The events of mid-Sandstone, 1020Staying away from the shallows was the best suggestion that could have been made after the Frogman attack. Though it meant no more oysters, it also meant no more attacks and the foursome were able to dock without incident at the Twins on the River, Atthempos. It was a smaller than Gerald had expected, and the town was incredibly run down, the streets muddy and unkempt, trash and bones tossed into the high brush.
They made their way to the inn, writing off the bartenders odd looks as just not being used to a kobold in the establishment. Drinks were brought over by one of the barmaids, who rushed to the back of the inn to talk quietly with a group of fisherfolk.
"So where we goin' from here?" Vactor asked.
"We?" Stravitch said, brows raised. "We aren't going anywhere. Well, we - Gerald and I - we are. You? I don't know where you're going."
"C'mon now, I got ya' all the way here, safe 'n sound. I spec' we - Gillysit 'n me - can tag 'long a lil' farther."
"Might as well," Gerald said with a shrug. "He's been true t'his word so far, an right handy wi' a sword."
They talked and drank for nearly an hour, and in this time no one but Gillysit noticed the fisherfolk quickly slipping out of the bar, his little form vanishing from the inn as well. Trying to get a room, and being told that the whole Inn was full up - Sorry! - the trio stepped out into the dusk.
"Should we try'n find a room elsewhere?" Gerald asked.
"No. Let's just set out, we can make camp on the road for free," Stravitch said. Vactor nodded his silent consent.
A temple loomed in the distance, it's polished walls looking newly constructed and highly out of place in this small town. It was mostly ignored though just off the main road, and without thought the travelers walked towards it, until Gillysit reappeared from the shadows. He made a few gestures to a frowning Vactor, who said, "He say we need ta' turn back, go'a 'nother way. Right quick."
Stravitch rolled his eyes, taking a couple swaggering steps forward. "And why does he say that? Because these simple folk offend his noble sensibilities? Because this temple to ... Cusal offends his mud Gods?" The Captain leaned over to pick up a long bone from the bushes, waving it to accent his point, "Because these litters cause his natural instincts to go mad?"
Gerald blanched, leaving Vactor to shake his head and answer. "Naw, 'cause that's a man's leg bone yer' wavin' 'round."
They never heard the figures approach, but in the fading light the men seemed to appear in view like wraiths. Their faces were hard and lean, and their clothing mismatched and blood stained. In the back of the group, at least one of the fisherfolk from the inn could be spotted. An obviously well fed man pushed to the front, wearing the chains of the High Priests from this area.
"We're so happy you've stopped in to our town. It's not often we get visitors anymore, most pass us by. Won't you, please step in to the temple? There's much we'd like to tell you about The God of Speech, and the things he tells us."
Many things happened at once. Gerald and Vactor turned to sprint back towards the inn, and their boat, but the way was blocked by the slowly approaching torches. Stravitch threw the leg bone without warning, one of the drunks swaying in the front dropped, his face shattered. Gillysit vanished into the night, a torch in the distance vanishing with a pained cry. The Priest held up a hand, fat fingers glittering with rings, and screamed, "Someone fetch Gentle Ben! Hurry! Get them, or it will be on of you in the stews tomorrow!"
Vactor stabbed one of the first to approach through the chest, ripping his blade free to quickly decapitate a second. Gerald fumbled with his spear, kicking one of them hard in the groin before bludgeoning him with his plated arm. Stravitch kicked the rolling head into the group to their dismay, his great maul crushing the limbs of any unfortunate enough to get within range.
A small squeak was heard off in the distance, followed by a monstrous roar. Vactor looked away from the battle, worried, the color draining from him as he saw a massive grizzly bounding up the hill between the villagers, blood frothed up on it's muzzle, a small copper shelling knife stuck into it's back. He bellowed with rage and pressed forward, hacking off hands and arms in his rage to get to the priest, to punish him for his pet Gentle Ben.
Gerald had taken a fisherman's spear to the arm, and to the leg, bleeding from shallow cuts. He was already panting hard from taking on so many, and his usual cry in battles rang out once again. "Stravitch, Vactor, we neeta' get outa' here! C'mon! Folla' me!" He kicked a drunk in the stomach, and opened anothers throat with his spear, limping through them. Stravitch held his ground momentarily, waiting until the bear was almost upon them before bringing his maul down. The blow should have crushed bone and brain, but it only knocked loose a few teeth and stunned the beast, it's eyes puffy and blackening.
His own eyes widening, Stravitch turned and fled, his stout frame bowling fisherman out of his way.
Vactor didn't retreat, his judgment clouded with rage. The priest met him in the shadow of the temple, his screams loud as the boatsman ducked under a clubbing blow from his scepter and slashed him from side to side. His entrails spilled from the wound like multicolored snakes, pooling as his feet. Gerald watched in horror as he was set upon on all sides by the villagers, their simple clubs and fishing spears rising and falling upon both the priest and their friend. He grabbed Stravitch and ran when Gentle Ben arrived on the scene, tossing still living bodies away with his great paws to get to the meat at the bottom, torrents of blood and meat spraying about him from his ferocious mauling.
A mile down the road they stopped to catch their breaths, and after traveling a mile into the woods and away from the path, they allowed themself the chance to stop for the night, still shaken from the events in the town.
***
"An' that's where we draw t' a close," Johnny said, yawning loudly.
"That's it?" Rosycats said, baffled.
"That can't be all," Guildstern complained.
"That's not an adventure at all, that's... "
"a mauling, and running away!"
Johnny laughed and rose on his stubby legs, brushing salt from their snack out of his beard. "Yer' quite right, it isn't all, it isn't all bya' longshot. But it's late. Next time we get a nights reprieve, I'll be continuin'' with this story. Dunnae worry, there's much more t' be said."
***
OOC: And with Zako's request, I'm going to close off the requests for adventure mode characters for a little bit. I'd hate to be given so many I couldn't have them all in, and if the fates of poor Vactor and Gillysit are any indication, there's a good chance the Bumbling Adventures of Gerald and Stravitch will leave plenty room for more
meatsacks friends and adventurers.
Also, for anyone interested in what exactly killed our friend Vactor, here's the picture. After killing a bunch of town guards and taking an arrow without complaint, it was this that did him in.
Author
Topic: Migrursut: What Comes After The World Ends? [Epilogue] (A Community Fort) (Read 389452 times)