Challenge #02003-E179: Adventure is Out There
“I hate you.”
“You just saved my life! Plus, we both know you adore me.”
“Well, finding someone else to hate is too much work.”
“And risking your own life to save me wasn’t?”
“See? This is why I hate you. Nitpicking, and ungrateful.” -- Spotted
Everyone has heard of the Fisher King. Very few have heard of the Adventurer King, the one who decided to help his Kingdom by personally fighting the problems that plagued it. Unfortunately for Sir Dravyn, he is one who definitely has heard of the Adventurer King. Because he's the one who has to save that highborn ass on a regular basis.
Though the boy who was still King was growing into a man, he was evidently not growing into one with much in the way of sense. His cohort of ragtag adventurers didn't quite believe that he was King of the Realm. They didn't truly understand that Sir Dravyn was Oath-sworn to follow and protect and obey his King. Half of them didn't believe he was actually the King. In spite of meeting him on the throne and in his official robes of state.
Right now, though, it was hard to believe that His Majesty was intelligent life. He had, after all, got his butt handed to him by a Dragon he had attempted to charm, pickpocket, and then seduce. He was, frankly, lucky to still be alive. Most of that was due to the Cleric, Thanryl. Who had taken a very unfortunate vow of honesty.
The King opened his eyes and tried his most winning smile on her.
"I hate you," she said.
“You just saved my life! Plus, we both know you adore me.”
“Well," she allowed, "finding someone else to hate is too much work.”
“And risking your own life to save me wasn’t?”
“See? This is why I hate you. Nitpicking and ungrateful.”
The way they bickered, it was expected that they'd be mashing faces by the third act. According to Sir Dravyn, it was an idiotic expectation. Thanryl was bound by her vows, just as much as Dravyn was. And life didn't come in neat acts, with breaks for the audience to visit the privy or grab some portable food.
Life was far more complicated and messy than the playwrights would have anyone believe.
"Now, now, sweet Cleric. If you truly hated me, you would have let me die."
"I swore an oath to preserve life," she said, deadpan. "Though if you prefer me to pickle you in alcohol, I could arrange it..."
"When are they gonna kiss?" whispered the Rogue, Okhni.
"Perhaps when the world freezes over," sighed Dravyn.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Zeferli]
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