Time to begin a new chapter! Nice work on the first one, all of you. I'll get to work editing it soon.
”Can you outrun a horse?” asked Alvis as he scanned the southern horizon.
“Have you gone completely daft?” replied Haj.
“You’ll have to admit it would be a help right now, though.”
“By Belal, you really have lost your mind.”
“Absolutely not. What makes you suggest such a thing?”
“Do I look like a horse to you?”
“Stop flattering yourself. We’ve two thieves to roast over a slow fire.”
Haj cursed, and muttered a few choice things concerning his companion’s heritage. “Where’s your horse?” he asked.
“Where’s your horse?” riposted Alvis.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Stop being such a nay-sayer. I think I saw a horse merchant down the street from the tavern.”
“Have any money, do you? She pickpocketted my money, along with the pebble.”
“I’ve a few crowns left.”
“From what?”
“Sold off my grandmother.”
After several years of travelling with his peculiar-at-best companion, this particular comment warranted only a shrug.
“Is it just me, or was this day oddly short?” mused Alvis as they started to make their way back into Falle, the sun setting beyond the western mountains.
“Moody gods,” reasoned Haj.
“I suppose you’re right.”
The Sickly Green Dragon still stood, despite its drunken patronage best efforts. Alvis had been more or less right, there was in fact a horse merchant a few houses down from the tavern. However, upon further, more thorough examination it appeared that he had gotten a few key elements wrong.
“A donkey is not a horse!” an angry voice yelled from inside the shop.
“Stop being such a snob!” replied another voice.
“We can’t bloody well outrun a horse on a bloody donkey!”
“Don’t worry, they’ve asses here, too.”
“Why!”
CHAPTER 2
”Can you outrun a horse?” asked Alvis as he scanned the southern horizon.
“Have you gone completely daft?” replied Haj.
“You’ll have to admit it would be a help right now, though.”
“By Belal, you really have lost your mind.”
“Absolutely not. What makes you suggest such a thing?”
“Do I look like a horse to you?”
“Stop flattering yourself. We’ve two thieves to roast over a slow fire.”
Haj cursed, and muttered a few choice things concerning his companion’s heritage. “Where’s your horse?” he asked.
“Where’s your horse?” riposted Alvis.
“I don’t believe it!”
“Stop being such a nay-sayer. I think I saw a horse merchant down the street from the tavern.”
“Have any money, do you? She pickpocketted my money, along with the pebble.”
“I’ve a few crowns left.”
“From what?”
“Sold off my grandmother.”
After several years of travelling with his peculiar-at-best companion, this particular comment warranted only a shrug.
“Is it just me, or was this day oddly short?” mused Alvis as they started to make their way back into Falle, the sun setting beyond the western mountains.
“Moody gods,” reasoned Haj.
“I suppose you’re right.”
###
The Sickly Green Dragon still stood, despite its drunken patronage best efforts. Alvis had been more or less right, there was in fact a horse merchant a few houses down from the tavern. However, upon further, more thorough examination it appeared that he had gotten a few key elements wrong.
“A donkey is not a horse!” an angry voice yelled from inside the shop.
“Stop being such a snob!” replied another voice.
“We can’t bloody well outrun a horse on a bloody donkey!”
“Don’t worry, they’ve asses here, too.”
“Why!”