ID July 2010 - Ice Dragon

The Chronicals of Brother Thadeuss Continued
It was well past “Midnight Madness” and heading
into the “Pre Dawn Nervous Breakdown”. The merchants
were all in their tents and their goods safely covered
for the night and the last of the evening’s drunks
had collapsed somewhere in alcohol induced comas.
The occasional promiscuous Lord or Lady has scrambled
into the night with barely fastened garments in
disarray, inside out, or backwards hoping to keep their
identity hidden from their inebriated influenced bad
choice. I was wandering as I often being ever vigilant
against impending doom and its many personas when I
heard the most beautiful tenor singing a song of home.
There in a small clearing near the merchant’s area I
found a small fire, with an average looking man, wearing
simple yet exceptionally elegant Viking garb. He
sat on an upturned tree stump with a great drinking
horn in his hand. His heavy boots planted into the
ground on either side of the stump, the air filled with
his beautiful song from his lips and the smell of great
ale from his vessel.
When he finished I applauded. He barely seemed startled
but I can tell he was unaware of me up until I
clapped. “Such a beautiful song,” I said. “It sounds so
familiar but I am most certain have never heard it before.”
He nodded with a grin. “I apologize for entering
you camp unannounced, but the song was to vexing.”
He thanked me and motioned towards another stump
for me to join him. I nodded graciously and made my
way to the other side of the fire to take my seat. As I
did so he searched the top of his boot until he found a
pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He offered generously
but I motioned politely against with a wave of my
hand.
“What was that song?” I asked.
He inhaled deeply for more than was probably necessary.
“A simple song from home” he answered.
“A beautiful song indeed,” I said. “You must come
from a beautiful place for the lyrics were truly complimentary.
Where is that you call home?”
The Chronicals of Brother Thadeuss Continued
Without answering he merely passed a jug to me.
“There’s a cup by your feet,” he said. “Feel free to
pour a drink from the jug.” I did and the heavenly
smell of this home brew was a shear delight. Where
he was from now seemed less important than the
tasty beverage in my hands. I asked if he would sing
another song, but he declined politely as he didn’t like
to sing and smoke at the same time but that he did
like to recite poetry while smoking, as it seemed more
appropriate. He stood up and began to recite a
lengthy yet entertaining epic poem. Much like the
song, I had never heard it before. It seemed familiar
but just different enough not to recognize it. His voice
rolled and intonated each word with dramatic flare
stopping to smoke in surprisingly appropriate moments
like well timed dramatic pauses with special
smoke effects.
When he was done I applauded. He bowed politely
and then retook his seat to lift his horn to his lips for a
well-earned quaff of ale. It was then that epiphany
struck me like a Duke.
“Lord Bard, I am Brother Thaddeus of the Sacred Order
of the Impending Doom and I know you better
than any other for I know your secret. I have met you
or witnessed your deeds a thousand times and it wasn’t
until now that I realized that all of those people
were in fact you. A thousand personas for one brilliant
man”
“Brother Thaddeus, “ he laughed, “Is the ale to strong
for you. That is quite a tale. Are you drunk or merely
playing a joke on your poor host.”
“Neither my good host, “I said. “I am most certain
that I am right and your subtle change of expression
gives me further proof I am correct. The untrained eye
would not have
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