Edward walks in the direction he had sounds of battle from. As he steps out from the trees onto a steep hillside, the first thing he saw was a young man kneeling over the body of an armoured figure. A little further away another youngish looking fellow in blue robes was also kneeling over another of these warriors.
Taking an educated guess, he headed for blue clad man, but as he approached, he called out "Excuse me sirs, can either of you direct me to The Priest?"
Samuel doesn't look up from trying to bind a stunned attacker. "I'm a priest of Llew. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to bind this man before he awakens. With your help I might be able to finish faster."
Edward bends beside the unconscious soldier, attempting to help Samuel. "My name is Ed, what can I do to help?" he asks.
The priest of Llew replies, "I'm Samuel Nevel. Here's some rope. You can probably tie him up tighter than I can so why don't you do the tying?" Samuel hands him the rope. "What did you need?"
As Edward proceeds with tying the soldier, he replies to Samuel, "There is a Dwarf, named Dorin, back in the clearing. He is travelling with a young woman who seems to need a healer's arts. She hasn't stirred for a long time."
Samuel pauses for moment. "I will do what I can, but it may be beyond my meagre abilities. Let's gather the horses, the prisoner, and anything from the dead that may be valuable or give us clues as to their motives. We can then head back to the clearing."
After wiping the blade of his sword clean of blood on the plain cloak of the corpse in front of him, Lufka rises slowly to his feet, steadying himself by resting his sword against it's armoured chest. Turning slowly towards Samuel and the new stranger he falters "Can you be sure to tie them tightly, we don't know what they will do when wakened." After a short pause, he takes a deep breath that seems to reflate his spirit and hefting the blade held in his right hand, strides forward. "Maybe we shouldn't let them wake" he says with renewed purpose. "Why should we let these hideous monsters live when they have no respect for our lives?"
He strides toward the creature being bound, a short sword held menacingly in both hands. Brushing past the new stranger, he uses the blade in his left hand to flip the face plate of the creature open, and asks "Someone tell me why I shouldn't kill this thing now."
The bard is astounded to notice the strange colour of the soldiers skin. As the face plate falls open, the trio are greeted by a face with red-orange skin. A large blue nose is is the major distinguishing feature in the face, but protruding between it's lips are several very sharp though very yellow looking teeth. The smell from it's breath is powerful enough to cover the smell of the fresh blood decorating the robes of the priest!
From his hiding place in the bush, Shaq'il could finally take in what he had missed while he had been moving from his position in the tree. He now realized the reason that the sounds of fighting had finished was that battle was over.
Rising from his position, and packing his sling away, Shaq'il moved from his position and toward the battle scene beyond the tree line to assist in securing the bodies and their possessions.
Shaq'il called out, "Anyone need any help, heh, heh.?"
Sh'andra slowly looked about her, not really seeing anything that surrounded her, but somehow understanding that the battle had finished. Her head in a fog, she gazed down at the ground beneath her feet. Quizzically she cocked
her head to one side, as she watched in amazement a crimson stain slowly slide down the blade of her axe. A sudden, furious wave of panic overtook her and she quickly checked herself for wounds that might have produced said
stain. Being satisfied that she was indeed whole, her gaze returned to her blade. 'Strange... she thought, there's a foot there.' She raised her gaze, and was confronted with the twisted remains of her fallen opponent. Blank, unseeing eyes bored into her and she collapsed, not believing what she had done.
Caught up in his own battle Ulf pays little attention to any of the comings and goings of the rest of the group. His little face screwed in concentration he tries to pre-empt his stronger enemies next move. Taking a stance that gives the impression that he is lining up a huge blow at his enemies mid-section he makes his move. Relying on the fact that his enemy has just nearly skewered him on his spear like one of those lolly-pops you get at the town fair he rolls forward towards the mans legs, aiming for the middle of the mans stance he, at the end of his roll, targets a mighty thrust up into the mans groin with all his strength put behind the blow. His blade struck true, and Ulf was rewarded by a gush of dark arterial blood gushing from his enemies wound and covering the little gnome in it's liquid glory. His foe let out a high pitched scream as Ulf twisted the blade further into the flesh, before he withdrew, getting a further drenching as the warriors life-force voided itself with great pumping spurts. The enemy crumpled to the ground, great hairy fingers clutching at the wound in a vain and ever weakening attempt to stem the crimson flow.
Sardonicus arrived back at the gnomes position just in time to see the finale to the melee. Extending his hand to help the gore shrouded Ulf to his feet, Sardy grinned. "Truly you must be the most devout follower of Tuatha I have met, for only his most ardent followers still believe in bathing in the blood of their fallen enemies!!!" With a laugh he hoists his little friend to his feet.
Dorin was in a dilemma, he didn't want to leave his ward but felt guilty over not helping out in the battle and now the din of the fight had ended. Best to stay put, he thought, if the battle has gone badly then the enemy will come to me. If not the rest will return, and who knows Baldin might be with them. He hoped Baldin wouldn't be disappointed with him, he just wasn't feeling hisself, what with the night he'd just had and looking after the human. He'd heard of Dwarves whose first experience of battle had been to much. They were known to suffer from a condition known as "Krakoop", their minds never recovering from the horrors they'd witnessed, surely that hadn't happened to him? He just didn't want to leave the human to the dangers of the woods! He gripped his axe as if seeking reassurance from the weapon. Strangely enough he did feel better and his indecision settled, Dorin looked at the group of children and the woman who was with them. Although he couldn't understand her tongue, for she was speaking in Human, he gathered she was telling the children a story, to calm them down. Her hypnotic voice seemed to ease his fears too......
Isiseris, thankful for no more interruptions continued her tale to the children :-
"There was in a far off country a rich old lord who lived in a great castle by the sea. So great was his wealth that one wouldst think he should be the happiest of men, yet his heart was sorely troubled. His daughter, who he didst value above all his wealth, had perished giving birth to a female child, and so great was his anguish that he swore he wouldst never look upon her face for all the days of his life. Instead, he sat himself in a high tower next to a window looking out to sea and didst spend his days weeping, and so many tears did he shed that they cut through the very stone beneath his feet and formed a small river that flowed to the sea.
Though the child didst grow up within the castle walls, hers was truly a wretched existence. Only the old nurse wouldst give her scraps of food from the kitchen or rags for clothing when no one was watching,. The young girl was mocked most fiercely by all the other servants who didst give her the name “Tattercoats”, and counted as her only friend a gooseherd who wouldst make her forget her miserable state by playing tunes upon his pipe. Oh how she danced, albeit with geese as her partners, but she still didst dare to dream of a better day when a handsome prince wouldst hold her in his arms as they danced.
And it came to pass one day that the King didst travel through the country, and in so doing decreed a ball was to be held in a nearby town. The old lord didst receive an invitation, and ceased for a time his endless flood of tears as he made ready to honor the King‘s request. News of the ball didst reach Tattercoat’s ears as well, and so sorely did she want to attend that she prevailed upon the old nurse to beg the lord’s permission on her behalf. Once, twice, even thrice did the nurse ask that his granddaughter be allowed to go, but her words were in vain. She realized the lord’s heart wouldst not be moved, and so it was with a heart heavier than stone that she went to tell Tattercoats of the king’s decision."
As Shaq'il was seemingly being ignored by everyone near him, he decided that he may as well search some of the bodies that were not currently being attended to. Looking around, he noticed one of the bodies that had been gutted earlier was near him, and headed toward it. Reaching the body Shaq'il soon noticed that it smelt like the Pit of Hell, even without the additional stink created by all the blood and gore created by the fact it's throat looked as if it had been slit wide open. The thing had been bled dry like a butchered pig. After beginning his search of the body, Shaq'il quickly realised that even though this creature had moved like a human, this beast was far uglier than any human he had come across, and that's saying something! But none of that was important. What was important, however, was what it was carrying and if it would be any use to him. With a grin on his face, he eagerly continued his looting in earnest. However, his intial good cheer faded slightly as after checking the body thoroughly, he found nothing. He looked around. To his right was another body, the twin shafts of arrows protruding from it. To his left was another of the mailed warriors, looking rather chopped up and the inert form of the female warrior from the clearing. Not far from them was another dead mail clad form. Looking further down the hill he saw the priest was busy a the feet of one of the enemy whilst two fellows he didn't recognise we busy having a discussion over body of another. Near these three were what appeared to be the bodies of four horses, several other horses were stood around, cropping at the grass. Further down the hill, the gnome and the big human too were having a discussion, but they were too far away for Shaq to hear. On the ground, were three bodies near to them. Shaq could also see the retreating figure of a rider disappearing down the hill, practically back on the road.
Samuel ignored Lufka's question, moving on to the last of the duo taken out by his spell. Tying first the creatures hands,he then moved down to tie it's feet together.
Edward looked at the young man who'd just revealed the face of the enemy to him. To his last question, he responded "For now, we should keep a few alive for questioning. After that..." Edward finishes with a shrug. "You're right," concedes Lufka, "but we should finish this quickly." Nodding his head in agreement Edward moved over to where the priest was, helping him secure the feet of their captive. As they finished tying the final knot on the ropes binding the soldier Edward pleaded with Samuel, "Can we please return to the others now, and help Reb.. ,er the girl with Dorin?"
Sardonicus grinned at the gnome again, who was busy trying to remove some of the gore covering him with a rag produced from a pouch. All he suceeded in doing was smearing more of the blood over himself. "I think we should leave here quite fast," said the big warrior, "I'll see if I can get us some transport!". With that he went to round up some of the horses near to them. Approaching a big grey, he easily caught it, grabbing it's reins. The creature looked at him with tired eyes, stepping close and nuzzling him in the shoulder. Sardonicous started to check the horse over.
Isiseris continued on with her tale, the children around her seemingly mesmerised by her voice. The dwarf too, she noticed, seemed to be listening in, though trying not to show it. "The old nurse searched high and low for the young maiden, but Tattercoats was not to be found. Noticing a scrubwoman laughing when she called out her name, the nurse grabbed her ear and twisted it until she yelped in pain. "Ah, ye heartless witch!" the nurse screeched into the other ear. "Ye have seen the young Tattercoats, I reckon, and chased her, ye and the rest of yer worthless lot." "Ay, we didst see the young trollop, and surely we did what must be done with all such gutter trash. Out the door with her, and good riddance too. Mayhap thou shall find her among the geese and swine where such as she belongs!" Indeed, Tattercoats had sought out her only friend to spill bitter tears, but before she couldst speak, he didst begin to play on his pipe and urged her to follow him into the city to see the King and all the fine things. "One ne’er knows how the mysterious workings of fate may show themselves," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, and surely enough, no sooner had he spoken than a handsome prince riding on horseback didst approach them. He urged his steed to ride around them so as to continue on to the city, when he looked back over his shoulder and quickly pulled the reins, wheeling around to face them. "Kind sir," he began, addressing the gooseherd. He suddenly jumped off his mount, dropped to one knee directly in front of Tattercoats, and began, almost stammering, "Fairest maiden, dost thou believe in miracles, or love at first sight? Until this moment, by sooth, I held no stock in either, but surely I have now been stricken by one and do fervently believe in both. I go to the city to inform my father the King who I wouldst have as wife, and only now I know what I shall-what I must say." Tattercoats was stunned to silence, but found her voice in time to say that she had no place among such fine people in her wretched state. The prince-with the gooseherd’s assent-insisted she must attend. She tried to protest yet again when the gooseherd began to play his flute, and Tattercoats found herself promising that she would honor his request. Canst thou imagine the sight of the ragged young maiden, the gooseherd, and the flock appearing amongst the lords and ladies at the ball? Perceive thee how the guests were all atwitter when the prince didst stand up and announce that this ragamuffin was his one true love and that no one else would be his wife? And then, the gooseherd didst play upon his pipe one last time, and in so doing the rags Tattercoats wore were transformed into a shimmering gown, and the geese into pages and handmaidens. The gooseherd soon vanished from sight, and like the old lord who even more sullenly returned to his castle by the sea, was never seen again. The maiden who had been so rudely called Tattercoats-she surely didst live in splendor and luxury for all her days. And that, dear ones, is her story, and ye wouldst do well to remember that even in the meanest of times, one canst ne'er know how fate may lend a kindly hand." As she finished, the children clapped their hands with glee and called out for more. Their noise rang loud and clear in the early morning air. |
