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Post by Jussi Ekholm on Apr 1, 2015 23:28:26 GMT
Everyone at the wall heard that horrifying screech. This was not a mere berrawyt, it was much fouler hellspawn. Seasoned fighters as they were Sons of Rothungar reacted immidiately and everyone of them drew their tower shields from their backs and they took their battle formation, ready for this new beast. As they saw that beast charging in on top of the wall, they already thought how many villagers it would slay before they would get their hands on it.
As they saw the monster crashing into Artos on top of the wall they thought he was the first victim of many to be. Another leaping charge by monster was suddenly followed by a loud deathrattle. To the surprise of the foreign onlookers the beast was stopped right in mid charge. Sons of Rothungar were obviously impressed by the feat that Artos presented before their eyes as they saw the lifeless beast starting to fall down. And with a loud crash it fell on top of the wall in front of the men and their horses before the gate.
Throwing their shields back to their backs one of them commented to Dal in praising manner: "Hell of a fighters you got here in your village sir!" As they lived for fighting against evil things, such feat of strength that was shown on top of the wall made a strong impression on them. "A man who single handedly takes down a beast like that is pure in heart and strong in will!" he continued while rest of them nodded in agreement.
Ilya shouted to the two men besides each other on top of the wall "Dont worry friends, we will pay for our food!" and showing a coin purse as a gesture. He knew that there were many cults and religions that were battling to get a foothold on people, and they were so far from their own ruling areas they were obviously strangers in these parts, most likely not welcomed with open arms. "And it was not an accident that we travelled so far from our homelands... there are some strange things happening in these parts!"
The 5 men in their golden armors walked in with their horses as the gate opened slowly to let them in the village. They wondered if this would be the village where they would find clues about the things they were sent to seek by higher ranked ones of their order.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Apr 2, 2015 8:41:40 GMT
Dal called to the village proper from the top of the wall, "Clean up at tower 1!" presently a small group of men carrying shovels appeared, Dal pointed to the berrawyts, the men began to drag the carcasses to be buried further towards the forest.
Dal was only down two arrows but with the way things were showing up it would be wise to have the smith make a dozen or so more points, these were wide triangular and very sharp the smith was truly an artist in his craft, preferably when he was not full and the wineskin empty, his apprentice was a good young fellow and would make master soon enough.
Dal's sensed Artos as he dropped beside him "9 hells Artos but you stink!" Dal pretended to dry reach. "If you wash that filth off you I'll take watch, if you can come back smelling like a human I'll send the boy over with oven roasted goose and vegetables."
Dal said nothing about the wine barrel and presently did as promised, Artos would eat well tonight.
Dannar did not show for dinner, not unusual as Dannar could be sidetracked by the afternoon events, there was plenty of leftovers so Dannar would not go hungry if he arrived later, after goose and gravy with roast vegetables and some fruit pie that Aden had brought home, Dal sat by the fire with some southern mead he kept hidden, reluctantly giving half a mug to Aden, as much for garnering that delicious pie!, and fell to musing about today's events.
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Mikeeman
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Post by Mikeeman on Apr 3, 2015 8:35:36 GMT
He awoke to a sharp pain in his side and someone yelling Raegar, which was local slang for "moron." That was not his name, but he left his real name along with his past life long ago. It was a nick-name he had acquired shortly after coming to this village and was happy to be called that instead the the name that reminded him of his past. Another sharp pain in his side brought him more to his bearings. Realizing something was on his face, he removed it to find it was a skillet. Looking around him, he found himself to be on a pile of broken pottery with a woman standing over him. It was the local potter woman kicking him awake.
"You destroyed a half day worth of pottery. You had better pay for those!" She yelled. Reagar apologized and dug some coins from his purse. He carefully stood up and handed them to the lady. He needed to get home to finish a few projects that were already overdue. He hoped his apprentice had already attended to them, but his apprentice had a tendency to be a bit angry and storm off.
His shop was not far, but he knew it would seem much farther with his head hurting and stomach being less than cooperative. He had no wine at his shop, so he knew he must pick some up on the way. After finding a jug of the cheapest wine he could and stumbling his way back to his shop, he opened the door. "And where have YOU been?" his apprentice shouted. After the near blinding pain from the yelling had subsided, he walked over to where his apron hung. He stared at it for a moment, but decided not to begin working until he either felt better or he had drank more of his new wine.
"I do most of the work around here, you barely pay me, and you walk around drunk all day. I should not be the apprentice. I should OWN this shop." "You have much to learn yet, boy." said Draegar. His apprentice's rage kicked in at being called a boy. He charged his master, but to his surprise did not find him. Draegar had sidestepped, grabbed his apprentice by the face, and slammed him backwards to the ground. He tried to gasp for breath, but he could not. Draegar stood over him and said "You will learn the hard way, or the easy way, but you WILL learn."
His breath returning, he sat up and leaned against the wall. He watched Draegar pick up the wine bottle and drink more of it than seemed possible for a man. Then he put on his apron, picked up his hammer, and started towards the fire. Now that he was able to breathe, he stood up. He was still unsure just exactly how Dreager had managed to move so fast. Was it his imagination? Was he just blinded by a moment of rage? He didn't know. But still being angry, he stormed out of the shop to walk until his anger had subsided.
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Post by Cos on Apr 3, 2015 20:25:56 GMT
Stink, do I? The river pool above Bull Falls had soaked in the summer sun and was pleasantly warm, yet not stagnant still. Artos felt renewed as the Berrawyt's scummy gore flowed away down river and over the rushing falls. Taking a huge breath Artos immersed himself to enjoy a perfect moment of calm before he paddled back to the shore. Laying out in the fading sun to dry and drinking deep of the ale he had appropriated from the tavern he thought of the strange day. The strange duo arriving in the morning, a berrawyt attack in broad daylight and the arrival of the Sons of Rothungar. Artos held no faith in omens, but perhaps there was some new happening in the world that had not yet reached them. Whatever the case, there was a good dinner waiting at his post, good ale to drink, and a long night of the black watch ahead.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Apr 4, 2015 14:40:58 GMT
Dal saw the apprentice furiously walking away from the smithy, looking at the scowl on his face you could put money on a fight with Draegar, Dal motioned him over and handed the boy an arrow head along with an order for 2 dozen, with that Dal ordered the young lad to go through the gate, cross the falls and return, with a quizzical look the lad did as ordered, many of the younger folk had no idea about the village enchantment, the boy would cross the threshold and return, thereby lifting the cloud of doubt currently weighing down his young shoulders.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Apr 7, 2015 6:46:33 GMT
Danar still had not shown himself, a free meal of goose was not something readily passed up. Dal fell to musing about the Sons of Rothungar, the village was some distance from regularly travelled roads and even further from trade routes, still the inn would appreciate the extra income and the Sons of Rothungar always paid their way.
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Post by Cos on Apr 17, 2015 20:43:32 GMT
Times passage seemed to slowly stop with the blackening of nightfall, as it always seemed to do. A minute could be a hour, and hour might as well be a life age. Artos leaned heavily against the parapet, gazing out across the sparse canopy, treetops the barest of silhouettes in the gloom, the home lights of the village a far off beacon. He did not have to spend his watch in the high tower, he could well keep his post in the hardy stone towers at interval along the town wall. Artos was a man of the old school though, his thoughts ran in the vein that the village should never need see any threat that might slither toward it. The Berrawyt's must have been desperate to attack so brazenly. Pacing to keep the blood hot in his veins Artos cast a moody eye to the yew stave that lay unstrung upon the table. That bow had served him near ten years and he could feel that its death was close every time he laid his body into a shot, he must fashion a new bow, and soon.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Apr 25, 2015 14:33:03 GMT
Dal needed information, this week had more surprises than they had seen in months, Dal picked up is war bow and an arrow, winding some string at the point and slipping a tiny sliver of stone under the wrap Dal headed to the parapet where he knew Artos would be leaning, or pacing like a caged bear.
Nodding to Artos Dal struck a flint to the string then waved the arrow until it was well alight, stringing the arrow Dal fired it at full draw into the sky, as the arrow reached zenith the stone now heated gave off a shower of sparks. Now there was the waiting, to pass the time Dal found a cup and poured some wine from the barrel Artos had "found", a great full bodied southern wine, Artos must have known where it was tucked away.
Dal sat with Artos watching the night fade into pre-dawn, getting up to stretch Dal picked up the yew Artos was using, with only a slight flex Dal could tell it was reaching it's life's end. "You will be needing a new one soon Artos my friend" it was at that point a small green pebble hit the floor, Dal immediately placed a hand on the ever alert Artos and tossed the pebble back over the parapet, moments later a wood-elf stood where the pebble had fallen moments before. "Lindariel!" exclaimed Dal who promptly hugged the tall blond elf, Dal was sure to confound Artos, Elves were seen as standoffish at the best of times, here one was being hugged by Dal and the elf seemed happy to return the hug!
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Post by Cos on Apr 26, 2015 0:50:52 GMT
It was a rich wine, he thought. a deep tawny golden vintage, fire seethed in southern honey. He had but to close his eyes and the great rolling hills and stiff sea air would have surrounded him. Shaking away the memory he grunted in acknowledgment at Dal. The easy speaking man was probably his closest friend in the village, besides that sot of a smith. Funny lot of stuff that you find around the forest, he remarked, casually tapping his liberated keg of wine. Perhaps we might find another while we seach f'ra new stave- As he turned he rocked back on his heels and half drew his blade before he realized this newcomer was a friend of Dal's. It must have been a comical sight to see Artos hop near out of his boots when he saw the slightly pointed ears peaking through the cascade of golden hair! Artos had dealt only briefly with the fey, and his dealings had been smooth and greatly pleasurable but he was always spooked by the fair beings who moved all to quietly for his comfort. Turning back to hide his discomposure Artos poured three cups full and loudly cleared his throat. Don't spose you would introduce me to your friend?
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Post by aussie-rabbit on May 5, 2015 15:07:34 GMT
"Artos, I would like you to meet Lindariel, a great friend, fierce fighter and blessed with a beautiful singing voice! Lindariel was the one who fashioned my war bow"
"Lindariel may I present my great friend Artos, no finer fighter would you find this side of the Spinal mountains and perhaps none on the other" said Dal with a grin.
Lindariel gratefully accepted the proffered cup, turning and raising it to the dawn then taking a sip, "This is from the far south, aged in wood for many years, a great treasure so far north" nodding to Artos with a smile.
They spoke small talk for a while, the Wood Elves were not a hurried people although Dal new the village would be waking soon, they passed the bow between them, Lindariel was of the opinion that the fine bow should now have a place of rest and offered Artos a deal. For a small flask of wine the elves would fashion a bow to suit his stature from the wood of an ancient Yew tree in the deep forest. An honour few had ever received.
Dal grinned, "So what say you Artos, will you part with a small flask of your "liberated" wine?"
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Post by Cos on May 17, 2015 7:16:45 GMT
Aye, that'd suit, rather, take this whole firkin if you care too, motioning to the small keg. I'll catch nothing but hell at the best and a hiding at the worst if Lynn finds me with an empty keg of hers. Turning to the east to hide his puzzled face, Artos squinted into the horizon. With a bow like that I could beat the sun to the sky. The offer was genuinely made and asked nothing in return. While he itched to get a hold of such a bow, it was difficult to fathom the events of the night; Berrawyts attacking in the sun, the Rothungari arriving, an elf offering him a kingly gift for a skin of wine? Shaking his head, he turned to the two. Forgive my churlish speech, Lindariel you honor me as I have yet been. Clasping a hand to Dal's shoulder he gestured back to the village. The night has passed favorably, but all to quickly for your company. Come though, you and your friend must needs rest and my watch is yet six days longer. Turning to the elf he inclined his head. See all as it is, and may your range be swift. It has been a pleasure, Lady.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on May 17, 2015 14:10:58 GMT
Lindariel inclined he head with a small smile and produced a small wine skin from somewhere in her clothing, having filled the skin it then disappeared whence it came.
Dal took the elf to his home, Lindariel motioned to the as yet unfinished feast, "You have prepared a feast without guests ?" as a quizzical look crossed her face.
Dal smiled, "Yes, our guest has been tardy but you are welcome to all you can carry"
Lindariel produced a long fine cloth that was almost transparent, taking her own knife and with quick deft strokes fully half the goose, most of the hare and a significant amount of the deer were quickly transferred to the cloth, wound length wise to make a carry able bundle.
"We are a party of eight and while the forest supplies most of our needs we have no time to cook meat" explained Lindariel.
Lindariel produced a small bronze whistle and stepping outside blew on it, or at least appeared to, Dal heard nothing, "You have a writing stick and paper?" she asked.
Dal found the items and proffered them to Lindariel, taking a thin strip the elf wrote quickly, and wound the paper into a tight roll that was promptly put into a tiny brass cylinder.
Lindariel walked outside and blew the whistle again, a small hawk appeared and lightly perched on her shoulder, attaching the cylinder to the hawk's leg Lindariel sent it back to the sky.
"Come, we have much to discuss" Lindariel gave a rueful smile.
Dal's worst fears were stirred over the next hour, the three kingdoms to the west had banded together to drive the worst of the foul creatures from their lands, orcs, wights, even trolls had been driven out and were now moving east, most were headed north east towards more populated areas but still many were headed due east, straight towards the village.
Lindariel continued, " The bow I have offered your friend is almost complete, it was to be a gift for king Nok's son, however he was cut down by an orc during a raid, this bow is infused with Elven Majic and will even kill a troll with our arrows, you already have your war bow but I fear you will need more before the winter comes, so it was serendipity your friend needed a new bow"
Dal took all this in and fell to musing, finally Dal stood up, "My eyes feel like sand, we must sleep and tonight I shall inform our people to brace for war"
Dal showed Lindariel the guest room and then slid into his own bed, tho' sleep seemed to elude him.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on May 19, 2015 5:02:21 GMT
Both woke a few hours later, Dal invited Lindariel to the cool room to add more food to the bundle, choosing some cheeses and dried fruit the bundle grew till it was almost as long as Lindariel was tall.
Dal carried the rest of the deer to the town square where it would be placed over coals on a spit spreading the word for a meeting as he went. Folks with full stomachs argued less, not that Dal expected any arguments.
Dal returned home as the evening advanced to find Lindariel had been busy tidying the whole house ! There was a new bundle on the table and not the one Lindariel had previously, "Our trail cakes" she said, "You would remember them" Lindariel was grinning. Dal remembered them well, just one would keep you going all day, somewhat tasteless and flat they took getting used too.
Now it was Dal's turn to grin, one of Lindariel's party had slipped into the village to exchange the bundles, no doubt without anyone noticing, Artos would give the watcher in the tower a right bollocking for missing the elf's coming and going if he knew.
There was a second bundle, all green hide with a leather thong running down the middle, instinctively Dal knew it was the bow, Dal also knew not to touch it in any way, there was a small ceremony to accepting one during which the bow bonded to it's new owner. Dal's war bow was bonded to him in the same way, although Dal's bow was fashioned from two ribs of a dragon and considered a weapon of great power, the bow for Artos was made from one of the ancient yew trees of the deep forest then imbued with Elven majic, it would be formidable, a good match for Artos.
Dal pointed out the room Artos called home, tucked away against the inner wall, Lindariel headed towards Artos while Dal headed for the square.
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Post by Cos on Jun 4, 2015 23:19:11 GMT
Bull Falls gentle roar bounded through the glade, the crashing water smoking in the rising dawn. The arrow slammed into the quintain's arm and Artos cursed the wild shot, rising sun had thrown his eye off. Blinking to accustom himself to dawn light Artos pulled forth another shaft and with a deep breath drew back the whipped cord of his dying bow. CRACK! The cord went slack in his grasp in the same moment he felt the yew stave buckle. Shitfire. His bow had not shattered but it was plain that the crack was far beyond repair. Spose it's providence Dal's friend showing up as she did. gathering his things Artos jogged back to town.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jun 5, 2015 14:54:13 GMT
Dal walked down to the square slowly, no one wanted to be the bearer of bad news, reaching the square Dal found a plate and piled on a few good slices of venison, some root vegetables and a ladle of rich brown gravy. Circling the group while eating Dal saw that most of the village was here, exceptions such as the watchers in the towers were to be expected.
Finishing the plate Dal found an empty bench and dragged it near the fire pit, this he stood upon and began tapping the edge of the plate with the back of his knife to get everyone's attention, the background murmur died out and everyone looked attentive.
"I'm sorry to interrupt such a fine meal in such good company but I have news that cannot wait, as many of you know already there was an attack by two Berrawyts and a larger Wygt today in full daylight" loud murmurs passed through the crowd and Dal waited till they died down.
Dal then filled in all the details of the events and the Elf's warnings, "We need to be prepared" Dal continued "We may have one or two weeks before we see real trouble but we must be alert and cautious, children must be kept inside the walls at all times, if we enter the forest we do so in a group with scouts and fighters, bring in all the harvested crops for storage, bring out your war weapons and tend to them, check all walls and palisades, uncover the siege engines and bring them to full readiness, alert all outlying homes and be prepared for long term guests"
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jun 5, 2015 15:14:07 GMT
Dal faced the figures clad in their shining armour, "Sons of Rothungar, if you are willing to stay and fight with us the East tower has lodgings for all and you are most welcome to abide with us and share what we have, this village was built in an earlier time and is well made and defensible, all here are proud and strong, we understand if your quest takes precedent, you are welcome in either case."
"The Sons of Rothungar are bound by oath to defeat evil in this land" said the largest, "our quest binds us to assist in time of need, we shall be happy to help and thank you all for the generous offering of lodging."
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jul 9, 2015 8:46:51 GMT
During the days that followed several families arrived complete with extra provisions, fodder and animals. All were welcome including two Mages and young Eric and the great Owl, Eric and the Owl were somehow bonded, at night while the bird flew Eric could see and hear what the owl saw, Eric was a little odd, thin, weedy and fainted occasionally but always welcome.
The mages took over the two towers, both solitary and carried their trademark air of superiority, both smart enough to know strength lay in numbers.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jul 9, 2015 14:32:38 GMT
Everyone pulled together, the base of the walls were cleared, the mages strengthened the warding spells, the iron gates were greased, fodder filled the stables, store houses were filled to overflowing while Dal and Artos hunted the near woods for game to fill the cool houses.
It was later in the week that a keen-eyed boy on the wall spotted a wingless Wyrm in the forest, the Sons of Rothungar went straight to battle, the Wyrm was 20 paces long and attacked with a scream, back and forth the fight raged, the Sons with their great hewing spears and the Wyrm with it's teeth, talons and scimitar tail, it was late in the day before one of the Sons finally leapt from his horse and drove his spear into the back of the Wyrms neck driving it deep through the spine, a great cheer came from the walls as the whole village erupted.
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jul 10, 2015 8:32:33 GMT
Dal and several of the men began to skin the Wyrm, the scimitar tail, a prize of great value was presented to the brave Son that made the leap to finally put an end to the Wyrm, the skin was salted and stuffed with straw, placed near the edge of the forest it would deter others from approaching.
The Sons of Rothungar, bruised, bloody but undaunted were taken to the healers house to mend cuts and salve the bruises,
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Post by aussie-rabbit on Jul 11, 2015 9:45:19 GMT
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