A Mundane Conversation

by Aiden Turner

The man stepped through the tavern's threshold, stamping mud and muck
from his boots, carrying a large bundle of what seemed to be several cloaks
over his shoulder. Curious looks glanced his way but quickly darted to their
drinks, nervous faces not daring to look up, braver eyes venturing toward the
recently used broadsword on his hip.
'Trust wears thin these days. Perhaps they haven't seen a Draakin in a while.'
he sighed, regret flashing on his face.
He was armoured as a traditional Dragon Knight; steel plate with a dragon
motif. If he stood next to a jester, one would have a hard time picking out the
true fool.
Here, in this backwoods hamlet, he looked a god born of fire and death, to be
feared.
He smiled inwardly as he strode to the bar.

Pint of your darkest, my good man, the Knight's voice was strong with a hint
of command. Digging around a pouch on his belt, he produced a golden disc
and slapped it down in front of the barkeep, continuing his thought, and a
meal of some sort. I've travelled a long way and worked my bones to dust.
The barkeep nodded and hurried off to work, calling out to the kitchen behind
the bar. The Knight walked to the nearest empty table and sat into a chair with
a sigh, depositing his seemingly heavy burden on the ground beside him. He
watched with quiet amusement as the barkeep tried to stop his hand from
shaking, lest beer spill across the bar and onto nearby patrons. They weren't
dressed for wet weather.

'They worry too much,' the Knight shook his head, his mane of slick black hair
dancing around his shoulders. His eyes cast from the barkeep; something had
distracted him, a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. Now he took care to
really look at the other people occupying various different chairs around the
main room. He observed each occupant thoroughly, making note of each
minute detail. His gaze seemed to fall onto one patron in particular. A woman
of middle age, not unattractive but something about her, the way her smile
seemed too wide or her eyes seemed too full of glee, made her off-putting to
say the least.
'Found her.' he smiled at her, taking the stein from the barkeep as he shuffled
forward and raised it towards her with a bow of his head.
Her sly smile made his teeth clench and bile rise to his throat.

She stalked her way towards him, picking her way through the now emptier
tables between them.
'Funny. They were full a minute ago.'
What is a mighty knight doing in a place like this? Her voice ran like a hot-
iron grinding down his spine. This backwater needs no Dragon-lovers.
The words hissed from clenched teeth, that only he may hear.
He smiled at the jab, his body tensing up at her closeness, beads of sweat
betraying his nerves.
The Draakin fly where needed, ma'am. he bowed his head, This backwater is
no exception.
Her smile turned into a snarl with little change.
Well, mind if I take this seat? Quite lonely in this tavern.
The main room had cleared completely, the Knight, the barkeep, and the
woman the only bodies left.
He nodded and crossed his arms. However, knowing what must be done he
instead relaxed his body, the weight of the world finally taking its toll.
Her eyes turned to dangerous slits.
Why do you bother? These mortals don't care for you or your gods. Why not
just abandon them as they have abandoned you?
It was wondrous, how much faith he had lost, that the woman's words made
sense. His reply was silence as she continued.

You ruled them once, but now they have their own gods, the Guardian's Light
shuts itself in its grand cities, the Elementalists deny your rights to the air, the
Sand Scarab crawls the desert, looking for the answers to a lost question. You
are no longer needed nor wanted. They cower at your wake, they fear your
visage, and for what?
He closed his eyes at her attack.
Your gods hide from them, hiding in their heavens, hiding from the questions
they rightly deserver to answer.
His chin touched his chest.
The mortals need more than dead god's promises, promises made from
undead Dragon-lovers.
His breath caught in his throat.
Why do they need you? The spawn of a liar? Why would they heed you?
His eyes opened, his breathing now levelled, his head raised, and his voice rose
to a divine crescendo.
To stop them from falling to you!
She stopped, her smile wide and frightening, but he no longer cared. The only
sound now was the ringing of a tankard, left spinning as the barkeep ran away.
Want to know what's in the cloak?
Her smile wavered, uncertainty crossing her twisted features.