3. In the boarshead....

In the boarshead....

  • E

    The bandits always came. As certain as spring would follow winter, the fires would come and spread accross the sparsely defended villages. Always sucking some into the abyss before the fighting was over.

    The few remainding elders had led what was left of their village to the city. Grendz could remembere looking at the what were to him, towering stone walls having never seen a creation like it before in his life. The elders latered explained to him that these people had learned to build imposing fortresses to mimic a turtle and provide safety. The city was an odd place as stone was everywhere, yet there was little grass, and they rarely roasted their food in large quanitites in the middle of the city or wore animal furs openly, and they always spoke quickly. Even now, he barely had learned to keep up with the tounge, it always proving a difficulty for him. He remembered the wonder when an elder had sent him with another boy to trade in the market for food. When he arrived the market owners had scoffed at them, not wanting to trade their meats for their furs and trinkets. They had told them that their furs were not as valuable and had turned them away. They had begun to walk back to their family when some others of the…city place had confronted them and begun to make odd noises at them that they did nto understand. The new commers had ripped their furs from them and danced around and thrown them to the ground. They responded as any of their people would have, by drawing axes and preparing to gut the dishonoring fools, and probably would have too, landing themselves in jail or at the noose if not stopped. He remembered his prey seeming to appear out of nowhere stride up and with a stick held his arms out to distract the two and began to loudly but always in a controlled fashion rebuke the ones that had caused them so much trouble.

    "Glad to see the idiots are plentiful again." His prey had replied, a piercing blue gaze seeming to go right through everyone he looked at.

    "Oh shut up, this isnt' their place, besides they were actually trying to trade these worn things for food. They aren't meant to be here."

    "well instead of getting yourselves gutted, why dont' you use your mind. These two here, their families..what is left of them have pledged themselves to the city's defense. Let our enemies kill them, while they kill our enemies and just maybe might save your mothers."

    "Ashire, they aren't ever going to breach our.." The boy was stopped short by the stick going swiftly up to his face and a very solemn glare meeting his own. "Maybe not... Maybe so.. However, in this case, you are not sure what fate will bring, perhaps this city will one day feel what the other towns that it has failed to aid have? Would be oddly just wouldn't it, course I doubt your daft worthless hides would understand that."

    "If you weren't Garend's pet.."

    His prey had interrupted him, "Then I would have let these two gut you as you deserve. Now pick up those furs... fold them nicely and give them back.. nicely.." his prey had then turned and had suprisingly spoken though a bit poorly in their tounge and told them to put away their axes. They were uncertain but did as they were told, as weak as his prey had looked then there was something in his eyes that seemed commanding at times.

    He had later discovered that his prey was from a town not that far from his own village. They became friends of necessity if anything else, his prey's knowledge and glare getting him through the city ways, with his strength to help them if it somehow failed. They even entered the academy together, though his prey always was with the instructors bearing the shield and flame accross their shoulders. He, had chosen the ones that bore the creature they called a lion, not that he had ever seen such a creature before, and it sounded as myth to him but they trained with a savagery not foreign to himself. They had progressed through the ranks and had even gone out on campaign in the same group scouting, using bows when attacked, and aiding the men with their armors and fetching water, the whole time learning tactics and observing the art of war first hand. Upon their return, it would have been a mere month before they had grown into the ranks they had served but no... Grendz's hand tightened on the ship. The spirits had decided otherwise.

  • E

    "I'm your blood.
    You are my blood.
    It is all the ground's now"
    –----------------------------------------------------------------------
    Drelan sat on a cot in the boarshead eyeing the cieling once again without a nurse. "I need to hire me one of those full time, I'm beginning to think.... " He said as as he held his hand to his forehead. Kull had bandaged him but somehow he just felt hollow. He would be better prepared when he went after a necromancer, hes he would be. If it wasn't for Bow.. Well for all he knew he would be a walking skeleton right now. He could hear a voice in his head, "RETREAT" it seemed very familiar but he couldn't place it and he lay wondering where he could have possibly heard it, listening to the rain tatter against the roof of the boars head.

    Somewhere else in Narfell...............................

    A hulk of a man sat in the Pissing goat, his neck was thick, his face shaved except for a growing shadow, and had obvious muscles that could be seen even beneath the mixture of cloth, hide, and leathers that he wore. The man smiled slightly as he drank heavily from the largest tankard the inn had inhaling the beer as he drank, his eyes moving around the table to the other men that had come with him. It was expensive keeping them here, paying them to drink in an inn, but he smiled at the confusion it must be causing his prey at the moment. One of his scouts had spied the reddish haired man in the city and had followed him. He knew what he sought, and perhaps he would give it to him, but not until weakening his mind with confusion. His friend had always planned everything out in excruiciating detail, calculated everything everytime the battle field changed, he knew the uncertainty would be weighing heavily on his mind.

    He smiled slightly almost in a quiet laugh.
    The Ashire, still thinks he knows how to wage war. His prey had not wandered to the abyss, and had even setup in this foreign land gaining some fame. He had forgotten his place, his punishment. If the city would not expend the resources to do what was just, he would. He pictured the wonderful ritual in his mind, and the pain it would bring briefly here, and if lore was true in eternity as well.

    His gaze caught sight of one of his men trying to ~persuade~ one the the wenches for the night.
    "Enjoy you selfs, like Dar here. Tonight we revel, tomorrow we hunt."

    The man propositioning the wench turned and smiled, "Boss you mean we actually have to work for our pay? Awwwww, and just when I thought I had found the dream job of me life."

    One of the other men wore a fine blue and white tunic with a symbol of a griffin adorned to a shoulder pad. "Do you think he's prepared?"

    The hulk licked his lips. "He did.. But I saw them dragging his arse from beach other day. He weak and stupid. Any trap he layed is gone by now, of this me sure."

    The regal looking man looked oddly at the hulking barbarian. "then why didn't you get him then?"

    "he not deserve it then. Let him rest, gain hope. Then justice come." The barbarian grunted out.

    The man shook his head, "Grendz… Drelan's been many things... To go easily is not one of them... "

    "He not have tricks now." Grendz grunted as he drank heavily again and ordered more beer.

    The three other men around them died laughing as the man propositioning the lass was slapped to the floor.

    "Well aren't ye the animal!" She huffed. "Fakin' sailers more resp'tful den you."

    The man rose angerily but Grendz just glared at him with a steady gaze, "Next time speak with sweat tounge."

    "Oh the lass will wish she.."

    Grendz slammed his tankard on the table. "Sit, no of that. Not right."

    "I'm no farkin' knight."

    Evidentally that was the wrong thing to say the barbarian rose quickly and grabbed Dar's arm. "No more pay." He then took his other hand and snapped it in two the man screaming as he hit the floor. "Better, now you remember good." The lass backed off into the corner and Grendz motioned ot his remaining men .

    "Tarin, Herg, Ler. Come we sleep on ship tonight."

    The hulking man then went to the door the others following fearing the guard would come, or worse the man's wrath if they didn't and they disappeared into the foggy night.

  • E

    A young group pushed forward deeper into the planes than any one of their experience should have been. The snow had begun to fall and dust the ground and a woman in the group pulled her cloak close around her obviously not used to the cold. They looked down at the ground seeing many small piles of wood and what looked like burnt meat close together forming a ring of some sorts. The fire had only recently gone out and it still smoked.

    "Well isn't this a right lovely sight. Seems there was a banquet and we missed it." One of the men said.

    "Mebbe…" The woman said glancing around. "somethan just doesn't feel right... Perhaps we should have listened to the people at the inn..."

    "Its only orc.. They are weak we'll be fine. Besides it will be easy money."

    The three continued on not knowing a pair of eyes watched them from afar.

    It wasn't long before they caught sight of a rather large orc with an equally large crossbow in hand. One of them men ordered quietly, "get your shield.. distract it.. We'll shoot if from afar." The others agreed though it could be seen they were uneasy about it.

    A short fight broke out with arrows and bolt flying back and forth accross the plain while the snapper called out. The air suddenly grew black. So black they couldn't see, but they heard the groaning of something falling. At least it sounded it like orc. Vibrations began to shake the ground and the woman started to back pedal having kept at least some confidence in her position, but the other two were not as lucky and while moving weren't as sure they were going the right way.

    "THIS WAY" the woman called out. She heard grunts of agreement followed by a non to friendly growl and the sound of metal doublig on itself and hitting somewhere on the ground with a scream. "What in the hells?" the remaining man called out. The woman turned and ran in the direction she hoped was back, more instinct than anything else breaking free of the black shadowy air just as it cleared.

    The remaining man could finally see his once friend now a pile of shattered bones and a half cleaved body lying on the ground he froze not realizing the heavily grunting beast behind him.

    Then the fires came.... Though from where it wasn't quite sure. But from wherever they originated they shot out quickly burning the flesh of all that became caught in there wake. Theman turned when he heard the orc behind him scream in pain not expecting the hot fires spreading over his back burning his flesh and the heat spreading quickly through his armor.

    "Run you fool.. Don't know a personal fight when you see one you? You weren't invited..." Again fire errupted some of the orcs finally falling dead though they did finally see what was causing the mayhem. A man with golden armor, a slight gleam comming from it in the moon light even though it was obviously dirty with mud and grime.

    The man just stood there blinking. "RUN YOU ARSE.. The lass will run into trouble up ahead you idiot. You can do nothing for your friend." The new commer chastised again drawing blade and a shield from his back and eyeing one of the orcs on the field that was still standing. "you on the other hand... have business..." The man couldn't believe what he was seeing. What in the hells was the idiot doing.

    The new commer yelled something that sounded like gibberish to him but it sure did agitate the orcs badly. He then called out, "YOUR OPPORTUNITY IS DISAPPEARING FRIEND!" he then t hrew something that hit the ground and exploded in flame again felling more. "I imagine there's going to be a hells of a lot more in a few minutes..." The man then ran forward to one of the few left standing holding a good 6 foot sword. "SWORD!" And slashed hard his long sword hitting the blade of the much larger sword withmore force than expected.

    The man finally turned and ran but swiftly recieved a bolt to the back and fell over from the force. Only hearing a large scream and the clash of blades behind him.

  • E

    The sun was bright and warm. The pallisade around him green with creeping ivy. A young man of only maybe 17 years was in a round field enclosed by the wall practicing stances on a combat dummy. A slightly younger boy stumbled into the field squinting in the light. The older one looked over with a smirk, "What are you doing here? Your teaching doesnt' begin for some time yet."

    The younger boy just looked at him and spoke quietly, "I'm here, to duel you." His face not showing any real emotion.

    "Duel me?" The smirk grew wider as he looked at the boy probably two winters younger than himself. "I've seen you fight.. Challenge someone else, you still have a ways to go youngblood."

    Truth was they were all young bloods, still the term was thrown around to refer to anyone doing anything stupid, that reason said not to do.

    "Then kick my arse. So I won't forget.." The boy replied almost shyly.

    The older one just grinned larger but when he saw the boy wasn't leaving shot back. "I better not hear from Garand about this." He walked over to the wall where a rack stood and grabbed some wooden practice swords and shields. They were old enough to fight with real ones wrapped in cloth, but that would require real discipline as if anyone died or was severly hurt the penalties would be steep. The wooden swords were actually much more brutual as their security allowed the boys to strike without thinking as the likely hood of accidentally stabbing someone was minimal, they still werent' supposed to hurt each other but boys would be boys, and it almost always turned into a flogging with one leaving severely bruised. The older one threw one of the practice swords and shields to the younger boy them landing on the ground. The younger one picked them and stared at the older one for a moment before taking the ready position.

    "I'll even give you the first chance young blood. Come and get me." The older one taunted. The younger one just stood, so long until the older one was about to leave thinking him scared stiff before he replied.

    "Nay… You'll need the help."

    The older one shook his hard and walked forward the boy with a steady pace before suddenly lunging attempting to bring his sword down hard on the other's shoulder. A shield rose to meet it but the older one merely too k the opening provided and the yoounger's side sending him sprawling to the ground. "Had enough young blood?" The other boy just rose and took the ready position again.

    "Fight's nay over yet."

    The smirk came again. "No wonder the raiders have such fun with your kind. I'll give oyu your courage, but your stupidity.. makes you dead easy prey." A glare came to the younger's eyes his muscle obviously tensing the sword rising steadily to a striking position, but he said n othing. Why was the boy so angry by that remark? It wasn't that insulting. The boy rushed forward and swung hard, the older one parried and went for the boys leg with his foot, but this round would prove to be much longer the clap of wood on wood and the grunting of leg meeting leg as stances repositioned to keep one from tripping and falling due to a hit form a non blade or shield. A small crowd of three other youth surrounded the fight attracted by the sounds and waiting for the younder one to get his arse handed to him. The older's foot suddenly wasnt' fast enough and the younger flung himself forward, using his shield as a wall a sharp exhale of someone getting the wind knocked out of them was heard and the boy fell like a sack of flour but the shield kept going and hit him squarely in the face a snap of bone being heard and a gasped yelp of pain. The younger one landed on the older one but rolled away before he had the sense to grab him and rose again taking a defensive stance, saying nothing but the anger in his eyes seeming somewhat satiated. he let the older catch his breath but the older one didnt' seem to appreciate the gift and rose his nose swelling and with a growl.

    "Dirty fight eh? If that's the way you want to do it so be it..." He said wiping some blood from his nose even though it was quickly replaced.
    It wasn't long before the two boys clashed again, obviously any rules of honorable conduct far gone the younger one being knocked straight into a wall his shoulder being struck hard before his leg jumped out and knocked the other's shin from underneath him. Eventually through the clashes the younger's strength finally gave away and he became little more than a beating bag never making an offensive move only doing his best to parry and block the storm of blows.

    "HALT YOU FARKING YOUNGBLOODS!" An elderly man barked having jsut arrived, bald with a pepepred beard more white than grey and crooked yellow teeth showing as he called out. The fight didn't stop until three other boys ran and tackled the elder to pull him off, though it still took far too many second to do so. "What's wrong with you two? Dont' ye know you'll be standing on the front lines with each other soon enough? Come now git some sense in ye." The younger was wheezing on the ground obviously taken more hits than he had managed to block, even if they were at the end. He rose shaking blood comming from his lip, "Fight's nay over yet." he weakly whispered.

    "Drelan... Shut the fark up and fall back down.. Going to get you'self killed one of these days I swear. At least have some sense about when to retreat if your goin' ta be daft." The elder rebuked. The younger just bit his lip and stood still but never sitting.

  • E

    The man rolled his head in thought. Perhaps his fall a mere few days ago had been a sign. True the burning poision in his arms had hurt him greatly, but the bearer of the great gift had been changed. He seemed as if he just might be worthy enough not to hawk it as well.

    "I'm sorry lass… I can nay predict fate," he said as he watched the flowing stream plunge into the bottom.

    He had even lost that annoying bard and had managed not to tell him what his work entailed, knowing full well he would have done something to mess it up if he had, he always did.

    "brother... I will find you... It is time we awoke from our dreams..." he muttered quietly taking the blade from its sheath and holding it to the air and after eyeing its fine edges tossed it to the sky the blade flipped and plunged back to earth being caught by the hilt just before it struck the ground. "to battle and glory...." smiling slightly. Having his arse kicked by the Invincible one had helped him after all, he thought.

    His mind drifted again, he couldn't help it. Months had passed, he was now possitive the ship was not comming back until its passengers had finished they're work. It had been gone far to long for just an outfitting, he was no sea man but he was almost certain of that. He wondered if the Lady or Helm had answered his prayers and if i some way they were looking after them. He wondered just how much Lilly was having to look after her friend on the journey, but knowing that the companionship was probably much better than the freezing snow cold mountain he had her pictured on.

    He sighed and shook his head in an attempt to force himself to concentrate again.

    Come on you sniveling weakling, you've a battle to fight stop dreaming about some far off land and get your mind back on task.

    He pulled out some oil and some kindling he had packed away and started a small fire. He sat down beside its warmth and took off his armor as he gazed into the flames, slowly falling asleep to its dance.
    –--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  • E

    A loan orc holding a crossbow scratched its arse as it looked out over the plains, grunting something incomprehensible to most anyone but its own kind. He had been sent to watch, in case some weaker creature tried to break the perimter. Suddenly it coughed and fell over an arrow right through its neck, if quite by accident. A fully armored man appeared and dragged the body heavily to a spot and withdrew some lantern oil, in plain view of the cliffs, his shield still resting on his arm. He lit fire to the body and stood and watched, his gaze slowly circling the area as he waited.

    It didn't take long for some its brethern to see the fire and come to investigate seeing the man in gold armor that they hadn't seen in quite some time. The man's gaze quickly looked over them sighing as if though he was disappointed and then stepped aside and pointed to the burning orc body and then motioned to his neck. When the other orcs realized what it was he was burning they bellowed in rage, the man drawing his sword unphased.

    "Sword." He stated simply, as they charged him clubs in hand. Up his sword flew, their shields not protecting their very large bodies very well taking ones neck as it went, as a club fell his armored arm flew up, hoping to shield his body from the blow, though his sword wasn't quite positioned to take its life. he could feel the vibrations running up and down his arm as he swung his shield around its bright gleam distracting the orc as he tripped it and stabbed it swiftly. "SWORD." The man said louder as he spun around for the third blocking and parrying, but obviously not trying very hard to kill the orc. Again the orc bellowed annoyed at his clubs poor quality and how it couldnt' seem to break the man's finally crafted armor.

    WHACK

    The shield flew colliding with the orcs face dazing it a little, before the shield returned doing it again and knocking it to the ground.

    WHACK

    "Sword." The man said again displaying a single long sword before dropping it to the ground in front of the orc. "You give me sword. " points to the sword and dragged it towards him pickcing it up "I begin to go easier on your kind", the man turned and dumped the canteen out of the burning orc body weakening the fire. "Otherwise…" he drew out another container of lantern spilled it on the two new dead bodies. "We have no deal."

    The rose and hurled itself at the man hoping to take the man to the ground, which it succeeded in doing, but not before getting a sword lodges through its chest, much like a spear. The orcs horrible final breathe spread over the man as they hit the ground.

    "Dead orc... Bah.. " The man said as he struggled and shoved the body off of him. "NEXT TIME NAY SEND YOUR WEAK TO DO WHAT YOU'RE TO SCARED OF!" He yelled out as he rose to his feet. "THREE WEEKS ORCS!!! THREE!!!! THEN THE REAL FEAR BEGINS!!!"

    The man walked over to a pack that had been laying on the ground near the area and withdrew a huge blade obviously from one of the stronger and more proven orcs. He jabbed it in the ground beside the burning bodies.

    "YOU REFUSED TO TRADE BLADES! NOW WE'LL TRADE BLOOD! YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU BROUGHT DISHONOR TO MY NAME! YOUR MAGICS WILL NOT SAVE YOUR WORTHLESS CARCASSES THIS TIME!"

    The man then stopped and yelled as loud as he could hoping if he beat it into the orcs heads they'd finally get it. "SWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORDDDDDDDDDDDD!" He said grabbing the long sword and tossing it into the air high before letting it hit the ground.

    The man then turned and left to the north, leaving the small show of destruction behind him.

  • E

    What in the hells is with barbarians?

    The man thought. One was comming to kill him, he was dragging another out of the clutches of death, and another was giving him advice like a sage only with an axe that could have taken his head off. He looked down at the components of leaves and petals he was mixing in a steaming pot. And maybe, just maybe the giver of sweet sweet dreamless sleep.

    Well look at it this way.. He thought. If you die, no more worrying. before he scooped the contents with a ladel into a cup. Hours of sleep sounded very nice, almost as good as the days of sleep the witch had threatened if he ate the petals themselves. But he refained from the latter, knowing that probably that much time would not be allowed. He looked down at the contents the petals floating on the surface swirling slowly, the man deciding to wait to drink it until he was in safe place as she advised and hoping the whole while that it would work better than the drugged muffins he had tried months ago.

    What do you want

    Indeed that was the question he thought, as so eloquently posed by the barbarian growling at him as she didnt' like his answers. Did he know better now than before she had given him a verbal thrashing? He thought a moment. He wanted to do fix what he had started. Grendz would get the release he wanted one way or another, that he vowed. He had sent Sherin to spread the word and maybe even find Grendz himself. The battle field was chosen, and he knew exactly how he'd start it. He had used the coin left him to purchase several flags and some iron poles, and all the potions he could get a wiggler to sell him, just in case the body was unwilling. If the Barbarian sought ceremony, he'd give it to him. If he sought a dirty underhanded fight he'd give it to him. The long trip from wherever his home lay would be worth it.

    He opened the door to his room, and looked to the stone lying beside his bed. He took it and began to sharpen the blade as he sat on the matress, which the room being one of the finer ones had. If this worked he wanted to enjoy it. He sharpened the blade and began to speak a poem in bad voice and rythm making one wonder if he even knew it at all, and wasn't merely filling in blanks of a memory.

    _Friends buy me an ale this day.
    My enemy waits outside this very door
    Wanting what isn't quite yet before
    Waiting to see what fate will pay

    I go with sharpened blade
    A shield at my side
    And I thus do confide
    That death may just be at my side.

    Sure my enemy will kick and yell
    But in the end its the one who rises
    That decides of what the story comprises
    For only their lips the story can tell

    So wish me victory so I may spin the tale
    Of my victory and winning of a lass
    For every blow that came to pass
    Thus to be worthy of this stout ale.

    Sing, my story into the night
    Of the evil villian with dark eyes
    And of the great victory prize
    Provided by our majestic display of might

    Oh and pass me another ale
    Things went oh… to well
    For my throat is dry
    And another round I wish to try._

    He then sat his blade aside and after offering a prayer to the lady downed the liquid waiting for sleep to take him, and thinking of the fight that would undoubtably come in the next few days.

  • E

    The red headed man walked outside the Peltarchian west gate. He had tried to defend his charge and confidant and had been shoved away. He sighed heavily as he held his trembling wrist. "Seems lass, only one promise left I can try to keep…", he muttered as we went into a far corner still within the walls but far enough away where no one would notice and motioned to a hin with dark curly hair that was following him pulling a cart.

    "Sherin, pull them out over there." The hin went to it and began to remove many medium sized to small square wooden rods and some wooden wheels and some rope.

    "What's this for Sir?"

    "Planning.. " The man with the help of the hin and many hours do to his weakened state constructed a rather wobbly contraption with a spinning arm.

    "Me thinks you should have found a gnome." The gnome said panting as he helped move the final pieces into place.

    "Aye, but I already pay you. Thought you'd be glad to to be running messages about through the pass."

    "Ahh true true! I still do not understand how this will help."

    The human grunted as he lifted a very long flat board with a strange hook cut into it and put it into place on the contraptions arm, a weight that normally wouldnt' have bothered any solider. "This Sherin, is the sword."

    "Its big. Not sharp though."

    "Aye it is. And this is what I have to beat it with.." The man continued drawing his long sword.

    "Wouldn't it be better to spar with another brawler?"

    "Aye.. But I'm nay that strong... Yet.." The man tested the contraption tapping the larger beam and watching it spin. "hrmm.."

    The man played with the contraption for hours tapping the wooden arm about in various places to and through, it not moving very easily do the sloppy construction. Finally as night fell he looked over at sherin and tossed him some coin. "Take it down."

    "what?! that took us hours to build."

    "Just do it friend.." The man leaving as the hin went to work. The hin calling out behind him.

    "Shouldn't you be resting? Like nurse said?"

    "I nay have one anymore,evidentally." The man called out behind him as he entered the city.

    The man's thoughts were full as he walked towards the Blushing Mermaid. His old friend had arrived. He had heard the rumors from the dock people of an oddly dressed man. Things that seemed strangely familiar to him. It would only be a matter of time before he found him, he wasn't leaving the area. He would have to do what he could, pray for the Lady's to provide guidance at the most opportune times, and most importantly try not to fall dead. A group had begun to follow him, watching when they thought he wasn't looking. They didn't understand the fight, only its potential consequences. He sighed as he felt his hand tremble slightly. He had grown stronger with his rest after the battle, but the weakness had become more unpredicatable as time passed. Something that could be deadly in the fight. As long as it was predictable he could adjust accordingly but it would be certain death if the weakness should leave or come causing him to hit harder or weaker than he had planned for leaving him open. He stopped at the door of the blushing mermaid.

    Aye that'd shock him… We'll see who gives who chase...

    He then turned and walked towards the docks. The one place he knew where people couldn't keep something quiet for long as secretive as they were. He stopped by one of the sailors eating something while taking a short break from loading a ship.

    "Did you hear friend? Some criminal's on the run and told a knight.. Grendz.. Grendz something.. I forget the last name that he can farkin' rot in the sewers if he can't find his own nose and that the wenches all spit in his general direction. Seems he's challenging him if he the stupid knight can ever find his own daft nose. Says he'll be waiting to the south when he gets of his arse and decides to work… Oh and seems this is all secretive like.. Shouldn't tell anyone, I heard it from a drunk lass I bedded the other night." he then walked into the three legged mule feeling slightly dirty, but with a dark smirk on his face.

  • E

    The man stumbled in from the forest bits of rotten flesh and shards of bone stuck in and on various places on his armor, green blood dripping from him. His eyes were weary and he held arm ash he shook slightly. He could hear his nurse's voice in his head, "REST! No working all the time," as he collapsed by the fires not taking the time to undo his armor. Somehow he'd had the strength to survive, and even fetch the annoying bard's body. He smiled slightly as his eyes closed. "see how you like it…"

    He wondered where Amalia had wandered off to, and hoped that she had found cover during the fighting. Two days worth. He should have gotten up and found her but his body refused and kept him down until he finally found sleep. His mind drifted to Vine and the others and wondered where they had gone after the cave, and if they still lived. He had been unable to go with him as he had wanted but he had stood with the force that had managed to save the camp from irreperable damage, at least for the moment, and hoped that he would find it a worthy trade.

    He muttered something in his sleep his hand moving to his chest, where it sat for the rest of his well earned nap, not even waking for the dogs that seemed to find the new smells on his armor quite interesting.

  • E

    The man laid weakly accross the table eyeing the a gold ring that glimmered in the candle light. He was going to strangle that bard. All he needed was the strength to do it. He thought about the wonderufl sound of hearing the bard gasp for air just so he would semi understand what he had just done.

    "Lass its not there…" He sighed and tried to fling the ring from the table but it only slid a few inches. "Farking gods.." He cursed drunkenly. "farking mirk..", "farking lilly..."

    His fight was comming. He could feel it. Every step, the very breeze, his dreams. The bard couldn't understand, it was something a warrior just knew when it comes. When word had reached him he knew for sure. He wondered what the man would look like if he would honor him by comming in full military armor or merely witha pike to stab him and a garbage barrel to haul him back in. It was fitting who they had sent. Something prophetic was in their choice, the original fight comming full circle. He pictured the man last time they met, laying on the floor a green liquid running from his mouth, his body paralyzed except or the eyes watching him confu sed and enraged. Maybe Mirk was there to torture him in Grendz's place. He had come to him for help and to say good bye as he would do the one thing that might fix it all. And all he had done was thrown it back in his face. "..it'd give you an excuse.."he mumbled remembering the bard's words.

    "Lass I'm nay strong enough.." feeling his hand shake and remembering the nurse having to haul his body up the stairs of the boarshead. He wondered how the refit was going, and called himself a daft fool mentally when he recalled Penny's story knowing durn well she wouldn't be at a refit. He could picture her dashing off into the woods, hiding in the shadows, Lilly not knowing otherwise. She was good at that. No she'd be fine. She was skilled, she used a sword much better since her training, and quick of mind when she had to be,even if it lacked foresight at times.

    "Ocean... I'm sorry.. " As he passed out the bottles of ale finally taking their toll the image of the ring being the last thing he saw before darkness took him.

  • E

    The man stood in the finest room of the boarshead holding some food and a pitcher of water in his hands. He paused for a minute to listen to the rain tattering against the roof before looking down at the lass laid across the bed, a little bruised but safe in any case. His head shook as he remembered the other night and how he and his friend, two proud warriors had had a hard time even carrying the lass up the stairs from her feighnting spell. He laid the things on the table took of his gauntlet and held his arm straight out again peering at his hand. It shook ever so slightly before it became steady as a rock but right before he lowered it, the hand shook again. Was his flesh refusing to come back to him as well? Or was his mind just not there. His pride had been shaken over the past few days.

    First with a barbarian. She had hunted lizards with him on the field and was rather a belligerent soul yet somehow she had willingly put up with his presence. It wasn't the fact that she was a woman that bothered him however, or the constant spitting and biting off the flesh of her enemies like a rabid animal. She had opted not for strategy when the fighting had begun and had ran in head long into the attackers downed many of them in single blows and while he had tried to keep up with her slaughter he knew he had failed miserably and had been left in a rather bloody wake of destruction. The only thing he took pride in was sneaking up on some archers she had missed in her assault that would have caught her from behind if he had not snuck up behind them and removed their will to breathe. He should have probably even given her an even larger portion of the gold. Shaking his head he thought , "still she could prove more than a worthy asset if she was willing."

    His gaze then shifted to the lass on the bed for a change not shivering as if on the verge of frostbite. A mere servant, not trained a wink in combat yet as much as he hated to admit it she had almost defeated him in an arm wrestling match. He shook his head again as his mind drifted to another thought and muttered. "Listens to her employers too well even if she doesn't remember. Don't listen to the guard. scratches his beard Aye who in all the hells does that sound l ike." He mentally cursed himself. He had grown lax in his duties. He thought of his charge across the ocean knowing that he should have forced his way onto the boat even if he had to be a stowaway. Somehow letting her have her way about things seemed more than just a breach of duty, and only hoped that Lilly was keeping her promise and watching over her where he could not. Then there was her wonderful minion. Also evidentally haven gotten herself into trouble because she wandered off by herself when she wanted. The man made a mental note to himself to not believe for a second that a charge knew best as evidentally that theory was being proven horribly false.

    He sighed muttering the words, "Slave trader. bah, of all things… THAT'S what people believe..." before returning to his duties.

  • E

    He sat on a hill looking down on the planes and rifts a rather stoic expression on his face except for an intense anger that burned in his eyes. The piles of rocks and traps that had begun to hinder his way– no matter how many times he plowed through them--was beginning to annoy him. Yet at the same time it was a very intriguing puzzle. The eastlanders wouldn't say a word ass many times as he had tried to speak to them, yet defended the piles of rocks which made even less sense as it often blocked them in as well. It made him wonder if they were defending the piles to keep people out, to make once again some insignificant point in the worst of ways, or... wouldn't it be ironic if they were trying to keep something in? He smiled mentally, "Aye that would be ironic." The possibilities gave him something for his mind to churn distracting him momentarily bringing him a moment of happiness.

    But it didn't matter. In the end they were helping to prevent his way. Something that would not be tolerated. His skills were beginning to be needed in several areas and given his recent failures he had no choice but to follow, he'd his word to keep after all. Though one of the barbarians had given him a slight slimmer of hope during the brief mention of orcish custom as she had eaten the flesh of her enemy combatants. Were his weeks of effort not wasted after all? He forced himself not to think about it not wanting to become distracted again. The marauders and brigands would not keep him from his work. He hoped they would speak instead but somehow doubted they would be that intelligent.

    He muttered something as he looked down on the valley..

    _"Rolling thunder from the sky
    Crushing banners waving high
    Lightning striking sword and blade
    Until the path to victory is made

    Burning fires from below
    Leaving ash in its tow
    Is the gift to those that would not call us friend
    Leading us to a task we once again begin"_

    He then peered down one last time at a pile of stone then turned back to the camp.