Pendragons on tour in Al’Qafar

Interviewer: So, you both had a near death experience during the siege of Al Qafar.  Care to tell me how that happened?

*Lucan’s face is scrunched, at the mention of Al Qafar, as he turns from closing the doors of the small library.  He moves to join his friend, Quinn Donovan who sits next to the small log burner, nursing a rather large, dented, pewter tankard of ale.  A small Keg is not far out of reach.*

Lucan:  It was a vile and…most unfortunate experience.  One I take full responsibility for.

Quinn: *belching* Aye…you clot. All your fault.

Lucan: Yes, yes.  As it was my first time at court, Duke Wyndrake Winterhart and Mistress Culpepper were explaining the finer points of a Ritual to me.  I nodded and listened politely, whilst wistfully wishing I’d brought some Torres reserve back from El puerto del vino sagrado.  My happy trail of thoughts was rudely interrupted when the ritual taking place ended and everyone inside being struck to the floor by mage bolts.  Not wanting to get my nice clean robes dirty, I let those closest to the ritual run in and drag the ritualists out, whilst calling for healers.

Charlie, the former Queens Champion appeared shortly after, asking Wyndrake if someone could run a message back to the Harts camp.  Despite her part in my assault and reverse mugging earlier that day, I decided to step up to the mark.  Why, important news should be delivered by a Noble!

Quinn: *droopy-eyed from ale* Ponce.

Interviewer:  How did you not notice you were running into Al Qafar, it’s not exactly a small place?

Quinn: *beginning to drool* Well…nobles lead, we follow, y’see?

Lucan: Quinn is just upset that he instincts told her to follow a Noble.  She thought she was better than that.  Turns out she’s like all the other commoners –  just more drunk!

Interviewer: What happened when you passed through the gates?

*At this point in the interview, Quinn Donovan wet herself*

Lucan: Well, yes, she did that… but the Smell.  Oh Lord Pendragon, THE SMELL!  Never have I had something so foul flavour my senses.  The second sense that was assaulted was my person, being shaken like a Cream Tease Whore, by god knows what foul magic surrounds that place.  My sight was the third sense to be assailed. Dead as far as the eye could see.  I’ve not quite slept the same since.

*At this point in the interview, Quinn Donovan fell forwards, spilling her ale on my shoes. She then lay asleep on the floor*

Interviewer:  What happened then?

Lucan:  That’s sadly the bit neither of us can remember.  I remember shoving Quinn back toward the gate, shouting at her to run, not draw her swords.  Then everything went black.  Where we struck by a spell?  Wounded by the hordes of undead? Who knows?

I spoke with Wyndrake afterwards who said we simply popped back through the gates, horrified looks on our faces, before dropping to the floor.  Apparently we made quite a mess between the two of us.

Quinn: *Spluttering and grimacing* S’just awful. Awf…awful.

Interviewer: What’s stayed with you from the experience.

Quinn: *whimpering in a puddle of her own making* Bad drink…bad, bad drink.

Lucan:  A trinity.  First is the smell.  Second are the dreams.  I suspect it’s a latent effect of the magic in that place.  I hope in the months to come, they will begin to fade back to the drinking, eating and whoring that once sweetly possessed my dreams. The Third, to damn well look where I’m going.  We live and Learn I suppose!