Song of Blood and Blades

Minutes later his eyes fluttered open and he groaned in agony. "Oh no... I'm still alive, aren't I?"

He was floating downstream through a thick mist. "Or perhaps this is the afterlife? To float down the river like this for all eternity... that wouldn't be so bad. Hey, maybe Tarsa is around here too..."

Suddenly he heard a female scream from somewhere in the mist. "Tarsa?" He heard the scream again and then somehow he was swimming for shore, ignoring the agony of his lacerated body. He reached a sandy beach and crawled out of the water on hands and knees, then stumbled to his feet. He heard the scream again and raced around a boulder to behold a sickening sight - the denuded Tarsa being held by two brigands, one of them grasping each of her arms as she struggled, her bare breasts heaving and bouncing violently. Her hair and skin were dripping wet, but she otherwise seemed unharmed.

"What a stroke of luck, boss!" said one of the other three bandits standing close by. "Who'd have thought we would find such a comely wench washed up on shore in a desolate place like this?"

"What do we do with her, boss?" said another, cupping one of Tarsa's breasts in his hand as she screamed again. "Unless she's a virgin, I don't see the harm in having a bit of fun before we sell her. Shall I check?"

"Let go of me!" Tarsa cried. "Please, in the name of Granas, have mercy!"

The bandit punched her in the stomach, making her double over gasping. "Watch your mouth, whore! Never speak that name in front of the boss again, if you know what's good for you."

"Ah gentlemen I hate to interrupt," Fred coughed. "But you'll have to let go of the girl now."

The bandits spun about in suprise, then started laughing. "Or you'll do wot? Bleed on us to death? Har har har!"

"Fred!" Tarsa cried. "Run! Save yourself!"

"Tarsa!" Fred blinked. "Are you back to normal?"

"Shut up, bitch!" the bandit grunted, punching her in the face. She slumped over unconscious.

"Scum!" Fred said, reaching for his sword - and felt a shiver of unease as he realized it was no longer in his scabbard. Damn it, Fred thought, it must have been lost in the fall. I knew I should've invested in a scabbard strap...

"Can I shut this cretin up now, boss?" one of the bandits giggled, aiming a loaded crossbow at Fred.

"Not yet," said the boss - a huge, red-bearded mountain man equipped with a vast variety of weapons. "He amuses me. Boy, I can see by your clothing that you're a Geohound. Do you really wish to throw your life away for this girl? Are you going to waste the best years of your life serving those who mock and despise you? Our Lord, Valmar's power rumbles and wakens beneath the sleeping earth. Soon he will return and wash this world away in a tidal wave of blood and terror. Kneel, and swear your loyalty to Valmar, and I may let you live."

"Great, another religious nut," Fred sighed. "Hate to tell you this, pal but I'm not swearing loyalty to any of your magical imaginary friends, be they under the earth, high in the sky or deep in the vile caverns of your mum's arse!"

The mountain man laughed uproariously, then took an iron short sword from his belt and threw it at Fred's feet. "I like your answer. My blood tingles with anticipation! Do not disappoint me, Geohound. Kill as many of my men as you can. Let our glorious dance of blades be an offering to Valmar, and let the blood that seeps into the earth hasten his coming!"

"First mistake!" Fred grunted, rolling to one side and picking up the sword as the bandit's crossbow bolt flew past just inches from his head. In the next instant Fred was up and hurling himself at...

1. The bandit leader.
2. The bandit with the crossbow.
3. The bandits beleaguering Tarsa.

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