The Start of All This Unpleasantness

Almost instantly, Rillik was scaling the rock face next to the cave entrance. Rillik had always been useful in a fight, but his true talent was uncovering traps. It seemed that the corsair could uncover traps that even the greatest of spell casters would miss. Masark was especially baffled by Rillik's abilities, and on many occassions would set traps, both magical and physical, hoping to catch the young warrior off guard. Every time, however, Rillik would spot the traps and either avoid or disarm them, and then proceed to try and find a way to use them against his cloaked assailant.
The group silently watched as the man climb the last few feet of the rock wall and pulled himself up onto the head of the great beast. Garadaine shifted his two handed sword into his right hand, allowing him to unsheath his one handed sword with his left, readying himself for anything. Looking around, Rillik softly rubbed his chin beneath his helm, as if to help him think. Turning around, he walked slowly towards the end of the snout of the statue, taking his time as he did so.

    Suddenly, Rillik began dancing atop the dragon's head statue, singing some silly tune.
    "I take it there aren't any traps up there," Garadaine said to the others in the group, raising an eyebrow.
    "Are you all still there, boy?" Gartgnar called up to the dancing, spinning merry-maker.
    "Of course!" Rillik shouted down with a smile, "how many chances in life does one get to dance atop the head of the most feared and ferocious beast the world has ever known?"
    "I would say the chances are very slim," Trenial said blankly. Garadaine shook his head slowly and sighed.
    "If you're quite finished, Rillik, we can proceed on ahead," Garadaine sighed.
    "I never thought you'd be one for puns, Garadaine," Rillik teased.
    "Oh, 'a head', right, yes, well..." Garadaine groaned.

    Rillik spun around quickly and began to pretend to thrust a sword into the left eye of the dragon statue. Over and over he thrust his imaginary weapon, each time more flamboyant than the last.
    "Oh to be there, at that time," Rillik said to himself.
    "What do you mean?" Gartgnar asked.
    The young warrior stood up and looked into the sky longingly.
    "To be there when King Garalt defeated her, to have been a part of something that important, that monumental."
    "I was there," Cassrien said, "and I'd have rather skipped that chapter in my life."
    "Aye," Gartgnar agreed, "we were all fearful of being attacked at any moment by her then. King Garalt did our world a great service."
    "But that's what I mean!" Rillik pleaded, "King Garalt did such a great and wonderous thing. I'd love to be able to do something just like that, to save the world!"
    "We have," Garadaine said slowly, "we lead the army that routed the Orcish invasion three years ago, we stopped the Goblins from flooding our crop lands the year after, and we stopped that rampaging minotaur last year."

    "But then we only saved Ikros," Rillik said, sitting down on the edge of the statue, "we didn't save the world." Garadaine lifted his visor and slowly walked around the statue to face his comrade.
    "My father isn't as great as you think him to be," Garadaine said slowly.
    "I think not!" Rillik retorted, "Think all that he's done for Ikros! He's kept the Orcish hordes out of these lands, he saved the world from the greatest of all dragons by gathering up her three siblings, he even defeated the council's top man! I'd give anything to be your father!"
    "Well..." Garadaine said, thinking, "get on down here so we can continue."
    "All right..." Rillik sighed.
    "And it was the other eye he peirced," Garadaine added quickly, returning to the rest of the group. Rillik smiled and leaped to the ground, chuckling to himself.