#1
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The Arrival
Fisher's Pool Your long journey across rugged landscapes has finally brought you to Fisher’s Pool. Coincidently enough you all arrive within a few hours of each other, and although you don’t meet immediately, the town is abuzz with the news of your arrival. You soon hear of each others presence however, by way of the eager villagers who press close to you as you ride down the small main street. Among pleas for help by widowed women and childless fathers you are directed to the Skewered Boar Tavern near the center of town where lodging has already been purchased for you.The village itself is situated right up against the Turask River on the west side of town, and a harbor complete with docks and a small marina has been built out into the main current. It is obvious that the primary occupation of these people comes from the resources that the river provides. It is also obvious however, that something is terribly wrong here. Even without your previous knowledge of the terrible tragedy that plagues this village, there are still plenty of things that would have clued you in had you been a casual passerby. A newly erected wall, built of vertical logs harvested from the nearby forest and still weeping sap, cordons off the perimeter of the town. As you near the raised gate to the entrance of the town, you also notice a huge number of freshly dug graves in the graveyard situated a few yards outside the walls. Guard towers stand within the boundaries of the walls in key locations, situated to face outward towards the forest and surrounding countryside. Even in daylight they are occupied by not one, but two archers who watch your approach from some distance off. During the harvesting of the logs for the wall, you notice that the villagers chose the trees closest to the village, leaving a swath of bare ground a good fifty feet between them and the shadows of the trees. It is a strategy you have seen many times during warfare to keep the enemy from having any cover with which to conceal himself while approaching. It also leaves no overhanging trees to allow easy access over the walls. The overall atmosphere is that this place is under siege by an invisible army. If the tactical aspects were not enough, then surely the townsfolk’s reactions would have served to alert you to the distress that is so prevalent in their lives since the killings began. The mixture of greetings, bordering from closed mouth suspicion to overt adulation leaves you feeling slightly disoriented. By the time you reach the tavern, you would not have been surprised if someone were to offer you the life of their firstborn. Dismounting and gathering your gear you hand your reigns over to a stable boy and push through the small mob of villagers to reach the front door to the Skewered Boar. It is a decent sized building standing two stories tall, and besides the church, which is located directly in the center of town, is the largest building within the walls of Fisher’s Pool. The crowd mercifully disperses once you are through the door and into the smoky interior. A fireplace smolders against one wall and poor ventilation creates a thick haze which hangs only a few inches above your head and all but conceals the ceiling. True to its name, a skewered pig is situated over the slow flame and drips fat onto the sizzling coals creating an aroma that causes your stomach to growl. Several oil lamps hang from the ceiling, illuminating the interior to a dim twilight glow and three long banquet tables run down the center of the room. Benches situated to each side allow for what you would guess would be close to the towns remaining population to sit comfortably. A long bar parallels the wall opposite the door and a young woman stands behind it, her head lowered to a book that is placed on the polished bar top before her. When you enter she looks up and you are struck by her beauty. Long, red hair frames a pale face dotted here and there with freckles and her body, partially concealed behind the bar is of the caliber that most men dream about. “Welcome to the Boar stranger!” She speaks with a feint accent that only adds to her allure. “I’d ask what brings you out this way, but from the crowd outside, I think I already know. Care for a drink?”
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Stop by and visit the DnDOG Short Story Competition in the Library. Show your support by voting for the story of the month! Last edited by Klazzform; Oct 25th, 2011 at 12:40 AM. |
#2
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It had been a long journey from Snowhaven. Almost nine hundred miles through some of the most inhospitable forests in the world. William is exhausted, but is far better off than his poor horse. Upon reaching Fisher’s Pool, William is astonished by the defenses the village had established. But he seriously doubts if walls and archers could protect the villagers from a hellish beast with a taste for human flesh. The creature hunted both day and night, impossible behavior for even a dire wolf. What he was hunting was something far more ferocious -- perhaps a dreaded displacer beast. The smoky interior of the Skewered Boar Tavern reminds him of the taverns in Snowhaven. He feels a bit more at home now, in a land that is relatively foreign to him. The young woman behind the bar also reminds William of his deceased wife in her younger days. Her red hair reminds him of that of his wife before it had grown gray with age. And you would guess correctly, lass. I'll just have a beer.
Last edited by Stormhammer; Oct 25th, 2011 at 12:14 PM. |
#3
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As Magnus approaches the town of Fisher's Pool he cannot stop and think back to the last time he came here with his father and brothers for trade supplies. Marveling at the changes, Manus pats his horse Honor and leads him into town.
After giving Honor to the stable hand Magnus heads to the Skewered Boar Taveren. Upon opening the door Magnus gives a quick once over of the room and sees that it is quite empty execpt for the young lady behind the counter and one other person, who Magnus takes as a fellow adventure. Slightly taken aback by the beauty of the young woman, Magnus nods his head toward the only other person in the room and states "I'll take a beer and some food if you please." Magnus then takes a chair with his back to the wall where he can see the door. |
#4
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Sigve had decided to dismount and walk his horse up from the town’s newly erected gates, as this had given the Northman a chance to both stretch his aching muscles and gauge the dispositions of the villagers by looking straight into their eyes. What Sigve saw in the townsfolk he did not like, as it reminded him all too much of the despondency seen in people who have recently succomed to war. The town reeked of fear and despair, and Sigve was certain the demonspawn that was still preying upon the populace was reveling in the stench.
Ack, damn horse, Sigve thought as the muscles on his inner thighs flared painfully. The last time I rode was nine years ago, when we chased down the Harfelder brigands. But, at least I haven’t had to wear my mail the last few days…I’ll grant you that, you stupid beast. Three days prior, Sigve had been accosted by a group of Kingsmen riding the highway. Disdainful and sneering, the fools had challenged the Northman’s resolution…this after they had informed the warrior of their master’s call for hunters. Sigve would have been immediately done with and away from the southern jays if not for one particular dolt laying a condescending hand upon the northerner’s shoulder. Struck in the temple by the butt of Sigve’s bryntroll, the offender had dropped like a sacrificial ox at Audmuntide. After that, the fellow’s companions couldn’t unstring and offer a packhorse to the Northman fast enough. Mumbling a few apologies and some general directions to Fisher's Pool, the southerners had made a hasty departure. Having relinquished his pack and large gear into the care of a stableboy, Sigve gingerly stepped into the town’s over-large inn. With bryntroll and langsax tucked into his worn leather belt, the Northman strode into the inn’s main hall and espied two others who fit the southern town just as well as himself…that is, not at all. Keeping their distance from both each other and the door, the weathered men had discernably cold, hard eyes. Not men to provoke, Sigve thought to himself. Striding over to the comely wench standing behind the hall’s bar, Sigve paused and looked the woman up and down after listening to her overly welcoming introduction. Reaching into his coin purse, the fighter pulled out a copper and placed it on the bar. “Bitter ale, woman…and a word. When did the demon first come to this town?” Last edited by Landifarne; Oct 27th, 2011 at 01:23 AM. |
#5
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The ale is good and the company is better. The barmaid, who’s name you learn is Cinder, proves to be a stimulating conversationalist, as well as a superb innkeeper. She serves you plates of steaming pulled pork topped with some sort of spicy red sauce and the ale is actually chilled, a rarity anywhere this far south. She explains that she keeps it in a well dug into the middle of the kitchen floor.
“It goes down over two hundred feet and the water is close to ice down there.” She says. “My husband built a cage to lower goods down into its depths. The waters good too! We…I, make the ale from it.” She smiles, but her eyes briefly betray an inner sadness. “Keeps the customers coming back.” When Sigve inquires about the beast, her gaze drops to the bar top. “It's come almost every night for the last three and a half monthscycles. We hear it out in the dark, moving around, or growling. It hasn’t taken a victim for two days, but that’s not necessarily a good sign.” She looks up at your faces and fear is evident on her features for the first time since you entered the inn. “It usually makes up for lost time when it does decide to strike.”
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Stop by and visit the DnDOG Short Story Competition in the Library. Show your support by voting for the story of the month! Last edited by Klazzform; Oct 27th, 2011 at 10:15 PM. |
#6
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William looks at the girl sympathetically. He lost his own grandson to the hellish beast, knowing fully the pain of personal tragedy. From her reaction, William assumes that Cinder may have well lost her husband to the creature, a wound not quick to heal. Tell me lass. Has anyone seen the beast and lived to tell of it?
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#7
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Cinder shakes her head as she continues to polish the bar tops already flawless surface. The activity seems to soothe her somewhat. "Only quick glimpses. We know whatever it is walks on four legs and is large, with black fur. Some people claim it has a human face, but I think that’s nonsense. I could not imagine any human inflicting such terrible damage.”
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Stop by and visit the DnDOG Short Story Competition in the Library. Show your support by voting for the story of the month! |
#8
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William shakes his head. He knows that the fear and panic of the villagers would create distorted facts about what the creature looks like and what it is capable of doing. Unfortunately, nobody in Snowhaven had ever seen the creature, so William wasn't sure what he was hunting. Unless we are dealin' with a werewolf, the human face people have seen is probably the product of panic.
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#9
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After finishing his meal and grabbing his ale Magnus walks up to Cinder and walks up to the bar, Thank you very much for the food and drink. I cannot help but overhear your discussion. Giving the man talking to Cinder the once over Magnus extends his hand in greeting My name is Magnus Ironborn. It seems to me that we are giving case to the same beast that slayed my family. Maybe we could combine forces to end this terrible nightmare.
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#10
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William shakes hands with Magnus in a show of mutual respect. William Wood of Snowhaven. I have been trackin' the beast for a year with no success. William turns to face Cinder again. It would seem that Magnus and myself should have a word with the lord of Fisher’s Pool. Where may we find him?
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#11
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Sigve had listened to the others' exchange. Rising from his meal, the Northman paused and weighed his words as he assessed his apparent companions on this hunt.
For many years Sigve had heard conflicting rumors of an old woodsman who lived with his wife in the forests near Snowhaven, but the warrior did not know the forester’s name or description. Settling his eyes on the elder of the two strangers who had introduced themselves, Sigve guessed that the Reeve of Burningwoods probably matched this William in most respects. Exhibiting obvious signs of competence and solidity, the older man projected a certain aura of strength and self-assurance in some indescribable fashion. Worldly and wise, the fellow had little apparent trouble sounding out the inn’s proprietress. Now, this Magnus was a bull of a man! Strong in thews and large in stature, the outlander looked capable of crushing a man with his bare arms. Of obvious martial prowess, Sigve wondered how many enemies the warrior had dispatched in his time. Young and still adventurous, the rover had probably never found a place to settle in to, and thus could not fathom the townsfolks’ feelings of despair and loss; but that mattered little, as perhaps what was needed now was a strong, determined fist. Perhaps this William could lead them to the beast, and Magnus forestall the creature long enough for Sigve to sink Grolminir down the thing’s neck and avenge his dear Thuli… “Thank you for the meal and drink, wo-, er…Cinder. I see, clear on your face, that you have also felt loss at the fangs of the beast. Would it were not so for both of us, and for many in this town. But, we will bring the creature to an end.” To the older man, Sigve proclaimed “I am Sigve, son of Sigvaard. Well met, and strength to you, William. I too have tracked this beast south, but to no avail. But, now we are within reach!" "And health to you, Magnus Outlander," Sigve remarked, addressing the man, "may we ALL bring this creature to account for its depredations." "I think it strange that the beast has been seen here in Fisher's Pool,” said Sigve more to himself than to any of the others, “for no one before has glimpsed the thing. But, at least we have a start.” Then, once more he turned to his new acquaintances. “William,” the warrior asked, a detail in Cinder's description catching his notice, “beasts of the north are not usually dark of color, what make you of that?” Last edited by Landifarne; Oct 30th, 2011 at 01:47 AM. |
#12
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William turns to face the remaining man of strong heart who had ventured into the Skewered Boar looking for vengeance against the beast of the forest. Greetings Sigve, son of Sigvaard. Animals of the north are usually pale in order to blend in with their snowy surroundings. Take the gray wolf, for example. Or the polar bear. This leads me to believe that the beast we hunt isn't native to the area around Snowhaven. Its an animal more suited to temperate climes. Probably why it has been makin' its way south. Snowhaven was not an ideal location. Unfortunately, the area surroundin' Fisher's Pool is quite ideal, which makes the beast all the more dangerous.
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#13
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In response to William’s inquiry directed towards a possible ruler of Fisher’s Pool, Cinder shakes her head. “The sheriff was one of the first people taken by the beast. The crown hasn’t sent us another one yet. They probably don’t see much point until this issue is resolved. There is one man though, who sailed up river a few months ago. A sailor named Sparhawk. He helped us organize our defenses here. The wall and the watchtowers were his ideas, and he has been working in close contact with all of us in an effort to protect this village. If there is anyone still alive in town who could be viewed as a uniting force, he would be it. He lives on his ship, a small schooner named The Morning Glory, which he has docked down at the marina. You could probably find him there if he’s not out with the people somewhere.”
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#14
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William nods his head at Cinder. It was unfortunate that the sheriff was dead, but at least a sailor passing through had stepped up. Between the four of them, they had a proper chance at slaying the foul beast once and for all. William looks at both Magnus and Sigve. Shall we go look for this Sparhawk?
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#15
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"Aye, t'would be wise to visit this Sparhawk. If nothing else, he should be able to shed more light on the beast we face. In the present situation, he must be the hub that all information goes through," Sigve replied to William. "Then, after a meet with Sparhawk, I think it best that we speak with the town's priests. If this be some kind of fiend we face, then we should ask the priests for a boon."
Turning to Cinder once more, Sigve asked the inn keep, "Fru Cinder, I have never been close to the Gods, and they have never shown any interest in me...but could you also direct us to the most puissant priest in town?" "But, before we set out," Sigve advised his companions, "I think it best that we arm ourselves fully. The creature seems to appear randomly and to take people unawares." The son of Sigvaard goes to the stable and retrieves his spear and shield, returning before the party leaves to meet Sparhawk. |
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