Monday, October 16th, 2006

For as long as there was Icarus, there was the cane. At one point it had been a necessary item, both as an instrument of defense and a walking aid, but even after the danger passed, Icarus kept it. Ultimately, he was a vain creature and the cane gave him a dramatic and personal flair that he had grown fond of-- plus, it offered just an extra bit of security if something did happen. Secreted within its core was a thirty inch blade that has been passed down through his families name for centuries: Icarus just found a new home for it inside the cane.

Needless to say, when the cane turned up missing after an evening of drunken excursions, he was a touch concerned. After dressing and sending Dris off, Icarus trudged out to retrace their steps from last evening. He and Dris had assaulted a good number of bars which Icarus only remembered a handful of; it was with a little memory and a lot of luck that Icarus inevitably walked into The Rusty Nail.

The Rusty Nail was a questionable facility with more than a few shifty characters attracted by its cheap beer and well-endowed bar wenches. Icarus eyed one of those barmaids as he stepped over a drunkard passed out near the door-- wreckage from last night's festivities, he was sure. Although it was almost into noon, the previous night still hadn't ended yet for some. The bar wench looked Icarus up and down once; she was used to people admiring her ample assets. "Y'gonna pay for a ride, or are y'just gonna stare?"

Icarus blinked out of his breast-induced daze with a charming smile and a wink of one hazel eye. "Ah-- my sweet girl, you're too good for me, I'm afraid. If you could, however, answer a few questions for me.." A silver coin was suddenly bouncing across Icarus's knuckles in the tavern's half-light.

Her doe brown eyes followed the dirty glint of the coin with a wrinkle of her pudgy nose. "Wotcha wanna know, mate?"

"I'm looking for something," he explained, continuing to hypnotize her with the simple appeal of the coin. "A cane. Black with a silver handle."

She blinked dumbly for a long moment before finally deciding the coin merited enough to remember. "Oh, er-- yeh, I remember seein' it. Y'and that other fellow wit' the hair left it here. S'engraved with all sorts a funny mar--"

"Yes, that's the one." Icarus couldn't help the grin; man with the hair.. "Is it here?" He flipped the coin up in the air where it spun for a weighted second.

She caught the coin with fumbling, thick fingers and checked to make sure it was real. "Nope. Big D the peddler got his dirty paws on it, prolly got his mind on sellin' it."

Icarus halted the scowl that began to form, but he could do nothing to stop the deep frown. "Big D," he repeated suspiciously. "Where can I find him?" Two more coins appeared between his fingers, tempting her.

"He's got himself a shop in th'Marketplace-- o'er near th'Capra Bar. Y'can't miss it."

The man smiled and stepped forward to break the distance between them, tucking the coins neatly between her breasts-- and not without coping a feel either. He was ultimately male, despite all intentions. Turning a heel, he began to head out the door again with a wink. "How will I know it's Big D?"

She laughed hoarsely and plucked the coins from her cleavage, grinning. "Oh, you trust me, mate. Y'can't miss Big D."


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The wench was right: there was no missing Big D. He stood almost twice Icarus's height at a solid nine feet, without the horn; by all rights, there should have been two of those long bull horns, but one had been snapped clean off the base. The remaining stub had been capped in silver and etched with ancient runes where beads, feathers, and bells hung off and jingled with each massive step. In any other circumstance, Icarus would not have approached the minotaur. As as rule, he didn't trust them or their methods; they were unpredictable and often ill-willed, and even a creature such as Icarus could have a hard time dealing with a beast like Big D. The origins of the nickname became obvious upon closer observation: from his nostrils hung the largest D-ring Icarus had ever seen. Even as he approached, Icarus felt a bit of his confidence leaking as the minotaur toward over him and blocked out the sun. He squinted up at Big D and grinned something a touch uneasy. "Hi."


The minotaur snorted and squinted down at him with large brown eyes. "Wotcher want?" His voice was thick and gruff, the smell of putrid rot escaping his mouth with each word.

Icarus managed to stop himself from gagging, but only by taking a half-step back; he realized there was no weaseling words with Big D. "I'm told that you have something I'm looking for. A cane."

Big D cocked his head to one side, frowning at him past the ring in his nostrils. "Don't got any canes, kid. Go try De'thoria's cart." The minotaur turned away to fish through his products again.

Icarus scowled and persisted, edging closer to the beast once more. "It's-- it's not a regular cane. It's a sword. I know you have it, don't play coy."

The beast laughed-- a low and rumbling sound that Ica could feel the vibrations of. "You're the fool of a kid that left that fuckin' sword at the tavern last night, aren'tcha?" He squinted over his shoulder at the smaller man. "Who'd you steal that piece a work from, huh?"

"I didn't steal it," Icarus snapped suddenly, pupils narrowing. "It's mine. And what's it matter to you? Look, I'll even pay you for it if you wan--"

When the minotaur whipped around, he was holding the cane in his hand, shaking it in Icarus's face as he snorted. "I ain't no fool, human! Y'see these markings on the hilt? This is a Draconian sword."

"You think I don't know that?" He bared pointed teeth at the minotaur, suddenly uncaring of his size. When Icarus came to his senses and realized he was outmatched in strength, he calmed down a touch, shoulders slumping. There was, however, an intense pride that began to carry in his voice. "My name is Icarus Abraxas Marcotte. My mother was Azhi Dahaki, of the house of Kalseru. And that's what's engraved on that hilt."

The minotaur's eyebrows jerked up in surprise. Dark eyes glanced down once to look at the hilt again before slowly offering it out to the smaller man in astonishment. "What th'hell are y'doin', losin' something like this? The house of fuckin' Kalseru? Gods."

"It's none of your concern," he replied automatically, but his tone returned to normal once he felt the weight of the cane in his palms again. He ran his hand over the hilt, still warm from Big D's furred hands, and looked back up at the minotaur. "Thank you."

The beast nodded said nothing else. Icarus had already turned aside to leave when Big D called out to him. "Y'lose that sword again, Abraxas, I ain't givin' it back."

"As well you should," Icarus murmured, and stepped off into the streets with the cane tapping quietly at the ground.