We probably ate him.
The Golden Arrow
They were walking back. Oldbeard had just finished explaining the ‘handcannon’ he had crafted.
“Bloody hell,” said Kogan. “Doesn’t it misfire?”
“Occasionally,” said Oldbeard. “But only occasionally.”
As they entered the bar, Oldbeard was immediately set upon by a breathless human, who grasped him by the hand and shook it, vigorously.
“Well done, good sir dwarf! I saw you deal with those fiends! Well done!”
Oldbeard was thrown off balance. People weren’t meant to be this polite…
“Thank ye,” he said, gruffly, before shaking the man off. The man bustled past him and out the door.
“Bloody sycophants,” grunted Oldbeard.
“You are aware, Oldbeard, that that’s the first person you don’t know that’s ever given you some respect?” said Bardbeard.
“Shut up,” muttered Oldbeard. They spied Barbarossa in the corner of the bar, sitting with two dwarves that they didn’t know. They walked over.
“And what weapon do you prefer to use Fil?” Barbarossa asked one of the dwarves.
“Sword,” replied Fil. He looked rather bedraggled and extremely young. “I’m also handy with a mace, but I’d prefer not to use it.”
“What’s going on here Barbarossa?” asked Bardbeard.
“Recruiting,” replied Barbarossa. “We’re famous now, apparently. These two lads knew where we were and came to join up. Roving mercenaries I’d assume?” he looked at the two dwarves, who nodded.
“So, Fil, what combat experience do you have?” asked Barbarossa.
Fil looked up at them and the firelight was reflected in his eye, causing him to look almost demonic.
“The demon war,” he whispered. Barbarossa’s mouth dropped open.
Olatphisphar, the west, almost a year ago
The dwarf marched up to his captain and saluted.
“Sir! We’ve discover this lad, hiding in the food stocks, sir!” he threw a young dwarf to the ground in front of the captain.
“Is that so?” asked the captain. He knelt slightly, so he was nose to nose with the young dwarf. “What were you doing in there lad?”
“I was looking around,” the dwarf replied. “My mother abandoned me here. I don’t really know where I am.”
“Your mother abandoned you?” said the captain, shocked. “Why would she do such a thing?”
“My father was killed in a goblin ambush. My mother put me on a boat with one of the family servants. We were floating for an age. Eventually, the food because mouldy and some of it was poisoned. The man tasked with protecting me died eating it. I jumped ship and I’ve been looking for food ever since.”
“Well, if that’s not a story and a half,” said the captain. He appeared to ponder something for a moment. “How are you with a sword lad?”
The dwarf brightened up. “Pretty good, sir. My father used to spar with me every day.”
“Well, that’s good. Lad, how’d you like to join up with us?”
“That… I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” said the young dwarf.
“Well what’s your name lad?”
“Fil, sir. Fil Swordstab.”
A few months later and Fil was a part of Karis’ Fifth spears, an assortment of sworddwarves, axedwarves and crossbowdwarves. They were tasked with defending the trading hub of Olatphisphar, a human city. Fil was a respected soldier, with some skill with a blade. But, like many other cities, the place was sieged. The garrison could not hold out and they were forced to retreat to the only place available. The sea. Fil’s boat was clipped with a fireball and he was knocked unconscious and sent drifting for several days. By some unearthly luck, he washed up on the shore of Othtar Noloc and spent a few months doing mercenary work.
The Golden Arrow
“And then I heard of your group and how you’d supposedly come from another part of the world and I put two and two together,” finished Kil. Barbarossa was suddenly aware his mouth was still open. He shut it.
“Well, you guessed right. Okay, you’re in. Head upstairs and introduce yourself. Welcome to Eli Eremo.” He shook Kil’s hand. Kil left up the stairs. Barbarossa turned to the other dwarf.
“I assume you’re from Othtar Noloc?” he asked. The dwarf nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Kat. I’m an engineer,” Kat replied.
“Oh? Any weapons skills?” asked Barbarossa.
“Not really. I can handle a crossbow. Not well, but well enough.”
“Well, you could certainly help out Oldbeard. You’re in. Head upstairs.”
They shook hands and Kat moved up the stairs. Barbarossa looked up at them.
“Okay,” he said. “What’s–”
“Twenty for the gibbet and not a penny less!” came a cackle. They turned around. There was a dwarf coming through the door. His beard was black and matted, his hair the same and, whilst in great shape, he exuded the demeanour of someone rather odd. This was further reinforced by his eyes, which twinkled and gave no small doubt that the dwarf was mad.
“Yes?” said Bardbeard. “Who’re you?”
“I be well there’s a pretty thing lad! And no mistake there’s a nice walnut in it for ye if me name’s Crazyface nuncle!”
“Um,” said Kogan. “He’s insane.”
“Oh psht,” said Oldbeard dismissively. “We had far more insane people in the good old days. Why, I remember this one man, Felcodonius, crazy as a bag of cats and a banana, and banana’s are pretty crazy, which is why when we were on the banana standard…” Once he’d started there was no stopping him. About twenty or so minutes later, Oldbeard concluded his story. “And the tree bark became sentient and took dominance over the kingdom of the carrots.” Barbarossa lifted his head from the table. He sighed, a sound matched by all the other dwarves save one.
“Hey,” said Kogan. “Look at Crazyface, or whatever his name is.”
Crazyface was sitting, looking at Oldbeard with rapt attention, an expression akin to awe on his face.
“That was the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard!” he cried, and suddenly his eyes were as sharp as daggers.
“Oh, are you sane now?” asked Barbarossa, suspiciously. The moment he began speaking, Crazyface’s eyes dulled again.
“As a blueberry bush, so too goats chocolate rain. Nuncleuncleuncleuncle…” said the dwarf, before collapsing into a fit of giggles.
“Oh sod this,” said Workerdrone. He grabbed Crazyface by the arm. Six or seven very busy seconds later and he was flat on his face, Crazyface’s hands raised in a defensive position. Kogan was roaring with laughter. Workerdrone bounded to his feet.
“Shut up you ignorant bastard. I’m going to kill this little shit,” he growled, moving towards Crazyface but Barbarossa put a hand on his arm.
“No,” he said. “He seems to want to follow us and if he can throw you onto your face in a second–”
“He surprised me,” interrupted Workerdrone.
“Fine, but if he can do it in the first place, he might be useful. You want to come with us?” he asked the dwarf. Crazyface stared back.
“Do you want to come with us?” asked Oldbeard.
“Oh, of course,” said the dwarf immediately.
“Well, that’s settled,” said Kogan. “Now, Barbarossa, those men we killed were after us because we apparently have gotten some kind of contract from the warlord without our knowledge. It’s a good one, but it’ll be difficult.”
“Well, at least he’s not asking us to kill a dragon,” chuckled Barbarossa.
“Oh, so you do know?” said Kogan. Barbarossa’s head hit the table.
“I swear,” he mumbled. “If I live to 1200, I’ll never learn to keep my mouth shut.” He looked up. “Alright, get everyone down here now.”
“Don’t worry about it lad,” said Oldbeard. “I’ve got to show you this! I think you’ll like it,” he reached for his belt. He froze, before patting himself down furiously. “Shit”
“What is it?” asked Barbarossa.
“That bastard who congratulated me on the way in,” said Oldbeard, turning red with rage. “He’s stolen it. The Godly Swords have my handcannon.”
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Topic: To venture north, into Hell: Othtar Noloc, world at war (Read 106659 times)