[Pestilence] Part 3 - Mercenaries, Paladins, & Pixies
Book Mage
Odin deModiay John DuPree: book...@xprt.net
Klaud BarkBash
Will the Pixie Brandan Whearty: bf...@dana.ucc.nau.edu
Marcy Maude
Rebeka Caroline Lutes: carol...@home.com
Bergeron Ryan Thomason: noc...@hotmail.com
Mouse
Bardos
Lethe Greg Charles: infe...@hades.inspired.net.au
Sethelde
Ancillary story lines: [Mercenaries] Final Post
[Will the Pixie] - The Return
[Marcy Maude] - Illusions & Orcs
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
[Bergeron & Co.]
As the city came into view, Bardo started to get even more excited than
he already was, and began chattering incessantly. "I've been here
before, with my dad, but that was a long time ago, and I don't remember
it very well, but I remember that there were always all sorts of
strange people all around, like wizards and warriors and stuff like
that, but my dad wouldn't let me talk to any of them because I was too
young and he made me stay in the cart when he went to the stores and
stuff, and we only went by the Dragon's Inn, but we didn't go in, he
said that it was full of, of....umm....dis...disre.....um....I don't
know what word he said."
His face fell a bit, until Mouse helped him out. "Disreputable,
perhaps?" Bergeron was even more impressed with Mouse since they
picked up Bardo. He was never really sure how to act around children,
even ones on the verge of growing up, but Mouse had taken Bardo under
his wing, and Bardo had taken to Mouse just like a big brother. It was
certainly making this easier. Bardo became amusing instead of annoying
with Mouse there. He grinned again as Bardo continued.
"Yeah, that's it!" He smiled, looking back at Mouse. "Wow. This is
really neat. Are we going to the Dragon's Inn, Bergeron?"
Without looking back, Bergeron grinned again and answered. "Yup,
that's right. Yer gonna see what's b'hind that door today. An' don'
worry none, Bardo. Not ever'body there is disreputable." He looked
back with the grin still on his face. "Jus' most of 'em." They were
nearing the edge of town by that point. "We're not goin' straight to
th' Inn first, though. We gotta side trip t'make." He looked back at
Mouse. "We should prolly check in wi' Brandos before we do anything
else. I doubt he's got anything for us, but y'never know."
Mouse just looked nervous. He was obviously uncomfortable to be back
in Montfort so soon after he thought he would be leaving it. He began
to sink lower in the saddle, trying to hide his face in hopes that no
one would recognize him. He was eager to make his fresh start, and as
far as he was concerned, coming back here was only backtracking. But,
he reminded himself, he was not the one in charge. Bergeron knew what
he was doing, and when he thought about it, Mouse knew that this was
probably their best course of action. Knowing that didn't mean that he
had to like it, though.
Their trip through town was uneventful. Bardo gawked at everything and
everybody, often forgetting to continue his running commentary. Mouse
had to smile. He had decided that he would keep an eye on Bardo to
make sure he stayed out of trouble, which also had the side benefit of
giving Mouse something constructive to do. He had never had any kind
of real responsibility before, and was finding that he liked it. He
began pointing out features of the town to Bardo, telling him tales of
the town's history. Bardo became thoroughly entranced by Mouse's
storytelling. Before either of them knew it, Bergeron had halted.
"Well, here we are." They sat in front of the Montfort Mercenary
Guild. It looked exactly how it did when they last left it. 'Good,'
Bergeron thought to himself. 'The Tillak didn't do anything here. I'm
sure Brandos is gonna be surprised to see us again so soon.' He
grinned at the possibility of surprising his old friend again. He tied
Daffodil up in front, then walked up the steps. Mouse helped Bardo
down and they followed.
Bergeron entered without knocking. He was entitled to do that again,
now that he had a company of his own. He allowed himself a wry
smirk. 'Some company,' he thought. 'In existence for just a day or
two, and we've already lost half of our members and we haven't even run
into anybody yet.' There wasn't anybody visible in the antechamber, so
he told Mouse and Bardo to have a seat while he went to find Brandos.
He was just about to enter Brandos' office when the door opened.
Brandos' face was the very picture of surprise, causing Bergeron to
burst out laughing. "Hawhawhawhaw!!! Ye should see yer face!" Brandos
recovered quickly, however. "What the hell are you doing back here so
soon? I thought you were running from that Tillak! And where are
Carmen and Dean? And who's the kid with the sword?"
Bergeron sat down, still chuckling. "Well, it's not really that long
of a story, but I'm gonna shorten it anyway. Dean decided t'make life
easier fer me by takin' off on his own t'deal wi' the Tillak on his own
terms, an' Carmen decided t'keep 'im outta trouble. So Mouse an' me
came back an' ran across lil' Bardo here. His sword is something else,
even _I_ can tell that." He turned to Bardo. "Tell 'im about yer
adventures, kiddo."
Bardo, wide-eyed, swallowed and nodded. "Well, I found my sword under
some bushes near home, and I thought that maybe some warrior had lost
it or something, so I decided to bring it to Montfort so I could either
find the owner or sell it, but some bandits attacked me, but they got
real clumsy and started falling down all over and hitting their heads
on rocks an' stuff, and I fell down and didn't really see anything, but
when I got up they were all on the ground and bleeding, and I didn't
even do anything, so I thought maybe the sword was magic had something
to do with that, so I thought maybe I'd keep it and become a mighty
warrior, and that's when Mouse an' Bergeron found me, so I came with
them to Montfort, an' I'm gonna join Bergeron's company!" He said that
last part with defiance, as he hadn't mentioned it yet to Bergeron, and
wasn't sure how the big man would take it.
Bergeron merely chuckled at the boy's forwardness. He amazed himself.
There was a time, not so long ago, when he wouldn't have even tolerated
the presence of a child. Now he was going to let one join his
company. He shook his head in amazement.
Bardo, seeing Bergeron shake his head and chuckle, took it to mean that
Bergeron was saying no. Tears began to form in his eyes, but he was
determined not to let them fall. "I'll be a good person to add! I can
take care of myself, an' I can help around camp an' stuff! An' I got
my sword!" He was nearly shaking with fear and anger.
Bergeron, seeing this, held his hands up in a peacemaking
gesture. "Hey now, nobody said that ye couldn't come with us. But
what about yer family, eh? Do they know where ye are? And bein' a
merc ain't all it's cracked up t'be. It's a hard life, lemme tellya.
Better get used ta sleepin' on th' ground. An' ye could end up
gettin' killed too, y'know. But if ye really wanna come with us, I
ain't gonna say no. Believe me, I already know ye'd be a valuable
asset." His mind was already thinking about the roles that a child
would play in a merc company.
Brandos watched the entire display with amazement in his eyes. He
knew Bergeron well enough to know what he was thinking. "Are you
sure, Bergeron? Because I might have a job for you already, and it
sounds like it could be quite dangerous."
At that, Bergeron turned towards Brandos. "What? Ye've already got us
a job? Well speak up man, tell me about it!"
Brandos held up a hand. "Take it easy, Bergeron. I'm not sure you'll
want to take it. It's being offered by a dwelf, with no guaranteed
payment. Just a share of treasure found."
Bergeron thought for a moment. He had rarely had positive experiences
with dwelfs, but he wasn't prejudiced. The no guaranteed payment thing
was something to consider, but at this point he didn't really have much
choice in assignments. "Where c'n I find this dwelf? Mebbe I'll talk
to 'im an' find out a bit more about th' job. Can't be too choosy
right now, y'know?"
Brandos rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. He obviously didn't
approve, but it wasn't his choice. Bergeron knew what he was getting
into. "He said he'd be at the Dragon's Inn. Name's Odin. Shifty
looking. And I think he said that he was with a giant. Shouldn't be
too hard to spot, I would think."
Bergeron was nodding and standing up. Bardo jumped up from his seat,
excitement plain on his face, and after a moment, Mouse stood
too. "Thankee, Brandos. I know ye don't approve, but ye c'n
appreciate our position, I think. Give it time. I'll be turnin' down
jobs left an' right, an' ye'll be so sick o' me fer it that ye'll wanna
bash me 'ead in." Bergeron chuckled and extended his hand. Brandos,
grinning, took it.
"Good luck, Bergeron. If you need any outfitting, come see me. I'll
get you a discount." With that, Bergeron and his troops left Brandos
at the door of the guildhouse.
"Well, Bardo. Whatcha think?" Bergeron looked down at the youngster
with a serious look on his face.
Bardo knew what Bergeron meant. "I want to give it a try, if you'll
let me, sir. I'm not afraid." He spoke with a solemn look on his face.
Bergeron looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Ye'll follow
orders, an' without complainin' or whinin'. We'll train ye t'use that
sword o' yers, and train ye t'do other things too. An' ye'll practice
whenever ye got some free time. An' then we'll make a right good merc
outta ye." He held out his hand. "Welcome aboard, Bardo."
Bardo took Bergeron's much larger hand in his and shook it as firmly as
he could. He smiled hugely. He felt a surge of pride welling up
within him. Bergeron's eyes went from Bardo to his sword. "One last
thing, lad. We're gonna need t'get ye a proper sheath fer that, an'
mebbe strap it t'yer back so ye don' hafta carry it around like that
ever'where we go. It's a bit awkward, dontcha think?" Bardo merely
nodded.
Bergeron, noting that everything was set, nodded. "All right boys,
let's go get us a job." Mouse helped Bardo onto Daffodil's back, then
awkwardly scrambled up behind him as Bergeron took the reins and began
to lead them along the street again.
[Will the Pixie]
Even in a city like Montfort, which has seen its share of remarkable
characters, the appearance of Will the Pixie caused a stir. As his
black and yellow butterfly wings carried him toward the Dragons Inn,
passersby below gaped and pointed. Sometimes, they snickered as well.
There was no accounting for taste, Will reflected, as he skimmed over
the roof of a warehouse, then upset a sedan chair by swooping between
the legs of the porters. His iridescent green toga with orange patches
was soaked with sweat from the long flight, and the sky blue silk sword
belt was chafing horribly. Not to mention the fact that his purple and
red longsword kept digging into his ribs, although at least it was
counterbalanced by his tiny bow and quiver of milkweed shafts. To top
off the ensemble, a brown and mustard plaid fannypack rested beneath
the pixie's fanning wings. At two feet, three inches of raw trouble,
Will the Pixie had come back to take on the world. Current oddsmakers
put the payoff on the world at around 6-1.
As Will approached the Dragons Inn, a gnome driving a red and gold
painted wagon yelled, "It's a bird! It's a plane! It's colorblind!"
Will glanced back to stick his tongue out, and ran full force into one
of the expensive paned glass windows in the western wall of the Inn.
There was a substantial thud and a tiny 'oof' as the pixie stuck to the
window for a moment, then slowly slid out of view.
A few moments later, the front door creaked open, and Will the Pixie
strode inside the inn, dragging his massively injured dignity behind
him. After glaring suspiciously around the inn and waiting for
laughter, the frown disappeared from Will's face as he spied Hugh,
bartender of the Dragons Inn and one of the few humans willing to put
up with the pixie's antics. The butterfly-winged terror leaped into
the air and darted toward the bar.
Landing adroitly on the rim of a half empty ale stein, Will slid down
to use the stein as a bar stool, and hailed Hugh in his piping
voice. "I'm back!" he announced, grinning wildly. Hugh turned and
gave the pixie a puzzled frown, answering, "...and you are?" Appearing
somewhat crestfallen, Will tried again. "It's me! Will the Pixie!
I'm back from fantastic travels and strange lands with really bad
music! I'm sure if I remembered more about them, they'd be really
neato." Hugh's face broke into a broad grin. "Oh," he chuckled, "THAT
Will the Pixie. You left a bit suddenly last time, but we're glad to
have you back nonetheless. What'll you have...another Dark Taint,
perhaps?"
Will appeared genuinely horrified. "No way," he declared firmly. "From
now on,..." Hugh interrupted gently, "You aren't going to drink
because you cause enough trouble when you're sober?" A tiny frown
creased Will's unlined forehead as he thought for a moment. "Nope.
Definitely not that. I'll stick to faerie liquor for now, though,
because I'm tired of waking up in strange realities. Speaking of
strange, have you seen Tessa? We have a game to finish." The
bartender shook his head regretfully. "Can't say that I have, Will.
You could always ask around, though." The back room door opened and a
nine foot tall wall of fire lumbered out, ducking to avoid scorching
the door frame, then dodging surprisingly quickly as a helmeted giant
rushed passed. "By the way, you might want to get out of Blaze's drink
before he gets back." The bartender added with a meaningful glance at
the approaching fire elemental.
"Thanks, Hugh. You're always a big help." Will gushed as he earnestly
shook Hugh's hand, though the human's palm engulfed the pixie's arm
nearly to the elbow. With that, he turned and flew off into the crowd,
without a backward glance at the fire elemental who was now bearing
down on him with an angry expression. Hugh shook his head, and wiped
at the spotless bar with a damp rag.
Asking around...that had gotten Will in trouble before, but he had no
other choice. He had to find Tessa to finish their game. The sharp
eyed pixie's gaze settled on a well dressed man sitting alone at the
table the giant had just abandoned. It seemed as good a place to start
as any.
Will dropped out of the rafters and landed lightly on the table in
front of the stranger. Drawing himself up to his full two foot three
inch height, he extended his right hand toward the stranger's left
nostril as he introduced himself. "Hi! I'm Will the Pixie, I was just
wondering..." Will peered more closely at the strange man. On closer
examination, his pointed ears and strange features betrayed no trace of
a human heritage. "...what you are, exactly?" he finished with a burst
of enthusiasm. One of the perks of adventuring was meeting some of the
most interesting beings on Iffrean. Suddenly aware of the personal
nature of his question, Will blushed to a shade which matched his sword
and added, "Not that it's any of my 'damn beeswax,' I guess."
[Odin]
The flute playing dwelf jumped out of his chair when the massive insect
dropped onto his table. Odin briefly wondered if the inn's wards would
be activated if he cut this bug in two. As he calmed down a little and
took a second look at the invader, Odin realized it wasn't an insect at
all but a small winged man nearly half his size. It wasn't often the
small rogue met someone even shorter than himself, other than the
entire dwarven nation that is. Odin was about to greet his unexpected
visitor, when the pixie beat him to it and stuck out his small hand
nearly punching the dwelf on his slightly oversized nose.
Odin smiled at the pixie's excited chatter. It occurred to the little
rogue that this is what he must appear like to humans. With only a few
rapid sentences gushed out of his mouth, Odin took a liking to the
pixie and recognized him as a kindred spirit of sorts. "Pleased to
meet you, friend. I am Odin deModiay, adventurer extraordinaire,
master swordsman, master locksmith, protector of the just, and defender
of the innocent. Beeswax? Well to settle your large sense of
curiosity, I'm a dwelf, that is half dwarf and half elf. Not too
surprising that you hadn't seen many like me. Dwelves are kind ‘a rare
since dwarves and elves hardly get along. They're both worthless, if
you ask me --"
Odin noticed an interesting party walk in, one in particular caught his
attention. "Pixie Will, I have some business to attend to, but don't
go away, or come back soon, I would like to talk with you some more --
Or that, sure … you can sit in Klaud's tankard, but I'd get out before
my oversized friend gets back. He's likely to swallow you whole and
not notice the extra meat."
[Bergeron & Co.]
Shortly they arrived at the Dragon's Inn. Bergeron led Daffodil to the
stables next door and offered the stablehand a silver piece. "Either
of ye hungry? I know I am. Might as well eat while we're here,
right?" Bardo nodded enthusiastically, but was quiet. His face and
eyes belied his excitement, however. He was finally going to go inside
the Dragon's Inn!
Mouse's expression was nearly the complete opposite of Bardo's. He was
dreading a reunion with the other regulars of the Inn. He wore the
look of a man walking to his execution.
Bergeron led them into the Inn. The sights and sounds of the common
room were nearly overbearing for Bardo at first. Gradually he began to
take in everything, his head whipping from sight to sight so fast that
Mouse worried he might hurt himself. For himself, the familiar sights
and sounds of the Inn looked and sounded like a funeral. Everybody he
knew was here, and Hugh had already seen him and scowled. He steeled
himself and led Bardo to an empty table as Bergeron went up to the bar
to talk to Hugh.
Bardo took no notice of Mouse's mood. "Isn't this great, Mouse? The
Dragon's Inn! I've always wondered what it looked like inside! This
is like heaven!"
Mouse smiled weakly. "Yep. Sure is. Glad you like it, Bardo."
Just then Bergeron walked up to the table. "We got three o' th'
specials comin' to us, and Hugh pointed out our potential employer."
Bergeron pointed across the room at a dwelf sitting at a table and
playing a flute. "I'm gonna go talk to 'im. Don' touch my food!"
He walked up to the dwelf and cleared his throat noisily. "I hear ye
be wantin' t'hire a merc group. Care t'tell me a bit about what yer
plans are?" He sat down without asking and offered his hand. "Name's
Bergeron. Brandos sent me. Shall we talk?"
[Odin]
Flute playing was something Odin picked up very young. He considered
it to be one of his few elven gifts, for it allowed anonymity while
being in the center of attention. The dwelf could long stare at nearly
anyone while playing his silver flute, but do the same over the rim of
your glass and it is near certain to cause a fight. Playing as such,
Odin thoroughly studied everyone in the inn, taking their measure, and
their worth, on his terms.
When the large man entered the inn, he immediately attracted Odin’s
scrutiny. Fact is, everyone caught the dwelf’s attention, but the big
man kept it, for there was something different about him. Like most of
the adventurers here, he looked experienced; his weapons were well worn
yet cared for, he had the typical scars and watchful attitude. What
set this man apart, in Odin’s estimation, was his professional
demeanor. So the little rogue was hardly surprised when Bergeron sat
down at his table and introduced himself as the mercenary leader the
guild had sent.
After setting down his flute, and before shaking Bergeron’s calloused
hand, Odin took a moment to study the man’s eyes, the mercenary could
expect no less. This man was one to expect the truth, and could deal
harshly if treated otherwise. The man appeared sharp, sharper than one
would first give him credit for. Odin decided to play this man more or
less honestly. Nobody ever warranted the complete truth.
“My name Odin deModiay, adventurer extraordinaire, master swordsman,
master locksmith, protector of the just, and defender of the innocent,”
the rogue habitually prattled shaking Bergeron’s large hand. It
occurred to Odin that he may have already gone too far, these business
types tend to be put off by his numerous self-proclaimed titles. He
now needed to balance things with a show some humility and to get on
with business in a straightforward manner. “I am afraid that I got
myself into a rather tight spot, one which you can profit from. The
story is a little long and complicated, but I will keep it as brief as
I possibly can. Do you care for a Drink?” Odin asked; he didn’t wait
for Bergeron’s answer, he simply signaled to Sera for two more drinks.
“You see, there is this certain wizard, who managed to catch my partner
& I in his trap. Now normally, magic has little or no effect on me,
but this wizard was mighty enough to overpower my considerable
resistance. Without getting into the nasty details of his curse,
suffice it to say, that to regain my freedom I must complete his quest.”
“Of the quest, I don’t know all the details, just what he told me. He
promised to give more information after I committed to it and returned
to him with my chosen assistance.” Just then their drinks arrived,
Inebridee Gold, Odin pushed one over to the mercenary and took a sip
from his own. “Now, where was I, … oh yes, the wizard’s quest.
Apparently some vile changeling has stolen a magic item from the Great
Council of Mages. This item, is not your typical magical object, if
there is such a thing. As the wizard explains it, this stolen object
is a prison of some sort for a very despicable daemon. Supposedly, the
changeling doesn’t know the full truth of what she has, and the council
wants me to take it from her before she does. The danger of the
situation, besides the changeling herself, is that the daemon is able
to exert some of its power through the object’s holder. That is why
they want me to get it, because of my high resistance and certain
skills in acquisition.”
“Now, you may wish to aid me because of the lives we will save in
securing this daemon, or for the small reward the council will
undoubtedly pay, yet there is still the issue of the changeling’s
hoard. She is notorious among wizards and the like, as a successful
thief. Her holdings are reputed to be more valuable than a king’s
ransom. When we dispose of the changeling to recover the item, her
hoard is ours to share.”
“Now what I expect from you is some added muscle, extra eyes alert for
danger, and … ahhmm, well, … our group will need some leadership
experience on the battle field, if it comes to that and it probably
will. As I said before, this imprisoned daemon still has certain
powers and it wont, … umm, … it wont like us taking it back to the
council.” Odin took a deep swallow from his glass and looked firmly at
Bergeron, time to turn the tables. “Now tell me about your self and
your mercenary group. How many soldiers do you have in your command
and do any have some special abilities? Hopefully they are more
impressive than the two you walked in here with; that one looks like a
gutter rat, and the human kid can’t be more than eleven or twelve.”
* * * * * * *
[Rebeka]
After stowing her new herbs and potions into her case, and putting her
clean laundry neatly by her empty saddlebags, Rebeka sat down cross-
legged on the floor and pulled her new cloak onto her lap. Gathering
her energies, she prepared the first stage of the enchantment that
would make the wearer appear to be a normal human girl. The first
stage was the most complicated, requiring extreme concentration. Just
as she was about to begin, she heard a loud thud, then a crash, then
what sounded like thunder pounding outside in the hall. "I knew
strange things happened here, but this is ridiculous," she mumbled
under her breath. With a sigh she put the cloak down, allowed the
energies to dissipate and rose slowly to her feet. She intended to
open her door to find out what was going on, but someone, a very large
someone, had decided to do it for her. After two quick knocks that
almost shook the door from it's hinges, the door flew open wide and the
space was immediately filled by a gigantic man on his knees, obviously
panicked, and wailing at the top of his formidable lungs.
“Help Klaud! Odin cut finger off, cut face off. Man mad, lady mad.
Klaud broke mirror, seven year bad luck. Mage fix green glow, no
hurt. Help Klaud, please!”
Rebeka quickly got over her startlement and rushed to the giant's side,
hitting him in the arm to get his attention. Despite the fact that he
probably felt it as much as she felt a fly, he stopped babbling and
looked at her curiously.
"Help Klaud? You Mage?"
She smiled slowly, he obviously wasn't too smart, "Yes I suppose I am,
what do you need help with?"
"Ahhmm, mage fix glow! Klaud no want cut finger off! No want face cut
off!"
He gestured wildly towards his face and Rebeka finally looked up at
him, she had been so busy before avoiding his flailing arms that she
hadn't noticed how horribly disfigured he was. She also noticed a
smudge of glow across the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry!" She said
with a slight laugh, "I'll take care of that." And she did, taking care
of his outstretched finger as well. "There, that's better, see?" And
she held up a small mirror for him to look at. He smiled.
"Glow gone! Magic no eat finger?” After seeing her headshake, Klaud
gratefully continued, “You nice lady. Klaud like Pretty mage."
She smiled at the compliment, "Thank you Klaud, my name is Rebeka."
"Reb-ka nice. Reb-ka come with Klaud now." The giant insisted.
Sighing, Rebeka decided she'd have to follow him. Tonight didn't seem
to be quiet at all.
[Marcy Maude]
"It's nice to be home," thought the paladin of the Green Lady as she
shut the door to the Dragons Inn behind her. The Stonefist Orcs had
been quite hospitable in their way, but after two weeks of sweating
constantly while training in their muddy village, she was glad she
couldn't smell herself. Shouldering her way through the crowd, she
made her way toward the bar. Hugh looked up from polishing the already
spotless bar and smiled. Most beginning adventurers lived very short
and action packed lives, and for an untrained farmwife to have lasted a
month as a warrior of righteousness bordered on miraculous.
She climbed the stairs slowly on tired legs, and could nearly feel the
hot bath working on her exhausted muscles. Her pitchfork dragged on
the ground as she made her way to her room, number 27. After quickly
stripping off her armor and linens, she stepped into the magically
heated tub of water and dozed off.
Marcy jumped awake to the noise of a door being battered down nearby.
Even though this was the Dragons Inn, protected by magical wardings of
astonishing power, it certainly sounded like trouble.... "No rest for
the righteous," Marcy mused as she quickly wrapped herself in a linen
towel, grabbed her pitchfork, and jogged down the hall toward the
disturbance. Finding no battle in progress, only a hideously scarred
giant leaning into an unfamiliar
woman's room, Marcy was inclined to forget about the entire incident
and return to her bath. Still, better safe than sorry. Marcy leaned
on her pitchfork in a non-threatening manner and asked, "Is everything
ok?"
[Klaud]
The ugly giant spun about in surprise, and found an older woman with a
pitch fork and towel on his blind side. “No, not o-kay. People hurt,
people die, if no stop, ... if no stop, … Klaud no re-member. Odin
tell. Come talk Odin. Talk Odin now.” Klaud gently tugged on the
mage’s wrist and started to do the same on Marcy, then stood still with
a baffled look on his half face. “Why clean barn in tow-el? Go wear
…, go wear what should wear. Come down-stairs, Odin talk. Need help
or people hurt, people die.” With that, Klaud shuffled down the hall,
pausing only to put his helm back on and to see if either of the women
were following.
[Marcy Maude]
For a moment, Marcy stared at the giant with a blank look on her face.
Then, she remembered the pitchfork and her face broke into a wide
grin. She had been laughed at before for her unique weapon, but this
was the first time she'd been mistaken for a stablehand. "Um...,
yeah. Let me put a few threads on and I'll meet you downstairs." she
said to the giant's rapidly retreating backside.
[Rebeka]
Slightly taken aback by the Giant's assumption that she would follow
him, and by the appearance of a woman with a pitchfork in her doorway.
As she closed the door behind her she realized she had no cloak, and
everyone in the common room would see her eyes. But the giant had
already reached the stairs and was beckoning for her to follow him.
With a final resigned glance back at her door, she straightened her
shoulders and continued down the stairs.
-------( To Be Continued )-------
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