Hedge: Reinforcements

Voss grabbed his brother's arm, yanking Damian hard toward the door. "We only have minutes." Clarissa, holding her new born babe, had a shocked expression on her face. She had worn it since Voss had come into the room with blood covered weapons and a wild look in his eyes. "Hello nephew." He said it to the surprisingly quiet package she held. He must be only what - two, three months old? Definitely a strange introduction to his newest family member.

"He is the rightful ruler." His brother's words pierced the tense silence.

"A dead rightful ruler." Voss said it matter-of-factly. Even growing up Voss had been matter-of-fact in that face of Damian's designs and schemes. Damian pulled his arm away - Voss had two choices, tear the arm out of the socket or let it go. He let it go.

It was instinct that led Voss to grab his brother first. If I had any sense I would have grabbed the babe and the parents would have followed. The opportunity was well past, the sister-in-law Lady Carissa pulled the child tighter to her breast. "I will die with my people." She had a certain regal stateless to her, giving commands as though it was presumed they would be obeyed.

"Die a thousand times raped. In battle men have no control over actions. You. Will. Die." Especially to one so beautiful, especially since the men had been bigger each other since no women were available.  

"Fine." She turned away as she said it. Facing the window where assailants were certainly going to kill her sooner rather than later.  

"Fine." The words were his brother's. He knew his brother always schemed for this type of position. To believe his name would be on the mouth's of bards. "

"Fine." Voss repeated the words as he stepped toward Carissa's back. The point drove through the back of her neck - a blow where no scream for help could escape. With his other hand he reached around, grabbing the child from her. She collapsed at his feet, his hand firmly holding the child. He turned toward Damian. "She made her choice, brother. The child has his own life and death. What are the terms of yours."

Voss held the child while pointing his sword at his brother. "You've lost your damn mind." "Your job is protect your child." Voss's brother stared at him. "So you killed my wife?" The statement sounded ridiculous. The statement WAS ridiculous. I just killed my sister-in-law, Voss realized. His brother continued to stare at him. "She would have gotten you all killed." Voss sounded defensive when he said it. Regretful even. His brother mumbled something. Voss lowered his sword slightly in order to drink the strange stight fully.

Voss lowered his bow slightly in order to drink the strange sight fully. Remsfeld stopped, nearly colliding with Voss. EVERYONE stops. A woman tied to a fountain will do that to a man.

"Krom. What devilry is this? Qwyn. I'm shy with women. You have a way with them. Find out if they live. Why they linger here. And if they have seen the shard we seek."

"Gents, I think I've seen this type of honey trap before. Keep your guards up and cover me." Qwyn hiked up his pants and moved forward. Every sense on edge for something out of place.

Qwyn hiked up his pants. Every sense was on edge for something out place. "The best lies have an ounce of truth. The best traps are not traps at all but lies wrapped in an ounce of truth designed to pull at the most base instructions of man." Qywn nodded in agreement while the rest of the class looked around quizzically. Actually that part was not true. The buffoon Rhaul looked focused for once, more than a glimmer of understanding on his dwarven features. Ethical Philosophy was Qwyn's favorite class. There were no right or wrong answers, only the application of information to any given situation. If your child was starving and you had no money for bread, would you steal? That was the simplest question asked in the class so far. As the only one who ever HAD been starving and attempted to steal Qwyn had surpressed his snicker at those in the class who were too honorable to steal. They spoke of doing chores for food or proving the worth to the baker. When your stomach hurts so much you can no longer think, tell me your answer then. Qwyn continued to focus on his instructor's words. As a former tax agent Instructor Hayes often had an interesting tale or to illustrate his point. Once a small villa, the man had a wife who looked like a horse, six ugly daughters and no sons could not pay his takes. What excuse do you think he gave?" Qwyn's hand shot up. It was the only one. Instructor Hayes gave the slightest indicitaiton to the halfling.

"He had no money to pay his three copper taxes since the dowry's for the daughters were so large."

Instructor Hayes smiled. "Correct, dear Qwyn." There was a pause before the next question. "Have you been with a woman, Qwyn?" Qwyn's mouth opened in surprise. He felt his ears turning red, scarlet creeping up his neck. The rest of the classe snickered at the question. Qwyn shook his head no. The good professor then continued. I will tell you something that will keep more coin in your pocket than any other information. Are you interested, Qwyn. Of course! The scarlet disappeared. Well, Qwyn, all women look the same in the dark, a good whore costs five copper, and a fat ugly woman with a family in danger will work to please you like no other. I saved myself two coppers that day and the man kept his farm."

Voss added, trying to break the tension, "And refrain from slipping her YOUR shard. Ha ha." Voss draws full and aims at her as he steps forward towards the fountain with caution.

Qywn continued moving forward, checking perception. Is she awake? Anything? From ten feet away his keen eyesight lets him know she was indeed breathing. Qwyn moved closer. Not exactly sure what he planned. Only that he planned SOMETHING. Magic? No, I would have sensed it.

"If this is what I fear it is I'd be more worried about it getting loped off at this point." Qywn tried to keep it glib. The fountain itself was about ten feet tall. He would have to climb up cut her loose. Though a few well aimed arrows might get her down too. Though it would drop her into whatever is in the fountain.

Alion thought before speaking. It was his way. It was also a difficult question. "You don' believe in God then?" It was more of a statement than a question as Preacher Maine's pin-like black eyes bored holes through Alion.

"No God would let that happen." Alion glared back as hard as he could. It was the glare of a boy up against the glare of a seasoned man.

"Hah! The lament of the weary." Preacher Maine's laugh was deeper and darker sounding than the coals the dwarves dug out from the earth.

Only two weeks and his man laughs. I will never laugh again. Alion promised it to himself. Only fourteen days since they had fled Bridgewater. The first two days were spent traversing small game trails that ran between the small viallages and ponds that the Preacher knew by the back of his hand. The Preacher promised these were good, honest people who would help them. The Preacher had been correct, though Alion noticed he always lied when he said he was traveling to next when he left the villages. The villages had provided two mules for them, along with enough food for a day.

"I have brought God to these people. God has rewarded me." The statement had started the argument when Alion asked where this God was. "See," Preacher Maine said, "I don't save these people. Honor these people before. They don't save and honor us now. That is how God rewards." Alion had become furious. It sounded like a piss-poor reason for his parents and Tiara's death, along with a piss-poor thought that someone they were to blame. He told Preacher Maine as much. "I can see why you think that. I would have thought that are your age." Preacher Maine added emphasis to "at your age" in the same way his father did when he father would lecture him. Though now his father was dead.

"At what age will I think my family dying is just?"

Preacher Maine's eyes widdened at those words, "Never, boy. It never goes away. When you believe God is completely just then you will recall he is not--just--at--all. If you want to survive in this world take no sides, piss in no one else's pot, compliment every ugly maiden because it is all practice. All practice to make sure it comes out friendly and it will sound friendly. You understand?"

"Yes, make people feel better about themselves like a jester in the court." Alion was not sure where the words came from. Only that they came out.

"Yes. You laugh a the jester. The jester always eats. You don't laugh at the jester the jester dies. It is a much easier way to live than coming home with a cheese wheel to take an arrow in your back. Because the Jester, when ain't no one laughing he knows what he is about to get."

"I still don't believe in God." Alion snapped it off.

"God believes in you though. God doesn't test ANY man. A man tests himself when he reacts to how the world treats him. A man makes those decisions. God, God always listens. When you compliment everyone all the time and it becomes second nature...well then God always takes you at your word when you compliment HIM. That is when you can really help others."

Alion took in the words. "When you fool yourself, you fool everyone, everyone including God." Preacher Maine let a grin reveal his rotting teeth. "See. You have religion inside you. I knew it." Alion continued to think.

Alion continued to think. Can we tell if the fountain holds plain water?  Finally he spoke. "Maybe we should test the waters by throwing some bits of boar in."

Qwyn's eyes widdened. "Alion, you are a genius." Qwyn reached into his bag, returning with a fleshy, sapping fresh piece of plant tree. He quietly droped a piece of boar in the fountain.

It made a nice plopping sound as it met the water.

It made a nice plopping sound. Remsfeld heard his left wrist snap with a pleasant plop a moment before he felt the dull pain. I have had sprains hurt worse than his. He lifted his left arm to defend, his shield tilting at an unusual angle since he could no longer control it. I would take the pain of the sprain if i could control mu shield. He saw his opponents mace would make ot past his defenses easily. He compensated by twisting his body sideways. The mace impacted his shoulder, reverberating through his body and crushing his shoulder. Strange. I never expected to be bludgeoned to death. Remsfeld brought the bloodied short sword into position - he had started the battle with a long sword though who knows where it went. He knew where his helm had gone. The nose protector was currently crushed, digging deep into his nose with the resulting gash forming a fine river of blood. The New England Legion had appeared out of nowhere in the dew covered morning. According to the dwarves the Berkshire Road was free for trade. The New England Legion disagreed. Such were battles born from. Remsfeld was acting as a guardsmen for the shipment of ore - one of four guardsmen when the battle began. Now he stood alone, a pile of New Englanders at his feet. The New Englander smashed Remmy's right wrist, the shockwave traveling up and down his arm. Completely spent Remsfeld dropped his sword, fell to his knees, and awaited death. "You will get no ransom for me." Remmy spit out the words between his moments of spitting out blood. The New Englander - one of twenty or more still remaining - picked up Remmy's short sword. He was a dark man. A man as dark as midnight. Behind him the New Englander's were looting the bodies and reading the ore train to move once more.  "May you survive the night, dwarf." Remmy felt his orbital bone collapse under the chain mail fist before blissful unconsciousness overtook him.

I am blind in one eye. Remsfeld tried to remember. Found he could not and the darkness overtook him. I am blind in one eye. Remsfeld tried to remember. This time he could. I should be dead. With his remaining good eye he glanced about. Heavy worn drapes. An open window. Cool air. A stone ceiling. Definitely not a wood elf. Or fey. Most likely human. He closed his good eye, fatigue overtaking him once more. Remsfeld woke once more. He moved his toes slightly, not looking around this time, instead checking his body for permanent damage. He could move - slightly - though it hurt terribly. Several broken ribs, his face was numb, and his left shoulder was immobile. Tears trickled down his cheek from his good left eye - relief or anguish, he was not certain. He felt the breeze touch his neck. My beard should warm me there. He recalled a slash in the battle where a long sword had trimmed his beard and shaved his neck with the same swipe. He recalled the New Englanders shock when Remmy had slashed HIS throat in return.

The rumbling awoke Remmy again. It was dark. Were those stars? His body slide slid slighty as whatever he was layong on jarred and jerked. Pain shot though his ahoulder. Darkness. Night? Or was he just passing out again? He passed out again.

He was mercifully stationary this time.  His good-eye fluttered open once more, his vision obscured by dried crust floating along his eyeball. He squeezed the one eye tight, hoping to wash away the debris. I am not quite a cripple yet. He pursed his lips slightly - dry and cracked. If whoever has me wanted me dead I would be dead. Water, he said.

"Common? Has my Son gone that far?" The second to last thing he had expected to hear was dwarven; the last was his father's voice.

It was not a full surprise. Everyone was too far on edge to be surprised. Still, the beautiful woman began to melt before Qwyn's very eyes. The transportation with slow, though the tiefling could swear it was instantaneaous. The vines became ropes, ropes she used to hold herself high in the air, looking down at the party. The beautiful woman became a hag. Everyone has been told the child stories of the ugly woman who could defean with but a simple scream.

She opened her mouth to yell. Fully prepared, Voss loosed his knocked arrow at her (28 to hit), the blow sinking deeply into her leg (17 hit points). His second arrow went wide (15 to hit).

At the same time the bushes crashed loudly. Another Arborean. This one larger than all the others. Running up behind the party, swinging a scythe and definitely not pleased. Remsfelt readied himself to engage.

DM note:

• Map later but...Qwyn it at the fountain. Voss is in the back. Next to him is Alion. In front of them is Remmy. There is ten feet between Qwyn and the rest of you