Life from the Petri Dish

Apologies

Sun, 14 Nov 2004 05:40:57 GMT

Sorry About the story..

It needs serious re-tuning.

Look forward to a completely re edited shot story sometime between "shortly" and the "distant future".

Later,

Jazzman

Chapter One: A Dragon Knight

Sun, 19 Sep 2004 22:42:42 GMT

...“Give it a rest, thug. Some of us are trying to eat in peace.” The man turned towards my bar stool and looked fierce with his reply, “You ain’t enjoying it anyway.”

“You say it is so, slayer?” I asked, “What name do you hail?”

“What does an elegant spoken lady find in such a place?”

“Company.”

The thief smiled at this. He turned back to find that the barmaid had returned to work. He lost any chance of making it with her and with a new found availability for company looked over at me. He walked up to the bar and sat down on the stool next to mine.

“Any good food here, Bernie?” The man behind the bar looked up from the mug he was wiping with his towel, “Nope, and the name’s Geoff, mate.”

“Whatever. Lunch special, please.”

“You’ll ain’t enjoy it,” I mocked without talking my eyes off my own plate. The thief laughed. I asked again, “What name do you hail?”

“I have no name to hail from. Call me Red if you wish.” I looked over at him. He wore an old shirt with a slightly tattered vest. His pants were belted with a sash. Tucked in the sash he kept his dagger. His jet black hair was contained in a bandana so that only a few strands escaped. I asked, “Why Red, slayer?”

“Why not? So, what shall I call you, my lady?”

“I am Janya, of the house of Berduma,” I said, “I kill dragons.” Red blinked. “Surprised?” I continued, “First of my kind you have seen, I assume.”

A sly grin crept across Red’s face. He spoke, “So you caught my...”

“Pathetic attempt to impress a barmaid into your pants.” I provided.

“...embellishment of the tru...”

“Or was it not your intent to merely pocket her earnings and tips?” I got up from my place at the bar and headed towards the door. “Goodbye thief.”

As I extended both arms to hold open the double doors I stopped. Behind me Red commented to the bartender, “Ain’t she the specimen, huh Bernie?”

“That’s Geoff, mate.”

“Whatever. Hey, wait up there Janya,” he called scrambling off the barstool. I stepped out onto the cobble stones of the busy market square and let the heavy wooden doors of Bernard’s Pub slam behind me with a thud.

Prologue: Janya’s Lament

Sun, 19 Sep 2004 03:54:07 GMT

Sitting here in this dusty bar, the midday sun straggles its way through the stained over glass windows, I think to my self where it all went wrong. Contemplating, I realize in this life those certain things one cannot escape are often also a kin to those things which are out side our boundaries.

I take a sip from my mug to wash down the disagreeable taste of lunch special. I grin as recall my first bite. It is funny how a revolting flavor turns to merely disagreeable over time. Choking on thick blue clouds of pub air fades from inhabiting to comforting. I feel calm among men’s cursing and the occasional crack of a fresh billiards game.

Bernard’s Pub is the scent of Lyndton. It is also, to the best of my reasoning, where things went awry. It was here that I met him. I knew his type, even then. He was a thief. He was also quite handsome. Wasting no time in aquainting himself with a barmaid, he smiled and asked her if she ever met a dragon slayer before.

I took another sip of my beer and muttered to myself...