Chapter 6. A visit.
Despite seeming in a plain mood, Hans was worried what would be needed to support someone of her…type. "Wonder how much she needs to eat." Do they make nests, or live in abandoned settlements? Was the barn the right spot for her, or the fungal cave even? Would he get folded in half for asking her? With a deep breath, his thoughts try to organize, figuring out what he should even do going forward. With a shake of the shoulders to straighten himself up, he makes his way back to the now guest room, thinking of what to do with someone else under his roof for the first time.
After a few gentle knocks, nothing is heard back from the bedroom. "You alright in there? Wanted to give you the tour soon." Nothing. He opens the door cautiously, trying not to peek too much. Once open though, he sees her resting on the bed in a splayed out pose, looking like she was knocked out cold. Closer examination showed her eyes shut tight, and her breathing was calm. He pokes the furred face a couple of times, but quickly stops as he remembers the fate of his previous tool handle. Her head jerks slightly as she let out a noise similar to a sneeze, before continuing her snooze. As she now slept soundly, Hans creeps out of the room as to let her rest, sealing the door silently as he left.
With nothing to do but wait, he makes his way downstairs to enjoy the sight of the burning hearth, sitting lazily as he killed time. Looking up at his walls once again, he takes mental notes that he may have to take up arms eventually. If she could make it here accidentally, who knows what else could make its way here intentionally, including her herd that may want a snarled word or two with her. He reaches up for the sword and shield of Middenland, the weight of the weapons not being as burdensome as he remembers. He swings the sword loosely, holding the shield up after at the imaginary foe.
"Can't be too hard." With a dramatic turn and swing down, the sword slips from his grip, the blade landing in the hearths hot embrace. "Dammit!" He quickly reaches for the handle not consumed by fire, his skin tensing at the heat near it as he pulls the now hot blade out, ashes and embers coming out with it in a messy wave. Letting the blade cool, and his lungs empty themselves of the fireplace's mess, he puts the gear back with shame as he realizes he would be awful in an actual confrontation.
With nothing better to do, he takes one more trip upstairs to see if she's still asleep. Looking in, she is still sleeping soundly, now with the blanket held close to her. As Hans begins waiting again, he has a realization. What does he normally do when he doesn't have someone here? While lazing around was normal for him, it felt less satisfying now that he knew that he had someone near him. Knowing the potential to have something to do, put a layer of angst over his usual relaxation time. What to do now?
After some intense chin scratching, and perked ears listening for her awakening, he decides a trip to town could be fun. It's rare he goes there more than once a week, but he could use an extra distraction, and maybe ask some people some more… specific questions to aid his new lifestyle. Some extra nails and repair kit pieces would be nice too, after the several different "accidents" in his yard. Scrawling a quick note dowsn about his absence, leaving it nailed to the front door to let her know where he went. He takes a single steed this time, not needing the whole carriage for a simple trip to town. With a pull of the reins, he is on his way.
As he entered the town, all was fairly normal for late in the day for this place. Handfuls of folks going about their business, carrying various goods to and from the stalls to home. The sound of hammers on wood somewhere near, reminding him that they probably had almost as many troubles as he did from the storm. Almost as many. He got a few surprised looks from those who noticed the unusual arrival, one man approaching from the side to investigate this visit. "Evenin Han, what has you in our neck of the woods so soon? Did the storm take your house with it?"
The older man had a casual smile as he ran his hands through the horse's slightly matted mane. "Almost, but not quite. Just need a few things to get my barn fixed, maybe a drink too while I'm in town." "Ay, sounds good. You take care out there." "Same to you." The older gentlemen left him be, leaving Hans to go on with his trip. His first stop was the potion shop, but he noticed a strange lack of Gunter at the front. A small wooden counter plaque read, "On lunch" A little late for that he thought, before swinging around the back to talk to the actual person he came here to see.
As the back door opens to the basement, he can see no strange gases exiting this time. "OI, you down there?" An unusual silence filled in for the loud reply he should have heard from the green ball of rowdiness. As he walks the steps slowly, cautious of the now darkening chamber, nothing seems to be down here. The cauldron fire had simmered down, leaving the room darker than usual. "INTROODA!" Hans is entire vision is made burlap brown as a bag is put over his head and a weight is on his shoulders trying to steer him around, sharp nails latching onto the temples of his head. In a panicked reaction, his arms reach back trying to pry the assumed Grot off him, struggling to say anything as the burlap is tight around his neck.
"GR- GH, HA-HAN-"His hands manage to grab the weight on his shoulders and through him overhead, followed by a loud crash of the small mean green being hurled into his own storage. As Hans urgently fiddles with the bag enough to breath, a weight crashes into his legs, knocking him over. Causing a fall so hard he nearly bounced up off the stone. As he hears small steps rushing towards him, he finally manages to speak clearly through the now loosened bag.
"ITS HANS! ITS ME HANS YOU BLEEDING ASS!" As the sack comes off, he can see the scrunched thinking expression of grot with a dense stick in hand, and the snarling Chewa who must have been what knocked him down. "What ya doin here git? Yous supposed to be gone a few more dayz!" As the coughing fit from the bag passes, the urge to strangle the goblin shot up as grot didn't even acknowledge the near murder he attempted. "I was just making an early visit! Is that really means to try and kill me?!"
Putting his whacking stick off to the side, Grot continues his interrupted work routine like normal, lighting his cauldron fire back to a blaze. "Youz need to say oos comin down here, otha wise we assume youz here to krump us." Letting his anger simmer back down, Hans pulls a seat up to the little brew station by the fire, intent on trying to settle this and ask what he came here for originally. "You shouldn't try to KILL anyone who comes down here you know? That's how you get caught." "Sez you, aint the first to stumble down ere." "What?" "Last one to waltz down ere got stabbed, roight thru the skull!"
The stabbing motion he did with the fungus currently in his hand unnerved him slightly. That can't be true, can it? While goblins like him tended to be nuts, he could see him telling a lie to try and make up for past actions of cowardice. Trying to seem more dangerous than he was, as was the tactic for someone of his size and "cunning" nature. Gunter would be the only one with a clear answer for this, so time to move on to the real meat of the discussion he came here for. "Yeah sure, you're the biggest threat around these parts." His tone was exaggerated as he gave the false praise. "You betcha!"
Which was completely lost on Grot as he took it genuinely to heart, now grinning madly as he mixed his brews. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you about a few things." "Bout all the scraps I been in?" "Well… kind of." "Roight, so my first battle was real lon-"He's cut short by Hans, who realizes that he would need to be specific and careful with wording here. "I was wondering if you could tell me about any battles you might have faced against the beastmen." He stops his wartime ramblings to think.
"Beast whats it?" "You know, the ones that look like goats and cows and such. I heard they were in the badlands as well." "Ohhhh, those pointy beasts. Why you need to hear bout them?" "Oh well, it's just that…" He actually had to think of a reason, not expecting Grot to question him asking about anything at all really. "I've heard rumors that they're being spotted in the area. Wanted to know what to look out for from someone who might have dealt with them. Maybe some tips on how to fight as well, if you know anything about that of course."
The little snot colored gobbo's face lights up at the chance to teach someone the best krumping tactics. "Youv come to the roight place! Rule one to beast stompin!" The brewer throws in a thick red powder into the stirring cauldron, causing to cast a demonic red light on them as he continued. "Deys sneaky alroight, almost as sneaky as a night goblin. Almost." Hans is taking mental notes, although sneaky isn't much to go off of yet. "They use da hills and trees to sneak up, sworm from every way with theys cloppin feet!" "What was the rule exactly?" "I'm gettin to it! Rool one is to keep ya eyes open, they can be over you before you knows it. If yous spot em, and you can tell theys weak, sneak up on em. Then STAB!" He slams the stirring rod into the liquid, splashing the heated brew violently as he continues.
"So out sneak them?" "Yea!" That wouldn't help much, considering he doesn't have half the senses the beasts had. "Rool two is to-"He quickly hands Hans a handful of red fungus and gestures to his feet. Seeing the shaking Chewa wanting to be picked up and coddled, he obliges happily as he drops the fungus into the cavernous maw. Quickly scratching the sweet spot between the spikes to settle him down in his lap. "Roight, now that you got him, rool 2! They iz like orkz, in that the small gits get sent first." "Small ones?" Hans had never seen a "small beastman" only Nathiqe who was the furthest from small. "Yea, they send in the short gits with nubs on they head. Even the gobbos can kill em! Then they sends the ones that are bout yourz height, wit normal horns."
"Maybe it's the horn size that gives them their rank." He would normally move on after his own poor joke, but Grot contemplates it all too seriously. "I fink youz roight, howd I not sees it!" "I was k-"Grot is already writing it down on a note pad, possibly pulled from his ass since Hans never saw it before now. He goes back to teaching as he writes down these "important" discoveries.
"Roight, rool two, if youz killed the weak gits, the stronga ones show up. Bigga da horns, tougher tha git!" "What would you say is the rank of one with horns about say…" He grabs a roughly foot long stirring rod from a nearby table, while trying to balance the lap bound Chewa. "This big? About this much taller as well." "That wold be theirs warboss. Tha one leadin em, plannin ambushes, does the most killin if theyz strong." So, her story of trying to become a leader makes some sense, considering her size would qualify her. "Thas bout all I got for beasties, anything else I tells ya goes for any fight relly. Keep ya eyes skinned and ya nose open for em." "I'll get right on that." "Any way, back to me first real krumpin, back at the eight peaks- "
As Grot continued his tale of exaggerated glory and violence, Hans pondered on the information he had heard. How it might be applicable to his situation is not clear yet, but he has something now as opposed to nothing. He let Grot self-narrate his past feats for about an hour, before politely removing himself to finish this trip. "Youz leavin already? I'm just gettin to the good part!" "You always are, aren't you?" "It's troo, the next parts always the best!" "I'm sure it is." Heading up the stairs with a pouting goblin squig combo staring at him, he sighs again once exited. As he makes his way around the building, a behind the counter Gunter enters his view, looking confused at his arrival from the back of the building.
"Were you just down there?" "Yeah why?" Gunter looked mildly surprised before squinting. "Hope he wasn't too rough back there. He didn't go for the kill, did he?" The departing young man stopped in his tracks to look back in slight concern. "He tied a bag around my head, and when I got it off he was rushing at me." After a few seconds of thought, he shouted. "Did he actually kill someone down there?!" The man behind the counter gestured wildly for him to come closer, while simultaneously telling him to shut his every loving trap.
"Don't go shouting things that'll bring attention over here, understand?" "Don't tell me you seriously let him kill someone!" Gunter's fingers find Han's lips in an instant, silencing the man swiftly. "Look, he didn't kill anyone." The young man's eyebrow nearly raised off his head in suspicion. "Has not killed anyone to my knowledge. He did handle a break in a little violently once but that's all! Said he would kill the next one if they weren't careful." Pushing the silencing fingers away from himself, he backs away before getting grabbed again by the shop keep. "Why is he attacking people down there?"
"Why are people entering my basement when I'm not here, huh? You don't just let yourself in, how'd you feel if you showed up to me in your home unannounced? Look, you're mostly unharmed, and I'm sorry this happened. But if I'm not here, DON'T go down there. Greenskins aren't known for rational thinking, and he thought it was another break in since I was gone, alright?"
As much as he wanted to argue it further, his frustrated sigh finally left his mouth as he realized he probably won't get through to him on this tonight, even agreeing with Gunter's point to a degree. Quickly, a small pouch of coin hit's the counter, and an expecting look from Gunter. "For your troubles, consider it extra for the next shipment, and as an apology. Don't want you blabbing to the guards over this incident now do we?" The self-debate he had lasted long enough to leave Gunter furrow browed before he reaches down to accept the "gift".
"Look, you're a reliable supplier, and you're the only reason that snot beast doesn't bug me more with his stupid fables. Try not to stay mad at him, alright? It's bad for our business." The Lighthearted grin Gunter gave while jesting didn't fully make up for this, but it was a start. "Who was the last guy to break in anyway?" He asks as he pockets the bribe. "You remember Yuri?" "The Kislevite?" "The very same. Bastard broke the door down looking for something to drink and got strangled by that little green freak. By the time I got down there, the squig already ate his shoes." "Gross, wouldn't want him anywhere near my feet with hungry intent." "Agreed. Had to dump old Yuri on the other side of town, lightly soaked in some fresh rum reserve. Guards were convinced he was drunk when he said a goblin stole his shoes."
While it was an unfortunate event for the man, Hans thought it was a funny thought of the guards having to deal with a goblin shoe thief. "Anyway, what are you doing back so early? I was more surprised to even see you then to spot you emerging form the back." "Just need some supplies for the barn, storm damage and whatnot. You'll probably see me around more since I've got a clearer schedule now."
That was a lie, he had always had time to come out here, he just didn't. But with Nathiqe around, he would definitely need more supplies to help keep the house going with a mouth that large to feed and mend. "Finally reentering society, ay? Well, just make sure you stop by more to keep Grot busy. The more he sees you. the less I see him." "Might not want to see him for a couple days, if I'm being honest. Might dunk his head in the cauldron if he tries that again." "Wouldn't be the first time he's dipped in there. You take it easy Hans and remember." He shushes his own mouth in a gesture, smiling once he sees Hans doing the same to show he understands to keep this accident a secret. "Careful out there, don't want you getting jumped by any monsters hiding in the dark!" His comment ended with a thud as he closes the shutter on his shop for the day, leaving Hans to finish his trip through the closing town.
She could hear the heartbeat in her ears again, a pain across her midsection as she ran through the vaguely familiar landscape, the sounds of bestial chanting behind her. As she looked behind, she saw in horror the sights of shadowed silhouettes, surrounded in hellish orange light as they creeped towards her. All of them having familiar shapes of the beasts from the herd, various horn and spike patterns triggering her memories. Attempts to run faster feel useless as she can only keep herself so far away from the creeping end that closes in any major gaps, always staying just within her peripheral.
As her legs reach the verge of giving out, she sees it, the barn! Without thinking further, she forces the last bit of strength from her cloven feet, the burning in her torso only growing deeper as the wounds feels like it's expanding. The doors are open, she has a chance! Leaping inside, she shuts the doors behind her, and like a natural instinct, limped to her previous stall. With a hard slam down, she tries to breath deep, but the air hardly goes through, leaving her in a constant state of near choking. A loud crash of the barn doors echoes in her ears as she tries to prop up against the wall, scooting as far back as possible from the red lit shadows dancing around the barns ceiling. The booming footsteps of someone entering the barn sounded like heavy crashes in her adrenaline filled state as a blurred figure turned the corner.
Standing over her in the same position as before was the owner of this property, but he had no face to be seen. An unnatural darkness obscured the features, his arms raising the dreaded rifle up to her like before. "H-han-"Her plea is cut short as a bright and smokey blast rings from the barrel, the sound thundering her ears as she sees the hole in her body leaking, an incredibly strange feeling of a puncture, but no real pain. Before she can move any further, the barrel raises its sights to her head, blasting out another shot.
This time, her eyes reopen, her throat letting out a near feral scream of fear and grief to ring through the whole house. As her strained throat cuts her shouting short, her other senses start to seep back in, her eyes noticing the bed, and the surroundings being an actual room. Her heaving breathing and racing heart don't slow down much as she realizes it was a dream, a horrible, horrible dream. She removes the cover off her, checking the wounds, only to see her past scars and nothing new. She looks to the door, expecting to see Hans run in and see what the noise was, but she Is left waiting as no one shows.
A quick bolt up leaves her off balanced as she quickly makes her way to the door to see if somethings wrong, her dash not cooperating with her sleeping legs. As she exits the room *BANG* Her dreary eyes forgot about the door height and force her horns against the frame, a slight bounce back and a light dent in the frame waking her up partially. A rub to her shaken head, and a crouch through the mentioned frame, her investigation continues. As she walks down the hall, a distinct lack of sound and scent of Hans pulls her attention, signs of the man all but gone from here. She opens the door to his room, scanning the smaller quarters thoroughly for any sign, but nothing to be seen.
Her sight lingers on a certain wall bound trinket before she leaves, a massive great sword with reikspiel on the blade, but she couldn't read it from here. She closes the door before practically leaping down the stairwell, quickly seeing no one on the base level of the building. She does however, spot a note on the door. She plucks it from the entrance to get a clear reading of it. "I'll be back later in the evening, needed some supplies for repairing the property." She couldn't imagine this being anyone else's note, which relieved her to know he was not missing, only out at some nearby settlement.
Turning around, she sees that she has the home to herself, kinda unsure what to make of it. He would probably be fine if she did a little rooting around, right? Slouching her shoulders, she settles on just getting a better look around, giving herself a tour of the place instead of waiting for Hans to do it. Quickly she throws the note into the fire before starting, no one will be needing that anymore. Her first real stop is the kitchen, intent on trying a few of those hanging plants she didn't get a chance to snack on earlier. Up on display were Various green plants of different texture and shapes. Some drooping down lower while some had softer looking extensions.
With a quick snip off the ends of each, she samples the handful of shredded plants in her palm, trying to chew the foliage with difficulty. The mixed taste of the random plants wasn't a pleasant one, and the words from earlier of these needing to be mixed come to mind. As she chews the unpleasant mix in her mouth, she begins looking through the several different drawers and cabinets. The cookware and utensils in them were new to her, the only one sticking out being the rather large butcher knife. The last one she opens has several dried foods inside, but more importantly, colored jars full of something she couldn't make heads or tails of.
She pulled the purple jar out of the cupboard, prying open the top with a satisfying pop of the lid. The sweet smell instantly gets her attention, as she gives the purple paste an experimental lick. With a few moments to process, her tongue launches back into the jar quickly, craving more of the sweet paste. Her eyes are closed blissfully as she savors the sweet jam, making her way over to the fireplace to take a seat. Sitting with her legs crossed, she takes in the warmth of the fire as she reaches for a log off of the pile to the side, tossing it in easily with one hand.
A mess of ash and burnt tinder splash out, almost reaching her seated spot, not caring the wave of soot. As she licks up the jam from its jar, she examines the walls of the home, feeling interest in many of the collected trophies mounted on the walls. She recognizes a few of the mounted shields, remembering the few times she had seen those markings in other regions of man. The sun crested shield in particular brings back some memories of ambushes in the past, times when she would descend upon the brightly colored soldiers with violent intent. She sees the various mounted creature heads on the wall, reminding her of her own trophies she had in her tent. The memory stinging as she remembers that they are all probably gone by now, snagged and pilfered by beasts of the camp.
As she lets her thoughts take over, her tongue starts to feel the cool glass of the jar as the jam runs low. "He must be a decent warrior if he has all of this." The idea that he must have collected treasures from slain foes stays on her mind, the idea that he has killed for all of these gives her the impression that he is a better warrior than he is letting on. Or maybe it's another culture difference and he didn't kill all the previous owners for his interior décor.
Either way, she holds a much greater interest in the mans past now. She lays on her side, hand against her head as she lays by the fire for now, waiting for Hans to get back for questioning and proper touring. She takes an extra moment to mourn the loss of her sweet purple paste as her tongue sweeps the rest of it out of the jar, leaving her with a faint sense longing for her now empty treat.
The town was mostly calm, with the exception of a few street bound groups having different discussions under lantern lights of the buildings, most not taking much notice to Hans making his way to the tavern. As he walks the shaded lane of the town's dirt road, his attention is instantly snagged to the band of armed forces coming down the opposite way. Hans stands off to the side of them near another waiting individual trying to stay out of the way. The small army's worth of men has a rather large knight at the front, mounted atop a great armored steed.
He bears the wolf crest on his armor as he keeps forward on this march, his gear clunking obnoxiously as he moves. Behind him was a few groups of halberds wearing the state colors of Middenland, mostly blue with less grandiose wolf emblems on their gear compared to the head of the march. Behind them were various squads of hand gunners and crossbowmen in loose formation, not ready for a fight this very moment. Last in line was a surprise to see out here, but they even had a few mortars to go with this detachment of troops, the wide metal black tubes looking like rolling voids on wheels in the already dimly lit streets. Various groans and complaints of not getting a stop to drink or eat is shared amongst the band of troops, all being expertly ignored by the helmeted leader at the front.
"Five gold says they never come back." He turns to the short haired man waiting at his side, a smug look on his face as he watches the soldiers start disappearing into the dark forest trail ahead. "I don't feel like throwing my coin away by betting against that." The proposer chuckles lightly, his grin now splitting. "Aint that the truth." Hans didn't find it as funny, considering how seldom it was for them to return. Usually, only hand fulls of scarred survivors make it back, rarely anywhere near a full regiment would return this way from the woods tainted further in. Both sides would throw their able bodies at each other, both would suffer heavy loss and retreat, and both would eventually do it again. That was how it always was as the troop detachments became more frequent over the years. More wear and tear on the on the fewer and fewer soldiers returning each time, painting a grim picture of what the future had in store for this place if they stopped heading out that way.
As the end on the band of troops is out of sight through the tree line, his stride continues as he is nearing the tavern. As he opens the worn wooden doors, he is abruptly pushed back as he bounces off another individual exiting at the same time. Hitting the ground with a THUD and a kicked-up cloud of dirt, he looks up at the tower of a man shining through the dust. An armored arm reaches down, offering him a way back up as he grabs it, coughing briefly from the series of events. He is hoisted up immediately and is face to face with a mustached man of the wolf.
"Sorry bout that, didn't see you coming in." His face was blank, but his tone had traces of concern and sympathy in it as he dusted Hans is arms and shoulders. "It's fine, didn't dirty your gear, did I?" "Nah, it's been better off after worse." The armored man standing over him was the empire captain Valmire Glatz, a rather reserved man for his tall stature. His dirtied steel plates had several spread-out dents as little badges of past conflict across the lands. His hair was a clean brown, with small grey patches forming from years of conflict and stress as a soldier. "Were you planning on joining those merry men that way?" His arm gesturing the path the soldiers took.
"Aw shoot, did they pass through already? Wanted to give the general some advice before he gets too deep into it." "Advice on what exactly?" "Oh, just some things about fighting the beasts that way, basic things they don't feel like telling us about BEFORE we go neck deep into chaos." Despite the man's light grin, his brow furrowed in a frustrated manner. But he mentioned beasts and apparently how to deal with them, something that might help Hans is predicament.
"What is it you would need to tell him?" "Like I said, not much, just the various things to be wary of, nothing you need to be concerned with." "I'd still like to hear it, might help out one day if they ever make it over this way." "Are yo-"His eyes focus behind Hans for a second, before grabbing him and moving their conversation away from the building entrance to allow a couple to get inside. Out of the way and with apologies to the couple, he picks back up.
"Are you implying that the armies of Middenland won't do their job and protect these lands?" A smug smile on his face as he crosses him arms, waiting for a snide remark. "Of course not, mighty captain. But you never know when a foolish neighboring elector state draws our oh so mighty front line elsewhere. Leaving us bumbling village folk to fend for ourselves." He finishes with a dramatic bow to the captain. "Well, how was that?" "I think the politicians will invite you to speak any day now with a performance like that."
A subdued chuckle escapes Valmire's lips as they laugh. "Anyway, if you need to know, it was just basics you learn in these woods. Double the patrols around the camps when you settle in for a night, keep a VERY, very close eye on the trees as you go through. Extra scouts are a must if you want to make it past most tree lines." "Hmm, anything else?" "Ehh, if you don't have pets, a beartrap or two wouldn't hurt. Gives you a heads up when you hear one of those bumbling goats stumble on it." "I'm guessing, they don't teach this stuff?"
"They hardly tell us where to go as it is, have to learn who you're fighting on the fly. That block head that passed through here has been fighting green skins his whole career, the idea of getting ambushed would be pretty foreign with how headfirst he normally hast to act." "What have you fought?" "Mostly beastmen, a few mercenary bands here and there." He strokes his mustache, a strained look on his face. "And a rouge vampire army on one occasion." Huh, a larger work history than Hans imagined, he sorta just guessed he got the job for being large and having a nice sword.
His attention snaps back to Valmire, his head now getting encased in his helmet, one of similar perforated fashion as the passing general. "I gotta get back to patrolling Hans, you take care. And remember." He places an armored hand on the younger man's shoulder. "If you have any suspicions of beastmen out there, I wouldn't mind taking a look for you. This town is tedious, and I could use something to lighten my day." He could hear the grin under the visor. "Will do. I gotta go as well, I need to grab a drink with the dwarf." "I'm sure he will be DELIGHTED to see you." A near lethal amount of sarcasm in the captain's voice leaves Hans confused, a little worried even.
With waves goodbye, he heads into the bright tavern, seeing it a little more full than last time with townsfolk settling in after a long day's work, most covered in splintered debris and mud. His eyes scan and lock with the eyes of Kothek. Bracing for the thunderous greeting, he is made nervous when none is heard as usual. Instead, the dwarf's eyes were forward and stern, showing no hint of joy or friendship in them. Only a hand gesture for Hans to come to the table. He wanders slowly over, dreaded each step as the dwarf's eyes remain unchanging. He takes his seat at the round table with the dwarf, grabbing the already poured mug of ale to his lips for a sip. "Heya Kothek, how's the week treated you so far?" Nothing, only eyes of stone peering through him like a drill.
Suddenly a book is pulled from his armor, pages being flipped through with lethal precision as his finger plants itself on the page mid flip. "Hans, of family Bauman, age 21. You have been formally noted into the Dammaz Kron, or "book of grudges" as your kin call it." Uh oh, what did he do last time that he cant remember? "For insulting the dwarf known as Kothek shield bearer, insinuating that his height may inhibit him from assisting his kin." Sooo, I called you short?" "Yes, you did. Which is a grave error in judgment to think I would forget. Only thing worse is if you insulted my beard!" This whole tone was getting to Hans, he had never seen Kothek like this, it was unsettling to see the cheery dwarf in such a grim mood like his kind are known for.
"And for that, you must pay for the grudge against you to earn forgiveness." "W-what would that be?" His tension and growing fear making his voice shake as he prepares for a possible axe swing to his head. Kothek holds for at least a minute, his face shifting several times as if he is trying to decide the worst fate possible for Hans. The dwarf suddenly reaches under the table, planting the small keg of ale on the table. "You must drink with me till the keg remains AT LEAST half full." "…what?" Suddenly, a grin breaks wide across his bearded face, the bellowing laughter from the past returning as he slaps his knee like it's the most annoying bug ever.
"Had you goin there for a minute, didn't I? You really thought i- HEH HAAA!" His hearts un sinks itself back to its original place, his sigh of relief, while loud, was still drowned out by the dwarfs laugh. The thunderous laughter bringing more attention to the table than he'd like. "However, I still want an apology." "Right, right. Ahem." Another theatrical act in the making as he preps himself. "Oh, mighty shield bearer, can you find it in your bulwarked heart to forgive a foolish human mortal as myself for my transgressions against the great bearded ones?"
His tone sounding pathetic and weak as he "begs" for forgiveness. A mutual swig is had as Kothek scratches his beard in thought. "Aye, consider it considered." "Well, how's about we celebrate to mark this oh so grand occasion?" "Aye, I can drink to that!" Their mugs clash in a toast, before quickly downing the cool liquid. An eased expression is held at the table as they nearly finish their mugs already, before Kothek decides to start prodding. "What brings you back to town so soon anyway? I thought you forest folk hibernated for the week before coming back out here to scavenge." "The storm nearly blew my barn down, could use some of that "Dwarfen engineering "to fix it up." "Ay, gimme a time and I'll whip it into a stronghold for your beasties."
His eyes bugged out slightly, did he mean…? "Your livestock, Hans. What did ya think I meant?" "Just ah, didn't want you saying that too loud is all. If Jurgen heard you saying anything beast related to me, I'd never hear the end of it." "He seems a lot more subdued lately, is that part of it?" The young mans hands find the back of his own neck, scratching anxiously as he went forward with this. "Yeah, he figured out it was me who set up the eggs, now he's trying to find any reason to persecute me. Guess he really can keep his mouth shut if he's putting his efforts elsewhere."
"Sounds like a rough time having a member of the church singling you out like that. If you want I could have a word with him." The Dwarfs nondrinking hand curls into a fist before loudly "resting" itself on the table, taking a swig with the other hand. "Nah, I can handle the bald-headed pest buzzing about." He looks to Kothek for some affirmation, any sign to show he believes him, but is left squinting as the Dwarfs eyes are wide. He is looking at something above Hans, his hand points behind the young man as he stares. He whips around instantly, horrified he might have just said that in front of Jurgen, not wanting to make a scene in the tavern with the old priest. As his head swivels behind, nothing is there. No towering figure, no wrinkled man in garbs, nothing.
He swings back around, seeing the dwarf leaking ale down his beard, his laugh uncontainable as he lets it loose. "You really thought he was there! When will you stop being so easy to fool Hans? HEH HA!" His brow is furrowed in stress as he tries to enjoy the rest of his drink. "Veeeery funny, now can we get back on track? I wanted to ask you a couple of things before the night ends." "Sure, sure, fire away." "It relates to earlier a little bit, so keep your voice down for this one." The Dwarfs eyes cock back curiously at the warning. "I'll see what I can do for volume but go ahead and say what's on your mind." "I'm sure you've noticed the increase in military forces coming through right? The lack of returning forces as well."
"Ay, so many lives lost out in those woods." Kothek's tone being more somber at the implied loses of these conflicts. "Well, I just wanted to know if you had any advice on… Beastmen. Anything like tactics or behavior even. I feel it's only a matter of time before they come through here, and I can't ask too many people about this. I feel I can trust you with this kind of, sensitive matter." "I can see why you want me to keep quiet, and why Jurgen may want to hear such an interesting topic." His beard scratching is quick paced as he ponders the question, a waiting Hans wondering if he was too blunt. "I've been around a lot of lands, but I only really have one memorable encounter with the beast kin." "I'll take whatever I can get. With how things are going, I'm not sure if I'll just have to hear about them from the safety of the tavern."
"It's more of a fun story than actual advice, but I hope it can shed some light." He clears his throat; his ancient pipes being cleared for his adventurous tale. "Several years ago, back when I was more involved in soldering the Dwarfen holds, we had a pesky group of beasts ambushing our caravans. Only the small ones of poorer travelers who couldn't afford muscle and relied on the roads to be safe considering how close they are to the keeps. Patrols were always too late, only killing one or two small throwaway beasts." "How did you deal with them?"
"That was the fun part, I volunteered with a few other garrison warriors, and we set our trap. A humble little Dwarfen carriage, nothing out of the ordinary as it bumped and shook across the rocky roads. We stop once the arrows start hitting the sides, punching a few holes into the side. Driver hops inside and locks the carriage up. The beasts spend a few minutes slamming the door before busting through and see ABSOLUTELY no one. They sounded right confused, sniffing around and lookin for the nearest dwarf to attack, but none could be seen." Hans refills his cup, nodding along. He has a pretty good idea on where this is going, but he still wants to hear it.
"So, the big one of the group, much taller than you or I right? He sees a nice, ornate chest at the back and goes to open it, and… BAM, I spring out from inside a chop of his head before he can react! Ahh, the sight of his hairy underling shivering in their hooves at the sight of a mighty Dawi prevailing! The rest of my allies emerged from the other various storages, chopping down the beast nearby. By the time we were done, the carriage had a nice shade of red for the interior, and the ambushes stopped." "I'm surprised they didn't smell you, a compartment full of Dwarfs seems like it would carry a scent." "It would, and did to some extent, but we sprinkled some black powder in there. Blocked the scents and gave us a last chance effort in case they were more than we could handle." He shines his armored knuckles with a rag, blowing on it and wiping it like a trophy, obviously proud of the memory.
So far, ambushes are the biggest thing to go off of. Maybe he could get Kothek to cook something up, maybe a couple traps to secure the property? It could probably be afforded. "Did that sate your curiosity lad?" "I think it did, for the most part." Not much at all, but it was a nice story. "Sorry if I don't have more to tell on the topic, I'm more experienced when it comes to Grob warbands, the beasts don't usually get as close to us, they prefer your more temperate climates. Cant handle the cold like Dawi can." "Right, guess it's just one of the perks of having pleasant scenery out here." "That it is, that it is. But why don't we get back to some better topics. How's things on the farm? Must be a real thrill if you need to take a break here so soon."
He explains his story once more, having it delivered swiftly so he can avoid talking about his home too much right now. As he wraps up, one of two exiting patrons clumsily bumps into Hans hard enough to move his whole chair, immediately getting hostile at the careless contact. "How the hell did you bump into a sitting man?!" The damaged, dirty face of the clumsy walker looks down in partial disgust, lips creasing from anger. "Why don't you try and sit somewhere not in the way, you lonely drunken bastard." "What did you say to him?!" Kothek responds to the insult much quicker than Hans would have thought to, the sound of a weapon getting drawn forcing Hans to try and deescalate the problem.
Before he can though, a buddy of the aggressor grabs the careless man's shoulder, putting his own effort in to resolve this. "Drop it Ben, look where you walk." "I'll kick your- "The shorter aggressive man spins back to see a taller figure standing over him, looking tired but just as worn in terms of bodily damage to the face. Realizing it's his friend, he swipes his hand away and storms off out the door, only a few of the tavern patrons paying attention to this. As the shorter man storms out the door, Hans sit's himself back down, the tone feeling interrupted as he tried to get back into the swing of things.
"Well Kurt, I appreciate you stepping in. Would have gone a lot worse if he had tried to fix it." His finger pointing to the Dwarf across from him, his axe put back into its slot. The blonde ruffian scoffs annoyedly before following his friend out the door, being watched by the patrons to make sure he doesn't pull anything else. Once gone, the two continue the drinking and chatting, feeling strange how quickly that happened and resolved itself. "Do you think he'll still invite you over for Festag dinner?" "If he had a home to celebrate it in, i still don't think I'd get an invite." "Maybe if they did something worthwhile with their lives, they could have made something of themselves." "Possibly, but who knows. Back to us though, I need another mug." They continued their drinking, casual catching up as the night went on.
"Why did you try and stop me?! We could have kicked in their fucking teeth!" "WE, would have been arrested by the guards after the Dwarf knocked us down for the second time." "We could have done it, should have just let me get the first punch in!" "Not when it might be your last." The two mismatched characters wander the towns edge, most of the folks sleeping soundly in the dark homes as the day officially ended. The shorter black haired scrappy one of the two, Ben, was still fretting about what they could have done. The taller, slightly cleaner (but not by much at all) of the two, Kurt, followed behind as they looked for a spot to slum it up for the night. "Hey, I got an idea." "Not again Ben, if you think I'm gonna rob the church with you ag- "
"No! Not the church, somewhere that would be easier." He keeps his head swiveled as he looks to make sure no one else overhears them in the quiet streets. He pulls his taller accomplice down to his head level to try and almost whisper the plan in his ear. "If Hans is in there with the Dwarf, his house must be empty right now, right?" "Someone could still be living with him." Kurt tries to warn with no avail. "Bullshit, that man is all by himself out there! He must be pretty wealthy to keep that big of a house and property. We just gotta sneak in and out, no problem!" "We just got caught the other week, one more and-"
"I'm tired of eating rat meat DAMNIT! We can get a carriage to the city after this, more chances for better scores." Kurt's stomach rumbles and tattered clothes reminded him that this isn't the worst idea Ben has had, and an easy one at that if he is right. While he tried to keep them out of trouble, the moment something seemed possible, his reason would shift dramatically, bringing him to Ben's level. "Well… I would fancy some actual meat and ale. Let's hurry, don't want him catching us in the act." A dirty cackle slips from Bens lips as they make a dash out of town, towards the supposedly empty property.
As the two disappeared into the night, a hidden spectator emerges from the shadows. Jurgen stares at the fleeting figures with a great amount of curiosity. He would like to have reported this to the guards and have these two locked up for good, but on the other hand, this may help him. If they see anything inside Han's is house that he suspect may be in there, they will run back here to tell all of the horrid things inside. Or they may never be seen again if he is right. Either way, it would give him a little more context to his suspicion and keep him from getting directly involved. Which will give him more time for investigation. Either way, the more problems Hans has, the better his chances are of solving this hunch. He skulks back into the shadows, not to be seen by any for the rest of the night as he plans further ahead.
As she daydreams of the pleasantries she has experienced, her interest is drawn to the weapons and armors on the walls. Propping herself up, she takes down the sword and shield with the wolf emblem, the one she had actually seen recently during her battles. She hadn't actually held the gear of those smaller than her, and it felt rather strange. Her hand wrapped around it far more than it should, making wielding it a little janky. The shield could be gripped a little better. But as she held it up, it did not cover nearly enough of her to be of enough use to bring to battle. She looks to see that the others with the yellow coloring marked by the sun, and the red and white marked shields are of similar build. Not wanting to further tinker with this ineffective gear, she fetches her axe from upstairs, bringing it back down towards the fire. The dirt and chunks of who knows what are much more prominent now that it goes unused, the state it's in leaving her more annoyed than it should.
With an oiled rag from the kitchen, she gives her blade the attention it deserves as she cleans the grim and grit away from it surface, leaving it more presentable by the minute. As she did the idle task, she began to hum lowly without realizing it. It wasn't by intention, or even the hum she did when tired, but just a relaxing thing she began to make a habit out of. As the blade appeared like new at the end of her treatment, she began swinging it around, trying to get back into a sense of being capable once again. She does her various swings and twists, her stiches not as dire as they once were.
As she continues her movements, she starts to gain the feeling of her old self again, a smile on her face as she realizes she can move forward now. Her self-triumph is sent into shock as she swings up just a wee bit too hard, unintentionally lodging her axe into the ceiling. Her heart stops for a second seeing the splinters fall from the ceiling and her weapon losing its momentum. The shocked expression on her face would be comical if any were there to see it, but alas, it was only her with a huge problem at this house. She quickly yanks on it, trying to get it down. It doesn't budge very much, so she begins to shake it around to try and unstick it. It starts to come loose, at the cost of the hole she made becoming wider the further she withdrew from it.
She pulls with her full body weight, freeing the axe from the ceiling in a sudden motion, tripping her onto the ground and sending the axe clattering against the floor. She looks up, relieved it didn't relodge itself in the other direction. But she stares at the new gash in the ceiling, trying to assess the damage. It's not as bad as she thought, but it was still noticeable. She thankfully couldn't see up to the next floor, not that this was much better. Picking up her weapon with her ears folded down in embarrassment, she tries to think of some kind of solution. With her limited know how, she looks around for something to cover it.
But as she searches and seeks, she can't seem find a thing to help her with this, not only to find something to cover it, but nothing to keep it up there even. Pacing rapidly with mounting stress, she comes to a solution she feel might not make up for this. "I need to apologize." She mutters to herself, her pace slowing as she decides on this solution. She can ask for forgiveness and offer services to make up for the damaged ceiling. With her current condition, she could probably hunt for him easily, or help move things too heavy for himself. She has seen the patience this man has shown, so maybe this could work. Even though she feels as though it should be fine, she still has guilt building up inside her chest.
No matter how hard she tries to convince herself it will be fine, it doesn't get rid of that nagging guilt telling her it won't be enough, how she should have been more careful. Sat cross legged, her huffs of irritation drown out the crackling flame of the hearth. This type of thing was easier when she lived in a tent that could be stitched closed, the first downside of her new dwelling now exposed as she came to terms with needing more caution in here. As her eyes continue staring into the ceiling, her ears perk up, sounds that were not present before now being faintly picked up by her raw senses.
The distant sounds of boots on soil made their way toward the building, more clarity with each step. She could make out the sound of 2 people coming towards the house in a casual walk, not in a hurry, nor trying to sneak. As the steps came closer, she peeks out of the front window, keeping her profile low to see who Hans is bringing back. But the two figures she sees coming don't look anything like Hans. The size difference between the two was comical almost, but they had a much more dirty and rugged appearance compared to the man she has met here. What the hell could these two be doing here?
If they live here or are a planned visit, she should have been told! She makes a bolt upstairs, making a mad dash for a room to hide herself in. After the words of caution from earlier in the day, she is NOT risking getting her and Hans caught and interrogated. Halfway upstairs, she runs back on instinct to grab the axe on the ground, trying not to leave a trace. Quick stomps upstairs and she shuts herself into a room on the opposite side of the hall this time. Instead of neat beds and mementos, it is dirty, dingey and unkempt in this chamber. Boxes and barrels scattered about, stuffed with random materials. She holds still, letting her breath adjust to the dusty environment and letting choked coughs out of her system before it's too late to do so.
She leans against the door, not risking it being opened at all. Her body somehow freezes further when she hears the front door shaking, the sound of the lock being tinkered with shortly after. "Can't you open this thing?"
"I COULD, if you'd get off my back!" The duo sounded frustrated as the front door rattled louder, the sound of a metallic click was followed with a loud slam as she heard the entrance burst open. "Ha haaa, knew you would get it!" "Just shut it and start searching, I don't wanna linger." "Yeah yeah, I'm looking." "Say, why is the fire still going?" "Huh? Who cares! Just get to it, maybe he tried to burn his house down on purpose." "But someone co-""Shut it, no one's here!" With her breath finally under control, she realized that these two were not here on any consenting terms, the next thought being that they must want something from Hans. (What could that man have possibly done to have people searching for him?!)
The internal thought is skewed when she hears the steps upstairs, her body softly firming itself against the door. "Don't you think we should have kept searching down there?" "You think he keeps his gold in the fucking kitchen? Is that where you would put yours?" "I could drop you down the stairs you know." "As if." The dysfunctional due confused her, were they really targeting Hans? At this point, it seemed like they had stumbled in here on accident.
The sounds of furniture being moved and rummaged through rang through the house, the rooms being searched eventually leading to her side of the hall. "Found his jewelry!" "Ooooh, that should get us something nice. You think it was his mother's?" "Id hope so, snitching bastard deserves it after all the trouble he's put us through." So they were here for Hans, or his property at least. She should go out there and stop this, to help her friend and solve this in the easiest way she knew, but the thought of Hans coming home to see blood and carnage? She felt uneasy as she knew it would most likely mean an end to their comradery, getting his rifle ready to put her down for good if he thought she had become the savage he originally saw her as.
The door handle rattled against her, the realization that she forgot to properly lock it fills her with panic. The door doesn't budge against the light push, a confused grunt on the other side. Suddenly the pushes are more forceful, the full weight of the smaller man trying to force it open. She wouldn't let it budge, her full weight resting against it as to not blow her hiding spot. "Let me try." She could hear the smaller man grumble something before promptly moving away to let his larger counterpart try. The charges were slightly more weighted, but still not enough to get her entrenched hooves to budge.
"Bastard must have nailed it shut, who the hell does that?" "You think he's got some kind of treasure in there?" "Nah, probably saw a rodent and nailed it up out of fear, the bitch would." Though she didn't find it all that funny, the teller of that apparent zinger chuckled to himself as if he had made sense, the larger man sharing her sentiment silently. "Let's go, we got enough fancy wears to get to Reikland at this point." The larger foot falls heading toward the stairs before getting stopped. "NO, we can probably still get more!" "I'm not turning this whole place upside down for a handful of coin Ben, lets leave. Now."
He said trying rein the wildly one in. "No, I've got another idea!" "Oh no you don't." "Hear me out, he's gotta be hiding it! We just gotta wait for him to get home." "And what? Ask politely where he keeps all his worldly possessions?" "In a manner of speaking, yes." "I don't follow." "We tie him up and knock enough bones loose till he tells us where he's hiding it." "But he'll report us before we can make it to any cities, we'll get stomped out before were even started." "Not if we splatter his throat!" She could hear something rather small being unsheathed "Ben, you can't be for real, murder?"
"He's had it coming! Think, he'll be too sauced to fight back, and no one comes out here. We'll be gone like the wind before they ever find the body! I'll do the killing; you just do the punching." "Ben, we should NOT, cross this threshold! We've never killed anyone before!" "And we've never had a taste of the good life! We could change both of those tonight for the better. Come on, don't you hate those missing teeth of yours from the dwarf? Think how mad he'll be if his drinking buddy bites it!"
She could hear some stressed pacing of the larger man for several minutes, before a deep, tired sigh escape his mouth. "Fine, but I'm not touching your knife, that's on you. I'll go wait by the door now to get ready." His voice sounding bummed and defeated." "That's the spirit! I'll keep working on this door, I still wanna know what old farm boy has to hide." "I'm getting first dibs on spending though, since I want nothing to do with this." "Yeah whatever, big baby." The pair split, with the smaller man left in the upstairs.
After all she had heard, the anger and stress had built to a critical level. She would NOT, let them harm Hans in any capacity. Screw staying hidden, she is ready to act, the most effective way a warrior like her knows how. One more silent breath, then it's time to spring.
Ben, feeling incredibly proud at convincing Kurt, had a little extra shimmy in his step as he tried to figure out the best door opening method. Looking through the small keyhole, all he could see was a strange yellowish color, not at all what a storage room should look like. It almost looked like a pelt of sorts, strange he thought. He slapped his shoulder, readying for another charge. With a run up, he slams to the door, feeling it grow slightly looser, a good sign he thought. One more run up, and he slams again, the THUD echoing through the home.
"This time I got it!" He stated loudly, trying to hype himself up to success. As he charges the door, not looking clearly, he hears hinges open. This time he slams into something else entirely, something somehow softer, but much more solid. Whatever it was went against his momentum, having enough weight and size to bounce him back completely on his ass. Not even a moment after impacting the ground, a great weight lands on his midsection, knocking what little air he had left right out of his lungs.
His blurry vision is hardly able to clear before he sees the massive animal human form towering him. He spots the wild eyes of the beastmen atop him, it's stare seeing him as nothing more than prey. With the split second of breath he gets, his scream is high as he realizes the desperate situation. "KUR- "A large, furred hand grips his mouth, holding with nearly enough force to pull his jaw away like a cheap toy part, his muffled screams trying urgently to be heard.
He sees the other hand reaching for his throat, his wailing arms having seemingly no effect on the beastmen pinning him. As the hand inches closer, something strange happens. It seems like the approaching hand of death is… slow moving. (Is this what they mean by life flashing before your eyes?) As the fingers inch closer, his body finally letting shock take its full hold, he is reminded of every time he was in this exact position. From every fight he was pinned to the ground, to every time his own father drunkenly wailed on him. All those memories flooded back, reminding him the helplessness he felt every time.
But as he felt the beast is nails make contact with his neck, he knew it was too late. No mother to save him, no Kurt coming to pull the assaulter off before he got to hit back, no. This was it, the end, he could feel it! Like the crash of his train of thoughts, life sped back up to normal speed again. The nails wedged themselves into the side of his neck, his scream becoming wetter but still muffled at the stabbing pain. Quickly and messily, they darted across to the opposite side of his neck, sending blood and bits of gullet away from his body. The pain was unreal, his body trying hard to let the shock take over and ease the pain.
He could feel each liter pouring onto the floor, the tears in his eyes obscuring the one who did all this. The ironically soft hand of the beast removed itself from his mouth, his lips still trying to make words, but his vocal cords missing to let them flow. He writhed, mountains of throbbing pain replacing what feeling he had left. But for every second of suffering, he felt the cold shock of death pulling him away, the only consolation he gets at the end of the road. If he had one thing left to say, it would be to Kurt, and how much that man meant to him. All the trouble he had been kept out of, and saved from once already started, his distance made in life were all thanks to that man Kurt. He feels only regret and fading fear as his eyes finally start to lid, his time is almost up.
Wiping her claws on her fur, she steps back up, intent on "dealing" with the other guest. But as she looks over to the stair well, the petrified gaze of the larger intruder stairs, a few tears leaking down his face and an open mouth of shock. The man darts back downstairs, screaming insanity as he makes for an escape. She lunges to chase after him, but nearly falls when something pulls her leg. Her turned head sees the hand of the bleeding man holding her, the lifeless gaze mocking her as his dead muscles grip her.
A swift kick shatters the wrist, freeing herself to pursue the target. Once down the stairs, she sees him more than halfway across the ground level, eyes set on the door. Her sprint has her nearly the same distance in a third of the time. The man, hearing the mad clopping behind him throws a nearby chair behind, trying to buy time. All it does is piss her off further as she punts it out of the way, some splinters coming off it loudly as she gets closer. He runs through the open door, his screams still not getting any attention like had hoped. With one foot out the door, his whole body is rocked as the speeding bullet of a beast tackles him the rest of the way out.
With a dirty dust filled thud to the ground, he tries to turn and wrestle the monster off him, not doing as well as he hoped though. Turned around now, he could see the manic eyes of the beast bearing down on him, its exhales almost looking like steam with how angry it looks. It rears an arm back, clawed fist clenched tightly. He holds his arms together to guard, hoping his years of back-alley brawling would save him. All it did was delay the inevitable as the fist came plummeting down, cracking the bones in his arms, rendering them as useless hunks of hurting meat as he began to cry.
"PLEASE, LET ME LIVE, I HAV- "The fist came down once again, not intent on slowing down to hear any sort of offer. The screaming was replaced with a disgusting crack of bone, the struggle over. There she sat; breath aggravated as she looked down on the caved in skull of the robber/potential murderer. Standing back up, she walks to the river, washing the red and flecks of white off her hands before she continues. Though the second intruder seemed to have better intent, she saw no way for him to leave here without exposing herself.
She walks back upstairs, looking into the glassed eyes of the first intruder, his skin going pale from blood loss, the ruined hand barely connected to his arm. Ignoring the red pool and leaking tears, she drags him back outside, laying him down next to the apparent ally. She gets a proper look of them now, both looking to be in poor condition before this. "What to do now?" She should get rid of these, before any other unwanted guests show up. Taking a good look around, and keeping her ears open for anything, she comes to the decision of burial. Hoisting both bodies over the shoulder, she grabs a shovel leaning against the tool shed, and begins the trek to a certain spot in mind.
Though a little more tiring than she would have thought, she makes it back to her old carriage. The bodies were now missing most of their fluids, majority of it thankfully being in one place she could deal with back at the house. Tossing them into the ditch, she follows, landing with more grace than the corpses. She can see the beast of burden that pulled her here was mostly picked apart, animals and natural rot taking a hold of the creature. Ignoring the shattered remains, she sets to digging, intent on trying to hide this as best as possible.
She never had to deal with this before. Usually, the bodies would be feasted upon by the ranks and it would solve itself. She rarely ever partook in man flesh, but the thought couldn't be stomached now that she knew Hans.
With the holes dug, and her back tired, she drags these two to their final resting place, a rather appropriate spot considering how she thought they were scum. With the layers of dirt being thrown over and patted down, the rain and wildlife should help obscure this, not that anyone would ever be out here to begin with. Hoisting herself from the pit, she treks back in a hurry, terrified Hans may see this, and she won't be able to explain herself.
Arriving back at the house, she starts with a rinse in the river to get some of the blood off, filling a bucket while she's there for cleaning inside. She quickly flips the bloodied soil at the front, trying to use the smell and look of the dusty soil to obscure it. After some churning and twisting, she can't smell nor see it clearly anymore, and if she can't sense it, no way a human can. With bucket and newly acquired rag in hand, she goes upstairs to deal with the biggest mess, kneeling and getting to work clearing the pool of blood. With every dip into the bucket, she has more time to think on this, the smell of metal filling her nostrils as she cleans. She never would have seen herself cleaning her own carnage, it was a new experience. One she didn't like but felt like she needed to feel. These new feelings were starting to get annoying.
With a newly cleaned floor, she uses a little of that washing gel she was using in the river, trying to obscure the powerful copper smell of the blood. Though it didn't spread well, it at least did the job. The now bloody bucket and blood-stained limbs of hers tell her the deed is done, she can take it a little easier now. After one more river bath, she heads back in, setting the thrown chair back, and resting by the fire, a stressed groan emitting as she wonders what to do now. The mess is all gone, she could tell Hans, but will he believe her or even see it from her perspective?
Could she be honest? Maybe she would be rewarded she thought, considering those men mentioned wanting to harm him by name. She also heard something about a Dwarf. He must live a grander life than he lets on if he has people trying to assassinate him, one she feels must be uncovered now that she is apart of it. In truth, she also just wants to know much, much more of this mystery man. As she mulls over the decision, she spots the mentioned jewelry off to the side, fallen to the floor. She quickly swiped it up, taking back to the room she heard the robber take it from.
She puts away the various rings and necklaces, all of them rather eyes catching to her. But she wont risk Hans seeing her with any yet. As she has the last necklace in hand, she notices the oval pendant has a latch, her curious digits flipping it open. Inside is a small, aged photo of three people posed together, reminding her of the paintings she would see in various raided manors. The tallest of them was a mountain of a man with beard hair like the generals on the field she had seen. The mans head had a similar amount of wildly long wood brown hair, the facial hair creasing upwards to show a smile beneath the facial bush.
The next in height was shorter women, compared to the largest at least. She had hair of much lighter brown color, reminding her of a type of shelled nut she can't remember the name of. Her eyes were soft, a light green piercing the rest of the drab colors of the photo. Another smile marked her face, her hands resting on a small boy of mixed features between the two. The child had a wide toothy grin for the picture, the woman hands on his shoulder implying she is only thing keeping him from bouncing around. "His family seems… nice." Assuming this is his family, she wonders where they are now, if not here with their son. Laying the pendant back down, she goes back to the fire, more than a lot to mull over. She would need a decide how to handle all of this and how to ask the question she wants answered without treading into unstable territory. Truly, her plate was full of decisions.
Hey everyone, I'm sorry about the time between these chapters! I had to redo/rewrite a bunch of parts cause I'm still trying to iron out some of the direction in this story.
Bunch of other stuff too, like going from a part time to a full-time job, several relatives getting covid and several family emergencies, I have just had no free time to have a schedule for this. Although with things getting clearer, I should hopefully have some more time to work on this, especially since I have a clearer idea what I want to do with it now!
I really hope you enjoy the chapter, sorry if it's a little long, I didn't know if I should have broken this up more or not, but I am grateful for all of your patience here and am glad people like the story so far! I also appreciate people pointing out lore stuff in the comments, my knowledge on this series isn't the biggest, and finding stuff on it can be tricky, so I appreciate the pointers!
(Also, when I use parentheses like this, it's to express a character thinking to themselves. Just wanted to clarify.)