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The Game	By : RTietjen Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 1955 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I’ve read Dragonlance for years, but I’ve never ventured into writing a fic for that realm. This is set during the Summer of Chaos. It begins the day of Ariakan’s “triumph” through the streets of Palanthas. Pure flight of fancy, an attempt to wriggle around inside the head (and the bed) of a most intriguing villain.
Reviews are always appreciated.
The Game: Chapter 1
“No. Absolutely not,” the slender man said, bringing his fist down on the table to illustrate his point.
Across from him, Rae rescued a full mug of ale endangered by his gesture. “I am not missing this. They say Ariakan himself is going to be at the front of the procession. It is an opportunity for mayhem that simply cannot be passed up.”
“Which is exactly why I am not going. These aren’t Solamnic Knights, Rae. They’re not going to turn their head and pretend they don’t see you. There’s no telling what sort of trouble you three will get into if we go wandering today.”
“Us three, Irybis? Weren’t you the one that ended up naked in the sewers last time we...”
“Shut up. That never happened, remember?”
“Forty points says it did,” a tall, broad shouldered man held up a slip of paper.
Irybis tried to snatch the paper from the larger man, who held it just out of his reach. “Whose side are you on, Tristan? Anyway, I don’t drink dwarf spirits anymore. Mara, stop hogging the bottle.”
A pretty girl with bright green eyes passed a half full wineskin over to her pale friend. “I’m with Rae on this one. I want to see these ‘Dark Knights’ up close and personal. Rumors only go so far.”
Rae hooted and took a swig off the ale. “Yeah, mages with swords and clerics that fuck. Sounds like my sort of crowd. Come on Irybis. This won’t be the same if you’re not there. You’re the one that started the Game.”
“And I’m ending it. Now. Before someone gets killed.”
The other three looked at him in disbelief.
After a tense moment, Rae grinned and saluted him. “Fine. Have it your way. But the points earned today stand, whether you’re there to verify or not.”
“I told you, I’m done. I’m out. It’s over Rae.”
They left him sitting at the table, staring into his mug. After a few minutes, he whispered a prayer to whatever god might be listening, paid his tab and slipped out the door after his friends.

An unnaturally hot wind blew through thte streets of Palanthas that day, cooling nothing. The silence in the streets reflected the stifling heat of the day. From the second story of "The Scaly Dog", three members of the self styled Knights of Kaos watched the crowd gathering for the triumph.
“This is really pathetic,” Rae said, eying the streets below. The citizens of Palanthas had turned out to greet their new lord, though many looked none too thrilled about it. Here and there a drunkard swaggered merrily through the somber crowd. Pale faced children clutched wilted flowers to their chest.
“Wonder how much he shelled out for this,” Tristan muttered close to her ear.
Rae scanned the crowd. “Hey, I see ole Lynch down there. 15 points, Trist, if you can snag his purse.”
“Only 15? He’s supposed to be the head of the thieves’ guild.”
“Yeah, well, he’s drunk. Knock him on his ass and take the fucking thing.”
“25 and I’ll give it a try.”
“20.”
“Be back in a minute,” the big man ducked away.
“You know Trist is probably as drunk as Lynch, right?”
“Yeah, but we need beer money.”
“You should give him the 25.”
“Maybe I will. Watch him, here he goes. Ooh, oooh, careful Trist. Ach, got it, told you he’d be fine. Where the fuck is he going?”
“Running from those two much larger thugs of Geoffrey’s I’d wager. Hope he remembers to pick up some more beer after he ditches them,” Mara said, lounging on the windowsill like an overgrown cat. The other girl was a classic Solamnic beauty, dark and pale, with breasts which demanded a corset and hips to match. She turned heads in every room she entered, and currently had at least one very generous admirer among the house of Lords.
“Do you think Davram’s going to be ok?” Rae asked.
“Probably not. Hopefully, he took my advice and got out of the city. He probably won't.”
“Damnable Solamnic pride.”
“They call it honor, Rae.”
“Pride. Or stupidity. Take your pick. Hey, here they come, Mara. You can see the horses just barely coming up the drag.”
“What, no fanfare?” MAra asked, yawning. The sound of trumpets cut through the stifling heat. “That’s more like it. Thirty points if you flash them when they go by.”
“30?”
“50 if you get him to look.”
“Him who?”
“Him. Ariakan.”
“Are you serious? He’ll be wearing his helm. You won’t be able to tell.”
“You’ve got to get him to turn his head or something. So we can tell he saw you. Right Trist?”
“What did I miss?” The big man came barreling into the room.
“Nothing yet,” Mara replied. “Rae was just getting ready to make the big score for the day. She’s going to give the boys in black a little show, aren’t you love?”
“Why don’t you do it? You’ve got more to show off anyway.”
“Because I’m wearing a corset, you silly girl, now take off your tunic and get out on the roof.”
“Irybis was right,” Tristan said, evenly. “They’re going to kill us. Rae you don't have to..." but he was too late.
Rae slipped past Mara onto the window ledge. Below, a stone roof covered the small porch below. The roof was quite steep and she had to move somewhat swiftly as the procession was nearly upon them.
She straddled the pitch of the roof and reached up to undo the lacings of her tunic, sliding her arms out of the sleeves.
Behind her she could hear Mara and Tristan talking in hushed tones. She could see the children below hastily throwing their wilted flowers and scrambling to get out of the way of the huge warhorses. Rae covered her eyes and scanned the sky, deeply disappointed that no dragons hovered there. She had really hoped to see a dragon.
As the procession rounded the slight bend right in front of the house where she perched, a high pitched whistle sounded. Every head within hearing distance swivelled around coming to rest on her. Several of the knights held half drawn swords.
A rare moment of self consciousness set her blushing as she realized exactly where she was and what she was doing. Rae jerked the tunic over her head, and in a moment of bravado sent it swirling down into the street.
She then scrambled backwards toward the window as fast as she could. She had almost reached the ledge when the combination of adrenaline and alcohol betrayed her. The world seemed to shift and Rae found herself sliding toward the street below at an alarmingly fast rate.
Just as her feet slid over the edge, she felt Tristan grab hold of her wrist and yank her through the window. “Thanks, Trist,” she said, rubbing her arm. That was going to hurt tomorrow.
“No problem, Rae. We should leave now.”
Rae, Tristan and Mara pounded down the stairs and hurtled out the back door into the alley, running down Irybis, who had finally caught up with them.
“What in the name of ...”
“Run!” Rae said, grabbing his arm as he backed toward the street. “Not that way. This way.”
The four of them slipped down the back alley, laughing. Mara slapped Rae on the shoulder as they ran, “You got him to look!”
“I think you did that. You should have warned me. I almost fell on him.”
“That would have been worth whole lot more than fifty points!”
“Gods, I love this game!”
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The Game