By: Murasaki

Chapter 6

<body>The dragon/mortal claming to be Darkon slipped through the shadows of the

night and left Camelot Reborn. He made his way into the woods and swiftly throughout

the deep, dark forest. The figure came upon Deadland, the Darkon hunting ground that

was filled with splintered trees. Thoughts fluttered through the druid’s mind. Who was

that old man who had interfered back at the battle dome? Where did he come from? The

figure kept moving, not thinking of anything except getting home. Shrieks and cries of

pain and terror called out to him. The druid ignored the ghouls and kept moving through

the night.

Once the figure was back at the Darkon castle he swiftly made his

way to the dining hall. There he hid in the shadows, watching as the Darkons ate their

dinner and threw stripped bones at one another and on the floor. Growls were shot this

way and that and angry shouts were tossed around. The druid wanted to eat, but knew

that to enter that room now, while the Darkons were eating, could prove deadly. So the

figure turned and

headed away and down the hall, keeping well hidden in the shadows. He occasionally

stopped to let one or two Darkons pass by him. They didn’t seem to notice he was even

there, either that or they were too drunk and full of food to care. The druid came upon a

door that was hidden well. He took a hold of the handle and turned it gently until he

heard a click. He then stopped only to make sure the coast was clear. He watched as a

Darkon walked into the dining hall. The dark figure then opened the door and swiftly

slipped in, closing the door behind him.

The druid swiftly made his way down a

set of wooden stairs. A single torch was mounted on the wall and gave off only enough

light to see before his face. The figure could see in the dark and had no trouble making

out the stairs. Once he was at the bottom he turned right and walked a few steps forward,

then stopped, hearing flint hit steel. A few sparks flicked before him and a small torch

flamed up. There, sitting in a chair next to a table with a plate of food on it was the

Darkon leader.

The druid’s throat went dry and he took a step back. “Red

Leader,” he began. “Shut it,” the Darkon barked. “Your dinner is cold. You were

nowhere to be found when it was warm. Where have you been, boy?” The vampire

growled deeply. The figure stuttered. “I... I was in Camelot Reborn-”

“I told you

not to leave the castle!” The Darkon leader shouted furiously as he stood, the torch in his

hand. “I told you not to leave this room when dinner time came around and to stay in the

castle at all times. I strictly forbade you to go to Camelot and deliberately defied me!”

Red Leader walked in the druid’s direction.

The figure took a step back,

cowering under his hood, afraid that the leader would lash out at him. The vampire

stopped before the cowering druid, stood still for a moment, then reached up and

mounted the torch on the wall. “You know the punishment for defying me,” Red Leader

reached up and threw the figure’s hood back. “Public exposure...”

“No!” The

druid cried out. “Please, don’t!” Red Leader would hear none of it. He grabbed the figure

by the arm and began to walk away, dragging the druid along behind him. “I was only

trying to help,” he protested. His blue hair hung on his shoulders and a small blue curl

hung down before his face. “I heard you talking to the others in the dining hall,"

“Eavesdropping as well?” Red Leader bellowed. “The punishment is public exposure and

beating!” The druid pulled his arm back stiffly. “No!” He shouted. The vampire spun, his

dark features glowering down on the figure. “You listen to me Jesture,” the figure began.

“I was only trying to help. I heard you speaking of the Coilsteemer gem and of getting it

back from Chris Ford. I wanted to help so I went to Camelot Reborn myself to gather as

much information as I could and possibly return with the pendent."

Red Leader

looked on him, anger in his eyes. This was the only one that referred to him as Jesture

anymore. The others had stopped calling him that little over twenty

years ago and given him the knick name Red Leader. He crossed his arms, still angry but

wanting to hear what the druid had found. “And what did you find?” The figure was glad

that Red Leader was willing to hear what he had to say and so the druid continued. “Chris

Ford has used the gemstone. There are many dragon/mortals in Camelot Reborn. There is

One in particular that is very special to Chris.” Still listening, Jesture glared. “His name

is Marty and he is Ford’s son.”

“The boy refers to him as father,” Jesture

reasoned. “No, the boy is his son. Chris Ford is the boy’s sergeant father. His mother is

one by the name of Denae.” Red Leader

remembered that name. The name of a lady from Camelot. The lady that had interfered

with his hunt for Chris Ford some twenty years previous. “Did you get the pendent?” Red

Leader asked calmly. An answer didn’t immediately present itself so he asked again, this

time with more force. “Did you get the pendent?” The druid glanced down at his feet.

"No.” A growl made it’s way past Jesture’s sneering lips and he struck the figure before

him. The druid, caught off guard, flew threw the air and landed hard on the chair. The

wooden frame shattered and splintered under him and he winced in pain. The druid did

his best not to cry out, knowing he would be punished for showing pain, but a whimper

found it’s way out. Jesture stalked towards the hurt figure and grabbed him by the throat.

“Is that a whimper I hear from you X?” X, meaning nameless in the Darkon tongue, was

the druid’s name. He tried to choke out a reply but couldn’t get a breath past Red

Leader’s tight grip.</body>

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