WarDrac in town

[DoS Archive]

From: baphthewardrac@aol.com (Baph the WarDrac)
Date: 28 Nov 1999 13:59:46 EST

The WarDrac of RhyDin stood down in the basement of the Red Dragon Inn amongst its catacomb cavernous dueling hall. Looking around he noticed how desolate and mostly quiet it was. A few of the serving lads were running some chores restocking from the weekend dueling preparing for the upcoming
tourney on the morrow. A few odd patrons he didn't recognizee were doing their own business in the dueling hall as well. Not much had changed in the time he had been mostly gone except for occasional visits to get a quick fix. A few more new banners on the South Wall for those who had ascended to the titles. Someone had done some remodeling and the place looked like it had gone through a recent good thorough cleaning. Except you couldn't miss
the tinge of salty sweaty blood aroma from years of dueling soaked into the cavern floor. A slight dagger long fanged grin crossed the draconian's features. He had missed the place some.

As usual, the ghosts of memories past seem to cloud his vision as he remembered various nights of dueling. From previous tourneys, challenges, and regular nights of mischief. How many times had he danced in the rings he wondered? He had to chuckle to himself remembering his infamous start in the rings, 43-117-8 record his first main cycle. Making Warlord had been such a happy accomplishment for him, he had risen above from his BINZO like
status. Back then he didn't so much care how he dueled, he knew he had respect for his skills then despite his record. It was more the joy of the dance with old comrades like Xeno, Cymranger, Amaltea, Falon, Valmion, Siera Red, Feadur, Luthien, Kalamere, and his lost defense to Kaprielle. The old basic friendly house rivalries with Darelir, Questrion, Covington, and Dragoon-Talondor(sp?-sorry), that brought mass audiences. His bejeweled orbed
eyes swirled a brilliant green in envy for past times.

Now it was he looked upon the hierarchy of the duels. The Overlord was a guy named Avery Shiv Blade, who the heck was that? He had a vague memory of some young kid he saw dueling that seemed to fit the description. At least among the barons he recognized Gnort, Rix, Simini, Topaz, Var, and Zen as older veterans of the sport. Daelin and Unagi were at least familiar names to him, and the rest of them, Damien, Marius, Zafiroo, and Zam he had never
heard of. He noticed for this tourney one of the prizes available was the 12th Barony. An interesting thought he considered to himself. He had already won a Barony from a tourney when he had bested Kalamere to claim Ford Prefect's old ring after he retired it. That had meant a lot to him then at the time of his history in the sport. Maybe he'd actually go for the Overlord challenge thing, Jo Kicklen had been the only one of the old House
Lathadoscia to win that prize, and he never claimed it. His spade tipped tail twitched with breathless anticipation.

He chuckled to himself catching himself in already thinking what prize he would claim. It had been ages since he had been in top dueling form because of his inactivity a lot over the last couple of years. It didn't matter he was an experienced veteran of battles both in and out of the rings. A few swings of the ole Scepter of Baphelocutis and he would be back in the groove. He came back for the tourney because he loved the thrill of competition
more than anything. He didn't care who he faced, who he would have to get through, he just wanted to prove his might with the blade. Maybe, if he was lucky he would remind a few old, or educate a few new duelers his skills in the ring. Only winning the tourney would prove such currently. He had to settle down and fold back his leathery wings as he became to become excited at the prospects of the morrow would bring.