BNN: A Minor Inconvenience

Draconi Oct 30 2007 3:17PM


The veils and drapes were ripped aside, pouring daylight into the canopy bed upon which a much disheveled, and suddenly very displeased, mayor had been sleeping. The blinding light lessened, obstructed by a rough shadow, and the voice yelled again.

“Milord, please! Wake thyself, ‘tis urgent!”

The Mayor threw aside his blankets and wools, and grasped at the drapes, pulling himself aright. There had been the party, the long dancing into the night, the wine, the women, “Ah”, he thought, “the…”

“Daemons, milord, in the forest!” the plaintative voice continued, failing to heed the state of the lord of the house. The mayor’s eyes focused, the headache was horrendous, but he composed himself and looked up.

“Daemons? In the forest. Near the moongate?”

“Yes, milord!”

He nodded, looked down at his hands, they seemed very far away from his arms for some reason. The mayor looked up, his knuckles white as his hands clenched into fists on his knees.

“You woke me up, for… daemons?”

The soldier knew the tone, hesitated. “But sir, we’ve never seen them like this…” He was cut off.

“What do we usually, well, do, about daemons in the forest, young Belfry?”

The man’s armor clinked as he shifted uncomfortably. “We destroy them, sir. Or call the mages and dispel them.”

The mayor wasn’t even paying attention now, his hand hovering over his nightstand where an understanding servant had just placed a goblet of mead. He nodded, made an assenting sort of sound, nasal in quality, crystal clear in meaning.

“Mages? Yes, mages seem like a good idea.”

“Sir, we’re concerned that this isn’t ordinary,” but the soldier got no further.

“I said SUMMON SOME MAGES AND STOP WASTING MY TIME!” the mayor jumped up and pushed the spilling goblet against the poor man’s doublet, punctuating his point with each spilled drop.

“Sir! Yes sir!” and he was gone.

The mayor climbed back into bed, another day begun, and mindlessly worked himself back beneath the warm sheets. “Daemons. Unbelievable. What’s next?” he mumbled into a silk pillow.

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