Ol' Flint the Crow

Forged Documents

Yanking the bottle of alcohol and pouring its contents into his quivering throat, Samuel shivered in anguish. The thought of a killer worm inside of his beating heart was not particularly pleasant. His chest heaved in and out.

Reaching for his flute, the minstrel blew a couple of notes to ease his body which was on the verge of a panic attack. Tenderly clenching his instrument in his shaking hands, Samuel looked at Bleak and Flint in desperation. "What can I do?!"

The bartender brushed her golden locks away form her gloomy face as she remained silent. She sluggishly crossed her arms making her thick muscles bulge out. This did reassure the flute player at all as he bent over in his chair. As Samuel and Miss Bleak were in a state of speechless melancholy, Flint was busy reviewing the leather notebook. With his talons making clicking sound on top of the table, the unruffled crow calmly paced in front of the distressed minstrel. The bird even began to whistle cheerfully which made Samuel grit his teeth in annoyance.

"What in the gods' names are you doing?!" He screamed at the bird. "I'm a dead man walking and you pick this time to hum like everything's peachy? Weren't you the same animal who threw a glass at my head for playing a song? Shut up, will you?!"

Swiftly slamming the book shut, Flint's brow sharpened as he glared at the minstrel. "I'm whistling because it makes me think proper! Reading has never been my strong suit, human! And if you don't mind your tongue, I'll pull it right out of your mouth and feed it back to you in pieces!"

Going back to the book, the crow incoherently repeated the words that were written, taking extra time to enunciate the difficult ones. Flint's piercing black eye darted away from the book and up at the bartender.

"Miss Bleak," the crow squawked while gesturing to the dead man with a quick, indifferent flick of his wing. "That thug was one of Tabitha's nobles. She send him to keep tabs on me. I had a sneaky suspicion about him when he was here last night. Too bad I did not react sooner... Anyways, Tabitha and the rest of her ilk are on their way here and seek to capture me alive!"

"Then why did that man have that killer worm with him?!" Samuel yelped as he jolted from his seat and slammed his shaking hand on top of the table. Flint had to shuffled his feet to keep from toppling over. "If he actually wanted you alive he wouldn't have that thing trapped away in his pen! I would not have been involved if not for the worm you hurdled at me!"

"That worm was not here to kill me, you ungrateful human!" Flint hissed as he leaped in front of the minstrel's pale face. With his scarred up beak within biting distance from the man's soft nose, Flint venomously exclaimed, "I want to help you but if you don't shut the hell up right now I'll make you wish that worm would kill you right now!!!"

Taking a step back from the shivering man, the crow's voice calmly explained, "This worm was a last resort incase that dead noble could not stop me from fleeing. It's leverage forcing me to find Tabitha and her Kill Word."

"Kill Word?" Samuel muttered as he rubbed his tense jaw. Deep in thought, the minstrel desperately tried to remember what it meant. Snapping his fingers in realization, Samuel shouted, "Ah! A word or phrase that can be used to completely destroy a living organism! I heard that it's a difficult malediction to bind with the victim. However, a worm would be a relatively simple being for it to work on."

"Exactly but please be quite!" Flint grumbled as he scanned the rest of the words in the journal. "According to this, Tabitha estimated that I had no more than twelve hours to discover the Kill Word which she most likely only knows. Now that it's inside of your considerably larger body we may have an entire week to destroy the worm! Unfortunately this will all be for nothing if she finds us hear."

"Why?" Samuel questioned the bird. "Let's find this princess and make her tell us the word. You're pretty skilled with a sword, right?"

"Not against her gang of revenge hungry nobles! I am not going anywhere near them. They desire only one thing: to torture me for all eternity! No thank you Mr. Uh..."

"...Samuel."

"Mr. Samuel! Like I said previously, I maybe a monster, but I'm not without honor. It was my fault this happened to you. And I do want to fix this, but I will not be tortured, yet again, for you! Besides, there are other ways to kill the worm. However, Tabitha said she is on here way. We must flee before she can capture us. Then we can deal with the creature in your heart... If only we had more time. Hmm?"

His one eye moving back to the notebook, Flint examined the intricate penmanship of the deceased noble. The letters were beautifully written and flowed well with one another. His L's were thick and had a beautiful flourish at the top and bottom. The G's could hardly be seen but they wove flawlessly into the next letter. M's would prove to be the hardest to recreate, especially capitalized. There was only one problem, the crow could not write.

"Bah!" Flint said while scratching his chest with his beak. "I need a duplication spell! I can't imitate the dead man's handwriting without it!"

Cocking his head slightly when he understood what Flint had planned, the minstrel asked, "So this Princess Tabitha won't bother to come here, thinking that you have the worm inside of your body?

Flint smirked at Samuel's brilliance.

"Could I see the journal?" the minstrel asked.

The bird clicked his tongue a few times and hesitantly handed over the book to Samuel. Viewing each letter as it was written, the minstrel wiggled his fingers and grabbed the silver pen.

"Wait!" the crow yelped as he desperately seized Samuel's arm tightly. "You only have one shot at this! If Tabitha sees anything off with your writing, she'll barge in here without a second thought! Are you up to the task?"

"I may look like a simple flute player, but I'm actually quite educated," the minstrel said, tearing his hand away form the crows surprisingly rough grasp. "Promise me that you will discover a way to get rid of this worm in my heart and I'll make the princess believe anything I write!"

Shutting his one eye and letting go of the minstrel, Flint allowed Samuel to forge the dead man's notebook. Using all of his past calligraphy skills he collect from all the countless written essays he hand to make, the minstrel began to write. All of the sleepless nights he spent to pass his exams went through his mind.

It was difficult to keep up with the University's learning standards. Writing countless handwritten compositions took a toll on his fingers and patience. This was only one of the many things he needed to accomplish while enrolled there. History, Science, Arithmetic, and the Arts killed his chances at graduating. His only hope was to alter his grades the grizzled Professor had given him. This proved to be his undoing. They discovered his attempt at hoodwinking the school of higher learning by rewriting his end of term assessment. He was swiftly expelled after that. This was going to be his second attempt, a chance at redemption as it were.

"Forgive me Princess Tabitha, the crow discovered my presence and confronted me. Thankfully I was able to use the worm on him. He will comply with your wishes and will met you at the appointed place you stated in the book. I ask for your mercy."

Lifting the sliver pen from the page, Samuel admired his handy work. It was good- or at least good enough. He was able to capture the way the man joined together his letters perfectly. His only concern was the phrasing. The minstrel thought he may have written it too vaguely. Nevertheless, it was too late to correct it. All they could do now was wait for a reply.