The Beginning

[Perched on the edge of the chair, Frenetic leans forward and blows a
puff of smoke into the air.  The smoke rolls lazily across the stairs
ascending the path to Castle Britain's throne, enshrouding two human
forms who cough politely.  The dragon ignores their discomfort,
swiping a small sceptre from the confines of the seat as he looks to
the stained windows that line the chamber.]

Okay gentlemen, let's get down to business.

[Rolling his eyes as he says "business," Frenetic sits back in the
chair.]

First thing's first.  What, precisely, are the two of you doing in my
home?

[The first man, a slightly overweight individual with spectacles,
whispers "oh" and stammers for a moment.]

Well, s ... s,sir, we were ... we ... that is to say, myself and this
paladin here were ... well, Roc and I were sent to ... I mean ...

[The second human, a broad-shouldered fellow with arms that look
strong enough to strangle wyverns, claps the first on the shoulder.]

My friend Dennis here is trying to say that we were sent by the
townspeople to speak with you.

[Frenetic's eyes focus on the warrior.]

You mean you're supposed to negotiate?  

[Roc salutes smartly.]

Sir, yes, we are here to negotiate with you, for the terms as they
were given to us by the townspeople of the greater regions of the
lower Britannian valley, amassed together in the spirit of goodwill
and happiness that is common for the lands of Sosaria.

[Frenetic licks his lips.]

Let me try that again.  You mean, you're supposed to negotiate?

<blink>

With me?

[Roc nods slowly.]

Yes, I believe that was the idea.

[Frenetic shrugs and holds the sceptre just close enough to tap Roc on
the shoulder.]

You ... <tap> ... were sent here ... <tap> ... are you sure it wasn't
a mistake? <tap> Sure you weren't sent out for cinnabons? <tap> 
Maybe your friends were just too drunk to realize what they were
asking of you.  You think that's ... <tap> ... possible?

[Shifting his weight, Roc huffs.]

Sir, we were sent to negotiate with you.

[Frenetic looks up toward the ceiling and feigns contemplation.]

So you guys are supposed to negotiate for what, exactly?

[Dennis, having regained his composure, pushes Roc aside as he takes a
step toward the dragon.]

We're here to request our freedom!

[Frenetic glares; Dennis skitters back behind Roc as the sceptre
swipes the air where he stood.  Pulling his head to one side, Frenetic
draws the sceptre against the floor.]

Next time, I smack you harder than an invincible Valorean daemon.

<titter>

Let's try this again.  You guys know the drill?

[Roc looks at a small slip of paper in his hand, reading over it as he
gives a thumbs-up sign to the dragon.  Frenetic sniffs and motions for
him to come forward.]

Okay, let's hear it.

[Roc reads the paper again, and looks up.]

Do I really have to say all of this?

[Frenetic grips the sceptre tightly; a ball of electricity flares up
around the wand, sending sparks into the air as energy pulses through
it.  Roc wrings the paper in one hand and bows as quickly as he can.]

My apologies.

[Frenetic sighs and waves a claw at the knight.]

Go on, go on.  Give it your best shot.

[Roc whimpers as the sceptre loses its charge, and tries to read the
paper in his hands.  Frenetic mutters something about children and
taps Roc on the chest with a foreclaw.]

If you want to walk away, you'd better do it.

[Roc steadies himself, and takes two steps up toward the throne.
Stopping on the second stair, he leans forward and speaks.]

You remind me ... of the bard

[Frenetic plays his part, looking astonished.]

The bard?

[Roc looks at the paper and then back to Frenetic.]

The bard with the power.

[Frenetic acts mortified.]

The power?

[Roc pauses, reads for a moment, and continues.]

The power of arrows.

[Now reading the inscription scrawled over the length of the sceptre,
Frenetic speaks nonchalantly without giving Roc a single look.]

Which go?

[Roc wipes his brow.]

Below.

[Frenetic studies the sceptre closely, ignoring Roc completely as he
speaks.]

Below what?

[Roc beams, putting the paper down as he finishes with a flourish.]

Below the backside of the bard!

[Clearly entertained, Frenetic applauds loudly and motions Roc
forward.  Breathing a sigh of relief, Roc steps up onto the third
stair.  Frenetic stops him with a wave of the sceptre, and then smirks
as he bellows out his next command.]

Now ... dance for me.

[Roc grimaces, trying not to break down as the dragon cackles madly.
He holds a claw up to Roc, drawing it softly across the human's neck.]

Come come, now.  Dance for me.

[Roc draws his hands together.]

Please, sir, I cannot dance ... I am a knight ... I can fight, but-

[Placing a hand over Roc's mouth, Frenetic grins and speaks.]

That's okay, Roc.  You're okay.  I don't mind the fact that you just
blatantly ignored my request.

<peer>

Do you know who they sent before you?

[Roc becomes very aware of the fact Frenetic is breathing down his
neck.  Trying not to show too much fear, he adjusts his chestplate and
looks down for a moment.]

Hmm ... was it ... uh, I think it was Sydney the baker.

[Frenetic snaps a finger; a servant dashes out of the corner with a
plate at his side.  Reaching for the platter, Frenetic looks over the
negotiator.]

That's right.  Sydney.  And do you know what happened to Sydney when
he refused to dance for me?

[Roc looks up in confusion.]

What?

[Frenetic grins, extending a foreclaw which holds a slice of bread.]

I introduced him to the culinary chance of a lifetime.

<smirk>

Try it.  It's Sydneyrrific.

[Dropping back in horror, Roc lets out a gasp.  The dragon opposite
him laughs maniacally, tossing the bread into his eager mouth as he
sits up in the chair.]

Now ...  ... unless you want to see how low I can go, I suggest
you dance.  The more your uncoordinated butt swings, the better the
chance you get to ask me to stop.


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