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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 19, 2015 12:12:34 GMT
Mid morning Dal the hunter stopped by the stream to rebalance the weight before crossing, carrying a hundred pounds of deer, two hares and a goose, the last thing Dal needed was a dip in the knee deep stream. Dal still limped a little and favoured his left leg where a boar had gashed him two seasons ago. Putting the bow over his left shoulder Dal waded across and headed towards home.
The village hardly noticed his two day absence, at least till Dal's son Aden spotted him from the blacksmith's and with a "Whoop" ran full tilt at Dal yelling " A goose! you got a goose!"
Dal braced himself as Aden threw his lanky 10 year old self on Dal almost knocking him over in the process, handing off the goose and the hares to Adan Dal continued towards home ruffling Adan's unkempt black hair.
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Post by KaOsBlaKbLaDe on Mar 19, 2015 13:37:45 GMT
As he approached the happy pair, Dannar couldn't help but smile at the lighthearted frolicking of his comrades boy. As he rounded the corner near the smithy, he was greeted with the lightly acrid smell of the coals in the smithy's forge, fire and brimstone, reminding him of the severity of his visit. Dannar was a "half breed" scout for the Imperial Realm, and arguably the best swordsman on this side of the world. Since the downfall of the Realm, little work was available for former soldiers, so many like Dannar find themselves traveling from village to village barely earning a wage by taking "odd" jobs as escorts for wealthy traveling merchants,thugs for hire or any of the other thankless nasty jobs that most within the citizenry would find wholly unsavory. A proud soldier, a good friend, and unfortunately the bearer of bad news. As Dannars shadow rounded the corner, Dal recognized his old friend and greeted him with a warm smile and a casual nod of his head. Being true to his nature he looked his friend dead square in the eyes and said, "we need to talk,....soon."
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 20, 2015 7:01:06 GMT
Dal, knowing this friend for ages, and having fought back to back on many too many occasions, knew that something was not right, and in an effort not to dampen the boys good spirits, Dal suggested that Adan take the prized goose and the hares to begin preparations for a grand meal with their friend and visitor.
The boy trotted off to the house with thoughts of fresh goose with sweet sauce, potatoes and gravy, fresh meadow herbs, and maybe, just maybe his father will allow him to have a pull from the wineskin reserved for special occasions such as this.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 22, 2015 7:54:13 GMT
Aden carried the hares and the goose and placed them on the tables in the lean-to attached to the house, hanging them on hooks suspended from the rafters, taking a small knife Aden began to skin the first one, with deft strokes Aden separated skin from meat and placed the skin in the salting box and the carcase in the cooling-room, the second was soon to follow, finally Aden hung the goose ready for his father.
Dal arrived and put the deer on the second table, Aden was selecting the thinner smaller blade to skin the goose, handing it to his father Aden took a seat to watch, normally you would plunge the goose into boiling water and pluck the feathers, however Dal wanted goose skin gloves for the coming winter, flexible but tough these were ideal for a bow hunter in the middle of winter. The goose went into the cool-room with the hares.
Dal now hung the deer and the two of them began the skinning process, Aden from the lower end and Dal from above, soon the skin was in the salting box and the deer in the cool room. Taking the goose out in the process they headed for the kitchen. While Dal stuffed the goose Aden choose the right baking dish and soon the goose was in the oven.
Dal sent Aden to the communal garden for vegetables and headed to the deep pool to bathe, this was further down the stream and formed by a small waterfall, ideal for getting rid of the trail dust, Dal languished in the cool water and scrubbed at the the worst spots with a cloth and soap.
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Post by Cos on Mar 22, 2015 15:40:49 GMT
A stinging bite roused him from his rest. Slapping the offending fly away, Artos reached for the jug of beer on the table, only to knock it to the floor. Hell's teeth, he swore. He crossed the small tower quickly, stepping from the shade of the awning into the hot noonday sun. Squinting against the glare Artos scanned the forest's canopy and paths, but nothing caught his eye. Sighing he leaned against the parapet and picked at the nails with the point of his dirk, sourly eyeing the fallen jug. He had a week due yet at the watchtower, a week of boredom and solitude, and the hearty scent of roast meat from the town had not improved his mood. Artos eyed the long ash stave leaned against the chair and considered days past. The watch may have been earthshakingly boring, but it was a deal safer than life before he had settled here.
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Post by Jussi Ekholm on Mar 23, 2015 0:55:42 GMT
Suddenly a large figure was slowly approaching along the road. The village was quite far from the big settlements so visitors did not appear all that often. Roads around the village were generally quite safe so it was not that odd that someone would be travelling alone. Of course it would take a bunch of bandits to dare to challenge such a large person. Judging from the apparel, this person had probably been involved in lots of fights. Wearing battered half-plate & mail, with large dents and holes the figure advanced along the road. It was easy to see a very large two-handed sword on the back and bunch of axes hanging on the waist.
It was unexpected that behind came another figure, who passed totally unnoticed for a good while. While the first one was roughly about 2 meters tall the person behind was about 50 centimetres shorter and of very slim build. When this duo was getting nearer to the watch tower it became easier to see this cloaked follower. He was wearing a yellow cloak which was pulled over his head to keep him safe from the elements. Well the scorching sun was the only thing bugging the travellers on this fine day.
When the travellers were in front of the gate and watchtower they stopped. The large muscular person was wearing a nasal helmet, long white hair was flowing under it on shoulders. A small glimpse of the face could be seen, and the person looked very rough, beaten with the ugly stick was the expression that fit the look. "Open the gate!" came out a demand by low grunting voice. The way these words were said was not polite, it was a direct order...
The cloaked person looked seemingly nervous of this whole situation. While the large person stood solidly at place, not looking to budge an inch regardless of what the answer will be. "Open the gate!" another loud roar came out in demanding manner...
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Post by LG Martial Arts on Mar 23, 2015 1:14:11 GMT
The gate slowly creaked open as the iron hinges broke free from the rust that had accumulated from misuse. As the door swung open, the yellow cloaked figure took in everything that was transpiring before him...
A small group of warriors came from the walled fortress, meeting the men outside. The large traveller all of a sudden rushed through the throng of men and punched the "leader" of the small group of rag-tag soldiers, breaking the man's nose with a crunch.
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Post by Cos on Mar 23, 2015 1:35:39 GMT
Easy, friend. The big man turned swiftly, launching a vicious swinging hook in the direction only to freeze in place as the sunlight glinted off the steel spike a handspan from his right eye. It's too bleeding hot and my throats to bleeding dry for me to skin my knuckles on you. Artos remarked. He inclined his head slightly toward the arrow that lay across his bow. This bodkin will slide through steel plate at 100 paces, so save us all the blood and drop your hands. Artos had slipped from the tower and shadowed the pair the mile back to the village. He hadn't hailed them or bothered with the horn call, no matter how dangerous this pair might be they would find more then their match with the doughty fighters of Mai Calan, especially those with Andrinn's steel in their fists. The big warrior's face had purpled with rage, all the same he lowered his hands, his eyes never leaving the arrow. Kiel, see to that nose. and someone call for Dannar.
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Post by Jussi Ekholm on Mar 23, 2015 2:04:26 GMT
"Whoa Whoa Whoa!", shouted a squeaky voice. "Why don't we all just settle down?" The yellow hooded man had pulled his hood down and was obviously a bit in panic mode. Strutting fast towards his companion and hitting the armor with his fist. "What would Renzo have said, huh?", he was shouting to the companion. "You look me in the eyes right now, you know Renzo would have smacked you in the head for hitting him like that... now you behave!"
The small man now turned to everyone else. "Well pardon us, she has been going through a lot of emotional stress lately... I know I know that ain't no excuse but we are just friendly travellers." He made a nod towards his companion who put her hands down. The man continued "You startled us coming in all grouped up, it was just her natural reaction to fend off the attackers you know..."
"I'm Arud and she is Jen... everything is ok now, lets all just cool down..." The small man put his baggage on the ground also dropping his dagger along with it making a friendly gesture towards the villagers, trying to make peace after the rough start. He was nodding for Jen to remove her helmet. Followed by a pissed off grunt the large female removed her helmet, she knew she would get stared at, that's why she didn't enjoy populated places...
Brown bearded man looked around and saw that everyone was still quite tense, he was a handsome petite man, with a piercing look in his eyes. "See everything will be ok, we mean no harm to you, it was a misunderstanding we've been walking for the past few weeks, straight I admit we have been bit on the edge lately..." He tried to get the attention of his female companion who stared at the pointed arrow viciously it looked as if she was ready to bit off the arrow head. "Calm down Jen, these are friendly folk round here" Arud tried to get everyone nodding after him, showing that the situation has calmed down and that there was no danger to anyone.
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Post by KaOsBlaKbLaDe on Mar 23, 2015 13:08:14 GMT
As Dannar trimmed the last bits of fat from the venison haunch that Dal had handed him from the hanger and laid it on the table amidst the fresh thyme,rosemary and sage,he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for the conversation he knew he'd soon have with his life long friend. Although Dannar was a hardened warrior he longed for a simpler life, and the fact that his discussion will forever change the fates of those he cares most deeply about, he is certain that Dal is the key to their upcoming adventure. "I was certain we were done with war and death" he angrily muttered to himself, as he felt the rage building inside him. "I thought i was done burying comrades" he continued, and as the frustration and anger welled up within his thoughts, he was brought back to the moment by shouts of aggression coming from the direction of the village gate.
"WHAT NOW" he almost shouted, as the words were released well before his sense of guilt and frustration had completely subsided. Dannar stood up hastily while snatching his blade, Houndstooth, from its resting place against the big willow that gently covered the small yard of Dal's home. As he strode toward the village gate,gracefully slipping the blade through his waistband, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever see such peace and beauty again. As Dannar reached the end of the gravel road leading from Dal's place to the village proper, he noticed the hulking shadow of the most recent oddity to enter this sleepy little village.
"I'd ask if you were born in a barn Jen, but sadly the way you smell tells me that you did indeed" and before the big female dog could even tell where that voice had come from, Dannar had spanned the last 40 feet between them in an instant and gave her an open handed slap to the back of the head with enough enough force that the resounding SLAP could be heard two doors down. "That was for Renzo you stupid cow" Dannar said as his face changed from friendly and inquisitive to stern and demanding, "so what is it exactly that brings you to this village?"
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Mikeeman
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Post by Mikeeman on Mar 23, 2015 19:46:50 GMT
CLANG! Everyone jumped, turning to see a short, slender man face first in the dirt after tripping over himself and some pots. Upon making it back to his feet, he said "Wheelll, now... You looksh like my kindsha womansh" only to slip from what he was leaning on to end up back on the ground. Ignoring the drunken man, attention was turned back to the matter at hand.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 25, 2015 0:31:26 GMT
Dal put the second haunch of venison and a hare into a sack and sent Aden off to the inn, as much to keep the boy away from the altercation at the gate, from the doorway of the lean-to Dal could see the woman was a hybrid, part giant or troll perhaps, someone's bodyguard most likely, Danar would sort it out, the cells behind the inn may have some guests tonight.
Dal was unconsciously fingering his war bow, the pearl white limbs were made from the ribs of a dragon and was a gift from the northern Elves after Dal and his companions had helped a band of Elves fight off a roaming group of Orcs, Dal had no wish to return to those days of turmoil, even so he knew Danar was holding something back, whatever it was he knew it was going to be unpleasant.
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Post by Cos on Mar 27, 2015 0:47:56 GMT
Artos could have skipped his way back to the watch tower, despite the small keg on his shoulder. He had slipped away as he saw Danner storming toward the group and not caring to see the outcome, had snuck over to the emptied tavern to help himself to a bit of beer, and to a few cakes still steaming from the ovens. They would never be missed, and Artos was never one to miss out on a meal, especially when all he had to look forward to was dry bread and cheese for the next week. Humming tunelessly, he sauntered down the road.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 28, 2015 13:14:01 GMT
Watching Artos with the wine keg Dal remembered his own time in the watch tower, finding a plate then cutting slices from the goose Dal added some of the vegetables, wrapping the lot in some cloth Dal waited for Aden to return, Artos would dine just as well as they did tonight.
Meanwhile the altercation at the gate seem to be winding down, the village had seen many travellers over time, some stayed and became part of the community, some continued on their way, all were changed by the experience, some time back a figure appeared at the gate, one moment the space was empty the next an injured, half naked woman was lying there, after months of healing the woman, a mage, retold a harrowing tale fighting orcs and demons, in parting the mage left a gift, all who passed through the village would in some way have a burden lifted from their shoulders.
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Post by Cos on Mar 31, 2015 0:57:01 GMT
They loped towards the watchtower silently, long arms brushing the ground. Barely halting as they came upon the tower, the Berrawyts slithered up the rough stone and timbers, anticipating an easy meal. Man-creatures were such loud, clumsy things and doubly so when full of strong spirits. The singing had caught the beasts attention. Their sinewy, pallid limbs ended in twisted mockery of hands, full of a terrible strangling strength. Break the limbs, rasped the largest. Live blood is sweetest. You could never call what stretched across the faces of its companions a smile. The first Berrawyt reached the towers parapet and began to haul itself up onto the ledge. The man-creature would never know terror such as this! The filthy beast peered over the ledge, mind full of thoughts of pain and hunger. In the same instant, those thoughts were replaced with the hammer blow of a war arrow, sent from the great bow of Artos Dierfletch, once Ranger-Captain of the Hammers.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Mar 31, 2015 1:46:51 GMT
The second creature fell even before reaching the parapet, skewered by an arrow from Dal's war bow, these Berrawyts must be desperate to attack in daylight, foul creatures dangerous in large numbers and generally nocturnal, Dal sprinted to the top of the wall nearest to him, with an arrow ready as a Berrawyt lept into the tower, "Artos will make short work of that one" he thought. Another was half way up the wall and off to one side, Dal waited a moment as the creature moved to a clearer section of the wall and loosed the arrow, through the ear and out the other side it flew, the Berrawyt dropped like a stone.
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Post by Jussi Ekholm on Mar 31, 2015 23:35:42 GMT
After the Berrawyts 5 large white horses came to sight of the villagers on the walls. Every horse carried a rider in golden armor. Slowly the horses started to approach the village ahead in spear formation. Their golden armors had an emblem of warhammer embed in white. Golden helmets that had white wings on their side, there was no doubt that these men were servants of Rothungar, the one true god. Like some other religions around these lands they thought their own way being the only true way and they did not look kindly to those who oppose their faith.
Sons of Rothungar were not usually seen in these parts of the land. Their reputation however had reached even the far regions of the continent. They were not wanted visitors as their visits usually brought problems. They have their own twisted ideal of righteous faith and they do not think kindly of other ways of thinking. This usually resulted in multiple problems and as the Sons of Rothungar were famed for their prowess in battle that made their visits quite problematic. Usually it was better for common folk to try to get along with the "God's Hammer".
"Ho there!" the person leading the formation shouted to the village watchtower. "Thank you for taking care of those evil spawns... we cleared a nest in a nearby forest and these buggers ran away". Every rider was carrying their trademark warhammer that was hanging from their waist and they had huge tower shields on their backs. "I am Ilya son of Rothungar, all enemies of evil are our friends". The man shouted to the top of the watchtower with a large smile on his face.
In quick snap of fingers all of the men dismounted their horses and loud stomp could be heard as 5 large men in heavy armor all landed on the ground at the same time. Everyone of them removed their helmet and all had similar look with bright white hair and large white beards. Ilya continued speaking to the guards above them: "Our lord has sent us on a mission of great importance, we seek an audience with the leader of this settlement!"
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Post by Cos on Mar 31, 2015 23:40:30 GMT
A keening screech told Artos that someone or something close by hated Berrawyts more than they hated him. Grinning, he set down his bow and drew forth his dirk, a vicious spike of steel. The next monster leapt over the parapet, howling as it came. In three bounding strides it crossed the platform and slammed into Artos, man and monster crashing into the far wall. Move you shitrat, Artos swore at himself. Living quiet these past five years had slowed his timing, he hadn't thought the beast would catch him on his heels and that realization scared him more than the five hundred pounds of hellspawn that grappled him. Tucking his knees tight to his chest and gripping the monsters stiff, bristly crest Artos kicked forward hard, sending the monster tumbling over him. The Wyt rolled to its feet and rushed him again, this time though, Artos met the rush. Deftly, he stepped inside the clawing limbs and hooked his left hand around the Wyt's neck, yanking down hard while driving his blade into the beast's gut. He stabbed again and again, until his arm was soaked in viscous red-brown filth and he realized that his blows were all that held the monster on its feet.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Apr 1, 2015 10:34:32 GMT
"Hail, Sons of Rothungar" Dal said from the top of the wall, " I can speak for the council" Dal was wary, this "mission" they spoke of may well be the "conversion" of the people of the village, something many had sought refuge from in the first place, "You are most welcome here for food and rest!"
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Post by Cos on Apr 1, 2015 22:59:55 GMT
Hells Teeth Dal! Artos hollered from the tower, I've had nothing but last weeks bread and last years cheese all the long watch and yet you offer these folk my seat at the feast!? His words were light, but Artos held little more than wary contempt for the Sons of Rothungar. Handy in a fight no doubt, Artos had seen these men at the butchers work and was glad to have been fighting aside them rather than against but their devotion to Rothungar was near fanatical. Any man who claimed to know a God's will was either a softheaded fool or a madman, and dangerous in either case. Grunting with effort, Artos tossed the Berrawyt's corpse off the tower. Then Shaking the gore from his arm as best he could, he began to climb down the tower to stand with Dal.
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