You all struggle one by one up the pipe. You emerge shortly thereafter from the far end into a shallow pool on one side of a small river. You are surrounded by thick trees, which give way to palms and some visible late-afternoon sky towards the beach. As you emerge on the sandy edge of the pool, the little dragon shoots out of the water with a fish in his mouth. He flips it upwards, spinning in through the air and catching it again to gulp it down. He flies back to Twix's shoulder, where he tucks his head under his wing and belches discreetly.
There is noise from the direction of the beach. Some cautious reconnoitering on Gepetto's part reveals chaos down on the beach. The tower is in flames, and half of it has already collapsed, presumably into the tunnel you lately vacated. The porters have dropped their bundles some distance away on the sand and have formed a bucket brigade which seems to be having little effect. There are a couple of merchants conferring anxiously near the water. One is gesturing vehemently out to sea, where you can just see the notch of a sail against the horizon. The other is gesticulating with equal vigor in the general direction of the jungle. And your party. And the soldiers are running around shouting at the porters, each other, and sometimes even into thin air. As Gepetto watches, another flaming section of tower roof crumbles, and a soldier jumps out of the way just in time as it crashes onto the beach.
Gepetto returns to the pool, a little ways inside the border of jungle, and reports what he saw. The rest of you have discovered that the river water tastes fine, there are fish swimming around in there, and the jungle is full of coconuts and fruit trees. Food should not be a problem for the moment. You snack on coconuts and mangoes and urgently discuss your course of action.
You still have your cooking implements, your high-quality but soggy women's clothes, and some excellent weapons. Bombor carries a mace, Dane a scimitar he whirls absentmindedly, Heflam hefts his axe, and Gepetto picks through the inevitably crooked twigs on the jungle floor in mounting disgust with their unsuitability as arrow shafts. He grumbles something about the odds of success in whacking imperial legionnaires with an unstrung bow.
It's late afternoon. There is a narrow dirt path that parallels the river as it heads directly into the jungle in one direction, and out towards the beach in the other.
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Dane wanders off into the jungle.
“Dane?”
“Back forthwith fellow. Not to worry.” And he disappears.
“Ok.” I say to the rest, “We have two choices. Try to somehow get on that ship I saw in the distance or head inland to the structures we saw before. I don’t like Imperials and I don’t think our chances are good with the beach or the boat, so I vote for heading inland, and by vote… I mean that is what I’m doing no matter what you poofters decide.”
I don’t know if I mean that. I can’t fight. I’d probably die if I met some sort of threat alone… but I’ve learned that a little confidence usually carries a lot of weight and I am genuinely scared of the Imperials. I’ve seen them conscript anyone they run across for slave labor without regard for their well being.
“How do you know the structures inland don’t hold a greater th-th-threat” Twix opines.
“I don’t. I’m working off what I know. And I know Imperial soldiers are bastards.”
“Sounds good to me” chimes in Bombor, “I’m with Gepetto.”
I’m surprised. He has been strangely neutral on most issues so far. Hearing him express an opinion comes as something of a shock to me, judging from everyone else’s reaction… they feel the same way.
“I don’t want to walk behind Twix though. You can see through his white Mumu while it is wet. I find that unpleasant”.
The group agrees. Whichever direction we end up going, Twix will be in the back of the order.
“W-w-what about Dane? He’s naked” Twix protests.
Just then Dane re-appears from the brush. He has wrapped some leafy ivy around his midsection to hide his lacerated front and charred rear.
“Right fellows” he says with a smile of accomplishment, “Off we go then?”
He turns and heads inland.
“I don’t know much about jungles, but I do know that half the plants are tasty and the other half poisonous” say Heflam. “I’ll bet yall a ‘favor’ that Dane choose poorly.”
“I’ll take that bet. Hah!” Twix pipes in immediately.
Bombor and I say nothing and follow Dane away from the pool and on the path into the jungle, hopefully towards the structures we saw before.
'Not being a lead dog means that the view never changes.' It's one of the few things my pa said that I actually agree with. Gepetto seems to have elected himself leader of the group, and the other thugs have fallen in line. Curious, since he's no more armed than I am. Less, really, since I've got Chip with me.
The dragonet dozes on my shoulder. It's funny, but I'm not too worried about a rear attack with Chip with me. We didn't have dragons of this size back home, but from everything I've heard, they're very alert creatures. I imagine he'll know if we're being followed before anyone else does.
I get tired of watching the backsides of the others pretty quickly and redirect my attention to the path itself. It's very well tended. Narrow, but no overgrowth on it at all. It's probably used frequently by the very Imperials we're avoiding.
I don't like to admit it, but one thing I share with the tinker is a dislike of Imperials. It was the dream of every boy in my town to join the legions. All of my brothers are in the ranks, but they wouldn't take me when I applied.
'Too small', they said. 'Can't handle a weapon.'
I hear a buzzing and lift my eyes off the road. A wasp is hovering a few feet in front of me. It's not bothering me, so I ignore it. My mind drifts back to the Imperial officer who did my weapons testing. His laugh as he knocked the sparring sword out of my hand. His sneer as he pulled the helmet off my head. The way he spit when he talked. His suggestions of how I best serve the Empire with my pretty mouth instead of by force of arms.
The buzzing is louder. I look up again. There are more wasps now. Maybe a dozen, all hovering in front of me. Their sound is angry, but they're just keeping pace with me.
Chip hasn't moved, but I can feel him on my shoulder. He's tensed up, but hasn't uncoiled himself.
That was when we saw the Imperial scout. Unfortunately, it's also when he saw us.
I've never been much of a swashbuckler. Sure, I'm okay with a dagger or two, and I can more than hold my own with a short sword, but anything more than that and I might as well be swinging a broomstick with a lead sinker on the end. Why did I choose the battle axe? I suppose it felt good to posture at the moment, establish myself as the elder "master" amongst these kids and Dane. Now, of course, I regret the decision.
When that Imperial scout noticed that we had noticed him, he took off like a shot further up the path and around the bend.
"Come on!" I shouted, leading the charge. Or, at least, intending to. The dozen-plus wasp familiars in thrall to the scout immediately went to work on Bombor and Twix, both of whom started up some mad, flailing dance of swinging arms and screaming. Gepetto - unarmed, save for his arrow heads - sprinted past me in gleeful pursuit of the scout. Dane followed, his scimitar raised barbarically overhead with two hands, an a-tunal cry coming from his gaping mouth.
For a long moment I stood frozen on the path, torn between joining the pursuit and trying to find a way to help the others. As will happen if one waits to long for anything, the choice was ultimately made for me. Chirp finally decided to jump to action, swooping all around Twix and Bombor - and knocking the wasps out of the air one by one with short, precise blasts of flame. When the last bug had finally hit the dirt, my chest puffed up yet again.
"Let's go!"
The three of us - all right, four counting the lizard - caught up with the others not far around the bend. Gepetto had tackled the scout to the ground. Seemed an even match; they rolled over and over and over. Dane stood above them, sword raised high, mouth still agape, foliage loin cloth slipping in an unappealing fashion. Bombor strode over confidently enough, waited for Gepetto to be on the losing side yet again, and calmly bopped the scout on the back of his head with the butt of his mace. Gepetto let out a wheeze as the unconscious body fell limp upon him.
We all looked to Bombor, who hefted his weapon back to its resting place against his shoulder. Dane noted and adjusted his leaves.
"Get 'im off. Get 'im off!" Gepetto wriggled out from under the motionless scout. I offered him my hand and pulled him to his feet - just as the others were upon us.
Light Infantry by the looks of them. Roughly a dozen men. Armed, yet somewhat wary. They fanned out slowly, looking to make the most of the narrow path.
Dane, Bombor, and I readied our weapons. Twix struck some kind of mage pose. And Gepetto.... Well, he was his usual self.
Now, my axe is lodged in the trunk of a great palm where my wild swing left it. I trudge along beside Dane, our wrists bound behind us and together, making forward motion that much more difficult. And that soldier behind us keeps whacking us in the back. I might need to kill him when this is done.
Twix and Bombor are likewise bonded a few paces ahead of us. Their guard also totes a canvas sack that pulsates randomly from within. We'll see how long that holds an actual dragon.
The other weapons have been confiscated by the detachment. They couldn't dislodge my axe.
Oh, and Gepetto? He fought the good fight. I'll remember him for that.
The soldiers knocked him out without too much difficulty. At least they had the decency to bring him along and not leave him there with my axe. A couple of the troops tied rope to his ankles and drag him along behind us. When he awakes he will so not be happy.
Dane
"Things are falling apart faster than they normally do." I think to myself.
I take stock of our assets and liabilities. Liabilities first:
- We have no idea as to where we are.
- We had been captured, were tied up and being force marched.
- We are mostly naked, and the surviving clothing caused derision on the part of our captors. Even my highly aesthetic waist-laurel was gone and seemed to have left blisters in its wake.
- We are responsible for a non-combatant, (I glance at Twix and wince), and a reckless lunatic, (Gepetto's head bounced on another rock).
- This would actually be a nice hike, if Heflam and I had not been forced to pull Gepetto with our raw, bound wrists.
"Ok... assets." I say to myself.
- Three fighting men
- A gods damned dragon
- We are being marched as a group
- Above all - knowledge. The men who had captured them were fools. Thinking that cross-dressing convicts were not worthy of thought. They had been talking about their plans to sacrifice us to "Malthus", thus gaining control of "The Smith".
I grin and wait for a chance. After an admittedly grueling climb we crested what I had thought to be a ridgeline. It turns out to be an escarpment with a sheer drop on the far side. The trail picked its way over the lip and etched a diagonal down the cliff.
"We have them by the short hair," I chuckle to myself.
"Huh?” panted Heflam.
In response, I slip my hands from the knot holding the three of us. I swivel, plant a foot on Gepetto's stomach and leap at the three infantrymen pulling up the rear. The first soldier I simply push. He is too surprised to say anything as he sails thirty paces to the river at the foot of the cliff. The second infantryman had the bad idea of storing his sword inside his pack and has the extremely bad idea of trying to get to it. I ram his head into the cliff and he sags to the trail. The third infantryman is obviously a seasoned veteran and lunges with his sword the instant his compatriot's body ceases to block the attack.
It is a powerful thrust - the steep decline making it more powerful than the veteran realizes. I step aside and allow his body to continue, merely tripping and pushing him slightly. The veteran lands hard and scrabbles over the edge, just managing to grab Gepetto's hand on the way down.
My kick to his stomach had apparently awakened Gepetto and he is retching when his hand, then body, then legs go over the edge. Heflam has almost freed his wrists but now the combined wieght wrenches him to the ground and he is pulled into a large, jagged rock on the edge of the trail.
Beyond Heflam, I see Bombor swinging a tree limb menacingly at the seven Imperials down the trail. Twix hurls a rock with all his might and it lobs gently into the eye of the nearest soldier. He squawks, slips and falls moaning into the abyss.
"What do you think of my pretty mouth now?" Twix screams after him.
All action pauses and all heads - friend and foe alike - turn to Twix in inquisitive disbelief. Did he really just say that?
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