The Butchering of the Baron's Brutes

The Never Ending Quest - Episode 25562

More of a clutz, that is. His horse was none too bright either. The shock waves from Jernicus's spell sent the beast into a madness, and the lad lost all control over his thunderstruck ride. Both went tumbling off of a dizzying precipice to the side of the road. No one seemed to care. Jernicus had, by this point, taken the horse of the fallen leader, furthering their odds of winning this bloody wayside brawl.

3 down, 5 to go, mused a grim but determined Fred. This is as easy as I thought it would be! Don't these westerners have any idea who we are!?

The next figure to advance on the trio was the hulking bastard who had joined up with them on the road. His horse wobbled forward in it's best attempt at a gallop, nearly stumbling head over several times under the man's bulk."You're gonna pay fer this!" he roared, feebly thrusting his javelin at Fred as he came within range. Again, the Allarian's sword flew through the air, cutting the javelin cleanly in two. The fat bastard's mouth conveniently gaped in surprise, just as a dagger went flying through the air and into his brain - via the open orifice. A sickening amount of blood gushed out in an unrelenting torrent from his mouth as he crashed to the ground in a great heap. His horse seemed much relieved at the loss of it's burden. Fred smirked, he had always been adept with a throwing dagger, that's why he tended to carry a number of them when he travelled. They were his calling card, as it were, along with his broadsword. 4 down!he thought.This is too easy!

Jarvis of Gala was an experienced man of the world, but this much violence still made him squeamish. He wisely maintained a low profile, and finally ducked behind some underbrush beside the road as the carnage played out. This was his method of doing things, he was not a knight or a sorcerer.

But the violence, for the most part, ended there. The remaining soldiers were so dumbfounded by the sudden death of their commanders that they were sent into disarray. They retreated without so much as raising their swords, into the rainy gloom and gathering mists, back toward the unpleasant lowlands. "We can't let them get away!" Fred protested, urging Jernicus to follow after them with him. "Come! They'll sound an alarm!"

"We aren't slaughterers, Frederigo," the sorcerer replied frankly. "There's no reason to hunt them down, let us continue our journey."

"Besides," Jarvis said, reappearing in such a way that the two hadn't noticed he had even hidden. "We are but a day's walk from the hills that surround Goldstadt! We'll be there before the next nightfall!"

"Well, alright," Fred grumbled...



Burgomaster Bob walked along a pleasant garden walkway with his friend and advisor, Slyfer. "Memories, they are sweet but fragile things," the Burgomaster said wistfully, Slyfer nodding his head as if he really cared. "My grandfather used to say that they are the building-blocks of our souls and the fabric of our lives. But they are temporal, they should be cherished. Many things can affect them; the passage of the seasons, the endless cycle of time. Traumatic events. Denial and bitterness. Tequila."

"That was my sister that said that, and I always thought cotton was the fabric of our lives," Slyfer yawned languidly. "Do you have a point?"

"Yes. Maybe. I think I did, at some point, but now I forget. But there you have it. Maybe that was my point. Memories are fragile..."

"Great. Thanks for the tip."

"Er, no problem Slyfer. Anytime."

There was really no point to all of that. Moving on to other events...



  1. That night, as a full moon rises...

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