot of it. Luthiriensis thought it may have something to do with camouflage within the forest beyond the moist caverns of the Ravishing Rut, but she thought it had more to do with the fact that he had little dress sense.

Poking the food around the bevelled stone used as a plate, Luthiriensis had other things on her mind than Barrawen and his extremely tight, literally leaving nothing to the imagination, green hose. Not even the thought of the food appearing to be a platter of animals not long dead and threatened with cooking turned her thoughts away from the one thing that had occupied her since their release.

"Do you know everyone along this journey?" She leaned in toward Pinto, the dragon, not eating, gazing about her with undisguised glee. "If you know all these people and ... Ugnth, why did you choose myself and Mott to aid you?"

"Oh, that's easy. Watch." Pinto flicked out her tail, over the campfire, and tapped Barrawen on the shoulder. "Hey, Bazza! Gammer Goodhiding is going to sacrifice the King's heir. Want to help me stop her?"

"Gammer Goodhiding?" Barrawen made a noticeable shiver, shaking his head with vigour, his pointy green hat with its green feather almost falling from his head. Every other member of Barrawen's band shuddered in much the same, terrified, fashion. "I'm not getting on her bad side! Ho, ho! No. Besides, it doesn't sound like her. Best to leave her alone, lest she turn the evil eye upon us all. Not that she is evil, of course, but she holds grudges like a hungry man clings to a nub of bread."

He gave a slow, knowing nod, as though that explained everything, before turning back to his friends. Mott, in particular, had appeared to take a shine to the charming bandit leader, leaning his bearded chin upon his hands, eyes wide, as Barrawen recounted the tale of the day he had fought a puppy and won. A dire wolf puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.

"She took mine." Eyes flickered, all around the campfire, to fall upon one man who wore a large hat that fell about his ears. He could hardly see. "I can believe it. Just because I happened to lie ... ahem ... mention that I was the long-lost son of a king from a kingdom over yonder way. You see, there was this girl and ... never mind. Anyway, she took mine and I've never been the same."

"She took your child?" Luthiriensis clasped both hands to her mouth, tears beading in her eyes. "Are there no end to her atrocities?"

"Child? What are you talking about?" The man, reluctantly, grabbed ahold of his hat, sweeping it to the side in a flourish. "She took my hair! My hair! I loved my hair. It was luxurious."

The man was, indeed, mostly bald, with little tufts poking out at odd angles and, Luthiriensis had to admit, if the rest of his hair looked anything like the tufts, the man could have felt great pride in his locks. As it was, he looked like a turkey that had refused to die and, as the cook plucked its feathers from its still living body, had managed to escape with a modicum of dignity, but not before it had lost the ability to cover itself. In fact, with the dangling jowls, the man made a good impression of a half-plucked turkey.

"Not hair! Heir!" Barrawen shook his head as he stood, resting one foot, rakishly, upon the log, pointing his nethers toward Mott. Curiously, Mott did not look away in disgust, or modesty. Barrawen frowned. "At least, I think that's what you meant? Right, Pinto?"

"Oh, yes." Pinto laughed as her clawed finger flicked at one of the man's tufts of hair. "What would an evil witch want with hair? Not that she is, actually, evil, of course. Nasty? Oh, yes. Vicious? Absolutely! Prone to spanking people that annoy her just because certain people happen to like the apples the Beldames grow in their orchard and refuse to share even one if you don't have coin and, well, look at me, where am I going to put coins? In my mouth?"