[Mkguild] Earning His Stripes: Chapter IV

[Mark Ewing]

The fourth and final chapter of Earning His Stripes. As always comments and
critiques are welcome.

Chapter IV

Over the next week we dodged random lutin patrols, though we soon found out
that some of these patrols were not really all that random.

We were hiding out in a small patch of thorn bushes when small group of
lutins passed our hiding spot. A lutin with wildly ornamental clothing
harshly growled. "They be in this area."

Another lutin looked at the first lutins and asked, "Who they?"

"They Longs who killed Nasoj favourite general. Nasoj want their head on
platter."

"Why we hunt Longs. They KILL lutins who hunt them. They hunt us normally."

"You no need to ask why we hunt Longs. You only need to listen and obey me,
or you want me to stick sword in you and see how far your entrails extend."

The second lutin shook his head and stepped away from the lutin with the
fancy clothing.

With much care I silently signed to Misha. "This sounds like trouble."

Misha nodded slowly and carefully. "I've seen this on more then one
occasion, but right now is not the time to discuss it."

"I agree sir. The less we say now the safer we will be."

Both of us stayed quiet and proceeded to wait until our lutin friends got
tired of searching the area.

The next week and a half was pretty similar in pattern since we were either
dodging lutins, ambushing small groups of them out of sight of their
comrades, or heading south towards home.

We were roughly a day away from the Keep, or five hours outside of the Glen
when we heard shouting ahead of us, and then a peirciningly loud scream that
drove into my tired head like a spike of steel fresh from the forge.

"Misha that sounds like we got lutins ahead."

"Yeah and it also sounds like there are some normal people up there as
well."

"I guess that we should go do the noble thing and save those people from the
lutins."

"You guessed right Oberon."
I drew the claw from its scabbard and asked, "You want to lead?"

"I would be glad to Oberon." He replied before he pulled out Whisper and
charged into the bushes in front of us with a yowling war-cry.

I followed close behind him with my own roaring cry echoing off of nearby
hills."

The lutins were taken...completely by surprise as they had been focused on
the enemy in front of them and had ignored the possiblity of an enemy
appearing behind them.

It was short bloody work to dispatch most of the lutins. A few of the lutins
took one look at us and fled, as fast as their stinking green feet could
carry them. I didn't even think as I drew my bown pulled out an arrow and
nocked it before I smoothly fired at the fleeing lutins.

"Nice shot Oberon."

"Thanks Misha." I replied as I watched my arrow arch into the air before
plunging down on the fleeing figures pinning them to a tree like a bug on a
needle. "That was a nice fight."

"Now Oberon why don't we go and help those people out?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

With that said we both stepped out of the concealing trees into which the
other people were still located hiding behind various small carts and hand
drawn wagons.

After a moment a young man stepped out from behind one of the carts, with a
drawn bow in his hands. "You come one step closer to me demons of Metamor
and I will place this arrow right between your eyes."

>From the way that the weapon was trembling in his grip I knew that he real=
ly
wouldn't be able to do as he said, but I could also see that he did fully
intend on shooting us if we got any closer to him.

I slowly pushed back my hood to reveal my face the young man, I guessed that
he wan't much older then fourteen or fifteen.

He flinched slightly at the appearance of my face and his eyes narrowed.

Misha what are we going to do about his situation here?

"Well," He temporized for a moment. "We can't really kill him, because after
all he is only a boy, but he looks bound and determined to put that arrow
through one of us at the end of the day."

The boy looked from Misha to me and then back before, in a warbling cracking
voice he said, "You demons will no come any closer to me...or my people!"

"Demon?" Misha said softly. "We're not demons, no matter what you think. Do
you honestly think that you can stop both of us with just that bow boy?"

He looked at the two of us and then glanced back behind him before he
finally replied, "I can shoot at least one of you before you have a chance
to reach me. And, yes you are demons according the honourable priests of
Ba'al."

"Boy your are the one who's been misguided here. The priests of Ba'al are
the ones who have been consorting with demons. We simply are normal people
who've been changed into animals by powerful magic."

The boy shook his head fiercly. "That kind of magic cursed by the Lord Ba'al
himself."

He was gathering himself up to say something when a small voice called out.
"Where are you Sal? I can't..." The voice, I guessed it belonged to a young
human female in the first decade of her life faded out and was followed by a
series of small, wet, hacking coughs.

The boy turned at the sound and dropped his bow and ran for the edge of the
clearning.

Misha ran after the boy calling out. "I can help you boy, and her as well."

I didn't follow, instead I wandered around the edge of the clearing,
collecting the thumbs of my kills and checking up on the other people who
were part of the little group that the pathetic group of refugees. By one of
the carts I found a stretcher with the figure of a grown man laid out on it.

I did a quick inspection of the man and found a large angry looking bruise
on his forehead. From the appearance of the wound I could tell that it was
far beyond my limited skills. I was trained to kill people, not put them
back together. "Misha I found another casualty over here. He has a large
bruise on his forehead. I suspect that he was hit with a sling stone."

A short time later Misha appeared at me side, with the boy who had been
aiming an arrow at us only a short time before, in tow.

"Misha this is way beyond my own megre medical abilities. I was never really
trained to put people back together, instead my training leaning in the
other direction...taking them appart."

Misha wiggled his ear at me as he leaned down and examined the head of the
man on the stretcher. "This is a bad one. It looks like whatever hit him did
so with a lot of force behind it."

I slowly nodded and watched as he wound a bandage, soaked with healing
salve, around the man's head. "We've got to get these people to a
healer...fast."

The boy nodded slowly and laid a hand on the injured man's arm and said,
"It'll be okay Damion, we have some help now." Once he said that he stood up
again the then went out to one of the other carts and raised his boyish
voice. "Kom Her Alle!"

I turned to Misha and asked, "You know that language?"

"Nope, but I do know that it is the language of those who live in the
Northwestern Giantdowns. They are a tough people who've served as Nasoj's
elites for decades."

As Misha told me that information the refugees in the little convoy came out
into the clearing and the boy explained to them, in his own language, what
Misha had told him earlier about our home.

An older man stepped forward and roughly shouted, "Ich werde zu diesem
verfluchten Platz nicht gehen und eine Tiermissbildung werden."

For the next three minutes I listened, with only mild interest, as Misha and
the boy tried to get the group of refugees to leave this place and head for
the Glen. Finally they came to an agreement and we quickly herded the people
into a rough collum before we all hit the road towards Glen Avery...again.

The sky was getting dark by the time we came to a worn wall in the middle of
a forest clearing. I grinned as the boy asked Misha a question and my
commander's response. Right now the only thing I really had any desire for
was a soft warm bed, where I could sleep without any fear of being woken up
in the middle of the night.

A short time later my desire was fulfilled, though first we both had to
brief both Angus and Sir Salius on the current situation. Misha also had to
get the two badly wounded refugees to the local healer for care. Once all of
that was done I headed for one of the rooms in the in with a smile on my
face. I could at last give into an the fatigue that was dragging at my bones
like a stone from the very foundations of Metamor Keep itself and get some
sleep.

--
Mark Ewing
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