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Crown of Madness: Chapter One (A D&D Story)
Chapter One: The Crow’s Nest
Near the very tip of the Kingdom of San, just below the town of Feck and stationed directly to the right of the Sanorian Desert, was a small oasis town called Borre. For being an oasis, Borre wasn’t exactly prosperous, only a few squat buildings littered here and there, and was mainly used by travelers as refuge from the harsher terrain bordering it. On a typical night, however, the liveliest place to be would’ve been The Crow’s Nest tavern—though that wasn’t to say it was particularly crowded. There was nothing entirely remarkable about the tavern or its surroundings, yet something remarkable would soon be occurring there all the same.
One slow and quiet evening, just as the sunset was painting a fire in the south, a reserved figure in a sand-colored cloak unceremoniously entered the tavern, only stopping to tap their boots at the entrance before taking a seat at the bar.
“An ale please,” said the figure, pushing two copper pieces towards the barkeep. He took them and, before he could ask what kind, they replied, “It doesn’t matter. Anything will do.”
The barkeep nodded and went to fetch the figure their drink. As they were doing so, the figure drew back their hood to reveal a dark-skinned woman almost completely obscured by a mess of tan wrapping coiled all the way up to her forehead. Letting her hair down, she scanned around the tavern cautiously. There were a few people seated around tables listening to an elven man play his lute atmospherically on the stage, some lizardfolk and a goliath man muttering to themselves close by, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Satisfied, the woman grabbed the ale that was handed to her and took a long swig. All she had to do was stay at the tavern tonight and she’d be on her way. As long as there wasn’t any hiccups, she’d be fine, just fine. She was following the sun down the land, hoping to get as far as she could from this barren country…
While the woman was drinking and trailing deeper into her thoughts, she failed to notice a tiny crooked talon reaching her cloak and stealing away six gold pieces. The young kenku skittered off to his next victim, using the darkened lighting and low tabletops to his advantage. He’d been hiding in the tavern all day, stealing bits of coin undetected from everyone who’d come in. After rummaging through some of the humans’ belongings and thieving just the right amount from the lizardfolk, the kenku decided to pickpocket the goliath for a second time, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything of value. From the safety underneath the table, the boy began to softly rifle through the gigantic man’s pockets. After a moment of finding nothing and believing to have taken everything, eventually his little claws plucked out a glittering ring, illuminated ever so slightly by the candlelight. Just as he thought he’d gotten away scot-free, the kenku turned around—only to have his wing grappled by the bulging hand of the man he’d been feeling up. He cried out in song.
“Give it back,” growled the goliath in a deep tone, “or I’ll wring your neck.”
The kenku’s marble-like eyes widened in fear. Again, he let out a melodious call for help. At that moment, the elven man performing glanced in that direction and, upon seeing the bird-like creature in trouble, stood up and made his way over to the scene. All the while, his fingers never ceased their intricate movement on his lute.
“What seems to be the issue, my friends?” asked the elven bard in a thick northern accent.
“This bird stole my ring,” spat the goliath. “I’m simply making certain he returns it.”
With a violent yank, the enormous man pulled the kenku into the air upside down and began shaking him. Frightened, the kenku tightened his grip on the ring, but was unable to stop to horde of coins from falling out of his purse and scattering on the ground. Seeing this, the rest of the tavern—including the two lizardfolk and the bandaged woman—checked their pockets and baggage for anything missing. Upon realizing they’d been stolen from, the entire bar, save the woman, stood up and began to swarm towards the helpless bird-child. Before they could overtake him, however, the crowd instantly cooled as they felt the music soothe their heated emotions. It wasn’t the tune that changed, but how they heard it. As swiftly as the room shifted, the mood fixed back to one of pacifism. Even the woman, despite not joining the mob, felt a pleasant, relaxing wave corrupt her state of being, instead of the instantaneous fear that’d occurred upon the recognition of thievery, bringing an exceptionally rare smile to her worn lips. Once he had achieved what he’d wanted, the elven man quit his melody and slung the lute over his shoulder. He looked up in front of him. The goliath was still scowling and the kenku was still petrified, both seemingly undrugged by the song.
“Well, I’m sure we can work something out,” the bard replied as tranquilly as possible as to not escalate the situation further. “I’d be willing to pay you double what was stolen from you if you’d kindly right this poor creature.”
“I want my ring!” roared the goliath. “Give me my ring, bird, or I’ll break your spine!”
“That is uncalled for.” The elf looked up at the dangling kenku and gave a pleading smile. “Please return this good man’s ring, would you?”
The young boy didn’t need to be asked twice. He let go of the ring, which the elf promptly caught and returned to the goliath. The next second, the kenku dropped onto the wood. He quickly scampered back to his feet and ran timidly behind the elf, cawing as he coward.
“No harm, no foul,” said the elf to the black bird gently. He then raised his voice as he turned to the rest of the tavern. “Please, everyone, come orderly and retrieve only that which was taken from you.”
At this, the woman stood up and hastily pocketed her missing gold along with the rest of the customers in the room, including the barkeep. And while everyone was distracted, the bard quietly escorted the kenku outside of the tavern to the back alley. He bent down to the bird boy’s eye level and gave him a stern glare.
“What is your name?” the elven man asked.
“Fuck!” chirped the kenku happily. He was grateful for his rescuer and immediately took out a silver piece to give to him.
The bard shook his head. “Thank you, but I must respectfully decline. I do not need the money as much as you seem to. You must be in grave circumstances to attempt to steal from such intimidating people.” He gave a moment pause for thought. “Still, and I say this as a friend and a person who understands, I feel it is in your best interest not to return to that establishment. If you are in need of funds,”—he reached inside a pocket in his cloak and produced ten gold—“I pray this will suffice. For now, at least.”
The bird boy replied in a perfect replication of the man’s voice. “Thank you.” He took the gold and stowed it away in his purse.
“Where is your home, little one?” asked the elf. “Perhaps I can accompany you there to ensure no harm comes your way.”
Fuck shook his head, looking up at the man sadly. Without hesitation, the bard instantly understood and put a hand on the young boy’s shoulder. “I see. So you do not have a home. Just like me and my brother.” He thought carefully for a moment. “Well, I suppose there’s always room for more of Rhevoltaz’s creature’s in my company. Would you like to join me in my travels for a while? At least until we can situate you in a proper home.”
Eagerly, the little kenku nodded, giving as much of a smile as his thin beak would allow.
“Fantastic!” How well can you carry a tune? If you are to join my gallivant, you will also have to join my band. I am a traveling bard, after all.”
Inhaling deeply, Fuck let out a shriller, yet much more refined than earlier, musical note. When it was done, the elf nodded his head slowly, as if to say, “That will do.”
“Welcome Fuck, my friend,” said the man. “I am Iliris Maldragin, and it is a pleasure to have you in my company. And this here is…” Iliris reached into his cloak, seeming to be looking for something. After a few seconds, when nothing was retrieved, his lips thinned in confusion and worry. “Where…where is Checkers?”
Back inside The Crow’s Nest, the cloaked woman returned to her seat to find a small red rodent standing on the barstool and drinking from her ale. The weasel looked up at her unabashed as its tiny pink tongue gluttonously licked up the foam. For a moment, the woman couldn’t muster any response whatsoever. The sight in front of her was so bizarre and out of left field it was difficult to form any sort of action other than the perplexed look she was giving. Then, after a bit of silence, she reached her hand out slowly towards the animal. Immediately, the weasel hissed and jumped from the bar, toppling the ale onto the woman as it dropped to the ground and scampered around legs and table legs to escape. Not entirely sure why (perhaps it was from the irritation of being doused in alcohol), the woman dashed after the rodent, tailing it as it lurched out the door just as someone was entering.
“Ah, there you are, Checkers,” said Iliris as the red weasel bounded around the corner and leapt straight into his cloak for hiding. Before he could ask his furry friend what was the matter, the pursuing woman appeared, stopping dead in her tracks as all three living beings turned to face her. Checkers chittered as he popped his head out of Iliris’s well-worn collar. The elf looked at her quizzically. “Why, who might this radiant woman be?”
Still under the influence of his charm, the woman replied in a quiet tone, “…Enddlin. Who are you?”
“Iliris Maldragin.” The bard reached for her hand to politely kiss it. Even under his spell, however, she pulled away. Enddlin didn’t seem to care to be touched. Noticing this, Iliris retracted his greeting and immediately bowed. “Apologies. I do not wish to offend.”
Enddlin gave the curtest shake of the head, as if to say, “No worries,” before shifting are attention to Fuck. “What are you doing with the thief?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes.
“Join my gallivant,” Fuck recited, inching behind Iliris once more.
“Yes, I was just inviting poor Fuck here to join my travels,” Iliris responded. “He has no home, you see. I did not want him to be torn apart in that tavern simply over a bit off harmless pickpocketing.”
“I wouldn’t call it harmless…” Enddlin muttered, then switched her attention back to Iliris. She looked him over curiously for a moment. “Are you a traveler?”
“Why, yes. I am currently in the midst of relocation. Why do you ask, Endalin?’
“Enddlin. And I ask only because I’m wondering if you’re in need of any more companions.”
“Hmm.” Iliris scratched his chin as he mulled over the prospect. “I do not see any immediate issues with a fourth traveler in my band. In fact, the more the merrier, as the expression goes. Of course, I’d have to check with my new friend here if that will be alright.” He turned back to look down at Fuck. “Is this agreeable to you, little one?”
Fuck gave Enddlin a long apprehensive stare. He seemed almost frightened by her and her mysterious aura. After a minute or two, though, Fuck realized that Iliris was doing him a massive favor by taking him in and, if this woman could be trusted, the more protection the better. Slowly, the bird boy grabbed hold of Iliris’s robes and nodded his beak yes into them.
Iliris clapped his hands together and smiled warmly. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Excellent. Do you by chance happen to know how to play any instruments?”
“No,” Enddlin responded.
“Very well, I can teach you. Do you have a place to stay for the night?”
And just like that, a human, an elf, and a kenku suddenly became a party, unaware of just what mysteries, conspiracies, and adventures would lie ahead of them—and not knowing that one of them would go missing upon arrival at their next destination.
Author: @besttardywrites
Story: @besttardywrites, @homeforavagabond, @kurashira13, dops32
From a photo shoot at Art is Life Studio in 2016, which I used to work at! If you’re in the Dallas area, you don’t want to miss out on Jenice’s Photography!
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