Welcome to the world of quest keepers. Are you sick of unlikely heroes taking all the glory and saving the day? Do you long for something other than prophecies and magic and adventure?
Well then, look no further. For this is a book of unlikely he...
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Gorth joined us in Mytha's tent. He looked frazzled and scared. "Oh Gorth," I thought, "if a little capture makes you this nervous, how in the world are you going to be able to face a dragon without jumping out of your skin?"
"And you must be a client, what kind of hero are you? I mean no offense but I think you might fall a bit short of your quest." She was referring to Gorth's height disadvantage.
"Really D, your career really is going places isn't it?" Mytha's sarcasm crashed over her words.
"Excuse me, but I am a Prince of the Hedlands." Gorth said. He said that a lot.
"And I am Mynthray the Highwaywoman" She snapped back without so much as moving a muscle.
"Oh", Gorth cowered, literally. His face dropped, I could tell he was remembering all the old stories of Mynthray's horrors. How she had cut the fingers off a woman and worn them as a necklace.
I was so mad that I had failed already. I should have tried to forewarn him. When we were on our lizardlungues, instead of telling stories and playing games, I could have done my job. I could have said something like...
"Now Gorth, in the event we get captured, it's very important you show no signs of fear. No matter your foe, just be brave. It really doesn't matter how you feel on the in inside, but whoever you're faced with just put on a brave face, look sullen, talk as little as possible. It will do wonders."
But I didn't say that. And now Gorth just shook in his boots, faced with the dangerous Mynthray. She smiled. "Oh, D" she said, "You sure can pick them."
"How about some food?" I said.
I was starving. I'm sure Gorth was too and Mytha was always up for food. Mytha gestured to the half bull and he stomped out, presumably to get something to eat.
Mytha was beautiful, I had to give her that. Her unruly, curly hair glimmered in the firelight, intoxicating and deceiving. I had seen her in action, she could be deadly and dead mean, deadly brutal and dead ugly. But in her tent, with her guard down she moved like a graceful courtesan.
She was sitting on the floor, with her arms draped over a few cushions that were piled up. She held her gaze on Gorth. Looking him over none too kindly.
The Tauran, Mr half a horn, walked in carrying a couple dishes of meat and something that might have once been a potato in a former life. So, she was on hard times. That was good to know. That meant I had something she wanted, and she was struggling.
Gorth looked at his food, his hands, the tent, the fire, everything but me and my ex-client.
"So did D not tell you that we worked together?" Mytha asked.
"We didn't really have time" I replied saving Gorth any embarrassment of trying to talk through whatever he was feeling.
"So, what's your quest Mytha?" I asked. Gorth turned to me then. I knew the rules and I could imagine what was going through his mind.
