Trollbane - Part 12

The copse of Silver Birch trees nestled on the side of a hill, 200 yards away from the denser woodland. Moonlight played across the bark of the trees as a gentle wind swayed their branches back and forth, caught in an invisible tide. Death crouched in the copse; patient, silent, ready.

The peace of the night was disturbed by a carriage that bolted along the road that passed the copse and disappeared into the woodland. Drawn by four horses as black as the night itself and richly adorned with ornamental carvings, its oil braziers blazed a trail through the darkness. In hot pursuit came a dozen horseman. Riding hard and gaining on the carriage as it sped toward the wood. The carriage driver frantically snapped at and whipped the horses and he urged them to greater effort. They were flagging though, the chase sapping their stamina. The horsemen would catch the carriage between the copse and the woodland.

As the horseman raced passed the copse the scent of impending doom assailed the horse's nostrils. They tried to pull away from the copse, riders reining them in, but it was all for nought. The trap was sprung and the jaws of Reven’s Fang snapped shut. Arrows whistled through the air felling three of the riders as a mass of fur and muscle exploded from the copse into the midst of the onrushing riders.

Reven sat atop Fang as bolted into the horsemen, hewing his way through the first two riders he met. Fang felled the horse of another, sending the rider cartwheeling through the air. He landed with a dull crack, neck broken. The woodland now came to life as Kris, Bran and Mulder ran from the gloom of the trees, war cries being shouted. The horsemen were in disarray. More arrows were loosed into the mix as the twins got their eye in. Mulder was joined by Orwin and Agrippa who sprang from the carriage, as he raced to box in the panicked horsemen. As they joined the fray, Reven leapt from Fang’s back slashing at another horse bourne bandit with Bloodthirster. His blow landed, neatly removing the man's arm at the shoulder. Hot blood sprayed across Reven’s chest and bloodthirster drank in a storm of crimson rain. Fang was putting his unladen freedom to good use, knocking riders from horses and tearing at equine necks. Muldar crushed a man's skull with his mighty Warhammer as Agrippa disembowelled another, spilling stinking guts across the road. 90 seconds of screaming death and the horsemen were undone. Broken bodies and mewling pleas for mercy was all that remained of them. Fang ate man-flesh whilst the rest of Reven’s mercenaries gathered at the roadside awaiting the arrival of their employer.

The carriage that had sat stationary at the entrance to the woodland turned around and the horses were gently guided toward the massacre. It stopped short of the bloodshed, the driver jumping down to open the door for his master who had been ensconced within. As his master, Alderman Barrowthorne, stepped free of the carriage, the driver turned his attention to his heavy breathing horses.

Barrowthorne was elderly but still stood strong and proud as he addressed Reven, “Your gambit paid off” he stated as he settled in front of them. “I must admit the thought as putting myself up as bait did not sit well with me but my misgivings have been proved false in the most wonderful way. Your men are a credit to you, sir”. Reven gave a shallow bow, “Thank you, lord. We are well versed in dealing with bandit scum. I was confident you were never at risk”. A sideways smile cracked the old man's lips as he stepped forward to drop a heavy purse of coin into Reven’s outstretched hand. “Quite” he remarked as he stepped back. “Engleheart is in your debt. I hope you will enjoy our hospitality again before you continue your travels?”. “I believe these men have earned a drink m’Lord. We’ll escort you back into town and stay another day before pushing on”. Reven bowed again as Barrowthorne nodded, before heading back to his carriage.

Business concluded, Reven mounted Fang and led the carriage back past the copse, his men trailing behind it. The dead and dying were left for the wolves and crows.

Trollbane - Part 11

Reven had reunited with Fang at The Rest and they had said their goodbyes to Peter, leaving him a generous tip for the kindness he had shown them. As Reven approached River Rise's north gate the sun was high in the sky. Over the course of the afternoon, his men would drift toward the gate ready to continue their journey and their search for fortune. As was customary, Reven would be first to arrive and would secure a table at the closest inn to the gate. This ritual was the norm when travelling with his mercenaries; the last drink at the last inn in a city before moving on. The Harlots Arms was a huge inn and coach house, nestled against the city wall. Once upon a time, it may have served as a staging area for military forces to muster before travelling but the addition of the city's inner keeps and barracks over the years had meant it hadn't been used for military purposes in years. Well worn cobblestones spoke of the number of travellers that had walked in its courtyard, ivy climbed the stone of the inn's walls, framing the latticework windows. The courtyard was full of tables which were occupied by city dwellers and travellers from all over that were enjoying lunch and ale in the midday sun. 

Reven chose a table at the edge of the courtyard where Fang's monstrous bulk would be less of a hindrance to the patrons. The warhounds size always made it easy for the mercenaries to find Reven and it wasn't long before the twin's Kris and Bran sauntered up to the table greeting Reven and Fang in turn whilst sharing a joke. They were soon joined by Agrippa who was shaking his head as he sat down. His arrival prompted stifled laughs from the twins. "Go on", Agrippa said, "Get it over with". "Get what over with?" Reven enquired. The twins, unable to contain their hysterics any longer burst into laughter. Muldar and Orwen arrived as Kris started his tale.

"We were in some back street pub, little more than a hovel, beating a group of merchants guards at cards when in stumbles a very drunk Agrippa and no word of a lie, he had what appeared to be the ugliest woman in the history of Atla on his arm" Kris sniggered as Bran continued his brother's story. "The bar was propping him up as he ordered drinks for him and his beautiful 'female' companion". Bran delivered the word female in such a way that immediately the whole table was hooked, leaning in for more. Kris took up the telling, "We watched in horror as Ag's new friend slipped 'her' hand down the front of his pants and started kissing him in full view of the whole taproom." Agrippa dropped his head onto the table in an open display of shame as the mercenaries started to roar with laughter, "I didn't know... I was pissed out of my mind" his muffled words came out as a shout but he would not raise his head to meet the other's eyes. "Boss, this 'lady' had the biggest hands I've ever seen and had more stubble than you", Kris said addressing Reven. Bran chipped in, "Come on Ag, the bloke looked like he'd put his makeup on in the dark and you could have spotted that wig a mile off". The whole table laughed together as Agrippa filled in the blanks of the story, being heckled the whole time.

In high spirits, the group set off.  Fang was once again adorned in his armour as he and Reven led the group through the great north gate of River Rise. Engleheart awaited and beyond that, their prize.

Trollbane - Part 10

The stink of the alleyway roused Reven from his sleep. The smell of human excrement mingled with the powerful scent of last night's ale made his stomach churn as his eyes struggled to open against the power of the morning sun. He brought one his hands to his face to cradle his head as he pushed himself upright, trying to remember how he had got into the alley in the first place. Still half-drunk he knew that last night had involved ale. The blood caked on his knuckles told him there had been violence. The general mess he was in told him that whatever had transpired it wasn't something he would be proud of. Another exercise in excess that had left him asleep in a shit-stained alley. Wonderful!

Shuffling down the streets of River Rise, trying to find his bearings he was pleased when the marketplace came into view. He would return to The Rest in the hope that Fang would have made his way back. As he pushed through the crowds of people, many of whom turned their noses up at his heavily scented passing, a commotion at the side of the market square caught his eye. Familiar stalls that he passed yesterday came into view as did a large contingent of the city watch. A crowd had gathered to gawk at the watchmen as they went about their work. Reven made his way through the onlookers until he stood at the front of the crowd. As he looked upon the destruction in front of him, the events of the previous night started to slowly fall into place.

Gap Tooth's animal stall had been smashed to pieces. Empty cages and splintered wood littered the floor. Tables were overturned; animal bedding, faeces, and feathers were spread around adding to the chaotic scene. The animals themselves were missing. The vague recollection of drunken anger washed over Reven. This looked like his work, his style of raw primal anger unleashed. His face flushed as he looked upon the destruction he had wrought. He struggled to remember when he had done this, it must have been whilst drunk. He had brooded over the deaths of Gap Tooth and his fellows and the way he and Fang had snuffed out their lives all of the previous day. He had wondered about the fate of the animals that were caged at their stall. The scene before him told him of what had transpired. In a red-hued fit of kindness, he had decided o set the animals free. Releasing them into the night so that it may envelop them in its embrace and help them find much-deserved freedom.

Whilst he stood musing over yesterday's mistakes, and small victories, he had started to draw attention from some of the watchmen who were casting sideways glances in his direction. The blood caked over his hands and his general demeanour made him stand out and he couldn't help but think if he were a watchman he would want to question this wastrel. He drifted back into the crowds before the watch could act, melting away into the hubbub of the market place. Head down, he marched back to his lodgings at The Rest in the hope he would be reunited with Fang and they could be away from the city before he started any more trouble.

Trollbane - Part 9

As Reven suspected, Fang did not react well to the news that they were heading off to the market. The warhound had already known about the trip thanks to the link he shared with his master. Reven’s anxiety oozed out of him as he rounded the wall to the stable. Fang sat in a corner on a mound of heaped hay, his back set firmly against the walls. He would not meet Reven’s eye and made his contempt for the trip plain by turning his head completely away from his master. "Fang, we don't know what danger the roads ahead may hold" Reven started as he began his attempt to placate his huge companion. "The equipment we get today could be the difference between your life or death. I couldn't imagine life without you in it my friend?". In response, Fang raised one of his great paws to fend off Reven’s advance. The paw was taken like the proffered hand of a lover. One hand was placed underneath and one on top that gently caressed the beast’s foot. Fang tried to snatch the paw back but Reven would not release it. It made the hound whip his head around to better see what was happening and Reven took his opportunity with relish. He leapt at Fang and wrapped his arms around the warhound's neck. A mocking growl escaped Reven’s smiling lips as Fang lurched forward to balance himself. A swift shake of the head and Reven was sprawling on the ground and he couldn't help but laugh. Fang nuzzled at him, pushing him around the hay-filled floor and a play fight ensued. The hound was the clear victor but his battle for the trip to the market had been lost. 

Ten minutes later fang was saddled and muzzled. In truth, the muzzle would do nothing to stop Fangs powerful jaws from opening but it gave an air of security that could calm any nervous onlookers. Instead of saddling his friend, Reven led Fang by the snout using a short rope to project an air of control. The only real control that Reven would have was the side of beef that had been promised to the hound for good behaviour whilst in public. They set off, waving Peter goodbye as they made their way further into the city.

The market was a bustling hive of activity. It sprawled across a square that was lined with small shops, pastry wagons and alehouses that were already open and doing a roaring trade even though it wasn't yet noon. Jugglers and musicians entertained small crowds for pennies whilst a puppet show kept a mass of excited children busy. There were people everywhere and even Fangs bulk didn't do much to part the crowds that hindered their progress. Reven eyed each stall, in turn, looking for the tell-tale glint of morning sunshine as it kissed armour or weapons. At one point he seriously considered mounting Fang so that he might have a superior view but thought better of it. Despite the throng of people ahead of them not paying much attention to the warhound those they had passed gasped and stood back, slack-jawed at the sight of the awesome beast. 

Warhounds were once often seen being ridden by nobles or wealthy merchants but the art of their care and breeding had been mostly lost to the common man. The armies that guarded Orland now seemed the only ones capable of rearing the beasts with very few being seen without a soldier sitting astride it. It is for this reason that Fang was a spectacle to be gawked at. Reven himself got a fair few appraising looks. Whilst he was armed for battle, he was plainly no soldier.

They pushed on through the crowds but even Reven was starting to feel claustrophobic so he led Fang away from the market stalls to the edge of the square. There Fang drank from a water butt whilst Reven bought some pastries and a cold ale. The pastries were to placate the agitated Fang, the ale was to placate the close-to-agitated Reven! As he tipped his head back to quench his thirst the tell-tale glint he was looking for caught his eye. At the other end of the side of the square he was on he saw tables set out in front of a shop. Reven’s keen eyes picked out gleaming vambraces and pauldrons laid out for purchase and knew that merchant would be his best shot at finding something for Fang. Reven downed his ale and motioned to Fang to finish his last pastry.

Halfway to the armour-laden tables, they came across an animal vendor. Reven looked at these people with disdain and the animals they touted with sympathy. Being bonded with a beast gave him a special kinship with animals and seeing the conditions these ones were forced to endure he could feel his ire rising. He saw a pair of Rock-Tailed Beavers from the mountain streams of Ironhill, their fur matted and teeth overly long. He saw a young Thornspire Bear whose name was taken from the woods they inhabited. The bear was dosed with something and wore a look of befuddlement as if his addled mind couldn't comprehend his surroundings. A tuft of bright white hair grew on the crest of his head upon a wound that slowly healed. There were countless birds that squawked and chirped as Reven approached. Animals from all over Orland and beyond crowded the stalls. Reven couldn't help but notice some of the beasts appeared to be dead. He stopped looking to calm his anger before he did something rash. Fang sensing his unease let loose a low growl that actually quieted the majority of the birds and drew alarmed stares from passers-by. 

Reven quickened his pace to put distance between himself and the animals but a shout from behind him brought him to a halt. He turned to see a group of five men behind him, all in the garb of trackers or hunters. Mottled brown and green shirts and trousers sat under leather jerkins and other arrayed pieces of hide armour. Enough protection from animals but not much against the point of a sword. The lead man moved toward Reven, "Ho there, friend" he called as he approached. "We couldn't help but notice and admire your beast and wondered if you came to market today with the intention of selling him?". The man brought his hands together and steepled his finger as a wide, gap-toothed grin spread across his face, feigning friendliness. Reven knew the question he asked was moot. Nobody saddles a beast they are going to sell. "He's not for sale", Reven replied matter-of-factly and turned to leave the conversation there but the man pressed him. "We would pay handsomely for such a fine animal, we have gold and you can take your pick from our fine stock of beasts", his grin returned as he gestured back at the array of miserable animals that sat in cages over his shoulder. Reven didn't respond, Fang did. His growl rumbled and reverberated off the wall of the square and made the man nearly jump out of his skin. A menacing step forward was all it took for the no longer grinning, animal vendor to turn tail and run. 

Reven had hitched Fang around the corner from the armourer's just off the square whilst he looked through the stock. The armourer himself was busy bringing pieces from the back of the shop whilst explaining that most of the warhound armour he once stocked had been melted down long ago as there was little need for it. The pieces he was showing Reven were 'too fine' to be destroyed in his opinion and he had held on to them in the hope that he would one day see a hound adorned with them. Reven picked up a weighty spiked shoulder plate to inspect it. Inwardly he couldn't deny the quality of the armour. There were no casting marks, no rough edges and it was in excellent condition that told him it had never been used. Fine etching along the sides, which mirrored the curves of the edges, were inlaid with azure and some red metal that Reven couldn't identify. The metal itself looked to be a deep bronze but lacked the weight that bronze had. When questioning this he learned that the armourer had not made the armour himself but had inherited it from his father who ran the forge and shop before him, its true origin was a mystery. This was what he was here for though and despite the lack of information about the armour’s provenance, he bargained for the whole lot. Chestguard, barbed hind guards, a segmented back piece and spiked shoulder guards. They were loaded onto a small hand cart and Reven wheeled it around to load Fang up with his new purchases. The hound ran an appraising eye over the armour as Reven strapped it to place. The armourer had offered the use of his backyard so Reven could have some privacy and he had accepted happily. Some lengths of hide were needed to ensure the metal didn't chafe on Fang's skin or fur but an hour later when he was all strapped up the armour looked as if it was made for the hound. Reven was about mount up and move on when the armourer rushed out of the shop holding a huge piece of metal that sat across his chest. It was the top half of a snarling wolf cast in the same metal as the rest of Fang's new armour. he explained he knew he had one more piece and would give it away for free only to see the suit complete and in use. As Reven fit this final piece he felt he would burst with pride as he looked in wonder and the armour-clad behemoth before him. Fang was fearsome to look upon at the best of times but clad in metal he looked truly monstrous. 

It was at his very moment that five men burst into the yard armed with axe handles and whips. The same five men that had not long ago stopped Reven in the street to attempt to barter for Fang. Reven slid Bloodthirster from its sheath and sidestepped around the men until they were between him and Fang. The sword radiated its hunger for blood and almost hummed with longing for battle. As Reven turned to bolt the gate to the yard shut he couldn't help but wonder at the idiocy people displayed. Take these five fools for example. They obviously wanted Fang. They obviously had no knowledge of warhounds. They obviously didn't hold their lives dear to them. Despite all this, their stupidity still amazed him. 

Once the door was bolted and the armourer had fled, Reven raised his sword. In response, Fang opened his mouth wide enough to rip through the stitching of his muzzle and let the leather drop to the floor. For some of the men between them, the sound of that leather muzzle slapping against the stone cobbles of the armourer’s yard would be the last sound they heard. As one Reven and Fang came together, tearing asunder the men that stood before them. It was like some terrible god had brought his hands together to swat a fly. Justice and vengeance crashed together and blood began to flow. Gap Tooth was the first to die. A slash from Bloodthirster opened up his neck just a second before Fang bit the head clean off one of his cronies. The several seconds of violence that followed ended with entrails, an arm, four fingers and two heads without bodies strewn about the floor. Fangs new armour was splattered with gore and Reven shook his head as he wiped the blood from his eyes. "I hate to say it my friend", he said as he looked at his bloodied hound, "but maybe you were right. We should have stayed at the inn."

Trollbane - Part 8

Before sitting down to breakfast, Reven went and checked on Fang. Peter had already fed the warhound and he was noisily crunching through bones that were leftover from the previous evening's meals. Reven crouched next to Fang and despite his low, warning growl scratched the huge beast behind the ear. Fangs back leg spasmed in response to his master's touch, scratching at thin air as Reven found a spot that he would never reach on his own. In truth, it was Reven who needed to feel another's touch. The dream that had woken him in the night had plagued his thoughts since he had dragged himself from his bed. Being with Fang helped ease his discontent and he stayed with his friend for almost an hour to enjoy the warmth of his companionship. 

Breakfast was a simple serving of honey-bread, bacon and pastries. Whilst eating alone, Reven thought about how he would spend his day. They had two nights in River Rise to restock their supplies, rest and enjoy the multitude of distractions that the bustling town offered. He resigned himself to looking for some new armour pieces for Fang in one of the markets. Warhound's were not typical mounts and were hard to buy for. Most equipment had to be made to order and would often take days or even weeks to make. Despite this Reven was confident that the flow of trade through River Rise would enable him to find something suitable for his hulking friend. The town was well-used by travellers from all points of the compass. The only problem he had is that he would have to take Fang with him. The armour would need to fit and if it didn't would need to be altered. He needed the hound with him to make those purchases but  Fang did not like crowds and they also didn't like him. The news they were going out into the throng of people at the market would not be received well by Fang. This simple act would no doubt turn into an adventure all on its own.

Trollbane - Part 7

The wind tugged at his hair and stung his face. Snow from the twin peaks whipped down the mountainsides and obscured his vision. Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flashed temporarily flooding the area with bright white light, casting deep shadows across the withered landscape that lay to the front of The Horns of Atla. 

Reven stood at the base of the mountains, in a narrow corridor known as Scabbard Pass. Only wide enough to for two men to walk abreast, its sides were made of jagged, razor-sharp rock that stretched up beyond the sight of mortal man. Reven was scrabbling to don armour that was scattered at his feet. He strapped various parts on as he found them; grieves, gauntlets, pauldrons were all fastened in place. He was covered shoulder to foot, in archaic pitch-black armour. He strapped on a sword belt that he found lying at his feet. He was surprised to find the armour moved with him, flexed as he did despite its bulk. 

With the armour on Reven was almost as wide as the passage he stood in. He moved forward, the wind no longer hindering him even though it still stung his face. He squinted his eyes against the storm that raged about him and as he came to the end of the passage could make out a splinter of darkest night. Moving toward it he could see it was a sword, but its blade was made from metal the like of which Reven had never seen. Where it impaled the ground, a black helmet sat. Reven recoiled for he recognised the fearsome visage that was etched onto its front. The armour he wore, the helmet at his feet; they belonged to the demon that haunted his dreams. Without conscious thought, he reached down and plucked the helmet from the snow. He placed it onto his head and the world around him was drenched in a haze of red. He felt power course through him, strength raging through his muscles, the raw essence of war intoxicated him. He plucked the sword from the ground and stepped to the spot where it had rested. 

The silence was deafening. The wind ceased, there was no snowfall. The thunder was mute and the lightning lightless. The storm ended so quickly it bewildered the senses. The power contained in Reven’s armoured shell peaked and forced a long, undulating scream from his lips. As he gave voice to the energy coursing through his veins, etchings on the armour burned bright red filling the pass and the plain in front of him with a bloody-hued glow. 

As Reven’s scream died it was met by returning shouts and screams far off in the distance. Drums and horns sounded across the barren plain. Fires roared to life in the distance and the ground started to rumble with the weight of advancing feet. Reven watched as the ashen sands of the wasteland before him shrank, the emptiness filled with an immense advancing force. Made up from what looked to be every race that walked the lands of Atla, they shouted battle cries and challenges as they ran toward the lone armoured figure. Reven planted his feet and made ready for their advance, backing into the pass so that none could get around him. He held his sword aloft and the storm sprang back into life, the etchings on his unholy black armour blazed bright red once again and words that were all too familiar fell uninvited from his lips. “I am the vessel, I am wrath, the bloody-handed reaper.” The storm raged harder. “I carry their word, give life to their rage and I shall bring this world to its knees”. The advancing hordes were almost on him. “I am their vessel, I am ruin, I am death, look upon me and despair”, Reven raised his sword for his first strike.

He woke with a start, sweat beaded his brow. Shaking his head to try and free it from the horror of his nightmare, Reven regained a measure of sense. “I am their vessel” he intoned before unconsciousness claimed him once more.

Trollbane - Part 6

Orland in all its glory

Two days had passed since the mercenaries had left Briarmoot and they had gone by without incident. The inhabitants of the small village had been glad to see the back of them and waved them off with clenched fists and curses, once a suitable distance had opened up between them and the warriors obviously.

Reven sat astride Fang at the head of the troop and idly played with the silver hoof necklace that he had taken as his trophy. It wasn’t the first time he had been set upon without provocation but the assault on him and his men had been well planned, despite its poor execution. He would like to meet those responsible for the plan as he was in no doubt that the fools that perpetrated it didn’t have the brains to fashion it alone. More so, he wanted to know what the reason behind that attack was. He had upset many people in his time but he could recollect none that worshipped “The Great Pig”.

He tucked the pendant away and cleared his mind of his wonderings. By this evening he would once again behold the great West Gate of River Rise. His thoughts drifted back to the last time he was there and his friend and comrade in arms, Borengar Steelskin. Maybe he would search for his old friend whilst he was there. It had been well over a year since they had shared each other’s company and he very much wanted to see the old dwarfs face. They were staying in the city for two nights rest and recuperation before pushing on to Engleheart and eventually their fabled prize.

The mercenaries parted ways shortly after arriving at River Rise. A swift ale was shared to celebrate their safe arrival and then they went off in search of booze, brawls and less than wholesome women. Reven had to find somewhere he could house Fang. He hated leaving the hounds side, he was his best friend after all. He had considered camping outside the city but he was in no doubt this would only lead to trouble, especially considering their recent engagement outside Briarmoot. They made their way through the streets toward the more affluent northern part of the city, Reven certain that he could secure lodgings here that could accommodate the both of them. Despite being a lowly mercenary, he was not a poor man. The abilities of he and his men commanded a good price back in Blackcliff and they were kept busy enough to not have too many opportunities to spend their earnings.

Reven made his way to the main arterial route that ran northward through the city. The Forest Road was wide and full of traffic. Carts of goods were being brought in from the north and taken to the docks in River Rise’s centre and likewise from the docks, up to the cities north gate and the lands beyond. The part of the street where Reven walked was lined with merchant’s shops and inns. Their gilded facades hid the tenements that sprawled behind them. Drunken sailors spilled out of the ale houses whilst fops and merchants rode high in their saddles looking down on the human flotsam that floated past them. Fang afforded Reven a wide berth as man and beast alike scattered out of the hulking warhounds way. The mercenary pondered the emptiness of the lives of the people he was surrounded by and was thankful of the freedom his profession afforded him. Despite its dangers he would rather live by the sword than suffer under the yoke of some unscrupulous lord or rich merchant.

The road remained busy as they continued but the shops and inns were replaced by large houses with wide forecourts and sprawling drives. The larger, upper class inns were also located here and Reven was sure he would find somewhere suitable to stay on one of the side streets that led off the main road. The North Gate loomed far off in the distance and Reven knew he didn’t want to get that far as again the road would be choked with drunks and freshly arrived travellers as well as less than fitting lodgings.

As darkness tightened its grasp on the city Reven headed off the Forest Road down a street where the firelighters were going about their work. The more well-to-do areas of the city had fire globes mounted on poles that would illuminate the streets. The firelighters cast the simple spells that would keep these globes burning through the night, balls of flame leaping from their hands and igniting the magical orbs. It was quite a sight and most of the firelighters added a degree of theatrics to their jobs, making wild gestures with their arms before letting loose their spells. Reven had enjoyed the spectacle on his previous visit to River Rise and stopped to watch as the globes ahead of him came to life, their yellow glow slowly spreading up the street.

Five minutes further down the road he found his lodgings. The Rest, as it was called, was a little run down compared to other buildings on the street but it had a large empty stable and sold hot meat and cold beer. Reven settled Fang in the open stable whilst discussing payment with the proprietor. The man was the first Reven had met in a while that wasn’t taken aback by Fang. He said he was an ex-soldier and has spent many campaigns in the company of beastmasters and their mounts and seemed genuinely pleased to be up close to Fang’s magnificence.

Reven made arrangements for haunches of meat to be brought to the stables for his companion and a hot bath and cold beer to be poured for him. He ate with Fang and the owner, Peter, and shared their tales of adventure until his bath was ready at which point he removed himself to his room with several more beers and sunk into the hot water to wash the build-up of travel grime from his body. Before bed he checked on Fang from the window of his room, the mental link he shared with the hound meant that he knew he was alright but visual confirmation was always reassuring. The only surprise being that Peter, the proprietor was curled up in the stable with him. With a wry smile Reven crawled into bed and fell into a deep and troubled sleep.

Trollbane - Part 3

At the end of the second day of their travels, the mercenary band stopped to spend the night at a small village that was signposted Briarmoot. The settlement was surrounded by farm fields and was made up of no more than 30 ramshackle buildings. Barns and sheds scattered the distant landscape and the land looked green and fertile even in the fading evening light. 

The band made their way into town without Reven and Fang, which was customary. The warhound was a fearsome sight to behold and had too often scared timid villagers in the past. Lesson learnt the hound and his master would stay outside the village until lodgings had been secured. Agrippa brought them to a halt outside a large wooden building that sported a sign that read, The Emperors Hand Inn. Their horses were tied to the hitching rail outside the inn and the mercenaries moved inside buoyed by the idea of cool ale and warm food. 

The inn was close to empty. The common room before them was lit by a few scattered candles and a fireplace that was little more than embers. Two men that had the look of farmers propped up against one end of the bar and engaged in casual conversation with the stocky barman that ended abruptly upon the warrior's entrance. "Ho travellers, welcome to Briarmoot and The Emperors Hand. What can I get you today?" Agrippa and his brethren were taken aback by the man's sunny disposition and welcoming manner. It was in stark contrast to the gloomy interior of the inn but it immediately put the men at ease and they moved toward the bar to quench their thirst.

Reven relaxed against the trunk of an oak tree a short distance from the dusty track that led into Briarmoot. He had let Fang hunt and sat alone as night crept up on the evening. The sunlight waned as he closed his eyes. As he started to doze words sprang unbidden into Reven's thoughts, 'I am the vessel. Look upon me and despair'. Instantly he rolled to the left a fraction of a second before an arrow whacked into the tree where a moment before he had been resting. As he rolled he grabbed his sword, Bloodthirster. It sang as he whipped it free of its scabbard coming to his feet in one smooth motion. The vampiric blade flickered as it moved to intercept another missile, smashing it out of the air. Reven could see his attackers as they moved toward him. They were still a way off but they moved with purpose and precision as they closed on him. Reven had used this technique himself and he scanned left and right to find where the trap would be sprung. It didn't take him long, he ducked behind the tree to avoid more arrows and spied the pincer movement that was supposed to have caught him. Four men, two on the left and two on the right crouched low in the grass made their way toward him. They broke into a run as soon as they knew they had been discovered. Reven regretted not unpacking his bow from Fang's harness, with the four at his flanks and the six or so that advanced from the front it would have been good to have whittled down their numbers before engaging with them up close. Bloodthirster twitched in his hands, hungry for blood the blade almost willed Reven to battle. 

They were almost upon him. The arrows came less frequently but did enough to keep him pinned behind the tree. They came on him all at once, adjusting their pace to hit with maximum force. Reven ducked under the first swung blade and it splintered tree bark as it landed. Up close he could see all the men wore similar garb. Light leather armour and masks, dyed black or dark brown. They roared as they swung at him. Three swordsmen made up the front rank, well trained and vicious they thrust and swung at Reven in unison forcing him to parry with his swords and vambraces. He whirled lashing out with his sword but even as he moved men at the rear stabbed through openings with spears and tridents. They formed a tight circle around him, forcing him repeatedly onto the tree at his back. Within seconds Reven was covered in nicks and cuts and bled freely from a spear wound in his side. He dropped low and took one of the swordsmen's leg off at the knee and pushing his advantage launched himself through the gap he'd made, barreling a trident wielding attacker to the ground in the process. Leaping to his feet he back-peddled desperately as he tried to prevent the attackers from closing round him again. One thing working in his favour was the combination of the blood-drinking blade in his hand and the newly stumpy swordsman. Blood flew through the air from the severed limb to the blade splashing the attackers as Reven swung the sword in defence. The blood drew one of the attacker's attention and Reven capitalised on the moment and with a neat back swing carved the mans face in two. He pressed his advantage snapping the haft of a spear with his vambrace, he spun into his next pursuer impaling him through the chest, the light leather offering no resistance to Bloodthirster. Sensing a change in fortune the attackers re-doubled their efforts. Pressing Reven into defence again. They circled around him trying to force him back to the tree. Reven was breathing hard and now laboured to see after a large gash had been opened across his forehead and his vision swam with blood. 

It was as the attacker's confidence grew and Reven's dogged defence weakened that the tide turned once more. Silent in his approach and deadly in his arrival Fang's hunt had led him full circle. The towering mass of muscle exploded into the fight frantic in the defence of his friend and master. Hitting the attackers at full speed he sent them sprawling. Reven emboldened by his warhounds arrival ceased his retreat and once more went on the attack. Fang tore men limb from limb as Reven enacted his revenge on the ambushers. One tried to flee only to be pounced on by the beast, his head removed in one swift bite. 

The whole exchange lasted less than two minutes and the broken bodies of Reven's would-be killers lay strewn around the tree where only moments before he was resting. Reven rested his hand on Fang's lowered snout and met him forehead to forehead. The wound in his head ached but he needed to thank his companion for his timely intervention. Fang had saved Reven's life countless times and the bond they shared was unbreakable as a result. A whimper from one of the downed men drew Reven's attention, "Time to find out who these bastards are my friend" he whispered to Fang. Exhausted but determined he made his way over to the man and drew his skinning blade. He would get the information he required before this wretch died.

Dungeon Crawl - Part 7

After Fang was fed, Reven and Borengar mounted their beasts of burden and headed to River Rise's west gate. They pushed their way through the crowds that swarmed around the huge market place that dominated the centre of the town. The city was so big it stretched on for as far as their eyes could see. They crossed one of the many bridges over the river that flowed through the town. The water from the river gushed from under ground in the north of the city and the fountain like spray gave the town it's name; River Rise. The site of the spring was considered holy and many people journeyed from all over Atla to bathe in the fresh waters that spewed forth from the land. The coming together of so many pious people from a multitude of races gave the town varying architecture. Many of the settlers grouped themselves together in quarters and much of the town was divided up by the various races; Orcs, Elves, the angel like Avia, Dwarves and Humans coexisted here in the shadow of the goddess Elria's Spring. 

The West Gate was heaving with travellers. Self declared holy men were selling small bottles of river water to first time visitors and vendors were selling food and drink to the weary travellers. Reven and Borengar moved away from the crowds so that they could hide Fang's bulk behind a wagon. They had a decent view of all the parties that were travelling in and out of the gates and settled down to await Krassner's departure.

They didn't have to wait long before they saw the bright orange of his flowing robes. Krassner strutted out with a self assured gait that brooked respect. Well his walk and the twenty of so guards that surrounded him. They were all leading horses out and mounted up as soon as they were clear of the crowds. Krassner's own mount was handed to him by a young boy who's cheek he touched affectionately before taking the reins from his hands and  pushing what Reven assumed was money into the boy's hand. Borengar screwed his face up and snorted in disgust, "We can't take the boy-lover with all those guards around" he said waving a hand in the general direction of Krassner's bodyguards. "You're right, it's too public here anyway." Reven responded, "We'll follow him and see if we can get to him at night. I wonder what he fears? Borengar cocked his head, "What he fears?" he echoed, "Not much with that many men." "but why have so many men? He must be expecting trouble on the road." Reven said before clapping Borengar on the back, "and we wouldn't want to disappoint our old employer now would we my friend." They laughed and decided that Borengar on Sable would be less conspicuous than Reven riding atop Fang. 

Borengar set off and Reven waited ten minutes before following his friend. As he sat on Fang it occurred to him that even though Krassner had a lot of men with him he didn't seem to have any provisions which made him think the trip may not be a long one. Just as he was angling Fang toward the road his attention was drawn to the gate where there was a commotion. Another party with a large set of guards were in a heated debate with the sentries that watched the entrance to the city. Reven thought he recognised the female voice that was raised in anger. He nudged Fang over to the group and used his height advantage to see what was happening. Recognition flashed across his face as he found the owner of that voice. It was the same woman he wrestled with in the library; the rightful owner of Krassner's book. He didn't hang around to get spotted and trotted away from the milling crowd. Things were getting interesting. Reven couldn't wait to get his hands on Krassner and find out what he had discovered in the tome that made it valuable enough for this beauty to traipse half way across Orland to recover it. He smiled to himself. All would be revealed soon enough.

Dungeon Crawl - Part 6

The room smelt musty, like recycled breath and stale beer. Hardly surprising considering the amount of beer Borengar and Reven had drunk the night before. They had arrived in River Rise just after sunset and had decided to take a much needed rest. A rest that involved many pints and merriment in the first tavern they had come across that could house Fang's bulk. Upon arriving they had slipped the guards a little gold and had found that a man wearing ridiculously bright orange robes had arrived earlier the same day with a large entourage of hired swords. Krassner had no reason to be inconspicuous but the guards had mentioned Reven and Borengar were not the first to have asked after the man. It occurred to Reven that this other interested party could be the people from Sellport that had been enquiring at Krassner's house. Today he, Borengar and Fang would be heading to the cities west gate to see if they could spy Krassner and his minions as they departed the city. River Rise was one of the largest cities in Orland and asking around the city for one man would take too long.

Reven kicked Borengar's bedroll to wake him and made his way out of the tiny room they had rented. Down in the common room the smell of fresh sausage and bread assailed his nostrils and made his stomach rumble. He took a seat by the window and ordered food and Fang's meat from one of the serving girls. He sat staring out of the window watching the world go by whilst waiting for his dwarf companion to join him. Sausage, bacon and toast were brought to the table by a pretty, freckle faced girl who Reven barely acknowledged he was so lost in his reverie. 

He wanted more than this. Since being made to leave the Order of the Black Veil several years before he had wandered from place to place picking up work were he could. Seeking people he could learn from in attempt to continue to improve on the basics he had been taught at The Deep and by Mistress Sanya. He had been obsessed for a while with the tales of the Everguard and had read books and manuscripts wherever he had came across them to further his knowledge of them. He wanted to be known throughout all the lands as they were; feared and revered in the same manner they were. These warriors of old that combined sword and sorcery to overcome the the worst foes the world could throw at them gave life to Reven's desire for power and renown. His thoughts drifted back to the battle at Einder's Keep and the power that infused his broken body. He wanted to tap into that power and wield it as he did his sword.  He knew he was different from other men. His bond with Fang had sharpened his senses and given him strength and speed beyond that of any normal man. The terrible fury that the war hound unleashed in battle coursed through hie veins also. He felt he was destined for greatness but needed more than physical prowess. He resolved himself to continue his search for teachers once his adventure with Borengar had drawn to a close. His mind snapped back to the job at hand as he heard the dwarf stomp down the stairs. Krassner must be found and pay his debt to Reven and Borengar in blood.

Dungeon Crawl - Part 5

The rain came down hard as Reven and Borengar trotted into the small village of Arnswept. The village was made up of run down wooden shacks with a few barns scattered around the outskirts. The fields around the village were either barren or were covered in sickly brown weeds. Arnswept did not appear to be a place that was doing well for itself. Borengar hopped off of his pony, Sable, and led her over to the inn that dominated the centre of the village. 'What a miserable place' he said as he hitched his mount to a post outside the inn. 'You'd find more cheer at a funeral' he finished. Reven couldn't help but agree, looking around there was not a soul to be seen. No one was working the fields, no one even peeking through windows at Fang who always managed to cause a stir. The village was completely silent save for the unrelenting sound of rain and wind. The pair took a last look at the dilapidated buildings before heading into the inn. Reven didn't bother tethering Fang, he wanted to leave him free in case there was trouble. The hound seemed to share the uneasy feeling Reven had about this place. 

Borengar and Reven pushed the rickety wooden door wide and strode in to the inn. The common room was empty save for a dishevelled old man who sat on a stool, slumped forward over the bar. Reven walked over to the man and gently rocked him back and forth thinking him to be asleep. As he shook harder one of the man's arms that was cradling his emaciated face fell to his side to reveal the blank stare of a dead man. Reven called out, 'Borengar, something is not right here my friend. This man is dead.' He pulled his damp hair out of his face and pushed it down the back of his cloak which he flicked over his shoulder to reveal the sword in its scabbard at his side, he wanted to be ready and his feeling of unease was growing. Borengar drew his axe from his back and the companions walked behind the bar to investigate further. 'This is very strange' said Borengar, 'How are we to find Krassner if the only people around here to ask are dead?' The dwarf huffed as he moved into the back room of the inn which had signs that people had been here recently. A pot of stew hung over a fire pit in the middle of the room, fresh loaves of bread lay at rest on the kitchen counter which upon investigation were still warm to the touch. 'Hello' shouted Reven, 'anybody here?', no answer came. 'A dead man at the bar. Food ready to eat in the kitchen. What is going on in Arnswept?' Reven posed the question to Borengar but before he could answer a roar from outside brought them rushing back through the bar and bursting through it's front door into the street. 

Fang was roaring at a group of skinny looking men and women that were hurling rocks and sticks at him and Sable. The war hound had placed his considerable bulk between the crowd and the pony to protect it and the missiles bounced off him ineffectually. The crowd were about thirty strong and and looked only slightly more alive than the dead man in the bar. 'What is the meaning of this?' shouted Reven. The crowd ceased their their attack and parted to allow the fattest man Reven had ever seen pass between them. The man's belly was so large he used silk scarves to hold it off the floor and his bald head sweated with the exertion. His bright turquoise robes didn't seem affected by the rain; in fact the man would have been completely dry if it wasn't for the perspiration. He came to a stop in front of the crowd and let his enormous gut fall to the floor and spoke in a clear deep voice 'Leave this place, Arnswept doesn't suffer strangers or fools and you look to be both. Be off with you' The words struck Reven with the power and compulsion of a large wave. He staggered back and at once went to mount Fang. Borengar grasped his arm and pulled him away from the hound. He noted that Reven didn't struggle and he wore a blank expression on his face. 'Your words are tainted with foul magic sorcerer. But I am a dwarf and not so easy to compel as weak minded humans'. The fat man baulked at Borengar's words and looked decidedly uneasy. 'Kill the dwarf' he shouted at the crowd and they swarmed round him obediently. 

Borengar spun Reven to face him and hit him hard across the face with his gauntleted hand. Reven fell to one knee under the force of the blow but it had the desired effect. Reven awoke from his stupor and resisted the compulsion the magician had placed upon him. Rising to his feet he drew his sword and faced the shambling crowd in front of him. 'It doesn't sit well butchering these poor folk', Borengar said readying his axe, 'We need to get to fatty and put an end to his meddling.' Reven nodded his agreement and tried to run round the edge of the crowd but their hands grabbed him and pulled him in. He felt sticks being beaten against his back and shoulders. Somebody smashed him in the face with a rock that staggered him. Reven's anger ignited, his veins burning with liquid hatred. He head-butted the closest assailant shattering the man's nose and sending a spray of blood over the zombie-like crowd. He lashed out with his fists felling more  of the bone bags before him. There may be more of the crowd but they were as weak as small children and hard pressed to match Reven for speed. He hit another man so hard in the ribs that he heard them snap with a loud crack. He broke free of the crowd as Fang waded into the action. The hound understood what was happening and used his massive head to bat the crowd away from Borengar who was hot on Reven's heals. Fang kept them busy as they raced after the big sorcerer. 

He hadn't got far. His clothes were now soaked with sweat and he was making a poor job of getting away. When Borengar and Reven caught him he had only managed to travel about twenty paces from where he had started. As they neared they could hear him mumbling under his breath. Borengar swung his axe at the man's back but unbelievably he moved out of the way with preternatural speed and turned on the dwarf smashing him so hard in the face with his fist that the dwarf was knocked to the floor. 'My magic may not work on you my stunted friend but it works on me just fine.' Borengar tried to recover himself but the sorcerer lifted his enormous belly over the dwarf and dropped it on his head. The dwarf kicked out and strained against the fat but it was smothering him and he was struggling for breath. 'Now my young friend' the sorcerer said to Reven, 'Gut this stunted pain in the arse. I have a terrible hunger and must be getting on.' Reven struggled against the sorcerer's will his hand drifted to the hilt of his sword and slowly he started drawing the blade. Only one thought entered his mind and summoning all his strength he cried out,'Faaaannnggg!' The war hound reacted immediately trampling members of the crowd he had been corralling under foot as he rushed towards Reven. 

Borengar had ceased his struggles and Reven had drawn his sword and held it high ready to strike. With the war hounds approach the magicians power over Reven was waning. The sorcerer stumbled backward stretching his enormous gut as he did so. Reven and Fang struck in unison. Reven's sword sang through the air before slicing cleanly through the massive folds of skin that made up the sorcerers stomach. Simultaneously Fang bit down through the fat man's torso, removing his head, shoulder and arm with his huge jaws. Reven sliced the remnants of the stomach again which split in half revealing the prone form of Borengar underneath. Fang started coughing and choking as he tried to swallow the chunk of the sorcerer. Reven had never seen him struggle to swallow anything before and looking at the remains of the stomach he understood why. The flesh was crawling with fat black maggots. Thousands of them writhed out of the flesh. They poured from the sorcerers torso creating a living carpet under Reven and Fang's feet. Borengar spluttered as he regained his breath and frantically started flicking maggots off of him. Fang wretched and brought the foul meat of the sorcerers head and shoulder up in one fat lump, it landed on the floor with a wet smack. He pawed at his face trying to remove the maggots that were crawling through his fur. Reven grabbed Borengar and dragged him clear of the teaming mass of bloated maggots. Fang bounced away shaking his head. As Reven pulled the dwarf clear of the black pool of creatures they started to pool together. The maggots started to rise and take form as they did so. Reven and Borengar stood and watched in horror as the creatures formed the likeness of the sorcerer, 'Fools' the thing screamed in a voice more akin to a demon than a man, 'You have sealed you fate' it roared taking a step forward into the puddles of maggots. Reven watched as it raised it arms and started muttering an incantation. He continued to watch as Fang ran at the thing and swiped through the thing with one of his huge paws. In an instant the maggots turned to a swarm of bloated flies that buzzed away until the sound was lost in the torrential down[pour of the rain. All that remained was a pool of black maggot skin that shimmered in the water. Fang approached Reven and bowed his head and Reven ruffled his fur and brought his head up so he looked the hound in the eye. 'Thank you my friend' he said as he gently picked maggot skin from his fur.

The rain had cleared quickly after the sorcerers departure. The residents of the village that were well enough to talk had shared the tale of their downfall with Reven and Borengar. The sorcerer had arrived in the village a few weeks before and not long after he had arrived he had exerted his control over the villagers. none of them had eaten since he had came. The crowd that faced Reven and his companions were the last of a village that numbered over a hundred souls. The others had faced the same fate as the man who still sat slumped over the bar. They had starved to death. Many of the crowd who were now released from the sorcerers enchantment wouldn't survive. To weak to stand without the magicians spell they would now succumb to the weeks of starvation they had endured. The meal that was waiting to be eaten was for the fat sorcerer. Upon his arrival the crops had started dying as had the livestock, the man's very presence was a cancer that ate away at the village. The villagers were grateful to Reven and Borengar but they would never be free of the memory of their enslavement and the sadness they now felt weighed heavy on them. 

As Reven and his party departed they took one last look at the village of Arnswept and sorrow hung in their hearts. 'Curse all magicians. Power hungry meddlers the lot of 'em' Borengar commented as they passed beyond the borders of the settlement. 'I've a feeling we'll be running in to fatty again and I for one can't wait'. 'He'll soon get what's coming to him I'm sure. Lets concentrate on Krassner for now.' Reven said as he spurred Fang on. 

From on high a swarm of fat, bloated flies tracked the adventurers progress. They seemed to form a smile in the clear blue sky before they let themselves be carried away on the wind.

Dungeon Crawl - Part 4

Reven, Borengar and Fang arrived outside Krassner's house at mid-morning. It hadn't taken long to locate where the man lived as many people recognised their description of his bright orange robes. Most people they spoke to referred to him as the wizard; they would ask the question and the response would be 'Oh, you mean the wizard.' They remained sceptical of Krassner's status as a user of magic, if he was a powerful mage then why would he have needed Reven and Borengar's assistance in acquiring the book? It didn't make sense but they would soon find out exactly what the man was up to. 

Borengar rapped on the door of the house loudly. It was a plain enough looking building even though it was in a well to do area. It sat on a terraced street, the buildings were all made of smooth dark grey stone and stood three stories high. Borengar banged harder on the door this time and still there was no answer. 'Do you think the bugger is trying to avoid us?' he said to Reven over his shoulder. He took a step back and shifted his weight making ready to charge the door. Borengar was stubborn as all dwarves are and wouldn't let a closed door stand between him and Krassner. Just as he started his charge at the door it swung inward and Borengar checked his run, coming to a stop in front of a surprised woman who stood in the doorway. From the way she was dressed Reven assumed she was a maid or housekeeper of some sort. He stepped forward, 'Excuse me Ma'am, is this the Krassner residence?', Reven enquired in his most polite manner. The woman blanched a little at the site of these two ruffians at her door. 'No, he left on business early this morning.' and with that answer she made to close the door. 'Do you know where he went?' Borengar asked putting his foot on the threshold so the door couldn't be closed. 'Why everybody is so interested in where he's going is beyond me.' she said trying to push the door shut. 'Who's everybody?', Reven asked moving closer to the woman. She looked from Borengar to Reven and back again lingering on the dwarf's imposing foot and sighed, 'Fine. My master travels west toward Blackcliff, but I know not exactly where his journey leads. You just missed another lot that were enquiring about Master Krassner's whereabouts. An old man, a young woman and more louts like yourselves', you could hear the anger in her voice becoming more pronounced as she spoke and she ended her speech by kicking Borengar in the shin forcing him to move his leg and slamming the door. 'I think whatever that book contained it must be worth a great deal more than what we were paid for its recovery' said Borengar as he hobbled away from the door. Reven nodded his agreement, 'There was an old man and a woman at the house I took the book from. It may be a coincidence but if Krassner had already tried getting the book off them they must have suspected he was involved in the theft. I feel that somebody will be getting rich very soon as as it stands its not going to be us'. The dwarf smiled, 'I've nothing better to do. We could take a trip. If nothing else there is always mercenary work in Blackcliff, that area is always being raided by orcs and the like'. Reven nodded, 'Good.' he signalled to Fang to approach and climbed on the beast back. 'Get your things together, I'll meet you at the north gate in a few hours. I have to visit the smithy before we leave.' Borengar shouted his assent as Fang bounded off down the street.

Borengar watched as Reven approached on Fang. The war hound had a little more armour thanks to the previous days would-be attackers and Reven looked like he had spent some of his earnings on some new equipment. The crowds near the gate gave Fang a wide berth. As Reven neared he could see that the youth was leading a pony by a long rope and new exactly who it was intended for. Reven climbed off Fang's back and hoped down in front of the dwarf. He had new matt black metal vambraces, shin guards and a sculpted breast plate to match. Reven pulled in the rope and the pony trotted forward obediently. Borengar looked the pony up and down and simply said, 'No'. Reven ignored him, 'Borengar, this is Sable, your new mount' he patted the ponies side and spoke to the pony, 'Sable, this is your grumpy new rider Borengar'. Borengar huffed, 'You can wipe that smile off your face' he said to Reven, 'I'll not be riding that beast anywhere.' 'You will if we want to catch Krassner. You dwarves are hardly known for your speed and Sable here is my solution to that very pressing problem. So mount up' with that Reven tossed the rope to Borengar who flapped at it before finally grasping it and pulling the pony close. 'Just this once then.....foul smelling beast. It's alright for Mr Fancy Pants in his new armour...', he was hush unceremoniously by Reven who proceeded to head out the gate. Borengar climbed awkwardly in Sable's saddle and spurred her on. She trotted dutifully after Reven and Fang, out of the city and on to adventure.

Dungeon Crawl - Part 3

Reven and Borengar once again found themselves in The Pot Bellied Orc awaiting Krassner's arrival. Reven turned the book over in his hands examining the leather bound tome. He had read pieces of it and didn't understand what was so special about the book. It seemed to be about nothing in particular, parts in it were about architecture, others about the design of suits of armour. There was no clear correlation between the various passages and he did wonder if there could have been two books in the library that bore the same name. Borengar joined him at the table with two freshly poured pints of beer. 'Serving girls here are terrible. It says a lot when a dwarf has to fetch his own beer' he said as he sat heavily in his chair. He looked genuinely put out that he had to travel the ten or so paces to the bar and back. He set about draining his pint as Reven watched Krassner enter the inn. He was flanked by two burly body guards who went and hovered at the bar as Krassner took his seat at the table. 'I see you were successful my friends' Krassner said as he stretched his hand out to take the book. Reven pulled it away, 'There is the matter of our payment to be settled Mr Krassner' Reven said holding the book to his chest. Borengar looked on approvingly whilst using his beard to wipe beer from his lips. Krassner fumbled at his belt and slapped down a pouch full of coins onto the table top. Borengar snatched it up and eyed the contents nodding his approval at Reven who handed the book to Krassner. Krassner snatched it away stroking the cover tenderly as if it were a new born babe. 'Thank you gentleman. May I ask one last boon of you? Can I perhaps borrow a dagger?', Reven cocked an eyebrow at the strange request but handed over his dagger none the less. Krassner worked the blade around the edge of the books cover whilst Borengar and Reven looked on. After carefully cutting around the book he peeled the leather cover off and looked and examined the backside of the leather, a smile spreading across his face. He pushed the dagger back across the table toward Reven. 'Thank you again. We won't be seeing each other again. Enjoy your payment' Krassner rose still grinning broadly. Reven thought he saw him nod his head ever so slightly at his men at the bar before he hurried out of the bar. The men didn't follow but instead turned to the bar and ordered drinks. 'Well' Borengar said, 'That may have been the easiest coin I have ever earned' he sat back with a bemused look on his face, 'More beer?' he asked and got up heading to the bar knowing what Reven's answer would be. Krassner's men at the bar glanced at the dwarf and then at Reven, sharing a private joke as they did so. There was no doubt in Reven's mind of what the men's intent was. They intended to return Krassner's money at the expense of Reven and Borengar's lives.

Krassner's men watched as the youth and the dwarf got deep in their cups. The serving girl was constantly walking back and forth from the bar bringing them pint after pint. Krassner was right, they were frittering away their pay on beer and from the amount of whispering the youth was doing in the serving girls ear he hoped to spend some on women as well. They watched as the youth, Reven, got up and shouted about needing the privy. He staggered across the inn and out of the door, the purse of coins dangling from his belt. They decided with a look that they should take him now, they could finish the dwarf later. Pushing through the inn's patrons they followed Reven out on to the street and down a side alley. They watched him disappear into the pitch black and readied their daggers. They heard him retch as the effects of fresh air and too much beer took hold and they took it as their sign to get about their work.  They grinned as they entered the all encompassing darkness; killing a man as drunk as this and as sick as this would be easy.
They didn't smell his musk as they approached. There was no tell tale glint from his thick armour thanks to the darkness. They didn't hear his breath rasping through his dagger like fangs. He stood motionless, waiting. He had answered the silent call sent to him by his brother who now stood at his side. He watched as they searched for Reven, their eyes unaccustomed to the dark. And when they came close enough he struck.

Reven watched as Fang decapitated his stalkers with two swift bites. One fell sidewards, twitching as his lifeblood spurted over the alleyways fence. The other collapsed straight down in a heap, his armour propping him up. He sat in front of Fang, arms hanging forward in a gesture of supplication. Reven walked forward and kicked the man over. Smiling at Fang he patted the huge beast on the snout and nuzzled his face into fangs shoulder. 'Thank you my friend', said Reven, 'Time for dinner.' Borengar appeared in the mouth of the alley, 'Reven, is all well?', 'We're fine. Krassner's men on the other hand seem to have completely lost theirs heads.' Reven was removing their armour as he spoke and Borengar moved to help him. Knowing what was coming turned the dwarfs stomach but Fang was an effective method of disposing of bodies.

They stripped the armour and stowed it in bags the hung from Fang's side. They would be taken to a smith where the grieves, vambraces, breast and back plates would be flattened to be added to the various pieces of armour that already covered Fang. They had done this many times over the past few years and the various armoured trophies just added to the war hounds menace. Reven took the few coins the men carried and added it to their purse. 'How do you do that?' Borengar asked Reven, 'Do What?' he responded, 'Call the beast without uttering a sound, it's unnerving'. Reven paused before answering, he placed his hand on Fang's head as he bit through a torso, 'We're brothers, we share a bond. As time passes it grows stronger. He knows my thoughts as I know his, two bodies one mind. He gains the use of my intellect and I gain some of his abilities. It's a mutually beneficial relationship' he finished by ruffling the fur on Fangs huge head and turning to face Borengar. 'I owe him my life as he owes me his. He is no beast to me, he is a friend, a brother....my family.' Borengar nodded despite not really knowing where Reven was coming from. When he looked at Fang he just saw a mound of muscle and teeth. 'Well...will you brother be joining us in the inn? Drinking that watered down beer to fool our recently departed friends have given me a terrible thirst.' Reven smiled and clapped his friend on the back, 'No, Fang needs his rest. I'm going to introduce him to Krassner tomorrow.' They both chuckled as they made their way back inside The Pot Bellied Orc. Time to properly celebrate their recently found wealth.

Captain Goren

Scent: Part 30

Einder's Keep wasn't as grand as Reven was hoping. The stone walls were thick with vines and the keep itself looked to be little more than a large pile of rocks. From a distance it looked as if a wall had been built around a stone hill. A moat about ten paces wide surrounded the wall and a rickety draw bridge was being lowered as Sanya's Company drew near. The 'keep', or hill as Reven would now always think of it, was three stories high. It's windows were tiny slits without glass. As Reven walked across the drawbridge, trailing Ingerham's troops, he caught site of the keep's door, these at least looked impressive. The wide, dark oak, double doors looked as if they could take a battering from a giant. They slowly and soundlessly swung outward from the keep revealing their thickness. A man that looked as old as the domed keep appeared from the gloom inside and greeted Sanya. It looked from where Reven was that they knew each other but he was too far back in the column to hear what was being said. As Reven made his way inside the walls he noticed the guards atop the battlements. They were armed with bows and crossbows and their numbers were few. They all wore a look of relief on their faces as if their saviours had just marched into Einder's Keep.

Under Ingerham's direction Reven helped the troops stow their gear and help set up tents inside the walls. The scouts were preparing to leave to start looking for the raiders. They had walked their horses to the keep to make sure they were fresh enough to commence the search. They left just before nightfall, riding out in all directions from the keep. Goren wasn't with them, he and the other captains had been called to feast in the keep whilst Reven and the regular soldiers remained outside. After eating Reven and Fang made their bed in some hay in one of the stables. The rest of Ingerham's troops had manned the walls and stood near motionless atop them, staring out into the night. With a full belly and a surprisingly warm bed sleep came quickly to Reven and Fang. They snoozed contently believing themselves to be safe behind the walls of Einder's Keep.

Reven was awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of horns being blown from the battlements. The camp around the keep was a hive of activity and he could hear Sanya shouting orders to her troops. Reven was quick to rise and he and Fang made their way through the camp trying to find Captain Ingerham. When he did the Captain was organising his men and outlining the nights events. One of the scouts had returned pierced with arrows. Shortly after leaving the keep he had run straight into the advancing horde of raiders and had been chased by their outriders. Once his warning had been delivered he had died, the last of his strength spent and his duty done. Other scouts had returned since reporting on the disposition of the enemy force. The numbers they imagined were right. Three and a half thousand raiders were bearing down on the keep who's own troops numbered no more than one hundred and forty heads, including those of the keeps guards.

Ingerham's troops rushed to fortify the walls and lined the battlements with arrows, bolts and rocks that could be rained down upon the heads of the attackers. The keeps artisans busied themselves hammering struts over the main door. Goren was happy that the scouts that had not yet returned would regroup outside the walls and wait until their presence was needed so the preparations for the attack continued in earnest. 

As the horde approached Reven took his station on the walls, bow in hand. He had never seen so many men before and the torches held by the advancing army lit up the ground and the raiders. He knew looking out at them that they would not survive this fight. The walls they stood on looked as if they would collapse if they met with a strong wind, they were outnumbered thirty to one and there was no line of retreat. Sanya and her troops would have to make their last stand here. The horde stopped two hundred paces short of the moat and fell silent. From the centre of their line stepped men carrying long pieces of wood which they piled on the ground before laying torches round it. Goren let out an unexpected laugh and slapped Reven on the back. The boy hadn't even heard him approach but turned to look at the madman in wonder, 'What's funny?' he asked. 'Looks like they found their ships' Goren replied pointing to the wood. Reven narrowed his eyes and could now see what Goren was talking about. The wood they had laid in front of their ranks was made up burnt planks and scorched masts. 

The raiders let forth a deafening war cry and beat their swords and axes on their shields as they were whipped into a frenzy by their leaders. The horde advanced as one and rushed toward the keep. Dragging more wood with them as they came, they held their shields high to stave of the missiles that fell from the battlements. The wood they dragged was tossed into the moat and Reven could see that they intended to make bridge to allow them to get their axes within reach of the keep's door. The defenders volleys were taking a toll on the attackers but they had bowmen of their own and were slowly picking off the troops of Sanya's company. Reven loosed arrow after arrow into the thong below him but it wouldn't be enough. The raiders advance was pushing their own men into the moat and they were swimming across and trying to climb the walls of the keep. The din of battle couldn't drown out Captain Ingerham's commanding voice and he bellowed for the bow and crossbowmen to stand down. Reven took a step back and men barged past him with small kegs in their arms. The kegs were breached and sticky black liquid was poured over the battlements into the moat where it floated on top of the water. A generous amount was poured over the ever growing pile of wood the raiders were trying to bridge the moat with and then Sanya stepped to the fore a flaming arrow nocked in her bow. At once Reven understood. The kegs were full of oil and as Sanya's arrow embedded itself in a raiders head, he fell igniting the black liquid and moat with it. The raiders burned, the defenders cheered; the battle for Einder's Keep and their lives had begun.

Captain Ingerham

Reven's Fang - Captain Ingerham