"T.of Margaret(1)" by MapleMabari

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Loud laughs and the faint echo of a happy, fast tuned music could be heard in the small street right outside the tavern. A ray of light filtered through the closed curtains and under the door, as the smell of roasting meat and strong ales

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could reach the nose of our traveller. A small smile made its way to her face as Margaret pulled her hood down, holding her cloak closer around her as the cold bit at her skin, making her shiver a little.

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Finally, she had made it back to a town. The music and loud chatter from the tavern flooded the street for the small time it took her to push the heavy door open. It hadn't been oiled in a while accordingly to the creaking sound it made.

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The young lady walked straight to the bar area of the pub, finding a nice stool and letting herself drop on it before asking for a drink. The Barmaid, a middle aged, lean lady, didn't pay her much attention after giving her what she ordered,

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which was a bit of a problem.

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Margaret had, after all, just been on an epic adventure, and she needed to tell someone about it all. She felt a nudge against her leg, before feeling a warm, wet weight on her thigh, making her cringe just a little.

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Her huge war hound, Knight, was sitting at her feet while propping his head up on her lap, giving her one of his pleading looks while wagging his tail. Apparently, the beast was hungry. She gave him a small smile before patting his big head,

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giving him a scratch behind the ears, before hailing the barmaid once more, asking for a meal. Margaret herself was hungry as well after a day out in the wild.She was starting to feel good now, the cold leaving her body to be replaced by a comfortable,

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fuzzy warm feeling. She glanced toward the big chimney fire, thankful it was there, noticing the meat roasting there. Knight and her would have a real feast tonight.

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Next to her was a group of men who looked like they were adventurers as well. She pushed back her dark green cloak, untucking her dark red hair from under it to have them fall around her shoulders nicely, giving them a smile.

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If there was one thing she'd learned during her year on the roads, it was that men would listen to her as long as she flaunted the fact she was a lady and gave them a bit of a smile. The redhead really only needed some public to listen to her tales there.

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One of the men did notice her somehow, and started some small talk with her. All was going accordingly to her plans really.

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After a small while of discussing things like her name, the weather, and wether she was free tonight or not, she finally got to launch in her epic tale. It took a while really.

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"So I was in the Red Marshes, You know those swamps that are rumored to be filled with ghosts and drakes? Well yeah. I was there."

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hat alone was already quite something, since a lot of people actively avoided it; the name came from a very bloody battle during an old war after all, and everyone knew very bloody battles during an old war led to lots of ghosts roaming around the area.

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Anyone with a bit of common sense would simply not set foot there. Especially if the place was a swamp, where there weren't a lot of things of interest for common people.

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The group of men now were looking at her silently, small smiles on their faces, one of them raising an eyebrow at her in disbelief.
"As I was making my way in there, looking for lost treasures from the old wars, I heard a deafening scream."

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"Yet you still seem to be able to hear us."
One of the men, a tall bearded one with a missing leg mockingly interrupted her. Her epic tale now had a bit of a following, as five to six people around the bar were silently listening to her.

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"It's a figure of speech, obviously."
She said that with a bit of a sneer, looking at him like he was pretty dumb and underneath her. The only reaction she got out of it was a bit of a laugh.

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"Anyways. I hear this scream, this roar, and turn around just in time to see a drake coming at me!"

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This time nobody interrupted her, that tale was too good to pass up on. It was obvious to the men there that little lady couldn't possibly take down a drake.

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While they aren't quite as scary as full out dragons, drakes are still creatures to fear; the big scally beasts have after all very powerful jaws and claws as sharp as knives.

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They also tend to spit out powerful acids or poisons, and have very little weak points. The only place their scale armor may be broken through (with some force mind you)is right behind their head,

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unless a previous adventurer managed to weaken their defenses by removing some scales.

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The fact the young adventurer was still alive yet claimed to have faced a drake, when she was a petite woman alone with her dog, was pretty damn funny to the team of more seasoned adventurers.

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Pleased with the lack of interruption, Margaret smiled a little before continuing, her hands moving to emphasize what she said.

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"It was huge, a dark green color that merged with the color of the water and vegetation in the marsh. Its beady eyes staring me down as its tongue slipped in and out of its disgusting, venom filled mouth."

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If anything she knew how to tell a story nicely, even though her odd way of explaining it instead of simply stating fact wasn't exactly sailing well with her public.
"Yeah yeah we know, now do tell us how a shrimp like you survived this encounter?"

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The tone was again a mocking one, the man who spoke rolling his eyes under his bushy brown eyebrows. It was fascinating how someone with so little hair on his head had so much over his eyes, but that thought was quickly pushed away by the young lady.

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"Let me talk if you want me to finish the tale!"
They didn't care much for the tale, instead prefering the entertainment heckling her provided them, though none of them voiced that.

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After a sigh and a bit of a glare toward the eyebrows-man, margaret went on."As soon as I saw it, I leaped to the side, taking out my bow. Knight here-" At that she gave the dog a pat on the head, answered by a happy bark,

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"Jumped at the drake. The beast was so stunned by how fast we were my dog managed to pin it down, giving me the time to jump around it and shoot right at the base of its neck."

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She looked oh so proud of herself at that, straightening her back a little. The small crowd she'd gather stared at her in silence, most of them wearing a smile, before one of them burst out laughing, soon followed by the others.

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At that she squinted her eyes a little as she gave them the biggest glare she could muster, her lips turning down in a frown that made her look like she was pouting.
"What is so funny?!"

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Her voice was harsh, raising up a little at the end of the sentence, as her dog sat in between her and the men now, looking a bit more intimidating than when he acted like a happy puppy.

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That didn't seem to bother three of the most burly men there though, even if the others backed off a bit. The lady wasn't scary, but a big pissed off warhound could give you quite a few wounds, if not worse.

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The leader of the heckler, the bald man with bushy eyebrows, spoke again, not about to be intimidated by a dog.
"You are. Claiming you killed a drake like it was easy. We all know it's a lie."

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She got a little flustered at that, glaring all the harder at him as her dog started growling a little, apparently smart enough to understand the situation.
"I did not!"

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The men shook their head while laughing before backing off, not wanting to risk a bite.
"yeah yeah whatever! Enjoy your little lie, you're not getting any more attention from us."

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With that they turned away from her, not engaging her anymore as she went back to her dish while brooding. She did lie about the drake, sort of. She did kill it, she even got some loot to prove it.

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The only thing that wasn't right in the story was how she killed it. First of all, she didn't go in the marshes willingly. As a matter of fact, she'd fallen off a cliff not far, right into the water,

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after stepping on a rock that rolled off from under her foot. How she survived the fall without much more than a few scratches, she didn't know, but she did it anyways. After managing to get out of the small pool of water she fell in,

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Margaret had looked around to see if her dog was anywhere near her. That was when she saw it. Big and scary, exactly like she described it. Except the fight didn't go quite the same.

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Somehow in her attempt to step back, she managed to catch her feet in the roots there. Her struggle to stay up didn't pay off as she fell in front of her in a useless attempt to catch her footings, right on the beast's face.

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