New in Town

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Wynna
Dungeon Master
Posts: 5734
Joined: Sat Jan 03, 2004 10:09 am
Location: Seattle, WA (PST)

New in Town

Post by Wynna »

Slipped under the door of the Daily Trumpet in a neat envelope, marked for the attention of the Fiction Editor.

Yvette Corsair rolled into town pushing the sled full of furs. She’d carried the last dog overland from Triboar, until the rippling water muscles of the Dessarin tumbled her beside a Kryptgarden campfire. It died anyway, so she ate it. The dog.

Now as she mushed toward the city out of the wood, the guards blew their trumpets and hauled on the chains that opened the massive gates. Nobody asked any questions. She felt their eyes on her, though, like always. They always looked. What wasn’t to look at?

She stood a statuesque 20 sandwiches high, in the local measure. Her leather armor buckled in all the right places to show the chainmail undergarments. The naked sword between her shoulders looked like it was made of water borrowed from the Dessarin, waiting to pour liquid death into the heart of any foe that threatened her or hers. Quiver and bow straps crossing over her front both lifted and supported, and the bow was a huge double recurve which delivered more power and used energy more efficiently than the equivalent straight bow. It took 30...40...maybe 50 pounds of force to draw. Once, she'd had to draw it with her feet, when her hands were busy with a pair of Uthgardt boys who'd mistaken her challenge about swords as meaning their metal ones. Her quiver was stuffed with obviously magical arrows, too. Fire arrows. Ice arrows. Lightning arrows. Bomb arrows. All the arrows.

First thing into town was to sell the furs. Second thing into town was to spend the gold. She’d heard of a place, called the Hung Lantern, that sounded right up her alley.

Crunching through the icy streets, she passed a place that made her mouth smile in remembered memories of childhood. The sounds weapons made drifted out of an open window. Clashing and slamming sounds. The sign called it
The Snookery. Obviously a training ground for warriors. Maybe she’d offer her services as a trainer after the gold from the furs was all poured out into some handsome courtesan’s belt pouch.

There were two students swinging through its doors now, one of them a massive fella with a red beard and enough weight on him to feed a family of hungry orc for a few generations. It was the younger one that caught her eye, though. Kind of a runt. Weedy. Wide eyed and eager, in a just-unwrapped-my-first-sword-for-Harvestide way. Cute. She remembered when she was that way. Untried. Untested. Soft and weak.

Not any more.

The ingenue caught her looking and hurried his pace, getting inside to safety. She might have to do something about that one someday. Make him a man.

She grinned at the big one, who took a step back and felt for his sword, then followed the kid out of sight. Smart fella.

She debated going in and scaring the kid some more, then moved on. Better for him. She wouldn’t want to hurt him, with the endless demons inside her.
Enjoy the game
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