3.15 On The Channel Druia
Location: On the Drommond, on the Channel Druia

Hläng looked down into the churning waters of the channel of Druia as the dromond made its way south through its waves.

"Hräsh, let's go for a swim. It's hot out today."

Hräsh shook his head. "No Hläng, we shouldn't," he said, then continued quickly to pre-empt Hläng's complaint, "I don't want to work in wet clothes all day. Besides, we won't keep up with the boats in this wind."

Hläng picked at the rigging he was using to steady himself as the dromond worked through the waves.



"Maybe we should go see Dror. We had lots of fun last time he was around."

Hräsh sighed. "No, we shouldn't. He doesn't need us to bother him."

Hläng forrowed his brow. "Why would it bother him? He came to see us, didn't he?"

Hräsh shrugged his shoulder. After a pause he answered, "We talked to him twice today; that's enough."

"You didn't answer my question.."

Hräsh frowned, acknowledging to himself, almost proudly that Hläng has been getting smarter these days.

"He doesn't bother us when he comes to see us," Hläng reasons.

"No," Hräsh admits, "but, we don't want to seem too eagre."

"But… I want to talk to him. Why can't I be eagre?"

"You shouldn't be."

"Should not! Should not! Should not!" Hläng shouts exasperatedly. "That's all you say. I should call you 'Should Not'. It should be your name. 'Should Not and Hläng'. 'Hello, I'm Hläng, this is Should Not.'"

Hräsh growls, "it's strange, that's all, it's just strange!"

"Hräsh, we have two heads!"

Yup, Hräsh thought, too smart.

"Hräsh, it's just… " Hläng sighed. "Hräsh?" Hläng frowned. Now Hräsh wasn't answering him. That meant he was cranky.

Hräsh was still not speaking later when they were making their bed in the cargo hold. The large hammock they had been using proved itself too feeble under the ettin's growing weight, and they were since amassing a pile of packing straw and spare blankets.

"Good evening!" came a voice from the doorway.

"Dror!" Hläng answered. How is it?

"It's a fine evening! And how are yours?" He asked.

Hräsh grunted. Hläng mouthed, "we're not talking to each other right now," behind the palm of his hand. Hräsh rolled his eyes.

Dror just raised his eyebrows, "I see. Well, I brought you some more rum. Maybe this'll liven your spirits."

HräshHläng sat on his blankets, and Hläng thanked Dror, accepting the rum.

"So," Dror continued, "tell me of these dragons. You've slain them both, eh?"

"Three," Hläng corrected, passing the bottle of rum to Hräsh after taking a gulp himself, "there was a younger black dragon with the first. We didn't slay them alone, ourselves. Actually, we had little to do with the fire dragon. The most we managed to do was distract her a moment while Starr charged her."

"Still, that's quite an accomplishment, this dragon-slaying. It takes quite a lot of bravery to fave one, let alone three," Dror responded. "A toast, then, to courage," he said, lifting his bottle. Hräsh and Hläng took turns drinking, though Hläng found he emptied it with his. Dror passed him a new one. "What's this business now, with these lizardfolk to the south?"

"We're not sure ourselves," Hräsh finally added, "I've never seen them before, but if they will ally with us against the Ludimarites, then we may be able to drive them out of Echer."

"And victory in Echer may lead to victories elsewhere?" Dror asked.

"Aye, that's the hope, I guess," Hräsh answered, "though, I'm keen to return to Sáregris and help take back Dachoen, when the time comes."

"Me too," added Hläng.

Dror nodded his head silently. He glanced at the lantern on the crate next to him, almost out of oil. "Well, I suppose it's time to get some rest," he said.

"Yeah," Hläng said as they stood to prepare for bed.

HräshHläng: Chris

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