King Me

The King of Bards

Yancey and Conner were greeted by the rest of the group, minus Faust, upon return to the camp. Adoltlin built a lovely campfire, strumming a song for Aurelia who clapped and sang along. They joined their friends at the fireside, listening quietly to the pair opposite them who, Yancey realized, were passing drink. Adoltlin, impressive in his own ways, could manage beyond all belief to keep playing AND singing while he chugged from his endless flask, passing it to Aurelia who would take her own modest sip. At this sight, Conner nudged Yancey in the side, and they placed themselves in rotation. 

Conner took a mighty gulp, handing the flask to Yancey who was already keenly aware of the beverage from a previous encounter. Pure alcohol sat within the leather-bound metal flask, and she sipped carefully at it. And yet, the burning liquid set a fire of coughs roaring from her throat, Conner and Aurelia slapping her back. Adoltlin strummed up a fresh cord, focusing his sights on Yancey, 

"Pause now, comrades, mother is here to keep wary eye, for our palaver and reek spurred by the wry is something to watch, and join in the sharing of sprites. Now come and play, come and play, come and play, all!" And then, surprising Yancey too know end, Adoltlin turned back to the demon tree, "Care for a drink?" He hollered, and the tree appeared most surprised of all.

"I am a harbinger of death. For you to waft such a question, carried even upon drunken breath it--"

Adoltlin snatched the flask from Aurelia, tossing it straight into the air towards the tree's mouth, "So kill it, then," and the flask vanished into the jaws of doom. The tree crushed the flask, chewing it around, producing a deep hum that reverberated through the area, sending flocks of birds flying out of distant trees.

It spoke, "It has been many millennia since I've partaken in the consumption of alcohol,"

Adoltlin strummed up a countering cord, "Nay, tree of death, consume you do not. Not a drop spilled, the drink so unthrilled, it was killed, was it not?"

The tree barked a laugh, "Ha! So it was. What a master of song you are, even the damned who've practiced the craft for countless millennia within the bowels of hell cannot compare,"

Adoltlin winked too the tree, and produced two more flasks. He tossed another straight into the mouth of the tree, that caught it, this time crushing it slowly like the bug. The spare he put into circulation. "Now as everyone knows, singin' is grand, but begins to expire, when one hogs the stand. So now I pass the song to the next, for Yancey, our mother, so sing us to rest," And with that, he handed her the mini guitar. Yancey only knew the other song he'd taught her, but with the screaming of her sickle, she strummed something new.

"In the depths that rest beneath foot, beneath suffering and pain, and the world we knew, came a new version of me, and you, you," Yancey strummed, glancing between her companions. It wasn't a good tune; not as Adoltlins. But it was hers, and, before she came here, it was more than she ever dreamed herself capable of, "We adapted, and we've changed, and our tears have watered our growth. Yet here we sit, the resting upon a road that still stretches, brining forth anger, and pain, and countless more wretches. But ready we are, to greet and defeat, for a game I thought it was, and yet perfection assembled."

The cabin door slammed open, and Yancey halted her playing with a scream. Her eyes flashed to the door, assuming their foes were descending, and yet only Faust stood there. His black plague doctor-esque duster seemed to twist in a wind, and yet none blew through the area. His eyes, squinted in anger, foncused on Yancey. "Cease your damned yapping," He commanded, and Yancey nodded, returning Adoltlin's guitar too him, and headed for her cabin. And yet, Adoltlin spoke,

"Care to make a wager, Faust?" Adoltlin called, and Yancey froze with disbelief. She glanced back, noticing the entire party was surprised at this, including Faust, who waved a hand for him to continue.