The Night Before
The pillow felt warm and soft against the side of his face as the ale caused his head to do slow spirals. The dreams would likely follow soon, as they had for several nights that week. His suspicion was that his new sword was somehow connected, but then that simply seemed an unreasonable summation.
The sword was an accidental find; Kenk had been a resident in this particular tavern for several months. The barkeep who originally hailed from Tixitat was good enough to rent him a room for cheap, and give him some odd jobs from time to time. Although not an ambitious lifestyle, it suited him fine. That is until after a particularly busy night he stumbled across the forgotten blade. It was well after closing hours, Kenk was far more sober than he had hoped to be and his sole objective was to possibly seek the attention and hopefully the affection of the youngest barmaid, on staff that evening. He nearly missed it but as he was lifting chairs up off of the floor and placing them up on tables the sword which has been resting against the table clattered to the floor.
After inspection it was quite clear the blade was well crafted. Kenk’s initial thought was to sell off the sword and move on to greener pastures, but something had stopped him. A compulsion hit him, a strong one. Not to sell the sword… but to use it. Use it to fight evil, use it to thwart injustices, but the strongest compulsion was… to slay dragons.
His eyes glassed over as the ale had finally done its work. The dreams that came were fragmented (as they are apt to be) but most of them featured Kenk as a mighty hero, on more than one occasion slaying evil dragons. His dream exploits were suddenly interrupted by an incessant banging. Banging? Was that the sound his head was making? It was certainly throbbing suddenly. No… the door, someone was knocking on his door. He snorted and willed himself to answer it. Perhaps today was the day, he would become a hero.
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