Hey, thanks guys! I know this is a) overdue and b) too short, but we're getting there.
The Golden Arrow
“Out!” screamed the bartender. He was going into hysterics. “Out, out, out and I never want to see you again as long as I live!”
“Kick down one little door…” muttered Workerdrone. At least most of the group had had a goods night sleep. They were now clutching their things, having been kicked out by an insane bartender. The man walked back inside, muttering things like “property damage” and “so much stabbing.”
“Right!” said Barbarossa. “Meeting! Now, we’ve just been given a job. One that pays a lot. We have to kill a dragon.”
“What?” said Bjorn. The statement was echoed by several people.
“I know that sounds difficult, but we’re dwarves! And men,” he said, looking at the few people in the group over 5 foot. “If we cannot do this, then what are we? Nothing! Most of us fought goblins and struggled from across the sea to get to where we are today!”
“What?” said Urist, confused.
“Nothing. And we do this, this brave deed, to protect the people of this nation! To save lives now and in the future! But more importantly, we do this colossal deed, this slaying of a living legend, for a shit load of money!”
Everyone cheered, and Bardbeard and Kogan took over, as they began to move out.
“Wait, Olon,” called Barbarossa.
“Yes?” said Workerdrone, trudging up.
“Here,” said Barbarossa, unslinging Bromrek’s from his back. “Bromrek left. I don’t know where. But he left his axe. I think you want it.”
“Ah,” said Workerdrone, shouldering his two axes and taking the one proffered. “Thank you. Though it does look like it might need some polishing before I could really be proud of it,” He gave it a few swings. “Good balance. Let’s go.”
The troupe trudged off.
“I like to think I look war torn, you smug youngin’. Don’t make me chop off your arm.”
Workerdrone’s yell of surprise carried quite a long way.
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Topic: To venture north, into Hell: Othtar Noloc, world at war (Read 106592 times)