The following is based on a randomly generated plot. http://nine.frenchboys.net/fantasyplot.php It is incomplete, but should be finished by the weekend.
"I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you." Gleena said standing victoriously over Thomas, facedown in the ditch. "Like how I thought you could hold your drink better than a choir boy."
Gleena was holding her tankard with a crude engraving of a mermaid and a pirate riding a dolphin. The Pirate was looking as drunk as Thomas, and seemed to be falling off the dolphin only to be caught by the mermaid over and over. The mischievous smile on Gleena's face hinted that she was considering leaving Thomas in the ditch to better think of his position in life, the world, and his partially digested dinner that lay next to him.
It was probably a good idea that she didn't leave the soldier there to rust, because that would have made the rest of the journey much more difficult to complete. After all, the MacGuffin Scroll was quite possibly the most powerful scroll on land. Probably not in the sea or the air, but on land, tales bespoke its greatness, and every day more and more people made it their life's work to find the MacGuffin Scroll. And every day, more people made their livelihoods because of adventurers on their way to find the MacGuffin Scroll. With all the people who travel to find the scroll, you'd think, by odds alone, someone would actually find the damn thing and the whole silly business would be done with. There are scribes who say that many have found the scroll, but that if they told anyone about where it is or what it does, the entire infrastructure of Calam would colapse and everyone would be generally disappointed.
But this story isn't about the MacGuffin Scroll, or the intricate balance between tavernkeeps and farmers and adventurers. Nor is it about the socio-political heirarchy of Calam that keeps rumors and speculation circulating about the MacGuffin Scroll so as to blind the people to the real problems of urban sanitation, absent parents, rising orphanage rates, and general lawlessness in inner urban life. No, this story is about Gleena, the mysterious Gypsy who can hold her liquor considerably better than a choir boy, and Thomas, the soldier of Gant; a town that recently burned to the ground, flooded, was vandalized, and generally shat upon by all of nature; who can't.
"Alright Conan, lets get you back inside." Gleena said after Thomas finished another round of emptying his digestive tract. And she bodily lifted him onto her shoulder and, recieving applause from the other patrons, carried him back inside, not spilling a drop from her tankard.
The following morning the pair were astride their horses wearing their hoods low over their eyes. The barman had been kind enough to wake them up last among the drunken layabouts who were laying about the tavern common area. He was even kind enough to give them another round before having his son help set them upon their horses. And he was exceptionally kind to only charge an extra 50% to their total bill for drinks they only temporarily enjoyed, and the room they didn't sleep in.
They were set to head in the right direction and headed out in the chill midmorning air. Thomas was cursing every curse he ever learned as a soldier and any oath he could remember those sailors who came into port using. "Brotherless donkey liking sweet urchin cow," he muttered, not quite remembering how such oaths are supposed to go. "I'm never drinking with you again."
Gleena wasn't in much better shape. After carrying Thomas back into the tavern, she was rewarded with several more rounds of drinks. This lead to a particularly embarassing occurance of making out with a particularly ugly bar patron, which lead to a fight. This fight lead to someone getting punched in the stomach and the poor fellow who had much to much to drink and was in no was involved in the original dispute upchucked his lunch, right onto the ugly fellow Gleena seemed to be enamored with. This poor fellow dropped Gleena, which lead to Gleena becoming quite upset and throwing the offending fellow who lost his lunch, the ugly fellow who dropped her, and the couple of fellows who started fighting right out the tavern window. This made everyone remaining much happier, for the increased airflow helped to disapate the foul smell. This caused more rounds to be bought, and the end result was Gleena had drank way more than she was intending, and wound up sleeping alone, neither of which made for a good morning.
"I don't want to hear it Thomas," was her response. But she heard it for the next hour straight. The ride, which Gleena found normally pleasant, was made quite dreary by the fairly constant leaning off the side of her horse to puke. "By the Gods, I hate hangovers."
"You didn't need to drink so much." Thomas commented. "Was the information you got really that great?"
"I'll have you know that not only did I get felt up, but I got the next two clues as well. And after we get the clues from Mrs. Peacock in the great Library in Westernoff, we should be able to figure out where to find the MacGuffin Scroll."
"That's great!" Thomas said, a little too enthusiastically, and immediately regretted it as he rubbed his own head for the sound that he made. "Ugh, I mean, that's great. What are the two new clues?"
She told him, and he rubbed his head some more. "Those don't make any kind of sense."
"I know, but maybe the next clues will help out."
So they continued on, Thomas rubbing his head as the throbbing headache got worse, and Gleena leaning over to dry heave every so often. . . . . .
