“These ‘ere barracks look like bloody stables” said Sylud in disgust. He threw his

gear onto the bunk that had been allocated to him. He followed by saying to the

soldier who had the top bunk “an’ you ‘ad better not be a bed pisser!”

“Looks quite cozy to me,” Grunth had said.

“Yeah, but you’re from Geshtei,” Sylud had answered.

Their first ten-day in Sitarny had been spent marching around the region, getting to

know all the hamlets, roads and trails that crisscrossed the region, under the command

of Senior Legionnaire Rolun.

“See cross that river, that’s Rethem. ‘An over there, ‘cross the Thard, that’s

Kanday,” he had said.

They had seen several ruined villages, destroyed in recent wars with Rethem but had

not been resettled. They also discovered that the Agrikan fighting order, the Cohorts

of Gashang, owned several manors to their immediate north. Rolun had tried to

explain the complicated situation that existed between Rethem and Tharda,

complicated further by some split in the Agrikan church. Sylud was completely lost.

“I don’t unnerstand Senior. “Ow do we tell which side those bastards are on? Ours

or Rethem’s?” he asked.

“The ones that aren’t trying to roast you over a fire are on our side,” Rolun had said,

then added “…probably.”

They also discovered that one of their duties was to man the toll house on the bridge

across Sitarny Stream. Here they collected tolls from people passing to and from

Themeson. Other than that, they spent time standing sentry-go at the fort, or taking

care of the hundred and one tasks that Sergeant Kethad seemed to be able to find for

them. In their spare time they gambled, studied their letters under Nico’s tutelage or

practiced weapons drill in the courtyard.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Halfway through the second ten-day of Ilvin, with the weather getting gradually

getting colder and the first winter snows seen on the Rayeshas, they were roused by

Sergeant Kethad. A local villager had come to the fort for help. Apparently some

strange happenings had been taking place at their hamlet, a sleepy little place less than

half an hours walk from Sitarny. Sergeant Kethad had ordered their squad to go with

the man and “take care of things there”

“So, what ‘as been ‘appening then?” Sylud asked the farmer.

“Strange ‘appenings. All the laying chickens ‘ad their eggs broke in the night,” he

said.

“Wot, all of dem at the same time?” asked Grunth.

“Aye, and that’s not all. One lass ‘ad all her washing trampled into th’ mud after she

left it unattended for a minute because she ‘eard someone talking nearby an’ went to

see who it was.”

“Sounds like kids playing tricks,” said Nico.

“That’s wot we thought, but the next day another girl ‘eard her own mother calling

‘er name. She was milking the goats. When she got back the pail ‘ad been kicked

over,” said the farmer.

“That ‘ardly sounds suspicious,” said Sylud, “the goat kicked it over.”

“No it didn’t. They’s were tied up away from where she left the bucket. ‘An what’s

more, the girl’s mother ‘adn’t called her. Then last night in the middle ‘o the night

we ‘eard footsteps on roof. Little scurrying footsteps.”

“Sound’s like Boggles t’me,” said Sylud, making the sign of protection from ill-luck

over his heart.

“Wot the fuck is a Boggle?” asked Grunth.

“Yes, pray tell Sylud” added Lothar.

“You bumpkins ‘ave never ‘eard of Boggles? They’s are little fairy folk who runs up

and down the roof and cause all sorts ‘o mischief. Least aways they are in Coranan,”

explained Sylud.

“Nah, Sounds more like a fox or a badger,” said Nico.

“Wot, a badger wot can talk? Nope, mark my words, sounds like Boggle trouble

t’me,” said Sylud.

“Then we will just have to investigate and find out who the miscreant is,” Lothar said,

in that tone that usually meant that he didn’t believe a word that Sylud had said.

Once at the hamlet they asked the obvious questions of the locals and at the end were

none the wiser. The day progressed without them being able to discover anything that

may give them a clue as to what was causing the strange occurrences, although they

still asked the odd question of the villagers and watched Lothar frighten the children.

Sitting around the well, the four legionnaires were still wondering what could

possibly be causing all the mischief.

“I still think it is an animal of some sorts,” said Nico.

“Nope! I reckon it is a fairy or a ghost,” Sylud insisted.

“Shut up about them damn Boggies,” said Grunth.

“They’s are Boggles!” Sylud shot back.

“I prefer to think that there is some more plausible explanation.” put in Lothar.

A scream rent the afternoon air and from one farmhouse the matron of the home

emerged, running to the four legionnaires in panic.

“Someone stole me pie. I made a pie and went to get water, and it is gone, Dish an’

all!,”

A quick investigation of the house showed that the pie had indeed been taken, and the

miscreant had left not a crumb to mark his passing. The villagers were getting

somewhat jumpy and insisted that the legionnaires “do something”.

“So your badger likes blueberry pie as well does he, Nico?” Sylud asked somewhat

sarcastically.

“Well, perhaps it wasn’t a badger then,” Nico allowed.

“Not unless it was a fucking clever one,” Grunth added.

Lothar took charge somewhat and declared that he would stand sentry around the

hamlet that night, while two others slept in the house of a village family. Lothar and

Nico volunteered to be the ones who spent the night outside.

“Bugger that,” said Grunth to Sylud. “They are welcome to it. It’ll be cold enough to

freeze their balls off”

“Not that they’d miss ‘em, aye Grunth!” laughed Sylud.

The next morning, Lothar and Nico told the tale of hearing footsteps, and seeing wood

knocked off a woodpile and of a number of half-plucked but still living chickens.

This caused the villagers even more consternation and it was all the four of them

could do to keep them calm.

“We definitely heard something moving about,” Lothar said.

“And somethin’ plucked those chooks. What in the name of th’ Gods would ‘ave done

that?” asked Sylud, “p’haps we should go back to Sitarny and tell th’ Captain what

we ‘ave found.”

“Good idea Sylud, you go. We will continue investigations here,” Lothar had said.

Sylud had jogged back to the fort at Sitarny and presented himself to Sergeant

Kethad.

“So what have you discovered Legionnaire?” asked Kethad.

“Well, what th’ farmers said was true an’ other things ‘ave ‘appened as well. Chooks

getting plucked but not killed, fr’instance.”

“So what was causing all this mischief?” Kethad asked again somewhat impatiently as

Sylud stood uncomfortably before him.

“Well, umm, Nico thinks it was a badger, an’ Lothar seems to think it is a person

sneaking around like a tinker or somethin’ like that, an’ I think it may be a ghost or a

Boggle,” Sylud said in a rush.

“A what?”

“A Boggle, Sergeant, It’s a little…”

“I don’t care what it is!” Kethad shouted, “Get back there and make sure your squad

gets this sorted. Then report back. I can’t go telling the Captain that a Boogy is

terrorizing our citizens.”

“That’s a Boggle Sergeant”

“I don’t care what the fuck you call it Legionnaire!! Get it sorted!”

Sylud walked back to the hamlet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back at the hamlet, the four decided that the best course of action was to try to catch

the intruder between them. To this end Sylud and Lothar hid in the fields while Nico

and Grunth held position within the hamlet. The moon was full and there were no

clouds. Visibility was good and they were quietly confident that they would catch the

villain red-handed.

Sylud was yawning when Lothar dug an elbow into his ribs and pointed towards the

hamlet. Very quietly he whispered “Look, just above the roofline. There!”

Sylud peered into the darkness. There, just showing above the roofline they could

make out the head and shoulders of a man. Lothar mimed with his fingers “we sneak

up and get it.”

Inching their way forward Lothar and Sylud each made their way to a position close

enough to ensure a hit with their javelins. Sylud slowly rose and drew back his arm.

With a nod from Lothar they both launched their javelins. Sylud was sure he had hit

the intruder but Grunth’s cry of alarm as two javelins struck the ground near where he

was standing told them that they had missed. Drawing their blades they ran to each

side of the house so the intruder could not drop off the roof and escape.

They could see nothing on the roof so Lothar climbed up a woodpile and pulled

himself onto the thatch. Sylud ran to where he could see the entire side of the house

closest to the village square. From the roof he heard Lothar shout down that “there

looks like a hole in the thatch”.

At that moment a great commotion broke out inside the house. The sounds of a man

shouting, women and children screaming and animals in panic could be heard. Above

it all was a strange maniacal babbling that chilled the blood. Nico and Grunth opened

the door to peer inside but seemed reluctant to enter. Sylud ran up, shouldered Grunth

aside and went in. Inside the house all was in chaos and Sylud could not make out

who was who in the darkness. He took to grabbing at people and only letting them go

once he recognized them.

Grunth had followed Sylud inside and suddenly shouted out “It’s behind me! Nico!

The Door!” Grunth swung his sword as he spun around but missed whatever it was

that had dropped from the rafters behind him. Nico swore an oath and shouted that it

had got past him. Making their way outside they saw Lothar jump from the roof and

sprint off into the darkness. Sylud, hared off after him.

Sylud saw that Lothar was chasing a small stooped figure but could not make out

much more than that. Suddenly Lothar pulled up and thrust forward with his blade.

When Sylud got to him, expecting to see a body at his feet, all he found was Lothar

staring at his sword, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What the hell was that thing?” Grunth asked for the umpteenth time.

“It was fucking ugly, that’s for sure. It had horns!” Nico had gotten a pretty good

look at the monster.

“Well, twas no badger, that’s for sure! It was some sort o’ Ivashu. I’ve seen ‘em at

the games in Coranan. ‘Cept the ones I saw weren’t two feet high and they ripped

this poor bastard’s ‘ead off.” Sylud said, shuddering at the memory of his one and

only trip to the Pamesani Arena.

“I think that Sylud may be right in this,” Lothar nodded in Sylud’s direction, “but if it

is an Ivashu we may need help.”

“I think we should go back an’ see the Captain,” Sylud said.

The next morning Nico and Grunth stayed to try and keep the villagers reassured that

something was being done, while Lothar and Sylud made their way back to Sitarny.

Once there they sought out Sergeant Kethad.

“So have you sorted their problem out?” the sergeant asked.

“Not exactly Sergeant,” said Lothar, “but we have discovered that the creature was

some sort of Ivashu.”

“Do you need more men to deal with it? I can send a few archers if you think that

they would help you catch it.”

“No Sergeant. I don’t think it would matter if we ‘ad the entire company there. I ‘it

the thing with my javelin, I’m sure of it, an’ I’m the best javelin man in the company,”

Sylud said, then added, “but my javelin didn’t do nothing to it.”

“Sylud’s correct, Sergeant. I ran it through with my sword but nothing happened to

it. It is not a normal creature,” said Lothar.

“P’haps the villagers ‘ave done somthin’ to attract the monster,” pondered Sylud.

“Listen, use whatever means necessary to get this sorted,” the sergeant said.

“P’haps we can get that Friar Uday to do an exorcism or somethin’ like that. Or if

the villagers ‘ave done somethin’ to bring that monster ‘ere we can question them.

Sarge, can we beat information out o’ them?” Sylud asked.

“If that is necessary then yes,” said the Sergeant. Lothar looked uncomfortable but

said nothing at that stage. The sergeant then added, “Now go and find some way of

getting rid of that Ivashu.”

Once outside Lothar turned to Sylud and said “we are not going to beat anything out

of anyone. It is against my beliefs to do that.”

“Don’t be such a soft-arse, Lothar. They’s are ‘iding somethin’. I am sure o’ that.

Why else is that creature only visitin’ their village?”

“I am not gong to be party to the beating of Thardic citizens,” Lothar reiterated.

“In Coranan that sort of thing ‘appened all the time. It’s what goes on. Peoni

preserve us, where ‘ave you been livin’ all your life?”

The conversation as to what they should do and how they should do it continued all

the way back to the hamlet…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Written By: Brian Smaller (a.k.a Sylud of Maladon)