Aodhan looked impatiently towards the elevator as the bandit named Bartold, who he supposedly got along so well with, stepped out of the cabin and over to the assembled gang.
"And what's going on up there?" asked one of the bandits in the crowd as soon as Bartold reached them.
Dozens of pairs of eyes looked at him. Some curious, others uncertain. He himself looked quite satisfied, but also impatient.
Bartold took a deep breath and began to speak in a loud and clear voice so that everyone gathered could hear him .
" Listen Up! I have good news for all of us. Aodhan is fine, he's lying contentedly upstairs and trying to go back to sleep. This Stephan was actually a powerful mage, but apparently, he knew that his tricks wouldn't work against a dragon. Instead, the plan was for him to distract Aodhan while this guy over there,” he pointed to Aodhan, whose self-satisfied expression had now given way to an expression of disbelief and growing horror.
“Was supposed to steal stole some of the most valuable treasures. Then they wanted to use some kind of magic to get away, but Aodhan, the old fox, of course saw through the trick and quickly made short work of the guy with his fire. His accomplice here wanted to get away after that and then ran into our hands down here, I mean, come on, did you seriously believe that guy over there was Aodhan and that some ragged wanderer could defeat a dragon?” Bartold continued and started laughing contemptuously.
A collective sigh of relief went through the assembled crowd, and many joined in Bartold's laughter.
“Yeah, the idea is actually ridiculous when you think about it for a second,” laughed one of the assembled bandits.
" True, just because the guy was able to take us by surprise doesn't mean that it's enough for Aodhan," another agreed.
"It would be a bit ridiculous if some random thief ruined our whole operation," someone in the crowd laughed.
"Wait a second, you..." Aodhan began indignantly, but was immediately interrupted by Bartold.
"It all turned out well, but our boss is understandably pretty annoyed about the whole thing and wants us to show the people who's in charge here. He's ordered us to collect a small special tax from the surrounding towns, starting with Schlucht and then all the way to Emmertal. We're supposed to have a nice golden surprise for him when he wakes up. Let's show the people that you shouldn't mess with the dragon's men!" Bartold shouted into the assembled crowd.
There was silence for a while until one of those gathered said: "Uh, I'm always in favor of robbing people, but isn't it a bit harsh to plunder the surrounding towns, I mean, what do they have to do with it anyway?".
"But it could well be that they're in cahoots with those guys, we should ask our prisoner about that. Perhaps, the townspeople here are preparing something like a resistance against our dragon. Just imagine how bad it would be if they rebelled during Aodhan's nap or, even worse, even woke him up. After what just happened, his mood is probably pretty bad anyway," a bandit said thoughtfully.
When the bandits near him turned to look at him, Aodhan took advantage of the attention and started talking in a voice tight with anger.
"You want the truth? The truth is, you're a bunch of idiots and that was the biggest pile of crap I've ever heard. You two-legged morons are truly the living example that creation isn’t perfect. I mean, are you serious? You all just believe this one guy when he tells you to go and attack the cities without anyone else confirming that the order really came from me!” he finished his tirade, his voice getting louder and louder until he was roaring in anger and a few of the bandits near him even took a step back in uncertainty.
Something he noted with satisfaction, and which comforted him a little over his now sore throat. As he realized, human throats were not designed to produce such loud sounds, but he simply couldn’t control himself any longer.
The bandits around him now looked at him with increasing confusion. After all, an angry lecture about the gaps in their chain of command was not really the kind of reaction they were used to from prisoners.
“Maybe we should ask again, no offense Bartold, maybe you misunderstood him,” asked one of the bandits uncertainly.
"I mean, we've never pulled off anything this big before. I don't know if the townspeople will play along as long as we don't go to the gates with Aodhan himself," said another of the bandits uneasily, which almost sparked another debate.
This was immediately nipped in the bud by Bartold, who raised his voice to drown out the starting discussion.
"First you send me alone to sort things out with Aodhan and now you don't believe me?" asked Bartold indignantly.
“I specifically asked if anyone would come with me, but you all trusted me and said that I had such a good connection with Aodhan, do you remember that? It was not even an hour ago," explained Bartold, visibly annoyed.
There was an awkward silence for a while, which was finally broken by a female voice. "Perhaps someone should go with you this time to make sure there are no misunderstandings."
" Atleast one of you has found their brain," murmured Aodhan contentedly, while Bartold looked around for the owner of the voice and quickly found her thanks to her carrot-colored hair.
"Alright, Miriam, let's go up there together this time. You would have saved us all a bit of time if you'd made the decision a bit earlier though," said Bartold and sighed in annoyance.
"Sorry, but better late than never," said Miriam, shrugging her shoulders and heading towards the elevator.
When she had almost reached it, she turned to Bartold, who had not followed her and was instead still standing in the same place, with a frown on his face.
"Come on, Bartold, I thought we were going to sort this out now," she said to him, and he flinched slightly like someone who had just been torn from his thoughts.
“Uh, yes, I'm coming, I just thought that you should know that Aodhan is in a really bad mood right now because of this attack and well, you know how bad he can be when you wake him up and how much he hates repeating himself,” said Bartold and finally started to move.
Miriam turned a little paler with each of his steps. When Bartold finally wanted to get into the elevator, she quickly said: “A-Oh, you know, when I think about it, I don't think that's really necessary, I mean, of course we believe you and I think these orders are so clear, there's actually nothing to misunderstand.”
“Are you serious, you little …” shouted Aodhan loudly, but was once again interrupted by Bartold.
“Now that we've cleared everything up, can someone please calm down our prisoner, oh and for the love of all the gods, don't forget to search him.
” “Hey, don't you dare touch me with your dirty human paws, hey, let me go!”.
Despite his loud protests, he was eventually detained by two burly robbers while another frisked his robe and finally found the only object he was carrying.
“He has a mirror with him,” said one of the bandits, astonished, turning the object in his hand.
“Give it back immediately, you have no idea what…,” Aodhan began, his voice now panicking, but was abruptly interrupted when a gag was forced into his mouth from behind, while another man began to tie his hands behind his back.
Bartold had meanwhile come closer and took the mirror from the bandit’s hand and looked into it, along with several men and women who were looking over his shoulder.
Despite his predicament, he now had a sliver of hope.
Once they saw his true form in the mirror, they had no choice but to think about his story again.
“It could be that the mirror has some kind of magic in it that would have helped him steal or something, it might be worth a bit,” muttered Bartold, turning the mirror between his hands.
“Even if not, it is beautifully crafted with the decorations on the edge and so you can definitely sell or trade it well,” said Miriam, looking at the mirror over Bartold's shoulder.
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What nonsense are they talking about, are they blind, what is this about? He now thought in disbelief as he heard his former servants talking.
If the mirror breaks, you will never regain your true form, the words of the wanderer echoed in his head.
Desperate, he tried to tell them that they should be careful with the mirror, but his voice only came out as incomprehensible gibberish threw the gag.
"Take him to a cell, I'll ask him about the mirror later and then we'll get ready to collect some taxes," Bartold announced as Aodhan, who was trying to protest through the gag, was dragged away.
If these idiots break the mirror, then... then I'm finished , thought Aodhan, who was currently alternating between rage and bottomless despair as he crouched on the stone slab that had probably been the sleeping place of a dwarven miner a long time ago.
He looked thoughtfully at the bars of his cell door. He suspected that the small rooms, which consisted of little more than a kind of stone bed, had once been something like small bedrooms for dwarves who worked in shifts in the mines.
All that had been necessary to turn it into an entire prison inside his mountain was to break out the old doors and replace them with barred cell doors, which had worked wonderfully.
At the time he had been quite proud of this idea, but now he regretted it.
Damn my architectural genius, there's no way I'm getting out of here, he cursed in his mind.
If they had tied me up somewhere in the hall, I'm sure I could have freed myself from the rope or whatever, he thought. Then he looked at whatever passed for claws on humans.
Although that probably wouldn't have worked either, how are you supposed to achieve anything like that? he asked himself and began to groan with barely controlled anger.
He sat there for a while, grappling with the unfair fate that had put him Aodhan the Green, the storm bringer, the cunning fire snake, ruler of the Mountain and everything surrounding it in such a miserable situation.
His brooding was abruptly interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching his cell, which was unlocked shortly afterwards.
Surprised and annoyed, he stood up. The fact that the door was opened so soon after he had heard the first steps meant that he had only noticed them when they were already near his cell.
Why are human ears so big if they can't hear anything anyway? he asked himself angrily as one of the bandits entered his cell and closed the door behind him.
He took a step towards the newcomer and said in an imploring tone: "Listen, you're making a terrible mistake, I really am... you damn bastard," Aodhan interrupted his speech as he looked into Bartold's now unfortunately all too familiar face, divided by a diagonal scar.
When He entered the cell, he found an angry Aodhan, who was giving him venomous looks.
Before he could even say anything, he was already being shouted at by his prisoner. "You miserable liar, you were upstairs, you know I'm telling the truth, what's all this about? And what have you done with my mirror!" the supposed dragon snapped at him.
Grota, hit me, with that attitude it could really be him, not that it would make any difference, Bartold thought as he watched his supposed former leader.
"Well, all I know for sure is that Aodhan is gone and previously wreaked havoc in his hall, that doesn't prove that you are him," he answered calmly.
"The mirror, you fool, the mirror proves my story, doesn't it, or how do you think my form got in there?" his prisoner asked him angrily.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, the only thing you can see in the mirror is... well, yourself, that's just how mirrors work," he answered, somewhat confused.
So either he's so desperate that he's clinging to such a ridiculous lie himself, or there's some truth to it, he thought.
Aodhan, who had noticed that Bartold became thoughtful for a moment, immediately followed up.
"Listen, you know that I, er, well, Aodhan, suddenly disappeared, you see the signs of a fight and suddenly a stranger turns up with a strange mirror that he claims has his true form sealed in it. Just think about it, that's so crazy that it has to be true, I mean, if I had really broken in here, I wouldn't come up with such a stupid excuse. I don't know exactly how, but the thing with the mirror has to be some kind of seal or curse," Aodhan tried to explain the situation to him in a forceful manner.
"Alright, let's say you're telling the truth, what exactly would that change?" Bartold asked him patiently, as if he were talking to a particularly slow-witted child.
When the supposed Aodhan just looked at him in astonishment, Bartold finally continued.
"You see, no matter how you look at it, the dragon's men are now without a dragon and if the surrounding towns find out, it will be very difficult to explain to them why they should still pay a dragon tax," he explained patiently.
Aodhan had meanwhile found his voice again and said with a confused look: "Well, exactly, so it would be in all of our best interest if you helped me get my true form out of the mirror as quickly as possible, preferably before you carry out this crazy robbery. You said it yourself, without a dragon, it will be difficult to keep our business here going."
"Yeah, you know, like I said, let's assume that this wandering scholar or whatever he was really did turn you, a dragon, into a human and just put your true form in a mirror. That's not exactly the kind of problem that we can solve, or that anyone in this region can solve, and we would lose our position here a bit if we just ran off for a few months to go and visit the djinn, elves or demons to look for someone who knows about that kind of thing. You know, my friend... no, if you insist, you know, Aodhan, I've been doing that kind of thing for quite a while even before a certain dragon parked his ass in the dwarven ruins and declared himself ruler of the land, and in all that time, I've developed something like a sixth sense for when it's worth staying with a gang and when you should pack your things, and right now it looks like the latter. You are of course right, sooner or later people will notice that there are no more dragons flying around here, so I am organizing one last round before... let's say, before the magic is finally worn off," Bartold concluded his explanation.
For a while there was silence in the cell, with the alleged Aodhan just staring at him in horror and disbelieve. Finally, Bartold could see how the horrified expression on his counterpart's face turned into a mask of anger, which actually reminded him of Aodhan's anger when he was told that something was not working the way he had imagined.
At that moment, he really did seem to be a dragon.
His prisoner took an angry step towards him.
"Who do you think you are, servant? Without me you would just be a gang of bandits who would be sleeping in the dirt somewhere if they hadn't already been hanged on the nearest tree, and now you want to tell me that you are just ending our business like that? No, listen to me carefully, you will now give me this mirror and…” the former dragon began angrily before he was suddenly interrupted by Bartold, who gave him a shove that sent Aodhan roughly to the ground.
Bartold then thought he heard the alleged former dragon mutter something like, "Why does everyone have to push me to the ground?" before he looked up at him, surprised and slightly afraid.
"What can I say, Aodhan, we've been using each other the whole time and you've lost your usefulness now. Don't worry, the mirror is fine, I'm sure it's easy to sell. I hope the same can be said about you," he said and left the cell, leaving a pale Aodhan behind.
Lost in thought he locked the door behind him and walked down the corridor, back to the main chamber.
It might have been stupid to talk to him, but I just had to check if he was really telling the truth and damn it, but he's right, the whole thing is crazy enough to be true. Aodhan or whoever or whatever at least seems to really believe it, Bartold thought, who after this conversation had absolutely no doubt that his prisoner was telling the truth or at least believed it strongly enough.
I really have to be careful now or the whole thing might blow up in my face, it flashed through his mind as he entered the main chamber where the rest of his Gang were already waiting for him.
"And did you get anything out of him?" Bartold suddenly heard someone nearby ask. He turned around and looked up at Martin, who was looking at him with a questioning expression on his face.
"I explained his situation to him a little, and he quickly dropped his crazy story; he really was hired by the people from Schlucht. I suggest we just sell him or get rid of him right away," he answered.
"Well, selling will be difficult; there's no slave market in the cities and djinn traders avoid our area because of Aodhan and you can’t really sell slaves to the few travelling merchants who do occasionally stumble into this region," Martin thought out loud.
True. Damn it! Then the profitless Plan B, he thought, annoyed that he hadn't thought of that. The whole Dragon thing definitely occupied to much space in his thoughts.
"Well, that's a shame, then we'll probably get rid of him right away," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well, if we don't have anything else to do with him..." Martin began, but was suddenly interrupted by Miriam, who joined them.
"Hey, take it easy, I have an idea. We can just sell him back to the townspeople for a ransom, I mean, they're such wimps, if we threaten to kill him right in front of their gates, one of them will definitely give in," she explained excitedly.
"Well, he broke into our house, since our reputation is at stake here, I'd say..." Bartold began, but didn't get much further with his objection before he was interrupted by a grinning Martin.
"Oh yes, good idea, they just can't stand the sight of blood, they definitely pay," he said equally exited.
Bartold just sighed and said: "Well, we might get something out of it, let me know when everyone's gathered, and I'll take care of our guest."
Then he turned away from the other two and walked calmly on his way, but inside he was raging.
Damn! Damn!, Damn!, couldn't that bitch have shown up just one moment later? Now I have to make up some kind of accident, or maybe he'll attack me when I come to get him out of the cell. Then I can just say that I had to kill him in self-defense, he thought, feverishly searching for a way to get rid of Aodhan.
While he was thinking about this, his thoughts were drawn, as they often did in hopeless situations, to his lucky dagger, the hilt of which he unconsciously stroked on his belt.
The dagger had helped him out of many tricky situations over the years and as always, this simple gesture alone managed to calm him down a little.
Yes, extreme measures are certainly appropriate in the situation, I would say, he thought to himself and headed towards his camp. After all, he still had a few things to prepare.
