The Auld Oak, Bar-room
The injured man eats the
goodberry; his wounds cease to bleed.
Someone unbars the door and Gunnar races through it before it slams shut.
Gunnar, outside
The instant that the door closes again, the goblins boil out of their hidey-holes, swinging axes, stabbing with spears, and hurling empty mugs.
The men, wary of an attack, fire arrows and hurl broken chair legs at the oncoming foe.
Cormac has time for two hasty shots before the monsters fall on him and the other men. He puts two shots in the biggest goblin headed his way, an ugly brute as big as a man with mad eyes and mouth full of teeth like rusted nails.
A wild mêlée ensues. Brennan grabs and head-butts a screaming drunk goblin. One of the farm boys takes a spear in the thigh. Two of the men drop their spears in the tussle. The blacksmith brains a goblin with his hammer. Two fat goblins leap up and down on an injured man, cackling with evil glee—until the fur trader lunges at them, slamming an open bear trap onto one’s face and punching the other in the crotch.
The goblins waver, and then fall begin to back. The door swings open as a mighty thunderclap sounds. Gunnar has returned. The appearance of a giant blood-stained man gripping two red knives does nothing to improve the enemy’s morale. The goblins flee towards the drain by which the entered the bar, only to be cut down by the pursuing men of the Auld Oak.
Beyond the wicket, the Huntsman questioning the injured brigand-
‘’We come after you because you killed our friends. Can’t let that stand. The gobs; they buy captives from us. Unh….damn that hurts…my leg….ah…our camp was under the flat hill. You just didn’t go deep enough. “
The interrogation is interrupted by wild screams and the clash of arms from the other side of the building.
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After the fighting is over-
The last of the goblins has been slain or forced to flee.
Gunnar has secured his daggers and his warhorse, and had time to check the perimeter. The enemy, it seems, are all gone.
Cormac tends to the wounded men as best he can. His good berries prove invaluable in turning serious injuries into minor ones. No one seems likely to die.
The Huntsman’s conjured thunder storm spends its fury on the surrounding land, lightning bolts striking all across the field, but never hitting the Auld Oak or the tree that gives it its name.
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Brock Marsh Runoff wrote:Cathedral
Rennault is starting to feel rather pleased with himself as he surveys the ceremony--until someone presses the scrap into his hand. At first he tries tracking the figure through the crowd, but soon he loses sight. He then looks down at the scrap. Was it a tip? A threat?
As the ceremony begins, Renn unfolds the paper and reads the spidery handwriting...
(check PM)
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The River
Varrus the Ethical wrote:Roald lights the rag on the end of the arrow, notches hit to his bow, and then draws it back, aiming for the boat.
Roald's shot arcs high and then dips down towards the boat.
The two men in the boat scream as the arrow strikes the rower's bench. The lean man drops his paddle and swats at his cloak, which smolders where the arrow touched it. The fat man tumbles from the boat with a great splash.
Filbert and Roald peer out at the black swells of the river, hoping to see if the fat man, whom they presume to be Baubb the Toymaker, surfaces. The cold light of the crescent moon and the stars doesn’t quite cut through the night-fog off the water, and neither the fool nor the sell-sword can tell what’s become of the fat man. They hear a faint, distant, rhythmic splash and slap, more like oars than a swimmer…
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Ducal Palace, Lofton, Alamie
The mail-clad man-at-arms hurries into the torch lit throne room and bows low before the gaunt old man seated in the gilded chair.
“Your agents have sent up the rocket, Your Grace. I saw the fire over the river with my own eyes.”
Carilon Alam grips the arms of his throne, his thin body shaking like a hound in the slips.
“Excellent! The Toymaker’s gadgets actually did the job! With both Cousin Gilgead and his half-breed son dead, the westerners will welcome my strong hand—or be crushed by it. I will win back my stolen lands. Launch every vessel. Tonight, I reclaim my birthright!”
END OF CHAPTER ONE