Draconic Shenanigans Episode 2

 Well life has been a mixed bag at the moment. Progress is being made on the shed/studio with some of the insulation layer going in. This is being a little time consuming as it involves pin tacking the fleece into place but it seems to be working. I decided to go for fleece after discovering that some forms of polymer foam insulation are the most flammable substances on the planet, the Grenfell Tower Fire being a case in point. As I had no idea what type of polymer foam boards had been originally used to insulate my shed I decided to play it safe and replace the lot. After all, it had been through a previous house move and was sixteen years old so I figured it needed an upgrade.

On the downside I have discovered that the marine ply that forms the inner most skin has started flaying its layers apart and is also going moldy as I had no choice but to store it out in the rain. Therefore I have a lot of extra work on my hands as I'm going to salvage what I can before buying new stuff. Sigh, one step forward, two back.

Never the less, we have had another play in Draconic Shenanigans so here is chapter two:

Chapter Two: Country Roads

If Kaelin noticed Jeremiah being less than polite at the breakfast table then she didn't mention it, chalking it up to the lack of sleep he'd had last night. That and she was more concerned with stuffing down as much of the food the few remaining staff members had prepared as she could. Jeremiah had made sure that he was sat on the same side of the table, even if it was as far away from her as possible to avoid the flying pieces. The mess creation came to a halt when the main door banged open and the armor statue filled the door way. Kaelin saw Jeremiah freeze and as the armor statue stalked across the room he slowly pushed his plate down the table to Kaelin.

"I'm suddenly not hungry. Hartseer here" he muttered with a nod to the armor statue, "Has that affect on my appetite." Kaelin shrugged and started stuffing Jeremiah's food into her maw as fast as she could as Hartseer reached their table. Hartseer shifted the load he was carrying over one shoulder and revealed it to be a man held up by the back of his shirt. It had the effect of scrunching said shirt up under his arms and pulling it half up over his face.

"His Majesty states that this one," Hartseer said, his tone the one most people would have used to say 'this dead dog', "Is to join your crew." He lowered the man to his feet, released his collar and left while the man pulled his clothes straight and brushed them down.  Once Jeremiah was sure that Hartseer was gone he reached out to reclaim his plate from Kaelin. Her knife sprouted from the table top just in front of his hand. With a sigh he withdraw his hand and tucked them carefully up his sleeves, wincing as he did so.

"Forgive our ill mannered friend," he nodded at Kaelin, "She is making up for a depraved childhood."

In answer Kaelin ripped an extra large chunk out with her teeth and chewed with her mouth open, somehow smiling as she did so as Jeremiah shuddered.

"Do you have a name?" he asked their new companion.

"Ulrich Brekka," the man smiled and doffed a non-existent hat, "Gentleman of fortune and despite the circumstances of our meeting, fortunate to be here."

"Yeah well," Kaelin shrugged, "That would be all of us."

"Jeremiah Maat," Jeremiah stood to hold out his hand, "Our ill mannered friend is Kaelin and upstairs is one Thorian Vandervast but I don't think he will be joining us today. He discovered the delights of firewater last night and it seems to have had the effect of a sledgehammer to the skull for him."

"Oh the joys of strong liquor," Ulrich grinned as he shook Jeremiah's hand, "They are so many that the Gods saw fit to punish us for them. Are you troubled by a similar condition my friend?"

"Unfortunately not," Jeremiah sat with a wince and rolled back his sleeve, "I had an argument with someone last night and they left their mark. I don't suppose you know any healing methods that could speed things up?"

"Phew," Ulrich whistled as he looked at the stained bandages on Jeremiah's arms, "I'm afraid all my knowledge of such things just says get to a healer and sooner."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Jeremiah was glum, "But I tell you what hurts more? My feet. I don't think I have ever walked as far as I did yesterday."

"Ah well," Ulrich brightened at once, "Surely it will be easy enough to procure a conveyance from this establishment?"

"Doubt it," Kaelin burped, leaned back and started to pick her teeth, "Just about everyone here ran off to the abbey last night to help out with the 'accidental' fire." She looked pointedly at Jeremiah, who just as pointedly looked away.

"Better and better," Ulrich still smiled, rising to his feet again, "I work better with a smaller audience." He doffed his non-existent hat again and strolled outside whistling. He lent up against the wall, exuding the air that he belonged there. Despite this the first group into the yard didn't truly believe that he was the new stable master and would see to their horses, preferring to look after their animals themselves. Ulrich retreated, knowing not to push his luck as the Lady of Fortune seemed to be upset with him recently. As he waited he began to distinctly hear a loud crowd heading down the road. He frowned. He could hear voices but not footsteps. That meant voices raised, which was either a traveling festival or a lot of people who were really angry. After a while, as the sounds of footfalls and cart wheels mixed in with the voice sounds he started picking out words such as 'filthy murderer' and 'hell spawned demon'.  He carefully stepped back into the shadows of the stables. That did mean that he was cornered if he was rushed but as he was damn sure he hadn't murdered anyone, he considered himself fairly safe from the mobs outrage. It would be better to stay still for a while rather than run and give the mob a moving target.

In the tavern, Kaelin cocked an ear and listened intently for a minute.

"Anything interesting?" Jeremiah asked without looking up from his contemplation of his injuries. Kaelin's only answer was to grab the bread left on the table and bolt for the back door. Jeremiah frowned and then shrugged, looking around for any food Kaelin hadn't demolished. It was as he was hunting out something else for breakfast that he heard the angry voices coming from outside the Inn. A glance out the window revealed a crowd of sweaty, grubby, soot stained and above all, angry people, including the owl lady who ran the Inn. Deciding to err on the side of caution he followed Kaelin's example, though at a much slower pace, trying to sidle round to the side of the building as he didn't see Kaelin between the Inn and the woods. Unfortunately for him his clothes, his build and his face did not fit the profile of a sidler.

"There he is!" the yell and several dozen faces turning in his direction let Jeremiah know he'd been seen. Turning to run he soon realized that all the trappings of abbot were going to slow him down far too much as the mob was gaining ground distressingly fast. With a choked sob he tore the chain of office from around his neck and flung it to the ground, wobbling towards the wood with a little more speed. The sounds of foot falls behind him let him know that he wasn't going to make it. He turned and gasped a hasty prayer to his god for confusion on his enemies.

"There he goes!" a bunch of the mob tore off in a new direction.

"You idiots!" another bunch roared, "He's there!" Jeremiah breathed a sigh of relief that his god had relented in their ire and had granted his request, continuing the waddle towards the woods as the mob behind dissolved into confusion and conflict as each person  believed that they and they alone had seen the real Jeremiah disappear in a direction different to the one he'd actually taken.  He waddled among the trees for a way and then lent up against a tree trunk to catch his breath, making sure to keep its wooden bulk between him and the mob.

Ulrich watched the mob with interest. He wasn't entirely sure why the mob had gone from being ready to tear his new companion limb from limb to this boiling sea of mismanaged aggression but he wasn't above taking advantage of it. Plastering a concerned look on his face he slipped out of the stables and ran back down the line of the carts and wagons to the one on the end of the row, were the orc crossbreed in the leather waistcoat was struggling to hold the horses heads as the beasts were spooked by the growing noise and stink of confusion.

"Here," Ulrich said, snatching hold of the halters and adding his weigh to holding them. A couple of minutes of quiet murmuring and stroking had settled them enough that they were standing steady, though their ears twitched and their tails flicked as their legs quivered.

"You go," Ulrich said to the orc crossbreed, "They need you to hold the bastard, he's a right fighter!" The orc crossbreed hesitated for a second, indecision flickering over his face and then he dropped the reins and dashed off towards the malstorm near the Inn. Clicking his tongue, Ulrich started leading the horses off down the road away from the Capital, the abbey and now the Inn.  Once you were away from the noise, it was quite a lovely early morning, the sky clear and not cold. He found himself smiling with the simple joys of life as he lead his new team and wagon way from all the pointless noise and fuss. He wasn't even that surprised when the sullen faced young woman who had been introduced as Kaelin appeared out of the hedgerow as if she'd just sprouted from it.

"Ah, I was hoping you'd appear," he smiled, "I think you'd be much better at this job than I am." He extended the reins to her. The look he got back was flat enough to be unfriendly.

"The only thing I know about horses is that they make good eating," Kaelin stated and then walked down  to the tailgate and swung herself up on to the wagon bed. She lent against the side and looked at him.

"Well, are we going to get along then?" she gestured sarcastically. After an wordless exclamation that was part surprise, part disgust and part outrage Ulrich set off down the road, muttering about peasants and 'horse eaters'.

In the woods, Jeremiah straightened as he re-caught his breath. Listening for a moment, he reassured himself that the mob at the inn was still too confused to organize a successful hunt but he decided to keep low as he made his way through the woods and back to the road. It was a decision he re-evaluated several times as he squeezed passed trees that left green powder on his clothes, squelched through mud, stepped in something that stank and fell on his back side as something with feathers and a yell loud enough to wake the dead spun up from the brambles shrieking at him. By the time he hauled himself through the hedge and out on to the road he wasn't sure whether he wanted to scream, cry or kill someone. A flicker of white in the corner of his vision made him stamp down on the last impulse and he instead looked for his companions. He waited and waited... and waited. He frowned, it didn't sound like the mob was hanging them so where were they? He turned and felt his mouth falling open as he spotted the wagon trundling away from him in the distance. He bit back the urge to scream obscenities at them as the mob at the Inn was beginning to reform into a crowd and he really didn't want their attention again, hitched up his robes and set off at a suffering run behind the wagon.

Kaelin lay in the back of the wagon, gazing up at the sky with her hands behind her head. The creak of the wheels, the steady clop clop of horses and the squeak of harness leather was very soothing to one that had gone on short sleep the night before. In her dreamy, half awake state she wasn't fully aware of something out of place until she distinctly heard a gasped curse word that referred to her grandfather. She looked round in surprise, wondering who shared her opinion of her unlamented grand sire. Jeremiah, shining like a cherry, sweating like a hog in a muck heap, was waddling with some speed towards them along the road, puffing and blowing hard enough to put a blacksmith's bellows to shame.

"Stop the wagon moment," she called to Ulrich, "We forgot someone." Ulrich halted the horses and looked round as the lost jelly that was Jeremiah wobbled and shook its way up to the wagon and threw itself on to the wagon bed with no regard for Kaelin's efforts to get her legs out of the way. He lay on the wagon bed and heaved and gasped for air. Ulrich raised his eyebrows but then swung himself up on to the driver's seat. He gripped the reins, clicked his teeth, slapped the reins down on the horses' rumps... and promptly steered the wagon into the ditch.

"Hell's teeth!" Kaelin swore as the lurch threw her against the sweating hillock that was Jeremiah.

"Told you that you would be better at this job than I would be," Ulrich observed as he swung himself down and went to the horses' heads, "Now if I lead and you would be kind enough to push from behind, with a little luck and a lightened load..."

Jeremiah groaned and slithered feet first out of the wagon. As he and Kaelin put their shoulders to the tailgate of the wagon he thought he saw a white figure standing on the far side of the field beyond the hedge, watching them with avid interest.

"Why don't you come and help instead of just watching?" he yelled but the figure didn't move and when he saw Kaelin frowning as if she wondered if he was going crazy he grumbled something and put his shoulder to the tail gate. The first heave ho resulted in him sitting on the road and the wagon still being stuck in the ditch. Jeremiah took the deep breath of the eternally put upon.  The second managed to heave the wagon back on to the road. Without asking Jeremiah heaved himself up into the cart and screwed himself into the corner with the air of one who does not mean to move for the rest of the day. Ulrich had joined him before Kaelin had realized that he was moving. He smiled at her and gestured for her to take the drivers' seat. Kaelin shrugged, settled herself in the driver's seat, took up the reins... and snarled at the horses.

With screams of absolute terror the horses bolted. Jeremiah tumbled along the wagon bed and just managed to grab hold of the side as he pitched out, resulting in him hanging on by his finger tips as his legs splooshed through a mud puddle and brown water splashed up from the wagon wheels.

"What the dragon do you think you're doing?" Ulrich yelled. In reply Kaelin snarled at the horses again. They plunged forward, mouths open, eyes wide, froth flying from their bits. Jeremiah managed to dig his feet into the mud and skip, scramble and scrabble his way back into the wagon... in time for it to once again crash into the ditch, this time with a sharp crack of splintering wood. Ulrich slammed into the back of the driver's seat with a winded oath. Jeremiah flew forward, caught his lower half on the back of the drivers' seat and wound up head down, wedged between the toe bar and the double tree, feet flapping helplessly in midair. Ulrich leapt out and ran to the horses' heads, having to duck flaying hooves as the horses reared and bucked and lashed out. It was only after Kaelin had left the drivers' seat and retreated down the road a ways that the horses began to calm.  It was more minutes after that before Ulrich was sure he could safely leave the horses and go to pull Jeremiah out from where he'd been having a wonderful, headache inducing inspection of the cracked main axle.

"Sorry old bean," Ulrich said as he helped Jeremiah back on to his feet, "But we're going to need your shoulders again."

Jeremiah looked down at his ruined finery, lifted his arms to heaven in a gesture of defeat and stepped down off the wagon bed. His mouth tightened as Kaelin stepped up beside him and he took that ire out on the wagon with a heave that shoved it complaining back on to the road.

"Nice one," Ulrich complemented, "But we're going to have to take it slow if we're not going to have a broken wagon by the end of the day." With a groan Jeremiah flopped down into the wagon bed and waved a hand in acknowledgement. Kaelin said nothing as she sat down beside him so Ulrich shrugged and turned the horses heads to the road, leading them by the reins to make sure they didn't have any more mishaps.

It was probably due to the noises of protest being sent up from the main axle that none of them saw the unfriendly men waiting either side of the road before it was nearly too late. The bandits burst out of the bushes whooping like mad men. Jeremiah immediately thrust forward a hand and yelled as series of words that curdled in the air like old milk. The shadows boiled forward like smoke from a pyre and one of the bandits reeled back, coughing and hacking, his skin pitted by little burning embers.

On the other side of the wagon one of them swung at Kaelin but missed, his sword tip scrapping down the wood. Kaelin snarled at him but the snarl just kept on going and growing as her bones bubbled and her jaw reformed, fangs springing out of her gums with the sound of nails being hammered through a plank of wood. The bandit opened his mouth to scream...

Kaelin launched herself at him, teeth snapping tight around his face as her body flew passed his ear. Wrenched round by the power of her attack, his neck parted with the sound of shredding meat and the red jumped high.

Ulrich blocked out the attack aimed at his torso and slashed back, one falchion for the block, one for the attack. The bandit he was facing clumsily tried to match his speed and agility but found himself folding over backwards as his ribs parted.

Kaelin leaped from one kill on to the back of the next, fangs and claws now at full extent. Even Jeremiah covered his mouth as she shredded the foe beneath her and the bandit that still clutched at his scorched face sank to his knees and began to babble, eyes fixed on a now unaccompanied arm.

Ulrich turned as a bandit standing on a slight rise pointed a very fancy looking sword at him and tried to yell a rallying cry. Ulrich went to work with a calm precision that defied the violence with which it was executed, cutting the bandits feet out from under him and then removing the man's head as he fell. The last bandit on his feet looked at his leader's rolling head, looked at were the snarling, red splattered thing was rising from the minced remains of one of his friends, turned, grabbed the babbling man by his arm and started running, crashing through the bushes as fast as he could.

Ulrich panted as he waited a beat to make sure they really were gone and then he went to the horses to once again calm them down. The noise of cracking bones made him look round once. He looked away quickly as Kaelin's human face re-emerged from the shape of the other thing that had taken her place. The liquid reforming of flesh made him swallow back rising acid.

"Guess I should have figured it out," he muttered once he was sure of keeping breakfast on the inside of him, "And if you don't mind, could you find some way of cleaning up. While the horses can smell blood on you they are going to freak out."

Kaelin stood looking at his back as if she expected more of a reaction but when he didn't say anything else she shrugged and wandered back down the road a little way to where she'd seen a potter's hole full of water. It turned out it was shoulder deep and through the water was colored with the clay that had been dug out, it did the trick. As for being wet, well she'd been rained on before. Only humans thought they had a right to be dry when ever they wanted to be.

Jeremiah wrinkled his nose when Kaelin walked back but Kaelin walked passed him and settled in the back of the wagon. The now calm horses twitched their ears as they sniffed but they didn't try and bolt. Ulrich breathed a sigh of relief and then called for Jeremiah to come and hold the horses' reins.

"Why?" Jeremiah asked, eyes narrowed.

"Don't worry," Ulrich assured, "I just need both my hands for a moment." The moment Jeremiah had taken hold of the reins Ulrich promptly frisked the body of the first bandit that he'd killed but from his look of disgusted the dead man hadn't been carrying anything of value. The other man however was definitely carrying something of value.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Ulrich asked, turning to his companions, holding aloft the blade the bandit leader had been wielding.

"It's a sword," Kaelin said, sounding bored. Jeremiah looked more closely.

"That's elvish..." he trailed off, frowning as he looked closer. The blade was most definitely elvish but there was something about it that was making alarm bells ring in his mind. Then Ulrich tilted the blade, testing its balance and Jeremiah realized that the edge of the blade, instead of the razor sharp, paper cutting straight edge that would be true elvish, was serrated. It had been deliberately fashioned to inflict as much pain and damage as possible on each and every cut. It had been lovingly made to make the victim scream as they bled out. He remembered books in the abbey library that had recorded the survivors' stories babbled by patients that had claimed to have escaped a sect of elves that seemed to relish pain for pains sake. These crippled individuals raved about cavern cities of tormentors and torturers that seemed to live for nothing but inflicting as much agony on their victims as possible.  Not one of the survivors had lasted more than a month after they had been found brutalized in the wild lands on the edges of civilization, their minds so broken by what they had endured that their bodies had failed despite the best nursing care that could be give to them.

"I'd keep that if I were you," Jeremiah nodded slowly, "I'd keep that very safe. It is the very best craftsmanship I'd judge, probably worth more than anything else we have put together..."

"Keep it?" Ulrich interrupted, "You nuts? I'm going to sell this beauty as soon as I see someone rich enough to sell it to."

"Well, that's your choice as it's yours by right of conquest," Jeremiah tried his best to imitate Kaelin's 'I don't give a hoot shrug', while secretly wiping his brow the moment Ulrich's back was turned.

"Well," Ulrich grinned once he finished strapping on his new sword belt, "Shall we get on? I'd say it is shaping up to be a beautiful day." He took the reins from Jeremiah and led the wagon off, whistling a jaunty tune. Jeremiah sat back down in the wagon bed and wondered if he should tell his companion what exactly their whistling friend was now carrying but Kaelin seemed to have gone to sleep already. Jeremiah pulled out the book he had taken from the abbey, flicking through the pages to where he'd left off the night before the guards had kicked his door in.

The  wagon creaked on down the lane, bird song blending with Ulrich's tune.