Part #3: Interlude: "One" More Tale"
As the days passed, Kazok began to find that he enjoyed the quiet existence of Kjartenholm. The days were serene and blissful, if not a bit on the chilly side, and the folk were kindly and warm. However, as much as he admired the town, his heart began to yearn - once again - for the endless freedom of the road.
He had been staying in a room at the tavern. A simple loft, it had a bed that was too small and the floor seemed to creak when he walked (making him very self conscious about his weight). Despite those things, he liked the room. When he needed a quiet moment, which obviously was not often, he could find rest in the solitude.
Oddly enough, for someone who valued memory as much as he, Kazok never kept many possessions. He rarely left anywhere with more than a blade, a bow and a pack on his back. Sometimes, though, he would spice things up and carry a walking stick. Either way, it was clear to the locals that their new (and only) source of entertainment, not to mention somewhat of a friend, was leaving town in the early hours of the morning.
He strode through the village, causing folk to stop their goings on and stare at the Goliath. He liked attention well enough, but this just seemed a bit excessive. Now, he was starting to feel guilty for leaving without saying goodbye. Finally, the arrow that took down the dragon was when the village children ran up to him and said: "Mister Kazok! Please don't go!"
He almost grumbled when he turned to face their adorable wrath. "Aye, you're all good folk, but I cannot stay. The road's calling my name."
One child mentioned something about not being able to hear it, to which Kazok spent the next couple moments explaining to them the metaphorical nature of his statement. Even with the explanation, the children did not back down in their protest.
A wiser man would merely leave. When faced with a difficult decision, the wise man seeks the noble thing and does it no matter the cost. Of course, Kazok's wisdom skill was nominal at best. Sure, the folk of the village would miss him well enough, but they would go back to their lives (most likely, it would only take an hour or two for them to move on and possibly forget him).
"Ah, fine. If I tell you one more story, would ya let me leave, ya wee devils?"
To this, the children, and a few adults, began to confer amongst themselves for the next few minutes. Then, when they seem to have come to a conclusion, they turned back to him and said: "It's a deal."
Dear Reader,
Here's a shorter "chapter!" Usually, I'd just add the tale into it. But I want to keep myself motivated to write the next part instead of letting it sit for a while! Hope you enjoy this brief interlude.
~Kovecs