On the far side of the Windpipe mountains lay a small tavern. Inside, an unusually small crowd for the size of the tavern, only mumbling to each other, and the sound of the cook cleaning up the few dishes that it took to feed them. Business has not been good at the 'Lords and Ladies' inn.
"Look out there Slick, Only four customer's, Only four yesterday, and I bet there'll be less tomorrow. And elves at that too, On their way to some festival for Violet Elf no doubt (humph), Well, it could be worse, at least they're not half-ogres. "
"We can't keep up business when we have no business"
"They come for the ale and song and we 'avn't got that shipment of dwarven ale we were promised. And that bard didn't show up either, you know the one that shows up in almost nothing. I always say if you plan to stay in business you need a little D&D ( drinks and dames)"
Torner slammed his mug on the table.
Meanwhile Slick's eyes grew wide open at the thought of seeing the near naked bard again.
" yeah,,, I remember her"
"What in the name of Elf am I gonna do? I can't lose this ( and waves his hands in the air as if to signify everything round him ), Not after I've worked so hard"
"Ummm... ss... ss.. Ummm sir" slick stumbles out. " I.. I.... I... got ss..sss.. some bad news...Th... th.. th.. This just came for you."
He carefully laid a piece of parchment on Torners desk. Torner looked at it for two breathes.
"What in the #@&$# name of all the evil is this?"
"it's ... it's... it's a ba..ba.. bill sir".
"I can see it's a bill, what the *&@$ is it for? and who the &#*@ is 'M' ?"
"Well if I remember my 20th century future correct (as apposed to history ). M is the boss of a guy by the name of Bond, James Bond I think. This bond fellow is an special agent for the ..."
"Agent huh?? well I know a couple of no good agent's in Bottemburn that I could strangle right now. They promised me that bard, and I ain't got no bard. Come to think of it, that ale was 'posed to come from Bottemburn too... hhuummmm"
"Well sir, I understand everyone in Bottemburn is getting these 'bills' sir. and for no reason"
"Then it's time someone stand up to this 'M' fella, whoever he is. Slick,, get my horse ready, I'm gonna get my ax and shield".
Torner was all set to go before the sun had set in the horizon. Plenty of magic 'stuff' with him too. His ax which had fell a mighty giant, his armor and shield, his 'drinks' that the wizard said to take before he was going to die. yeah, he had seen the wizards magic 'drinks' bring the nearly dead back to life, but was hopping he wouldn't have to use any.
It would take Torner almost a day to get to Bottemburn, Less if he pushed it, and he planed on pushing all through the night. If things went well he should make it by midday he figured.
And what's a story if nothing ever goes wrong, right?? Sooo.........
The Windpipe mountains can be very deadly at night for a stranger. But Torner was no stranger then most folks his age. Oh he had spent many years fighting of the evil in the Windpipe. He could tell something was different tonight. Maybe it was the unusual silence tonight, or the way his horse was acting, or the putrid stench that kept getting stronger as he neared the upcoming clearing. But he bet it was the... SNAP...Humanoid figures hiding in the woods waiting to ambush him.
His eyes look up the path to see what awaited him. Well, his eyes weren't as good as they used to be, but he knew something would be up ahead. He dismounted his horse and grab his ax and shield. no use putting the horse in danger also, and he needed it to make it to Bottemburn as fast as he could. If the horse was injured, well, he wouldn't be in Bottemburn for another day.
Something moved up ahead. He reached in his pocket and grabbed the lighted silver coin the wizard had given him as a gift. Guessed the distance to be around 40 paces, and threw the coin that way. Sure enough two shadows of small figures darted into the trees. Now there are only two races that are that small and live in these mountains, orcs and dwarfs. And only one of them likes to play at night.
"OOOORRRRCCCCSSSSS.."
Well,,, two little orcs had never gotten the best of Torner before.
" And you 'ain't gonna now". as he charged forward.
The two orcs, seeing that they were partly illuminated by the lighting coin stepped back out onto the path and drew their swords. Old swords, one of them had the tip broken off, both were as dull as the orcs. By the way they held their swords Torner could tell they had spent much of the night drinking some kind of alcohol. even their grunts were slurred. they slowly walked toward him, half tripping as they came.
Torner wasn't going to wait until they got to him. With one blow he sunk his ax into an orc, even before the orcs could lift his sword up.
WWHHHoooooooaaaaaaaa came the other orcs blade only to be met by the shield and a CCLLAAAANNNNGGGGGG. The orc dropped his sword and fell to his knees as the vibrations from the force was to much for it. Torner heard more sounds from behind him.
" yeep... defiantly an ambush".
He smashed his shield into the dazed orc as he turned around to find two more orcs. Well... four orcs had never gotten the best of Torner before.
The two orcs ran to either side of him, one on the left, one on the right. The one to his right looked to be a bit bigger so, he faced it down first, leaving lefty for last. A quick parry, then a smash with the handle of the ax and the third orc was on the ground. In his haste to finish of the one orc he had left himself open and the fourth orc delivered a deep slice into his left shoulder. The ax slide down to the head in Torners hands. Then in one swift motion, he jabbed the handle straight back into the orcs standing behind him.
CCRRUNNCCHH.. and yet one more orc was down. Torner guessed that had cracked two ribs... no wait... it sounded more like three.
"Your getting old Torner. Can't tell the difference between a two rib cracker and a three. Used to be a time you strived for perfection. Bragging that you could cut a slice in an orc the length anyone asked you to, before you even sliced. And now, now your talking to yourself. your getting old"
Then one more orc jumped out from his hiding spot high in the tree above Torner and plunged a dagger into his back. Well... five orcs had never gotten the best of Torner before. He reached behind himself and pulled the little orcs off his back, then flung him at big tree. It wasn't one of his best orc tosses. but you must remember that he did have a wounded arm and a dagger in his back.
"Five down". Torner looked around for more but none came.
He scouted out the clearing up ahead. Sure enough. the orcs had made camp here. He saw that the place was littered with junk the orcs had been collecting.
"So.. thats who picks up the garbage Wednesday mornings, I never knew".
But then a faint smell passed by his nose. Some kind of alcohol, not just any kind, ale. and by the heaviness of it, it smelled like...like... like Dwarven ale. He searched around to find as many as he could but only found one broken cask. Most of its contents had either been drank by the orcs or spilled on the ground.
"Just a little left. enough to fill a skin".
Torner emptied his water on the ground and drained the last little bit of ale into his skin, then looked at the skin of ale.
" OH what the #$@&, I deserve it"
He took a big swig of the ale. Then he dropped a silver coin into the broken cask.
" let no one say I 'in't pay fer my booze".
This had been an interesting diversion for him, but had slowed him down and he needed to make up time if he planed to get to Bottemburn by noon yet, So he rounded up his horse and sped off to Bottemburn singing...
HEAR ME NOW, OH THOU BLEAK AND UNBEARIBLE WORLD.
THOU ARE BAICHED AND DEBOUCHED AS CAN BE...
AND A KNIGHT WITH HIS BANNER SO BRAVLY UNFURLLED,
NOW HURLES DOWN HIS GAUNLET TO THEA...
The singing fades as he rides away...