Private Tales Vultures

[Fieravene]

"No time for that either," Fiera declared, sweeping up behind the man and giving him a gentle shove of encouragement.

She vaulted over the railing after him, dropping into the mountainous dragon hoard and sliding to the bottom of a pile to the tune of tumbling gold and jewels and all sorts of shiny valuables.

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris felt himself falling forward, earlier and less elegantly than intended. His arms flapped in a curious, vain attempt to regain his balance - completed with an assortment of noises that could variously be described as grunts, gasps, and wrathful squawks.

It was not an elegant process. The landing less so. He landed face-first onto the pile and slid gently to the bottom. Gaheris wobbled to his feet, brushed his hair out of his eyes, and spat out a small sapphire.

"Fucking..."

There was possibly more to this line of thought he intended to offer. But he might have forgotten about it now that he was attuned to his surroundings. Shame could be felt later. This was a time for pure greed.

He shoveled generous handfuls of gold into the sack, including reclaiming the small gem he'd just spit out. It looked expensive.

If Gamlek was still screaming, he could no longer hear it.

 

[Fieravene]

Fiera picked herself up, dusting coins and jewelry off her figure and turning to the sound of distant but distinct cracking and crunching. That was the song of an orc being devoured. He was not screaming anymore. Some light footwork got her up the next mound to where she could survey the broader scope of the chamber and there, across the way at the west end where Gamlek had previously been distracting the dragon, she saw the shadow of the beast prowl by one open doorway.

"Quickly...quickly," she intoned to the man while he fed his greed.

A roar rumbled through the old ruins and Fi watched as one of Gaheris' minions was summarily disintegrated by dragonfire. Alerted to this, she slid back down and grabbed at the man's nearest arm to haul him off in the direction of their exit.

"Time's up, turtledove - let's go go go!"

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris was jerked up and away from the pile, snapped out from his focus on the gold. All said, Gaheris had fixed himself a decent enough set of earnings. Far more than he'd make in a year of honest labor, that was for sure.

Maybe honest wasn't the right word. Typical labor, maybe.

"Don't call me that," he protested, struggling to tie the sack shut as Fiearvene dragged him along, "And let go of me, I can follow myself!"

He heard the dragon roar again, for the first time since falling from the balcony. The sound of a distant inferno flowing through hallways. Gaheris had an inkling that some skeletons were caught up in it, burnt to ashes. One of those instinctual connections.

It reminded Gaheris of the existence and nature of his possibly impending demise... So he became very quiet again.

 

[Fieravene]

She'd built up speed as she cleared the main portion of the treasure trove, hauling the man past remnants of furnishings and art left from a bygone era.

"Sorry darling, I am disinclined to acquiesce to this request-"

RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOORRRRRR

Aaaand there was the dragon, snaking in through a larger doorway, green head on a swivel as it sent a fresh spray of fire across another collection of ambling skeletons.

"You humans are about as spry as a potato in a bowl of molasses, now curb your whinging and keep up!" She yanked him under a partially collapsed column of stone and down the main corridor leading out of the grand feast hall. From here they were (hopefully) in the clear so long as his minions continued to keep the dragon entertained.

 

[Gaheris]

It seemed Gaheris was too preoccupied trying to keep up to continue any more complaints about her grip on him. That or his mind was still on the dragon. He glanced worryingly over his shoulder at the sound of the roar, nearly smashed his face into the column she took him through.

Back in the hallway, the skeletons were behaving like any proper nuisance would. The armed skeletons hacked uselessly at the dragon's limbs, weapons too old and dull to do any damage, but enough to make an annoyance.

The ones without weapons continued running around. The braver ones grappled the tail, others were trying to climb the flank. The dragon twisted and snapped, dispatching skeletons as easily as someone might crush a bunch of insects. They were just making it difficult to do so.

Gaheris, only half listening, sputtered out a few words once the dragon was out of sight. "A potato in what...?"

Must have been an Elf thing.

 

[Fieravene]

Down the great hall they blazed, ground shuddering beneath their feet as the dragon roared and hissed at its would-be oppressors. Tiles fell from the ceiling in a mixture of grit and ages of dust, causing Fiera to dip and weave with her potato-human in tow. They cleared the end of the hall just as another column and massive chunk of fresco plummeted to the ground and smashed to bits. The dark elf came to a stop, finally releasing Gaheris as the atrium came into view where the two goons stood (is that gold in your pockets or are you just thrilled to see us?) next to a very concerned looking Daisy the mule.

With a wayward and wide-eyed glance back over her shoulder, Fiera claimed a deep gulp of air and moved forward to untie the mule, "No time to tarry, that distraction won't last long. We'll be leaving through the back door. Take those stairs over there - quickly now!"

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris was, of course, grateful to be released from Fieravene's vice-grip. Now instead of being dragged along like a dazed, confused child, he could stumble along like a dazed, confused adult. The armsmen were loitering around, but in a skittish way that suggested they had been precariously close to leaving. Probably with Daisy in tow.

Piss-pants fidgeted, "What about Gamlek?"

Apparently he hadn't heard the screams. Or he just didn't put two and two together. The other one, however, clearly had a greater sense of perception.

"What about us? Come on, Mimzy," he said, and took the reins of the donkey.

Gaheris marched along at a brisk pace, clearly intent on leaving, not looking panicked, and keeping a handle on his precious gold. Multitasking even in times of great crisis, as usual.

 

[Fieravene]

A moderately harrowing adventure through dark tunnels later...

What felt like several hours spent in the dark lead by bright crimson eyes along treacherous caverns, Fieravene lead the small troop out into the light of daybreak. They found themselves blinking up into gently brightening skies deep into the mountain range, several miles from where their adventure had started.

Their horses were likely a few hours trek from here, but the elf's spirits could not be dampened by the prospect of a bit of walking.

"There you have it boys," she smiled as she stepped out into open air, "daylight and not a tremble of dragon. How's that for an evening's fortune?"

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris, not much of an outdoorsman, sucked in the fresh air with a deep, relieved breath. Once again, the likelihood of him dying above ground rather than below it was restored to acceptable odds. No dragons. No undead.

Just the mountains and the open air - crisp and fresh.

He desperately wanted to return to the guildhall, shove this sack of gold under his bed, and sleep for the next era. But there would be walking to do. And he had no idea where, exactly, they were in relation to their abandoned mounts.

"Not a tremble of Gamlek either," he grimly remarked, hefting his bag of gold and taking a few steps away from the cave entrance. "Where are we?"

 

[Fieravene]

"West," Fiera replied simply, moving to take the lead of the mule from the one idiot, "we'll reach the horses again by midday." The elf reached into a pouch attached to the harness and withdrew a waterskin from which she drank deeply.

"So long as we don't run into any mountain trolls."

A smirk followed, she replaced the waterskin and pulled out a handful of what appeared to be jerky. Taking a bite, she leaned toward Gaheris to bob her eyebrows smugly at him before leading Daisy off along the mountain path.

"Or gryphons."

 

[Gaheris]

The armsman handed off the reins, scratching the back of his head. "Hope it's not trolls. Can't stand trolls."

"Gryphons is worse," the other one said, by this point having dried off but not stopped smelling, "At least trolls can't fly."

Gaheris, ever the picture of resentful consternation, ignored the both of them. "How often do you run into trolls or gryphons up here...?"

Non-answers from Fieravene were always a red flag, but the comments about monsters were... Redder, so to speak.

 

[Fieravene]

"Whenever they get hungry, I suppose."

Fiera waved the notion off as if he just asked how often she encountered clouds in the sky or rats in the city. Didn't he know that trolls and gryphons were just a normal thing on any grand adventure? Honestly, it was as if he never did anything fun at all.

Apparently today the trolls and gryphons weren't very hungry. They reached the horses without any fanfare. Fiera ponied Daisy to her steed and mounted up.

"Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure," the carved smile she offered them wasn't particularly reassuring on the matter, "I trust you can find your way back to town on your own. Do try not to spend your bounty all in one place, hm?"

 

[Gaheris]

Gaheris had never been so relieved to see horses as he was in that particular moment.

He shuffled over with renewed energy when they came into sight, hurriedly stowing his haul. They would ride full speed back to town and then enough time would pass where this whole miserable affair felt more like a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on what details he could recall.

They had an extra horse on account of the dead armsman. Gaheris didn't even notice one of the other armsmen going through their dead companion's saddlebags.

"I think," he grunted with exertion as he mounted his trusty steed, "We'll be just fine."

 

[Fieravene]

The elf turned her horse to take a path that would lead her away from town.

Far away from what would likely become a smoldering graveyard by nightfall.

"You should probably spend it quickly though. Maybe even on the way," Fiera gestured with a hand as if sprinkling coins and jewels about, "you know, to make it harder for the dragon to track you and her hoard."

A chirrup of a laugh followed as she nudged her horse into a reluctant trot up the hill, "Good luck!"