-1Drin patted his horse's head as he watched the caravan pass. He knew they could not see him, or any of his companions. Twenty members of the Red Brigade were hidden in the copse of trees along side the road. The Brigade's leader, Red Brannock sat on his horse a few feet away watching as well. His fingers clenched around the stock of a crossbow, already cocked and ready to fire. Drin looked to his leader with admiration. For five years, he had been a member of the gang. Pickings were usually slim, a wagon here, a poor family there. Every once in a while, a big score came in. Like the one the Brigade was about to attack. The word was that a rich noble was transporting gold, and a lot of it. Being the haughty type, he forwent the security, thinking speed would get his gold where it needed to go. Drin chuckled. This was going to be easy, he thought.
Red Brannock raised his crossbow, aimed and fired. The lead wagon driver screamed out in shock and pain as the bolt stuck into his arm, pinning it to his chest. He fell to the ground. Immediately after the shot was fired, the other members burst from the trees, waving swords and yelling. The effect was immediate. The remaining drivers had no intentions of dying and lifted their hands in surrender. Drin frowned. He wanted to fight. He dismounted with the others and rounded up the drivers, binding them together on the ground. When he finished, he started to walk towards one of the covered wagons when he heard a sound. He snapped his fingers twice to get the attention of his companions and eased his sword from its sheath. Perhaps a young lady in need of attention, he mused with a smile. He raised a hand towards the wagon cover when he heard something different. It sounded like laughter. No. Giggling. Giggling? A quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his fellows were ready and he pulled the cover from the wagon.
"BOO!" A small armored figure wearing a wooden bucket for a helmet yelled out.
"Wha...?" Drin stammered, stepping back.
As he moved back, he took the cover with him, revealing not gold or jewels, but five individuals, armed and armored. The leapt out of the wagon and scattered, engaging the brigands. Drin could only gape as the little bucket-wearing figure ran towards him, wielding what appeared to be a large iron skillet. As the pan connected with his kneecap, he fell, conveniently lowering his head into the range of the little warrior. The last thing Drin heard was the clucking of a chicken.
"Git 'em!" One of the dwarves yelled out, as he threw an axe, splitting the head of a brigand open wide for all to see. Before his feet hit the ground, he had a mace readied. He charged at two humans. His mace swung across, smashing the soldier's shield to pieces. The weapon continued through, shattering the man's arm and sending him to the ground. The other soldier swung his hammer at the occupied dwarf, but it glanced off the shoulder. The red bearded dwarf looked to the hammer swinger and laughed.
"Eh? Gimme that. Lemme show ye how it be done."
He grabbed the hammer from the stunned man, reversed the grip and swung up, connected the face of the hammer with his chin. His head snapped back as he fell to the ground.
"That's how ye swing a hammer!" The red bearded dwarf said with a chuckle, as he looked to see the progress of his fellows.
Another dwarf, this one bald with a long braided blond beard and wearing breaches and a crossed baldric seemed to have things under control as well. He swung a massive maul, taking out a man's legs. He used the momentum of the weapon to bring it around and down, effectively ending the man's chances of ever breathing again. He grinned at the red bearded dwarf and turned to find more prey.
Yet another dwarf was busy at work. This one had black hair tied into multiple braids and a well kempt beard fought off a brigand with two hand axes. He seemed pressed, stepping back and barely blocking the sword strikes. Just as the man sensed victory at hand, the dwarf grinned, and dropped his axes as he dove forward underneath the errant swing of the sword. The two tumbled down a slight incline into a gully where they came to a sudden stop. The loud crack of the human's head striking a rock signified the end of the contest.
Red Brannock watched from his horse as his Red Brigade was systematically slaughtered by the dwarves. Furious, he kicked his horse into a run and charged. The small figure wearing the bucket helm waved at him.
"You die first!" He snarled at the dwarf.
He only heard giggles as he swung his sword at the dwarf, who ducked out of the way. Red reigned his horse around and charged again, this time running over the hapless figure. Red jumped from his horse and stood over the prone figure, which was still giggling. Infuriated, Red placed the tip of his sword at the neck of the giggling dwarf and yelled to the others.
"Let us go, or your friend dies!"
The red bearded dwarf laughed and looked back at the wagon.
"Kendrac?"
The fifth dwarf had remained in the wagon. With a stubby hand he brushed the mop of blond curls from his face and stood up.
"RUM! Burn time!" He hollered. He pointed his hands towards Red and the giggling dwarf and began to recite what seemed to be a recipe for cookies. Half way through, a ball of fire left his hands and hurtled towards Red, engulfing him and the prone dwarf in fire. Kendrac giggled and the other dwarves simply watched. Red screamed in pain and fell to the ground, rolling in an attempt to put out the fires. He failed. The other members of the Red Brigade dropped their weapons and ran. Partially because they had just witnessed their leader burned to death, and partly because the prone dwarf stood up and started towards them, giggling and on fire.
"Rom, let them go." The red bearded dwarf said.
"Hrm? No hugs?" the fiery dwarf pouted. He then sat down and waited for the fires to go out..
"Rum still burn! Dis ok, I'sa Klerk!" Kendrac babbled as he finished the cookie recipe, soaking Rom with a sudden deluge of water. He giggled, as did Rom.
The bald dwarf shouldered his massive hammer and walked towards the other two, shaking his head.
"I dinna ever believe it, till I seen it" Toren said with a smirk. "A flamin dwarf. Who'da thunk it?"
The black haired dwarf grinned. "Aye, Them two be odd. That be true. Armin, where'd ye find 'em?"
The red bearded dwarf shook his head as he reclaimed his throwing axe. "That be a story fer another day, Strom. Come, leave us ta get these fellows back on the road."