At The Dragon's Lair Tavern

Jihan leads the way, mounted on Wise Nose, scouting out the terrain with his keen sight. Some 30 paces behind, Winnacer leads the main party riding Warwinner. Xavier is next to him mounted on Riverdancer, followed by Corrow on Caelli. Yaz leads Giselle, whose cart contains rather a large pile of spare arms and armor now, leaving just enough space for Maire and Heimlin to sit. Darius dawdles behind on foot, sitting on the cart whenever he gets tired.

The group follows the path northwards, saying very little to each other. Heimlin continues with his worried actions, constantly praying to Kamen to protect his son and daughter-in-law.

Early in the afternoon, Heimlin speaks to them all.

'If you're still keen to investigate Boscobelous' tower after you've dropped me off, then it's over there' Heimlin says, pointing to a range of hills to the northwest. 'It's probably about eight miles from here, on the brow of the highest hill on the range.'

They all look in that direction to see if they can see the tower. However, it is too far away to make out anything, even for Jihan's keen eyes.

They carry on until around 6.00pm when they are all starting to get a little tired. It has been a long time since any of them were in the saddle, so even the most experienced riders in the group are getting a little saddle sore. Winnacer states that it should be time to start looking for some shelter for the evening.

'If it's OK with you, I'd rather that we carried on for another hour. In an hour's time, we will have to cross the River Upa by ford.' says Heimlin.

There are loud groans and curses from many members of the group as they learn this piece of information. No one is particularly keen to cross another ford for a while yet.

Heimlin continues:

'Don't worry about this ford. I know this one quite well. Just on this side of the ford is the hamlet of Zvoley and in the hamlet is the Dragon's Lair tavern, which just happens to be run by an old friend of mine, an old dwarf called Burl. I'm sure that he'll be happy to put us up for the night. The tavern looks over the ford, so it's not such a good ambush spot as the last ford was. Still, I don't fancy trying to cross it at dark, just in case.'

The party carries on traveling for another hour and a half, by which time dusk is starting to fall. Then, the small hamlet of Zvoley is sighted. It is hardly a settlement at all by the look of it, really just five buildings huddled by the side of the river.

'I'm nervous that Felibarr might have got some more friends hiding in the village ready to ambush us. Let me scout the area out to ensure that we don't run into any problems.' Says Jihan.

'Sounds like a good plan to me' says Heimlin, 'but keep your head down, no one here will have ever seen an elf before, and it might make them nervous.'

Jihan disappears to scout out the hamlet and returns five minutes later.

'The coast looks clear to me, but something's going on in the Dragon's Lair. It's packed with people, although I'm glad to say that none of them appear to be Nyemetz.'

The party carries on into the hamlet. There are stables situated right next to the Dragon's Lair. Heimlin gives the stableboy a gold piece and tells him to take especially good care of their horses and Giselle. The stables seem to be very busy indeed, with just about all of the stalls being occupied.

Before they all go into the tavern, Heimlin gives them a warning:

'Now yer'd all better be on yer best behavior in 'ere as they don't usually take well to strangers. Jihan and Yaz, yer'd better keep a low profile as these people ain't never seen no elves before. I ain't sayin' that they's gonna be 'ostile, although some o' the dwarves blame yer kind for the Civil War an' the Nyemetz invasion. It's best that you should know.'

He then turns to Darius.

'An' as for you, my little friend, you'd better be on yer VERY best behavior. Folks round here sure as 'ell don't appreciate yer kind very much, so yer'd best not be gettin' into any o' yer mischief, or there'll be trouble.'

The gnome tells them all to wait just outside the door while he goes in to see if Burl is still there. They all wait as Heimlin enters the tavern. They then all hear a booming bass voice cry out:

'AS I LIVE AND BREATHE! HEIMLIN GOLDSTONE! I THOUGHT THAT THE NYEMETZ WOULD HAVE HAD YOUR CARCASS ROTTING IN THE MINES OF KUTNA HORA YEARS AGO!'

They then hear Heimlin's familiar voice call out:

'BURL, YOU OLD BASTARD! AND I'D 'AVE THOUGHT THAT YOU'D HAVE POISONED YERSELF WITH THAT FILTHY DISHWATER YER CALLS BEER!'

The two of them then both burst into laughter and then the volume subsides a little. Heimlin comes out a couple of minutes later looking quite cheerful. He seems to have put the fear of his family being in peril behind him.

'Burl's clearin' a table at the back for us. Remember what I said, non-humans. Be on yer best behavior.'

They all enter the Dragon's Lair. They all see that the place is packed to the rafters. The majority of the occupants are humans, although there is a large contingent of dwarves there also. To their surprise, there are also a few gnomes and halflings amongst the other patrons as well. They check out each of the halflings carefully, but none of them are Felibarr.

As they sit down at the table that has been cleared for them, a serving wench brings over a large tray of foaming beer steins that she places in front of them. They sit down. No one appears to be paying much attention to them. Everyone is enjoying themselves, getting as drunk as they can in the process. Burl spends a few minutes talking with Heimlin, and then excuses himself. They watch him as he walks to the right side of the room, which is empty, and claps his hands loudly.

'LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DWARVES AND GNOMES, HALFLINGS AND…ERRM…OTHERS, WE'VE GOT A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU ALL THIS EVENING. HE'S A YOUNG LAD WHO'S COME ALL THE WAY FROM KOLEEN TO BE WITH US THIS EVENING, AND HE'S NEVER BEEN TO ZVOLEY BEFORE. SO, PLEASE PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND GIVE A WARM DRAGON'S LAIR WELCOME TO …MR…GRIFF…STARBURST!'

A side door opens and a young man in his early twenties walks in to hearty applause. He is tall and thin and wears a black leather jacket with 'Griff' written on the back in studs. In his hands, he carries a mandolin.

He thanks the crowd and strikes his first note. It's out of tune, so he spends a couple of minutes re-tuning the instrument while the crowd starts muttering to each other. He is then ready, and starts his first song.

It's pretty awful, but the audience is fairly patient. A thin ripple of applause greets him as he finishes. The second song is also bad and the audience starts to get a little restless.

'Sing Yiri of Podyebrad' a drunken voice cries out, but Griff ignores it. At the end of the second song there is a flat silence.

'Sing Yiri of Podyebrad' a second voice cries out. 'C'mon, there ain't no Nyemetz around.'

'Just my own material, sorry' says Griff, somewhat annoyed.

He launches into his third song, which is even worse than the first two.

By now the audience is starting to get impatient and loud boos start to get shouted by the now very merry audience. As he continues, the occasional greasy chicken leg gets thrown at him. The audience starts a low chant.

'YIRI! YIRI! YIRI! WE WANT YIRI!'

The chant continues, getting louder all the time, drowning out the song of the unfortunate bard. After finishing the third song, Griff finally caves in:

'ALL RIGHT THEN. IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT!' Griff shouts angrily.

He strums a chord on his mandolin and sings:

'King Karel's blood did run through his veins…'

The crowd starts to go wild as a huge cheer goes up

'A man who will release Bohavia from chains…'

The crowd is going berserk, but then shut up so that they can hear the full song.

The song tells the story of Yiri of Podyebrad who was born to a nobleman who was a grandson of King Karel the Great during the Civil War. While Yiri was still an infant, the Nyemetz invaded. The nobleman and his wife knew that they would be put to death by the Nyemetz, so left Yiri on the steps of the Monastery of Kitry just outside Podyebrad just hours before they were captured. Through his childhood, he was cared for by the monks and educated in the ways of Kitry. His father was a mighty warrior, and Yiri inherited his father's might, growing into a strong and powerful young man. On his eighteenth birthday, Kitry herself came to him and was said to have chosen him as her paladin, to become the leader who would reunite Bohavia and return the country to the status that was achieved by his legendary great grandfather. He told the Head of the Monastery, who told him that it was a vision and that he must leave the place in order to fulfill his destiny.

Yiri did leave the Monastery and began to take on the Nyemetz. First he sought out individual Nyemetz and challenged them to duels, which he always won. Then he got more confident and started to take on platoons of Nyemetz and finally companies, always winning. This, not surprisingly, annoyed the hell out of the Nyemetz who started sending entire regiments after him. He fled to the fringes of the Shumava forest and made a secret base there. As stories of his exploits spread, a number of other Bohavians rallied around him and, together, they started to take on whole regiments of Nyemetz.

As more and more Nyemetz died, their leaders became more and more determined to defeat Yiri and his band of men, bringing their top wizard from Nyemetzko in order to finish him off once and for all. One of Yiri's most amazing feats was to single-handedly destroy the black dragon, Darkwing, which was geased to the wizard.

At this point it looked certain that Yiri would indeed rally the whole of Bohavia to his cause, but then disaster struck. Yiri fell in love. One of Yiri's most trusted friends had a beautiful sister called Monika, with long blonde hair and an angelic smile. Yiri was devoted to her. Although she lived in a small village with her invalid father, Monika would steal out of the village in the dead of night in order to spend time with her beloved Yiri. A friend of Monika's was jealous of her relationship, and informed the Nyemetz about this situation. Secretly, the Nyemetz assembled a huge band of ogre mercenaries who followed Monika on her journey from her village to Yiri's secret base. What happens next is not sure. Definitely, all of Yiri's band of followers was killed in the fight with the ogres. Some say that Yiri was killed. Some say that he fled alone. Others say that he fled together with Monika. Others say Monika killed herself with poison, while others say that she was imprisoned in the castle of Karlsteyn as a hostage in case Yiri ever tries to stir up trouble ever again.

Griff finishes the ballad of Yiri of Podyebrad and the crowd goes completely wild, cheering and shouting at the top of their lungs. Realizing that it is better to leave on a high, Griff bows deeply and then starts to go from table to table with his hat held out in front of him, into which are deposited a large number of coins from the delighted audience.

He moves to the back of the room and comes to the party's table. He bows, and holds out his heavy hat in front of them. At the same time, Burl comes to the table and sits down next to Heimlin.

Griff gladly accepts the gold piece donated by Winnacer and also accepts the offer of a chair, as theirs is the last table in the tavern.

Winnacer complements him on his rendition of 'Yiri of Podyebrad' and asks him how he came to learn the ballad.

'I was taught the ballad by a bard known as Pankratz when he passed through my town of Koleen a few months ago. Pankratz told me that he learned the ballad directly from the mouth of Oldrich, who is perhaps the greatest bard alive in Bohavia today - if he is alive, that is. He disappeared without a trace around a year ago. No one knows where he is now.'

Winnacer then asks what fate Griff thinks truly befell Yiri.

Griff gives a shrug and answers:

'To me, it's just a song. I don't believe that Yiri ever existed. I think that Oldrich came up with the whole idea himself. Always a big drinker was Oldrich, by legend. I think that he came up with the tale because he knew that Bohavians would pay well for a well-crafted tale of hope.'

'Pankratz wasn't so sure. He told me that Oldrich was totally convinced that the story was real, even when he was sober. Oldrich even claims to know where to find the real Yiri in hiding, although Yiri has sworn him to secrecy.'

'I still don't know what to think. Like all loyal Bohavians, I dearly hope that the tale is true. But, if it's not, at least it gives me a chance to earn a little coin from ungrateful peasants who don't appreciate an original song.'

With this, he looks around the room a little with a sneer on his face and starts to drink from the flagon of ale that Burl has placed before him.

Yaz listens to the bard as he talks to the party at the table.

"Where do ya say Oldrich got to?" he asks. "Nyemetz get 'im? Know anybody who'd know? Might be fun to try and find him. This Yiri guys sounds like he could help our..."

He pauses self-consciously. "...Help us."

'Taken by the Nyemetz?' replies Griff, dourly supping his ale. 'P'raps. The Nyemetz hate that song. It's banned. That's why I never rush to sing it. You never know whether there's a collaborator in the audience who'll run to the Nyemetz like a spoiled child. There's many a bard in Bohavia that received a public flogging for singing "Yiri".'

'But perhaps the old drunk just drank himself stupid and fell asleep outside during the snows of last winter and froze to death. It's a common cause of death amongst those who like a drop of the hard stuff. I don't know who'd know where he is. Oldrich was always a loner, wandering from place to place, never putting down roots. I wouldn't know where to start looking for him.' He shrugs.

They sit at their table and watch the other occupants of the Dragon's Lair get more and more inebriated. Heimlin and Burl spend much of the evening talking about old times, the days before the Nyemetz came.

The customers of the tavern start to drift away, until there are just a few tables left occupied. Burl decides that it is time to call last orders and, within half an hour, the place is fairly empty.

'Any chance of putting us all up for the night?' asks Heimlin.

Burl is happy to oblige. There are only four rooms still available and so the members of the party have to double up. However, the rooms of the inn are comfortable and so they all get a good night's sleep, despite their worrying as to what the next day may bring.

 

16 SEPTEMBER 3460

They awake around 8.00, a little groggy after the amount of ale that many of them consumed the previous night. The rest was good for their systems and they all feel fine, at least physically. All go through their regular morning routines, paying extra special diligence as the spell casters read their spellbooks or pray to their gods and the warriors sharpen their weapons, not knowing what they might expect upon arriving at Heimlin's house. Walking downstairs into the bar area, they see that Burl has prepared a hearty breakfast of porridge and apples for you all, which soon soaks up any excess alcohol in your system.

Maire' asks Burl in her quite proficient dwarvish as to whether there is anywhere where she could purchase some new clothes and some decent footwear. Burl scratches his beard a little:

'Yindrik the tanner will surely be able to sort you out with a good pair o' boots, but there ain't no one in Zvoley sellin' clothes. But …wait 'ere a mo'

Burl returns a couple of minutes later with a couple of small women's dresses.

'You given up wearin' 'em, 'ave yer Burl?' sniggers Heimlin.

'Yer cheeky bastard gnome' chuckles Burl. 'All the same you lot are. No, these belonged to me late wife. I'm sure that she'd be pleased that a nice young girl like you were to be wearin' 'em.

Maire' looks at them. They are a little small and hardly the height of fashion, but they will suffice. So as not to offend the dwarf, she thanks Burl profusely.

Maire' and Yaz walk to the leatherworker where Maire' asks Yindrik to knock up a nice pair of boots for her, which he is glad to do. Yaz shows him the leather armor but Yindrik shakes his head.

'Horribly shoddy work, and it looks like the previous owners got quite roughed up. I wouldn't sell them in my shop. I'd be ashamed of having them.'

Yaz thanks the leatherworker for his time, and puts the armor back onto Giselle's cart.

Heimlin wishes Burl farewell, and the party walks to the stables in order to get their mounts. They are all still there, having been well fed and watered during the night. They ride through the narrow street in Zvoley and see the ford before them.

Heimlin was not lying when he said that the ford over the River Upa does not present such a good ambush site as the ford across the River Orlitze that caused so much difficulty less than 24 hours earlier. The terrain on the opposite side of the river is pastureland, before rising to more foothills. In addition, the Upa is only half as wide as the Orlitze, being just 20 yards wide at this point.

Being cautious, Winnacer and Xavier go across the ford first, on their mounts, while the others cover them with their weapons. They discover that the river here is less than three feet deep in the center, meaning that it is not so difficult to cross. Winnacer and Xavier check the immediate area, but find no ambush waiting. The rest of the party crosses behind them, and then they all carry on their journey together.