Sons of Gailland: chapter 7

Chapter 7

The fire crackled merrily in the dim common room of the Happy Boar Inn as a lone man lounged lazily in the corner of the room. His boots rested on the table top as he reclined against the wall in his chair. His wide brimmed hat was sloped lazily over his face and his fingers picked slowly over the strings of the worn mandolin lying across his belly. He wore long black pants of a strong leather and a green traveling cloak with a hood. The bar tender, a large framed bald man with a prominent mustache, whistled along with the tune while cleaning the empty mugs lining the bar.

"Do you know this little diddy, Oscar?" the musician asked the bartender, as he continued to play along.

"Me mudda usa sing it when I was jus' a lil bloke." Oscar replied as he inspected a mug he had just polished to a fine shine. "She could sing like a bird, me mudda," he finished before grabbing another mug and continuing to whistle along.

"To sing like a bird is a true gift indeed my old friend," the man said never moving his hat. He joined in with the whistling bartender at first by humming the tune and then he began to sing.

" The faithful knight rode along upon his fearsome steed,
Down the road to face his foe the evil host indeed.
His sword aglow he cut a swath making his way,
Through the horde of orcs so brave to win the day."

He sang as the shadows from the fire began to play out his ballad on the far wall of the closed inn. They showed the faithful knight drawing his sword and charging head long into an army of dark shadowy figures until he reached a large one in the rear of the group and they became entangled in an epic battle.

The bartender stared in amazement at what he was seeing as the man in the corner continued to pick the strings of his mandolin without a word. The battle raged across the room, around the corner, and came to rest on the front door of the inn.
The knight raised his sword over the kneeling enemy ready to plunge it into his chest and end the ballad when the door was thrown open, and six orcs came plodding into the room.
. . .

Braydin and Kalin stood in the officers quarters just before sundown on the island. It seemed to take longer for the sun to go down here than anywhere they had ever been. Kalin stared down at the crate with his name on it and Braydin did the same with his crate.

Kalin shrugged, "There's no time like the present, brother." Braydin nodded and they opened their crates and began to inspect the armor Archy had made for them. Kalin ran his hand over one of the pauldrons, examining the lackluster color of the metal. "Why do you think Archy picked this metal?" he asked Braydin while he began fastening the breastplate over his chain mail shirt.

"Your guess is as good as mine,Kalin. In fact you're a blacksmith so your guess is probably better than mine." he replied as he fastened the leather strap for his left bracer. "It is very light, I hope it will defend us from the sword as well as magic." Braydin continued as he examined the bracer.

Kalin noticed that his brother was wearing Cade's gloves and smiled to himself as he realized what an impact the little man had made on his brother. Kalin finished his armor first and began to read the note that Archy had left for them. His eyes scanned the parchment and whenever he was finished he stared at Braydin in astonishment. Both brothers looked amazing in their armor. Kalin's hulking size emphasized by shining metal plates following the contours of his muscles was a sight to behold. Braydin's nimble and fluid movements resembled that of a cat as he danced around the room with his sword testing his new armor.

"You know, " said Kalin "This armor can do alot of stuff."

"Really? Like what?" Braydin asked as he lunged with his sword once more.

Kalin looked from side to side inspecting the room before noticing a tankard on the desk. He pointed a finger at the tankard and said "Elewhynne!" A bolt shot from the tip of his finger resembleing a bubble of air elongated into a tear drop. The bubble slammed into the tankard causing it to shatter and scatter across the room in tiny pieces. "That was the weak one." Kalin said as his brother stood before him with his mouth agape.

Both brothers sat and read over their parchment, learning the gnomish command words, as they waited for the sun to sink into the oceans dark depths.
. . .

The orcs sat down at a table near the door and began to talk and joke with one another. Oscar looked at the musician, who had not moved a muscle, before walking over to the table. As he approached the orcs began demanding food and drink.

"Sorry 'gents but we're closed fer tha night." he said as he gripped the mug in his hand until his knuckles whitened. "So you and yer lot get on out of here and don't be causin' no trouble." The largest of the group stood from his chair and looked down on the bartender. Oscar backed away from the foul smell of the orc's breath as the creature loomed over him not saying a word. "That's a mighty fine ring you've got in yer nose there." Oscar remarked without a hint of fear or hesitation in his voice.

"The general said no trouble here in the port, Bull" said a slightly smaller orc still seated at the table. The large orc looked from the humble bartender back to one of his companions. The creaking of leather straining under pressure could be heard as he tightened his gloved fist at his side.

Bull began to speak in an eerily deep voice. " My mouth is dry and I would very much like a flagon of ale before my companions and I make our way back to port." Oscar was taken aback by how well spoken this savage beast was but by all recollection he had told them that the inn was closed.

"Sorry we're closed, Bull." He said with a nod toward the door "And closed is closed me friend. Now I suggest you and yer friends be toddling along before that general of yers gets a reason to be upset with you."

Bull looked back at his two hulking comrades and nodded once before slamming his fist into the side of Oscar's face. Bull's eyes widened as he watched the bartender continue to stand in front of him cleaning his glass. A dark bruise began to appear around Oscar's left eye and his cheek began to swell. Now all three orcs were on their feet knowing that a fight was coming and they weren't sure that they were prepared.
Oscar's hand darted up to Bull's face and snatched the giant ring from his nose and tossed it aside. The oversized orc screamed in pain as black blood flowed through his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound. The hulking monster became enraged as he tipped his head back to let the blood flow down his throat. Oscar's hand struck out once more landing squarely on Bull's throat crushing his wind pipe. As the brute clutched his throat and begand gasping for air Oscar's fist connected once more on the tip of Bull's chin. The room fell silent after the sound of bones twisting and cracking under the force of Oscar's punch. The two other orcs waited only a moment to observe their large friend lying in a pile on the floor before taking their leave of the Happy Boar Inn.
. . .

Braydin peered through the brush, spying on the orc patrol camp. Four orcs stood around a fire talking and laughing in their coarse language. Braydin had been watching the camp for nearly an hour now and finally Kalin's large form moved into position on the opposite side of the camp. His ears perked up as he heard the signal from Thorn. The orcs seemed to pay no attention to the strange bird call emanating from the thick forrest of this strange island.

Braydin made ready to leap into the camp as soon as the twins initiated their part in the ambush. Suddenly one of the orcs stopped talking and his body went rigid from the arrow implanted into his back. The orc next to him began to sound the alarm but a large black arm wrapped itself around his head quickly followed by a dagger dragging across his neck. Another arrow sent an orc to its back clutching at the hole in its throat as the fourth began to flee. Bryadin stepped through the brush and buried his sword into the unsuspecting orcs belly and watched as he bled out on the ground next to him.

"Quickly throw the bodies on the fire and let's move on!" Braydin said as he stepped over the dying orcs body.

Kalin lifted the nearest orc by the collar and tossed it toward the fire in the center of their camp, the twins hastily followed suit. Soon enough the fire was blazing and the four men were trudging quietly through the woods.

"That's the third group of guards we've encountered in the last hour, Braydin. What could they possibly be worried about?" Thorn asked brushing aside the branches as he walked.

" I'm not sure but I think we should stay alert and make for the main camp as quickly as possible." Braydin answered as his back disappeared in to the darkness of the forest. Kalin and the twins followed quickly and quietly behind Braydin without question.

The small group stopped whenever they came within sight of the main camp. Three large fires burned at the center of the camp surrounded by orc soldiers. Tents flanked the fires on all sides and small wooden huts were built lining the area. This large patch of mostly dirt and rock was at the base of the looming mountain that earlier billowed smoke from its peak. The orcs here were not on guard and most moved about their personal business, roasting food in the fires or laying out bedding for the night. They were all armed and potentially dangerous.
The brothers were more concerned with the other species in attendance at the camp however. A group of orcs closely guarded a circular cage to the right of the fires light behind the tents. The muscular orc in the black plate armor barked orders to the orc overseeing the prisoners, before walking back toward the largest tent in the area. Something caught his attention as he pulled back the flap and changed his mind about retiring for the night.

The five orcs guarding the cage were now running in circles and rolling in the dirt for no apparent reason. The commander cautiously walked back to where he was previously standing and watched with disbelief as his fearsome soldiers rolled in the dust screaming like children. Then suddenly to everyone's surprise the door to the cage flew from its hinges and out stepped a small man with ring of white hair making a horseshoe his head, wearing ragged clothing and waving his arms wildly.

The commander took a step back as this odd little man moved toward him still waving his arms at an insane speed. Braydin and Kalin exchanged glances before signaling to the twins to approach the camp. When they next looked upon the orc commander he was being tackled by the five orcs who were previously burning in the imaginary fire. Once again Braydin looked to his brother who only shrugged and continued forward. By the time the group had reached the opening the commander stood in a blood fueled craze gripping his sword tightly as he crawled from the pile of bodies he had just created. The little man looked around for an escape then steeled himself for an unstoppable attack whenever one wasn't found. The commander charged the small man and was surprised when his blade met resistance instead of the soft flesh of its target.

"Magic!" Thorn exclaimed as Marco slapped him on the back.

"We better get out there and help the little guy before his bravado wears off," Marco said to the Brothers.

Kalin nodded at nearly the exact same time as Braydin before saying, "Marco, you and Thorn circle around and give us support. If this turns into a bad situation at least we wont have shown all of our cards."

Braydin nodded once more and mumbled a word under his breath to disengage his camouflage. The night was dark enough that he could slip in behind the commander without being noticed. The twins went quickly into the darkness as Braydin slipped quietly into the tent line making his way toward this new enemy.

Kalin looked once more to the statue before drawing his sword. "I hope this works," he said, "for the gnomes sake."
. . .

"Well Oscar? What do we do with this one?" the bard asked as he tentatively poke the dead orc lying in the floor of the tavern.

"If'n I didn't know no better I'd say yer a bit afraid o' them ol' orcs, Miles." Oscar mumbled as he checked the tenderness of his eye. " I guess we'd better check his pockets. Wouldn't ya say?"

Miles hadn't waited for the invitation. He was already through with three pockets and the inside of Bull's vest when Oscar had made his observation. Miles had known Oscar since they were boys and had been in similar situations hundreds of times. Oscar left the room as Miles did his work carefully checking each and every hiding spot on Bull's enormous body for any indication of treasure or useful items he might have had when his life was abruptly ended.

"Well anything good?" Oscar asked as he walked back into the room with a slab of steak pressed to the left side of his head.
Miles looked to Oscar with concerned look etched across his face. "About forty gold coins, a few silver and coppers, a silver handled dagger, and a piece of paper with the sign of a dragon stamped in the wax seal."

"Dragon ye say?" Oscar questioned with a raised eyebrow. "Well whats it say?"

Miles broke the seal on the letter and rolled it open. His brow furrowed as he scanned the document written in the orc's native language. He looked to his long time friend with worry in his eyes. "This is an orc captain, Oscar."

Oscar nodded as if he had already figured that much from the blow to the head. "So whats he doin here in Port Ugal? Resupplying?"

Miles shook his head and began folding the letter to place it in his pocket. "He was leading a scouting party for the armies of Sideous Hornklaw, ruler of Klostonia, lord of the orcs, and son of Jiube Orclaw." Miles tucked the paper neatly into his vest and said, "Hornklaw is coming here in less than two weeks with his entire navy with plans to sack Port Ugal and claim its inhabitants as slaves of Klostonia."

Oscar nodded solemnly and tossed his steak into a scrap barrel next to the bar. He walked into the small room behind the bar and retrieved a long staff of oak and traded his twisted rope sandals for a heavy pair of riding boots as Miles gathered a cloak and pack from the same room.
"We have to warn the Magister and prepare for a siege war. He will never take our home from us, Miles."

Miles retrieved his worn mandolin from the corner and walked toward the door. He paused and looked back over his shoulder with a wicked grin smeared across his face. " And you thought our adventuring days were over old friend." Miles quickly flicked his wrist and the silver hilted dagger that once belonged to Bull vibrated to a halt in the counter top of the bar. "I've still got it!" Miles exclaimed as he and Oscar disappeared through the door of the Happy Boar Inn.