"Webwitch, the Great and Terrible"

By Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe

And, of course, the Webwitch (who's player's responsible for the bad Oz title here)

Year 815

"Break Out."

By Ethan Suder
Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe

K'vol ran as fast as she could, her long hair streaming behind her. She ducked under branches and jumped over others. Her skirt was bunched up round her waist giving her long legs freedom of movement. She grinned from ear to ear. The Webwitch was going to save her sister, Alleluia!

She ran till so could no longer. Ethan said before he left that if she needed him to scream. 'Well' she thought, 'lets give it a go!' "ETHAN!!!" She yelled loudly sitting down on the forest floor smiling to herself.

Ethan jumped off his horse and made his way through a thick bush before emerging on the other side and seeing Eshe sitting on the ground. She was facing the opposite direction but looking around. He walked up to her, his approach silent. As he drew closer, several meters away, he finally called out. "You talked to her then." he said.

K'vol jumped up and flung her arms round Ethan kissing him on the lips. She was so happy. She pulled back after realising what she had done and composed herself. "I did." She replied. She couldn't help but smile.

Ethan looked around and then down at the ground. Part of him was happy to see someone so happy. He hadn't seen anything like this for years. Everyone else was so depressing and morbid. This was happiness at it's best. "So what now?" he asked looking back into her eyes.

"I need to get my sister out of the hospital and take her to the Webwitch." She said, "Will you help me with that too?"

"Why not." Ethan said. He thought for a second. He replied without thinking. This wasn't him, playing the hero for the girl that needed help. So why was he suddenly not bothered. He half smiled at her and gave a nod towards the thick bush that led to his horse. "You can tell me everything on the way." he said. As he began making his way to the horse, he continued to ponder why she was asking him to help and not one of the local hero's in the village.

She stopped him by grabbing his arm gently. Moving round to face him she encircled his neck with her arms and standing on tip toes kissed him deeply.

Ethan got hit with old cold stunner. For a few seconds, his world of darkness and for the first time years, he was thinking of her in ways he hadn't when he had first met her. After the kiss, he took a deep breath and just looked into Eshe's eyes. They were so beautiful. And her hair was so golden, what with the sunlight bouncing off it.

He moved closer and kissed her again. Then he stopped and rubbed the side of his head. He didn't want it to seem like he was taking advantage of her because he had helped her. They had a job to do. One second longer here kissing was a second they weren't helping her sister which was the priority. The thought struck that maybe when they took a break for the night, set up camp, just maybe....

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I owe you." she said looking slightly confused.

"You don't owe me." he said turning to continue walking towards the bush that would take him to his horse. "You never did."

"I don't understand." She called after him.

"Anyone who would be willing to give themselves to a stranger for their sister, family deserves more. I'm not going to take advantage of you to satisfy my own needs because of a debt. Shouldn't be that way." he explained as he reached the bush. He raised an eyebrow as if asking if she was coming or not.

She shook her head, "But I thought." she started, but then stopped. She followed him blushing slightly with embarrassment. "How can I repay you?" she asked.

"You don't have too." he said climbing through the bush. Once through, he jumped on his horse. "We'll ride until it gets dark and camp out. But we should be where we need to be by tomorrow morning."

She wanted to persist. She felt that she must give him something in return, food maybe she thought, but then he had all the food he needs here. She stayed silent feeling the redness of her face increase.

She stayed silent all through the uncomfortable ride.

*** Later that same day ***

Ethan had started a nice big fire to keep them warm. It was going to be a cold night. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and there was a slight breeze. Ethan climbed up a tree and sat on a branch whilst Eshe went on a nother call of nature. He sat back against the trunk and thought about the kiss earlier. It was something he would have liked to have continued. She seemed smart and caring, and was pretty damned attractive.

When K'vol returned to the fire Ethan was no were to be seen. She didn't worry too much, she was glad to be alone with the fire for a moment. She sat poking it with a stick thinking about what she had done earlier that day. The kiss. Sure she had kissed him mainly for payment she owed him for his help but when he had kissed her back it had felt good. There had been so much passion in that kiss, something she had never had with Barron K'vol.

Ethan watched Eshe for a long time, admiring the beauty. At long last, he called out to her. "So I guess if we have to break your sister out, she's in a guarded place?"

His voice broke her thoughts, she looked around, it had grown dark. Finally her eyes found his silhouette in a tree. "Hu, yes. I guess. Not guarded as such, though the room she is kept in is locked and she is strapped to a bed, with bars on the window." she thought for a moment, "I guess it is guarded!"

Ethan took off his robe to let the fresh air get to him and cool him down. He continued to look down at Eshe. "When we get her out, and she gets help, what then?" he asked. "She and you will live a normal life?"

"I will have to return home. If my sister can lead a normal life then she will take the family home and land, her heritage."

"Good." he said quietly closing his eyes. He still couldn't get the kiss out of his head. It was good, but then seeing as he hadn't kissed anyone in years, any kiss would probably have been that good.

She felt tired the day had been a long one and they had so much to do the next day. She lay down close to the fire and slept.

Ethan watched as Eshe slept and dropped off the branch. Grabbing his robe he moved over to her and placed it over her. Tomorrow was going to be an unusual day. But then a normal day would have been dull. Time would tell what would bring of this stranger.

***************

The next morning.

K'vol awoke feeling the robe over her, the fire had died out and left a smouldering pile of ash on the forest floor. As usual Ethan was no where to be seen. She tutted to herself wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Ethan returned a short while later on his horse and began packing items again. He smiled at Eshe as she looked at him. "Morning. We had better get going. People will be waking up soon. Best to do it now. If people hear anything in the building, they'll just assume someone's up early." he explained.

She nodded her agreement and handed his robe back to him, "On the way back I need to stop at the house, pick up some things. Payment for the witch and the like. I might even be able to get another horse." She said.

Ethan thought for a second while continuing to pack. She hadn't had any payment but herself to offer him. But she had payment for the witch. It made him think that maybe the whole time she had planned to offer herself. Nah, that was stupid. She didn't even know him and she was not a whore. No way in the world!

"Year 815: Now An Common Person"

By: Roseanna MacAllen,
Singer/Painter Kathy MacAllen,
Roseanna Servent
Jasmine Thelan-Bannon, Tavern owner.

**Year 815, Near By An Local Tavern**

The young Roseanna was getting tired while her young servent girl an redhaired woman name Kathy MacAllen was pulling the subborn horse. After the young former noblewoman who now is an Singer and Painter after losing her husband, children and all of her family and kingdom to an madman an local warlord who wanted Roseanna for his bride but after refusing him telling him that she was already married...lets just say the killing and fire was unleash.

Kay looked back to her mistress knowing that she was thinking about it, then Katy saw an very huge Tavern insight.

"My lady I will go look, I be right back ma'am." the young Scotish woman said while walking into the Tavern looking around.

Jasmine was sweeping the side path when she saw the young woman approach. "Greetings ." She said with a friendly smile. "How are you this fine eve?"

The young Katy smiles back and walked over with an small bag of gold, "How much for an room we be staying for little while my mistress and I that is."

"Its 3 copper a night. 4 if you wish breakfast as well. A silver for a week. Baths are inculded." Jasmine said.

"Here an 50 silvers, like I said we don't have anywhere else to go my mistress home and family been killed an burn to the ground now she just an simple singer and painter."

Jasmine nodded. "Very well, bring your lady around to the front door, I am sorry this is just a simple Tavern,.. the rooms are not what you are use to.."

"It better then been force to marry an evil Count." the young Katy replied while walked back outside.

An few minutes later an beautiful, young brown haired woman in her middle 20's walked in wearing an simple brown dress.

"I'm Roseanna MacAllen, thank you for letting me have one of your rooms I promise not to stay long until I get my own place."

Jasmine smiled in a friendy manner. "Its no problem. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. One warning though.. I suggest you be in your rooms at dusk.. the bar gets rather .. noisy after that."

"As you wish but Katy will be down here visiting most of the time I promise she can take good care of herself." the young Roseanna said while looking outside as the moon is coming out.

Meanwhile Katy walked in with her and Roseanna things like an good servent she put the stuff upstairs and getting everything for her mistress.

Jasmine nodded. "Very well." She said. She was not use to nobles in her tavern but she gave everyone the same treatment, of kindness and politness."I have water heating for your baths. It should not be long.."

"I will help ma'am." Kathy replied while walking around with Jasmine, Roseanna when upstairs to get ready.

"Can you do me an favor since my mistress is no longer an noblewoman, just can just call her Roseanna..she would like to put the painful past behind her." Kathy said while helping Jasmine with the water, Katy MacAllen is very loyal to Roseanna have been since there childhood together.

Jasmine had two helpers in the kitchen with the water. They began to carry it up stairs while Jasmine looked at Kathy. "If she is noble by blood then she will always be a noble. She will be treated as such." Her tone was calm and firm.

"I just hope you won't treat her as such, in this time town Roseanna is an nobody."

Jasmine shrugged. "Here she is a guest and shall be treated as such. " She paused. "When your lady has finished bathing inform me and i shall have a tray of food sent up ok?"

Kathy looked at Jasmine then nods at the young woman, "As you wish ma'am anything else?"

Jasmine shook her head. "no.. just watch yourselves down here after dusk. Like i said things get noisy."

"Over a meal"

Saladin Intelligencier to the duke
Jasmine Thelan-Bannon, Tavern Owner

Jasmine rubbed down the bar in the 'Golden Griffin' She concentrated on trying to get a stuborn stain off the wooden surface. As she worked her tavern was begining to fill for the night. Her barmaids already were running back and forth with mugs of mead and platters of meat.

Saladin came in to the tavern after coming in to town. Looking around he caugth the tavern owner seated at the bar and the intelligencier to the duke was one to listen to tavern talk.

He looked over at Jasmine and nodded, "Good even m'lady."

Jasmine gave the man a polite smile. "Good Eve Saladin. What brings you by today?"

"A meal, a glass of wine and the company in the tavern." He turned his most charming smile.

She nodded and turned to a barmaid who ran off to the kitchen. Jasmine meanwhile went and got a glass of wine for him and put it down in front of him. "Here you are sir."

"I thank you." He looked at her, his normal friendly eyes also seeming to search her soul, "what news have you overheard?"

"Nothing new of Late. Jack has been making trouble for the law again" she said naming the theif that was a regular in her tavern and who's main alibie was her. "Oh and a newcommer to town has rented a room upstairs." she glanced at the intelligence man. "And old Grisle guts over there is a cheepskate."

He mentally filed it away, "Well Jack has always been trouble but he is the sherrif's trouble not mine. THe newcomer is curious, I may introduce mytself as for the cheapskate, that is your affair Just hide the body." He joked.

"The newcommer is a former noble. Or so her maid keeps telling me. Lost her lands and family to an evil lord. Pays well though. Is now a singer and painter... or so she says." She paused. "The cheepskate is not worth hanging over."

"Oh that old story." He dismissed it with a wave, "the evil lord is probably gambling debts or ale."

"Burned to the ground So she says." Jas shrugged. "None of my concern as long as she pays well and does not bring trouble here."

"If she makes trouble for the throne she becomes my troubles." He looked at her and shrugged, "I will check her story." Looking at her he gave her a charming grin again and paid her for the meal, part of his rules was no debts would he owe.

The meal was placed down in front of him. "I doubt she will be trouble. Seems kinda shy," Jas smiled at Saladin and put the money in the cash box. "Enjoy your meal sir" she said as she did so.

He nodded, "I would enjoy some comapny with it, woudl you care to join me for the meal?"

She gave another smilee, this one shy. "Saladin you know i never eat with my customers." she said...

"Fair enough, then do not consider me a customer, consider me a friend."

She raised an eye brow. She looked around at the busy tavern. "oh ok.. just this once." she gave in

THey began to talk, he focused his attention on her as they talked about anything, he kept an eye on the tavern to avoid people ambushing him.

Jasmine also kept a wary eye on things. Especially when a patron got too drunk and stumbled towards the intelligence man. "oh oh."

But Saladin turned and directed the drunk away, it was no violence needed with a drunk. THen he examined the man, "Poor fool, drunk again."

She nodded. "Ever since his wife died... he has been here eveynight."

He nodded, " a tragedy. We are still searching for the highwaymen who did this."

Jasmine nodded again. "Good. Soo what else have you been doing Saladin?"

He looked at her, "Keeping the duchy safe, walking in the woods, hunting with friends." aquainreality: She smiled. "Sounds interesting."

He smiled back, "It is..." Taking her hand he gently squeezed it, a friendly gesture before finishing his meal. Another of his rules was he did not get intoxicated in public, to lose control was a fear.

"Your usual excellent meal and the company was wonderful."

Jasmine smiled. "I shall relay your compliments to the cook Saladin. I am sure he will be pleased."

"He should be, he has excellent skills with his pans."

"That he does." she agreed.

"You have done well with your cook. And your tavern."

"I only continue what my father left Sir," she said modestly.

"You have done him proud." He finished his wine

"I bid you good day Jasmine..."

"Good Evening Saladin. Have a peacefull night."

"You have a profitable night."

"I hope to." she smiled at him in a friendly way.

He smiled back and bowed over her hand as if she was a countess, "Farewell, I shall see you later."

She blushed and watched him leave.

OOC - Here marks the time jump to the year 820.

~Battle of the Cryers~

In the year, 820

"Hear ye! Hear ye! All ye fine citizens of Galaxia, hear ye!"

The messenger had rode in not more than five minutes ago on a black horse. It was tied to a stone on the side of the road. He stood on a raised platform, the base for a large stone obelisk in the center of the intersection. He had been screaming since that time, saying very little besides 'hear ye,' and a crowd gathered around waiting for the news.

"Hear ye, I say again!"

"Get on with it," an impatient woman yelled back from the crowd.

"The king is ill!" he shouted.

"He's been ill for five years, what else is new?" Hecklers.

Undaunted, the cryer continued, "The king is gravely ill, and near death! The capitol's doctors say it will only be a couple months! But, the king has not chosen a replacement!"

Mumbling from the crowd. Few are surprised.

"Duke Hoth seeks to be king! A fair man, a lover of the common man!"

Two young boys snickered at the front of the crowd, "A lover of the common woman."

"Duke Hoth seeks the support of the people of Galaxia! He will protect his allies when Kling invades! Kling, the nation of barbarians, wants our lands; they want Galaxia's lands! They want to kill your men, and take your women as their own! No child is safe, no farm, no merchant, no diplomat is safe from the blades of these monsters! Support Hoth, and fear not the crusades of outsiders!"

Sounds fair. So, we support Hoth, the crowd thinks. What's an oath for protection, oaths are free.

"To help elicit your support, Hoth, the true owner of this land, managed by the good count Bhrode, has created a tax! A tax upon all those who voice dissent against Duke Hoth!"

Indignant roars from the crowd. Mobs do not like to hear the word 'tax,' not unless its immediately preceded by the word 'no.' They were only silenced by the hard sound of horse hooves on the pavement. The new rider quickly darted through the crowd and climbed up the opposite side of the platform.

"Hear ye, fair citizens, hear ye! Do not listen to this knave!" the new messenger cried. The first stood quiet, shocked by his upstaging. "Hoth does not deserve to be your king! He desires a war with Kling! It is Hoth who wants the lands of Kling, and not the other way around!"

"Those words are false!" shouted the first rider. The mob remained quiet in pleasant surprise, this could be an interesting show.

"No, they are not! Duke Price wants peace! Support Duke Price as the new king, and you will not have to fear war! You, your families, your crops and your business will thrive under Duke Price's honorable hand!"

Good crops and good business, that sounds pretty good, the crowd thinks. And no war to top it off. But Hoth is the one with the tax.

"To help elicit your support, Price, the true owner of this land, managed by the good count Bhrode, has created a tax! A tax upon all those who voice dissent against Duke Price!"

We've heard this before, mumbles the crowd.

"Price is a fool! He does not own Galaxia, he does not even deserve the fallow lands his castle sits on!" The first one yelled to the crowd, but it was aimed at the other messenger.

"Price's lands are the most productive in all of Lefedera. Allow him to be king, and his blessings from God will extend to all of Lefedera's!"

"Fair citizens of Gal--ack!" the Hoth man began to shout, but he was cut short as the local sheriff yanked him backwards by his collar. He dragged the man off the platform and threw him to the young deputy below. The second messenger laughed at the first, thinking he had won a victory. But, the sheriff grabbed him, too, throwing him off by the back of his tunic. The mob was in uproar, but then sighed, their entertainment was over. As the group began to disperse, conversations began to pop up. Nervous conversations. The fight between Hoth and Price was already encroaching in their valley, they would not be able to remain neutral forever. But, what of these new taxes? They already paid a pretty penny to Bhrode, the last thing they needed were another two greedy noblemen seeking their copper.

But, some had already chosen a side. The sheriff had thought his duties for the day over, but sporadic fisticuffs were breaking out in the street around the obelisk. Hoth-lover, Price-lover, warmonger, coward, cried the new fighters, and the mob had another show. Yes, the fighting had reached Galaxia. And some feared it would tear her apart.

“Please Leave”

=/\=Thelan-Bannon=/\=

By Jasmine Thelan-Bannon
Owner of the ‘Golden Griffin’

“NO I do not want to sell Sir!” Jasmine’s voice was raised in exasperation. Her tavern was a booming business and two years ago she had brought the house next door and turned it into a guest house. The man before her thought if he offered enough money she would be dumb enough to let him buy the place. She was not. This was her father’s legacy and she would be damned if she was going to sell it. Jack had retired and was running the bar for her.

The man disapointed and disgruntled walked out of the Tavern and Jasmine smiled satisfactorily. That had been the FIFTH person wanting to buy the place in as many days. Something was going on. Just then into the tavern stepped a tall man. She groaned softly. She had heard of this man, and yup right behind him was the Hoth man. She stepped out from behind the bar and walked over and said. “BOTH of YOU OUT.”

They stared at her. “Now you listen here Ma’am.”

“NO YOU LISTEN.” She snapped back. “I do not care if you want to blather on about which Duke is best, BUT YOU WILL NOT DO IT IN MY TAVERN.”

“Your Tavern?”asked the Hoth man. “I want to speak to your husband.. or father young woman.

“MY Father is dead and I am not married. NOW GET THE HELL OUT!”

“You heard her boys.” Came a sneering tone from a table.

“yeah do as Jassy says or we’s a gonna get rough.”

“We don’t want none of your stinking politics NEAR our tavern. Now Git!”

Other mumbles around the bar agreed with those already said. Men all around the bar stood and moved to back the owner of the Tavern.

“GO preach elsewhere!” Jasmine snarled. “And Make sure you are far away from me. This is a drinking establishment, not some hall for you to bad mouth each other’s boss. Now get lost.”

The two men scampered and she followed to make sure they left her property. The Price man gave a parting shot.

“You will be the first taxed Whore.”

He then took off at a run because three men who had know Jasmine since she was a babe went after him and his pal. They knew Jasmine was as pure as the day she had been born…

NRPG: Short and Sweet, just setting the stage for interation with either the Crackpot Doctor or the master thief(Thief VS Thief?)

"Business as Usual"

Klaus Fienberg, Local Galaxian Crackpot Physician
Erik Stiener, Master Theif and Member of the Teutonic Theives Guild.

By Now, Klaus knew of his friend's odd past, but he didn't care. The Bond between countrymen was too strong for such things.

Klaus owned a little crackpot herb shop in Galaxia, near a local Inn(Take a guess on who's Boss.)

Erik wandered in. Klaus was organizing his placebos. "Afternoon my friend. Pick up anything valuable."

Erik smiled an presented a plump purse full of coins. He quickly stuffed it back in his pocket.

At that moment, a local peasant wandered in. "Hello good sir's, I have a need for your services."

Klaus lit up, another sucker. "Come on in my friend, I should have what you need." "Now, what is your problem."

"My son, he has a strange sickness." Klaus' saddened. It was time for the real stuff. "He lays there in pain, as if unable to wake up from a dream. He was bitten by a strange large insect."

The Crackpot recognized the sickness and the grim truth, he also knew that there was little he could do, but he did have something to ease the way. "Give him this. It might help. Otherwise there is not much I can do."

The man prepared to pay, but Klaus refused."Take it."

Erik walked up to his friend after he left. "What was the matter?" "A dear love of mine died from that insect." "Who?" "My hound. But the effects of the bite are the same on men. I gave him an herb to make the end come painlessly."

"Well, I must now depart. I must begin a nights hard work, for the sun now sets."

"A brief interlude"

Grey the Thief

Grey edged closer towards the men, her natural curiosity getting the better of her. They were from town but more important than townsmen. She smiled and shook her head. The men had thought to wear dark cloaks but had forgotten to change their fine shoes. Such meetings were not uncommon in the forest, especially of late.

"Not all those in the employ of Lord Price are loyal." One of the men was saying.

"If we could get a man close enough..." Another cloaked figure contributed.

"I don't work in "coulds", Sir. We must implement a definite plan. This threat must be taken care of." The third man said.

Grey silently slipped back into the trees, her interest fading away. The three showed no signs of drink or signs of having coin on their person for that matter.

What did she care for the politics of man?

“The End of the Swan and Sword”

By Jamison ‘James’ Lionel Corgan Former Mercenary and Starving Artist

Guest Starring Gertrude, Tavern Owner

Location: ‘The Swan and Sword’, Galaxia

Note: Special thanks to ‘The Man Show’ and ‘Who’s Line is it Anyways?” for inspiration for my bar songs.

“Ohhhhhhhh….” Sang the inexhaustible crowds of The Swan and Sword, as high on the music as they were on the low quality barley derived liquid they drank, “OH…. HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI!!!!!!!!!!”

The Swan and Sword was at its busiest yet. Jammed from shoulder to reeking shoulder with drunken peasants, all hooting and hollering, singing and dancing, jostling and howling, the scummiest watering hole in Galaxia had the joy of life and the vibrations of celebration in everyone. The foundation of the wood and thatch building, aged for years and barely holding up as is, was shaking to the tune of hundreds of inebriated serfs…

And one charismatic bard.

Hence was the situation at The Swan and Sword. It was a decrepit old building, rife with vermin and stink. Only the bravest, or the most foolish, entered.

The golden locked bard, handsome and energetic for a man who’s life experienced hardship and bad luck, could be classified as both. As mugs of ale were hoisted in the air, as peasants sang and drank, and as the tabled rumbled with stomping feet and moving bodies, the Bard whipped the crowd into a frenzy, by jumping up on a table, dancing, and strumming a song on his lute.

“Oh… there was a lusty court jester.” “As randy as they come.” “They say she’s loose, they say she’s fast, they say she’s lots of fun.” “If you run into the lusty court jester.” “Then boy, you’ve got lots of luck.” “’Cause they say, for lucky is they…” “She a really good ****!”

The crowd sang back, “OH… HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI!!!!!!!!!! OH HI DE HI DE HI DE HI DE HI….. DE…. HI…. DE….. HI…… HIDEHEY!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The golden haired bar entertainer took a bow, amidst a shower of ale from mugs being swung about. His gaily colored entertainer’s clothes, a collection of golden and purple cloths crudely stitched together by bar owner Gertrude, was stained with the splashed ale. Like a good entertainer, James paid the rowdiness no mind. It was the same every night. The same drunken serfs looking to forget their dull lives with another one of Gertrude’s pints of whollup. The same cheering as entertainment brought some hope into their bleak existances. The noise that drown out thought altogether. Stressful, but enjoyable. James wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Thank you, everybody!” James finished his bow, “And thank the boys at Count Brhode’s keep for the wonderful tale of debauchery! And if you meet the lusty court jester… be sure to thank her in person!”

“HERE HERE!!!!” A group of ignorant, dirt coated farmers cheered, slamming their mugs together, then taking a drink.

“HOLD UP!” James bellowed for everyone to listen, stopping everyone from drinking, “Aren’t you all forgetting something?”

This was one of the few moments where everything was silent. James waited for a cue, any cue to come along. Usually, one peasant spoke up.

”Ziggy zoggy?” One of the young lads piped up.

James pointed to the young man, “Your damn rights! It’s time for the Ziggy Zoggy, boys! Get your glasses together and say it with me! Gertrude, my pint!”

A haggard, fat old lady carrying a mug of ale waddled up to James table. The bard bent down and picked it up, thanking the old woman. “Alright… lets go! Ziggy zoggy, ziggy zoggy, hoi hoi hoi!!!!!”

“ZIGGY ZOGGY, ZIGGY ZOGGY, HOI HOI HOI!!!!!!!” The peasants followed, “ZIGGY ZOGGY, ZIGGY ZOGGY, HOI HOI HOI!!!!!!!”

On cue, James raised his tankard, and took a long quaff. The peasants followed his lead and drank their mugs. For a long second, everyone drank, emptying their mugs, the sucking and gulping sounds of peasant throats a disgusting sound to the more civilized mind.

But to James, it was business as usual. It was his job to keep the peasants happy. Weather by drink, song, bar traditions or games, he was the man to keep the lower class entertained and happy. By then, everyone finished chugging. Now the ceremony called for the ritualistic slamming of mugs and cheering of lungs. With more than usual, the noise of a hundred bellows and thumps rattled the door hinges!

Being that James’ set was already over, he slung his lute to his back and went back to the bar counter. There, Gertrude was already preparing the next batch of drinks. In her eighty years, she looked as if the years were harsh to her. The late nights and rowdies should have done in the old woman twenty years ago, but as James learned in a recent bar riot, she was a tough old battleaxe that wouldn’t say die. The death of her husband twenty years ago, leading to her ownership of the bar, made her even more mentally and physically strong despite her age. James had the utmost respect for her.

Gertrude’s voice crackled as she spoke, “Another good night for business, Jamison.”

“You can say that again.” James wrinkled his nose, “The pig farmers just sold their latest batch to the slaughterhouse, didn’t they?”

“Sure did, and each of those fowl smelling brute’s is gonna go home happy.” Gertrude trundled, a tray of drinks in her hand, “Drinks in their bellies, songs in their heads, and gold in their pouches… as long as the thieves, gamblers, whores and swindlers don’t take it first.”

James laughed, “I hear that, Gertie.”

“Yeah…” She sighed, handing out drinks to a group of peasants, “And I’ve got to thank you for that. Five years ago, this place was nothing but a sh*thole with a leaky roof and some bad ale. Now it’s a sh*thole with a leaky roof and bad ale… but with a dirty mouth of a singer and some customers!”

“What can I say?” James shrugged, “I was desperate, broke, and I needed help. You helped me out. Least I can do is bring in business.”

Gertrude fondly looked at her money maker, “That you did boy. That you did. Now be a dear for once and help an old lady at the bar counter, will you?”

“Sure thing, Miss.” James bowed.

Gertrude blushed, “You’re as slick as beargrease, you young bastard of a man! Now go serve drinks at the counter.”

Jokingly, James and Gertrude parted. ~”Bless that old woman.”~ He thought. Gertrude was the one that gave James the job as the Swan’s official entertainer. She didn’t make it easy. At first, she was skeptical that the Swan and Sword needed entertainment. It took weeks of pleading. But being a charming young gentleman, James was able to convince the old widow of the benefits of lowbrow, crude limericks when combined with drunkenness. James became the minstrel of the Swan and Sword. Weeks later, more regulars showed up at the run down alehouse. Then more came, at an alarming frequency. Though they didn’t enjoy the ale or the fact that the building looked as if it could fall upon them in a heartbeat, they enjoyed the joking and the singing (it also helped that after a couple of mugs, people were too drunk to care about the taste). Five years later, Jamison Corgan was known throughout Galaxia as ‘The People’s Poet’ (mainly because the people’s tastes were far from sophisticated). Only at The Swan and Sword. Come and be entertained!

Of course, not everything was well. His vocation kept him from other opportunities. The local writer’s and entertainer’s guilds wouldn’t accept Jamison Corgan as one of their own, because James chosen art was not ‘art’ per se, but more of a ‘filthy, disgraceful performance fit only for the unwashed masses you entertain’ (an actual quote from the guildmaster of the poet’s guild).

He also thought of starting the Brotherhood of Red again, but that was not meant to be. Sheridan ‘Shelly’ O’Rourke was now a Barrister, Edward Grayrock a jewelsmith, Tessie… dear Tessie, she was now a bowyer, and Walter Marsh was back in the Count’s militia. With his friends now in legitimate professions, and the only recruiting base being The Swan And Sword (which brought in undesirables such as cutthroats, thieves, bawds, and pig farmers), James gave up his dreams for being a mercenary once again.

Therefore, he was stuck in his dead end life. Fun, but no way out of his life.

He set about serving drinks at the counter. By gods, he couldn’t get over how much those peasants drank! Was life that dull? It was times like this he was glad he didn’t become a peasant like his father desired. That life was too dull for him. Action or entertainment, that was what he wanted to do!

“Oi! What’s that you say?” One of the pig farmers shouted to a nearby peasant.

The peasant replied, “I say Duke Hoth ought to be king! That bloody pampered dandy Price has as much backbone as an Earthworm!” The peasant boldly stated.

The bar fell strangely silent.

~”Uh ohhhh…. Not again.”~ James sighed. Every night, he had to hear about the commentary of the peasants on their favorite King to be. The Duke Hoth/Price conflict that was bound to happen (according to the peasants) was the big talk of the day. Gossip about the conflict to be was everywhere, items such as Duke Hoth’s army being ready to attack Kling as soon as the previous king’s armies were liquidated. Duke Price’s promise of farer prices on grains and livestock when he became the ruler. And of course, the promised taxes on those whom didn’t follow either Duke. It was popular gossip, and a perfect matchstick to set fire to another bar riot. ~”Get out of there, Gertie…”~ James begged.

The old woman went between the two men. “Both of you, settle your arses down before I get you both tossed out!”

Both peasants said together, “BUTT OUT, OLD HAG!”

Both men shoved Gertrude out of the way. She hit the table with a light thump, her ego the only thing bruised. She gestured for the bouncers at the door to get ready before the fight got escaladed.

“Well, Duke Hoth’s gonna teach those filthy beggars at Kling what it’s like to respect us, and its about time too!” The first peasant spat.

“So? Hoth wants to bring us all to our doom! Duke Price is gonna keep our kingdom prosperous!” The pig farmer spat back.

The two peasants glared. Then unexpectedly, the pig farmer swung the first fist. The blow caught the other peasant in the side of the head, sending the sprawling body into a table. The wounded peasant’s friends jumped out of their table and gangrushed the pig farmer. Then the pig farmer’s friends came out of their tables and tackled the enemy peasants. Before anyone knew it, there was a ten man brawl in the center of The Sword and Swan.

In such a melee, others were caught. A errant fist or elbow caught another man, thereby bringing their drunken fists into the fray. Bodies being shoved into people turned spectators into participants, and still more swung and slammed, screaming for blood. The bouncers were overwhelmed by the fight, until they were nothing more than combatants in the sea of chaos.

James ducked behind the counter, avoiding a rain of thrown mugs and shattered glass. His fingers fumbled under the counter as he searched for…

“THERE!” James felt cool metal on his fingers. He grabbed the item, his trusted pistol, and then felt for the next nearest item. He felt two small pouches and grabbed them both, hastily opening them up. He snatched two lead balls from one pouch and put them aside. Then, he grabbed his first pistol and took the second pouch, filled with powder. He poured powder down the barrel of his one gun, then the next, and pushed the two lead balls down each barrel. He had both guns in hand. Knowing his sword was somewhere nearby, James came out of the counter, aimed one pistol in the air, and shot!

The ear blasting boom caught some of the peasants attention, but it was not enough. Not even one shot could pacify the crowd.

“Ok… warning shot didn’t work. I’ll just have to shoot over their heads!” James screamed, taking aim.

But freezing very still.

In the brawl, a burly lumberjack was dueling with one of the merchants, when all the sudden, the lumberjack’s meaty fist knocked over an oil lamp.

In another corner, the pig farmer and the other peasant were trying to grab items to use as improvised weapons. The dumb peasant grabbed the oil lamp from the wall, and threw it at the pig farmer. Thankfully, the pig farmer jumped out of the way.

Unthankfully, there were two raging fires in the Tavern. Before anyone knew it, the panic gripped the crowd. Peasants screamed and scrambled to find the front entrance and the rear exit. The fire was spreading to tables and throughout the floor.

“SH*T!” James cursed. If the fire reached that ancient thatch roof, the whole building would go up! And with screaming peasants running out like beheaded chickens, saving the bar wouldn’t be easy.

Correction. Saving the bar would be impossible, since by the time James cursed, the fire was consuming the thatch roof. Smoke filled the room, choking the few remaining people. People were shoving and yelling for escape. Those who fell were trampled and hurt.

“Help!” Hollered the voice of Gertrude. James saw the old woman, still slumped on a bar table, a gash across her forehead. She was barely keeping on her feet.

James didn’t have much time to go. The fire was leaping faster than he expected on the old, dried out wood and straw. Stuffing the pistols in his breeches and the sword on his back, he lept over the counter to assist the old woman. Hacking and coughing from the smoke, Gertrude leaned against James. By gods, the woman was heavy! James had difficulty keeping her upright as she rejected the smoke. Bodies were scrambling out, the orange glare of flames a warning beacon for those who were close.

Pushing people aside, James found the bouncers near the doors, shoving people along. The bouncers flanked James and Gertrude, and got them out in good order.

Out from the glowing, hot hell of the tavern and into the cool, dark night air, James was relieved to be alive. Walking a further distance away for safety, James fell to his knees, hacking and wheezing, lowering Gertrude’s bulk into the cool grass.

“Gertrude, you ok?” James coughed.

The old woman shifted as she coughed out the smoke, “I’m ok… what about the bar?”

James looked back, expecting the bar to be engulfed in flames. His expectations were far from being disappointing. The Sword and Swan was indeed being consumed from the inside. Fire licked out of windows and doorframes. The orange and yellow flames lit the night sky, a star from hell. The heat was oppressive on James’ cheeks, the glare offensive to his eyes. Even the tavern sign, hung up since The Sword and Swan’s first year, was being eaten by hungry flames.

“She’s gone, Gertie.” James told her.

The old lady cackled, as if enjoying delicious irony. “Heh… figured I had to retire sometime. Didn’t think it would be so soon…”

“Guess so, Gertie.” James said, while thinking, ~”But what am I going to do now?”~

"Finally, a Love Spell Request" -Part, the First-

Jeremy Savoie, messenger of Count Bhrode
The Webwitch

"Goddamn thorns!" Jeremy shouted, yanking his arm from a long branch that had latched onto him from amid the briar thicket he traversed. The messenger was used to traveling by horse usually, but he had to dismount a good way's back upon entering this part of the forest. Now, as evening approached, he had to go it on his own where most men feared to tread in broad daylight and his nerves were beginning to fray.

Yet desperation was known to drive many a man to extreme measures as it surely drove this man today. For five years Savoie sought the affections of Lady Erin but to no avail. For a long time he avoided her, certain that she would only reject him for the cowardice he had shown in not approaching her sooner and more directly. But that only worked for awhile; soon he found himself unable not to gaze upon her, to listen to her soothing voice. After almost a year of skulking in the shadows of the castle and busying himself with the Count's business, Jeremy finally had to give in to the call of his heart, and he once again actively pursued his desires. After four years of Erin's rejection and the Count's interference, a weaker man would have given up. But Jeremy remained steadfastly determined to win the heart of the woman who had captured his.

And so he came into the woods late in the day to seek the assistance of one who could most assuredly help him, though at what cost he knew not. Many were the tales of the witch who inhabited this part of the forest, tales of children captured in the dead of night as food for her pet spiders, tales of grown men going mad under the influence of her spells. Yet she was also known for having cured many a person of possession and similiar maladies, thus her power was strong and could do good as well as ill.

The mists began to thicken as the sun continued its steady course to the west and Jeremy noticed spider webs here and there among the bushes and weeds . . . his heart pounded in his chest as he knew he was getting close.

The Webwitch left her son to watch Saladin as she left her hut to greet the one who was seeking her aid. As the nearly healed man was sleeping, she knew there was no chance of him leaving the hut and being seen since she ensured he'd be actually resting for once.

She watched from the brush as she saw the young courtier step cautiously through the webbed foliage. With a smile she guestured to one of her little ones and an almost fist sized spider decended on a silken strand to dangle in front of Jeremy's face.

Surprised by the large arachnid as it seemed to materialize out of nowhere right in front of him, the messenger let out a startled gasp and froze in his tracks to avoid walking directly into the creature. "These are indeed enchanted woods," he muttered to himself as his eyes darted from left to right in anticipation of more spiders.

"Show yourself, witch!" he called out into the trees. "I have heard you keep the company of spiders, and where they and there webbed snares are found you are not far off."

"Observing how one acts to suprises, tells much about a person's character.", the Webwitch said as she made her presence known. She reached up to the dangling spider and it happily skittered onto her hand and up her arm.

"As does the company one keeps," Savoie answered back as he uneasily watched the large spider run up the strange woman's arm. There was no doubt this peculiar person was indeed the webwitch of local legend, yet Jeremy found himself surprised at how non-threatening she appeared to be. Yet he remained on guard for appearances could be deceiving.

"I am Jeremy Savoie, messenger of Count Bhrode and I have come to your woods to seek your aid, enchantress."

"That is the only reason any come this way.", she said with a hint of amusement in her tone, "What aid do you seek?"

"It is of a . . . personal nature," he sighed. It was clear from the tone of his voice that the years of heartache were taking their toll. "For five years I have sought the affections of the Count's neice, Lady Erin of Friel . . . but alas, to no avail. She spurns my every attempt to win her heart, yet since she has most assuredly and completely won mine, I have no choice but to persist." He paused and glanced at the ground uneasily for a split second. "I am told your knowledge of spells and charms is extensive, and so I have come to ask for your help in my endeavor."

The Webwitch nodded. This was something fairly common up there with those who wanted the abortifacent herbs. "I can give you a draught to warm her heart to your affections.", she said softly, "But, there is a price."

Knowing this part would come, Jeremy braced himself for the worst. What would the witch ask of him? An unearthly sum of money? His first-born? Perhaps his very soul? It didn't matter; none of it meant anything next to the love of Lady Erin. The lovestruck man inhaled, then spoke bravely. "I am prepared to give whatever you demand. Name your price, witch."

"A child's toy of balls and jacks will suffice."

Savoie stood frozen, his face blank, then blinked exactly twice. "What?" he asked, astonished.

"A toy of balls and jacks.", she repeated. The Webwitch was thinking of her son, but wasn't going to announce his presence to anyone, not for a while.

Jeremy's eyes shifted warily, as if expecting someone to appear from behind a tree and reveal the joke. "Amuse yourself not over my misfortune!" he stated, the valiant bravery returning to his voice . . . mixed perhaps with a shade of confusion. "I am well aware of your dark intentions and treachery, oh mistress of Satan! I have stated what I desire and have promised to pay a fair price. If your intention is to refuse me then say so honestly, witch!" He paused, then leaned in conspiratorily toward the woman. "You . . . -are- the webwitch, are you not?" he queried quietly, as if to prevent any others who may have been listening from hearing.

"I am the only witch in these woods and do know that what one prizes differs to the next.", she said, her tone firm, "Why should I ask for gold? I need it not. Power? It has no allure for me. I only ask for what I need, and now, I do need a child's toy."

Jeremy had heard that the webwitch was unusual, but nothing in his wildest imaginings had prepared him for this. "Well . . . then . . . you shall have it," he stammered in a befuddled tone that was something between a statement and a question.

"I shall prepare the draught for you and it will be ready by nightfall.", she said, already ticking off what herbs she'd need in her head.

"Very well. I shall procure your, uh, items and return then. Where shall I find you?" He hoped he wouldn't have to grope about in the briars in the total darkness to find her.

"I will meet you at the edge of the wood, if that is acceptable.", she said, now debating to either make the draught a syrup or powder.

"Um, yes, that will be fine," he answered with a bemused grin. He'd never heard of a witch who liked to make things convenient for people. He was just about to turn to leave when he looked back at the thicket he was going to have to re-traverse to get back to his horse. "Say, you being a witch and all . . . um, I don't suppose you could, oh, zap me back to my horse or anything, could you?" Jeremy asked. He figured it couldn't hurt, after all, she was being so accommodating.

"I am just a witch, not a miracle worker.", she said with an unmistakable smile to her tone.

"Right. Very well, I shall return in a couple hours. Until then, fair thee well, oh Wicked Witch of the Woods," he said in an almost teasing manner.

Year 815

"Break out Part 2" [Backpost]

By Ethan Suder
Dhanishta Eshe
Appearing Chandrakala Lakshmi Eshe

When the horse came to a halt, Ethan guided Eshe down to the ground and jumped down himself. He looked around. Everything was so quiet. Not as quiet as the woods, but it was a horrid atmosphere here. An atmosphere created by people, each with their own agenda. He decided he would stay with his horse on the lookout while Eshe grabbed payment for the witch. Even after his insistence that it wait until later, he had been "hired" by this woman and was going to listen to her, even if he knew best.

K’vol walked up to the house she looked behind her and signalled for Ethan to follow, “No one must see you out here.” She explained. “Take the horse round the back, and I’ll open the back door.”

Ethan gave a nod and took the horse round the back. It was quick. He was eager to get on with things so he could leave this place.

K’vol opened the front door and walked inside. The hall was dark a door led off to the right the stairs were to the left and the kitchen was straight on. She headed towards the kitchen. Her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. The back door was on the opposite wall from the door and a little to the left. She opened it and left it a jar.

Ethan entered from the back door as Eshe had instructed him too. He tightened his clothes and readjusted his sleeves. He then saw Eshe crawling around on the floor pulling up floor boards. He didn't ask what she was looking for, no doubt her payment or something for the Webwitch. He just stood in the shadows, waiting for Eshe to find what she was looking for.

“Dam it, Dhani, where did you put them?” K’vol muttered whilst crawling around. She looked up at Ethan, she knew that he was egger to get off and complete his mission, he’d probably be happy to be rid of her. “You go on.” She said, “This will probably take some time.”

Ethan gave a nod and repeated their earlier chat in his head. She had told him where to go and what to do. He wouldn't be gone long. He left the house and was quick to mount his horse and make his way towards Eshe's sister.

******************

Ethan arrived at the hospital on his horse and dismounted her, jumping into the shadows as he did so. It was still really early. He looked into the distance, the sun would be rising within hours, then people would start waking up. He had to act quickly.

Along the side of the building, he found an open window with torches on either side to light up the outside and the hallway inside the dank complex. He jumped onto the ledge of the window and fell inside with such grace, it was silent and unnoticeable.

He ran down the corridor along the left hand side of the wall, counting the doors that he passed. As he turned a corner, he saw a middle-aged fat man sat on a stool sleeping. He figured this was one of the doctor-people Eshe had described to him. He didn't look like the healthiest of guys and was ironic he work in a hospital. He slid passed this over-weight man and continued to slither down the corridor.

Finally he came to the door he was suppose to be at. Inside would be number 117, Eshe's sister. He opened a pouch on his belt and pulled out a tool. With the tool he began picking the lock on the door. It wasn't that hard, a basic lock that took only seconds to unlock. The door slid open with a creek and Ethan stepped inside. On the bed he found Eshe's sister, her identical twin. It was amazing, the same look. Except this woman was skinner, with dark hair. He undid the restraints and was a little surprised when her eyes suddenly opened. A black that seemed to look into his soul.

At the touch of this unfamiliar Eshe writhed. Unrestrained her body jolted and contorted. She lunged at the stranger, punching, clawing, with her teeth bared and a wild look in her eyes, a deep low growl purring from her clenched teeth.

Ethan regarded this woman for a few seconds and then thought if he was going to take her out of here unnoticed, he couldn't do it with her in this state. He titled his head quickly, flexing the muscle in his neck and then punched out at Eshe's twin sister. He caught her as she fell to the floor, now unconscious. He slung her over his shoulder and made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him. He moved back down the corridor. Coming up to the fat man again, Ethan stopped as the man twitched in his seat as if waking up. But he remained asleep. Suder slipped passed and shot down the corridor. Arriving at the window he had entered, he carefully and gently climbed out with Eshe's sister.

After a few extended seconds, Ethan managed to secure this woman he had broken out of hospital on to his horse. Climbing on to it himself, he raced out of the area as quickly as he could.

******************

Meanwhile;

After Ethan left K’vol searched the house for money. When her and her sister had been children they used to hide any money they found, in all sorts of places; under floor boards, in walls, under beds, in the mud – anywhere. Their parents, Tanson and Kerenza, went mental!!! They would search for days afterwards and never find all the money. She remembered the ‘hiding’ she and her sister received well! Though now she was glad of her childhood games for she might be able to find some money to buy some food for the Webwitch.

After a while she heard a noise from the door and stood up. ‘Can’t be Ethan he didn’t leave that long ago’ she thought. The door to the kitchen opened and a tall thin man appeared, he had a small beard flecked with grey hair. He wasn’t an old man, middle aged. His crooked smile was a sinister one and revealed crooked, decaying teeth.

He removed his hat and bowed his head slightly in a form of greeting. “Baroness K’vol.” He said.

K’vol recognised this man. He was from the hospital. He was on the board of directors, or something fancy like that. He was the one in charger of collecting money owed.

She nodded her reply.

“Baroness, you are trespassing.” He stated. “This house and all it contains and all the land belongs to the hospital now.”

“Since when?” she asked

“Since your husband stopped paying your sisters… health…. fees.”

“That is not official, yet.” She responded. “This house is not and never will be yours. You’ll get what we owe.”

“That may be so but you are still trespassing.” He replied. His face expressionless.

“Where do you expect me to stay?” she retorted in an aggressive manner, “In the woods?”

“Is that not where you have been for the past few days?” he asked taking two steps towards her.

“What?” she asked puzzled and slightly worried, had he been watching her, did he know of her plan, what would he do if he did. “I went walking in the woods and,” she hesitated, “got lost.”

“I see.” He said. His fingertips on each hand touched and he bounced them together as he walked towards her. “We both know what is going to happen here.” He said.

“What?” K’vol questioned.

“Your husband has refused to pay our fees before.”

“Yes. But he always has paid them, in the end.”

“True. But I don’t think he will this time, what with the interest.” He said with a slight smile, like he was enjoying himself.

“What?” K’vol gasped.

He straightened up his point was made and he started for the door. He stopped and looked around. “You know from the money that we make from selling this house and all its land we will be able to care for your sister for about….” He thought for a moment, “a few years at least.”

“No!” K’vol wanted to shout but it came out more like a whisper.

He sauntered up to her and stopped just inches from her. “You know what?” He asked. Bending down to whisper in her ear, not that he had to for there was no one around, “For the right price I can make it all go away. Make your sister go away, for good.” He said whilst tracing his grubby finger down her cheek, neck, chest and over her breast.

“No.” she said in a much clearer voice whilst backing away.

He looked angered at her refusal, grabbing her jaw hard, he kissed her pouted lips. She pushed him away.

He staggered backwards and fell into the table. Coming at her again he hissed, “If I can make her go away, I can make you go away too. Know your station.”

She slapped him across the face, “Get out.” She told him. He responded with a backhand that sent her sliding across the floor into the back door. Within seconds he was standing over her hissing curses at her. She kicked him in the groin and as he doubled over she opened the back door and pushed him outside. Leaning heavily on the back door she bolted it and then ran to the front and did the same.

A while later a thump came from the back door, “This isn’t over. Devil woman.”

K’vol sat and cried. ‘Why was he so horrible so full of hate towards me?’ she asked herself, ‘of course,’ it came to her as she touched her smarting cheek, ‘Father Hotchkins was his father.’

*****************************

A while later there was another thump at the door. K’vol stayed sat on the stair afraid that Hotchkins junior had returned.

She heard someone shout Eshe and knew that it could only be Ethan. She opened the back door and let him in. She was struck when she saw her sister lying in Ethan’s arms, “What’s wrong with her?” She asked concerned. She noticed the big welt on her sisters face, “Oh my God. Did they beat her?” She then noticed the scratch marks on Ethan as he laid Eshe on the table, “What happened?” K’vol asked.

"She doesn't like me. I was getting her out when she attack me so I..." he paused and scratched his head, "I had to get her out of there in one piece, quie..." Ethan paused again and looked closer at Eshe. Something was different about her. He looked around the area with a confused, but investigative look. His instincts were telling him something was very wrong. "What's going on?" he asked. "What happened?"

She turned away from him and went over to the huge trough like sink. It had a pump that her farther had installed years back, it pumped water directly from the well. She pulled up the handle and pushed it down, she washed her hands in the water that gushed from it and wiped her face, being careful not to touch the bruise that was appearing on her face. “Just a visitor.” She replied plainly from the sink. “You should go, take her to the edge of the forest. I’ll follow when I can. I still need to go to the village and get my horse. Your mare can’t carry three of us. And we should get her to the Webwitch as soon as we can. I have some food that I brought with me…..” she started for the door to go upstairs.

"Ok." Ethan said. He took Eshe's sister and made his way out of the house. He didn't need to be told twice, he just did what he was told. Get to the Webwitch as soon as possible.

K’vol went up to the room that used to share with her sister. She rummaged through her bag. She had brought some food with her though no bread or cheese, which is what the Witch had asked for. She bundled up what food there was in a cloth and kook out some clothes and began to change. She heard a thumping noise and assumed that Ethan had returned for something. She continued to dress, quickly.

The door to her room crashed opened and Hotchkins junior stood in the doorway.

K’vol suppressed a startled squeal.

“Baroness.” “What do you want?” she asked, trying to hide her fear.

He brandished a knife.

“What I wanted was to kill your Devil sister, but she has escaped, again. I thought that the beating I gave her last time would have refrained her from doing so again, but I guess not.”

“So why are you here?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“I am here to slay the demon, the Devil.”

“I am not the Devil.”

“You are the spitting image of her, and her of him. You know she killed my father? You and she are the same. Devil women.”

He started towards her menacingly.

There was a loud thud and crashing noise. Everything seemed to happen in a split second. Suddenly, Hotchkins Junior was lying on the floor, his knife laying at the feet of Ethan Suder who was looking at Eshe, now suddenly a Baroness? He looked at her, to Hotchkins Jr to her again. He picked up the knife and thought for a few seconds. She had nothing to offer him for his services but she was a Baroness. She must have had something. He raised an eyebrow and walked over to Hotchkins Jr. Grabbing his hair, he pulled him to his feet and hit his stomach. Bouncing back a few feet, Ethan jumped forward raising his foot and kicking the man square in the face.

Hotchkins once again fell to the floor. Ethan slammed the knife down near Hotchkins. The knife came crashing down in the middle of Hotchkins hand, sticking in the floor on the other side of his palm.

Ethan stood up and looked at the knocked-out Hotchkins. Turning to face the Baroness, Ethan raised an eyebrow. "See you in the woods." he said before turning and walking out. He now had a lot on his mind. A couple of days ago he lived a simple life in the woods, now everything was so confusing. People lying, backstabbing, violence, what was next? He couldn't wait to get this over with, yet something still was drawing him to Eshe. If it had been anyone else he would have dropped the mission there and then.

"The Crusader and the Count"

John Bhrode, Count of Galaxia
Major Sir Cassius Henderson, Paladin of the Crimson Banner
Erin Thorne, Page to Sir Cassius

-Count John's Receiving Hall-

Sir Cassius entered the room that the guard and later the courtier had directed him to.  The count knew he was coming and was no doubt preparing to recieve the emissary of the church and of the Crimson Banner. Cassius, for his part, wore his armor and his heavy bladed sword resting on his hip.  His honor, as a Paladin of the Crimson Banner, was beyond question, though the two guards with their lances would no-doubt slay him if he made any false move.  This was normal for courtly interaction, and Cass was used to it.

Turning to the right, he walked down the long carpet, Erin just behind and to his left.  They approached the mountainous man on his throne.  So this was Galaxia...  Not quite as impressive as Erin had thought.  But then again, when Cassius had recruited her to the cause, she had been a farmgirl, a milkmaid's assistant. Now she was apprenticed to one of the land's greater knights.

"Announcing, Major Sir Cassius Henderson of the Order of the Crimson Banner, to appeal for a chapterhouse for his order," the court announcer said, then dissapeared into the bustle of the court. Cassius genuflected to the Count of Galaxia and saluted.

Bhrode looked upon the man who was kneeling before him.  A knight!  A paladin, no less!  Yet, no matter what the title, people only came to ask for something.  "Welcome," Bhrode said, in his deep, low roar. The servants in the castle all turned to face him at his word, they would never get used to hearing such niceties being uttered from the man, no matter how many formal visits they would be privy to.

"You come to ask for a piece of my land?"

"Alas," Cassius shrugged, the plates of his armor softly connecting with one another, making a clinking noise, "I do come asking for something, though I would much perfer that this were a mere social visit.  I have indeed come to request your permission to purchase land in your fief and to establish a chapterhouse of my order upon that land."

Bhrode leaned forward in his throne and his voice grew more agitated, "How much?"

"I would like to have four acres of land, which would give us enough room to graze horses and train on them.  I don't think we'd need anything more than that," Henderson replied, nodding.

"Tell me, sir knight, why do you come to me now to ask to do the thing you wish to do?  Why not a month ago, or a year?"

Again, the red tuniced paladin shrugged, "I wasn't the one who made the decision.  Lady Irene deMercereau, Marquess of Breenae, my immediate superior within the Order of the Crimson Banner, was the one who handed the orders down to me.  Her reasoning, as she explained it to me, was that I could offer you aide, as is true of any chapterhouse, and I could also work to maintain the admittedly tenuouse peace between those who favor the way of Duke Robert Price and those who favor the way of Duke Jurgen Hoth.  Life is.... complicated."

"There is no conflict here," Bhrode stated, "My people support their Count. They live not on lands belonging to either Jurgen Hoth or Robert Price, why should they concern themselves with the thoughts and actions of these men?"

"I think that you may be mistaken there, if I may say that.  Despite your people not being directly affected by the current ministrations of the other nobles, our King, god bless him, lies very ill.  Questions of succession and policy are currently being looked over by the Dukes and other nobles," Cassius said, then smile, "Though I'm sure you know that, being a noble yourself."

Bhrode nodded, his mouth displaying a small amount of surprise, "Very good. I am astonished by your knowledge of the current events of our country."

The count rose from his great chair, gathering the fine cloth of his robes near him and adjusting them so they lay on his frame comfortably.  He stepped towards the wall of the large room, long, slow, sweeping steps. There was a window there, a break in the fine masonry of the palace, overlooking a section of the village.  Many houses and buildings and roads cluttered the foreground.  The commoners bustling about in their daily lives distracted the eye and cluttered up the ears, but beyond them, in the distance, was peace. The main western road that led from the village traced outwards, off into the distance where its width appeared like that of a thread.  Numerous farms and pastures existed there, surrounding the city. Further beyond the green lands, the horizon rose into the mountain hills that seperated Galaxia from the dukedom of Hoth.  The small mountains existed almost all the way around Galaxia, giving the appearance the village existed in the nadir of a large bowl, seperated from the rest of the world. "If I give you your land," Bhrode finally spoke, "how exactly would you support me in return?"

"Certainly my order is known for their military prowess, and we could no doubt support any worthy cause that you saw fit to undertake," the major said, "And we also provide services to the local populace, including healing from out herbalists, knowledge from our library, services from our attached priests, and manpower for local building projects.  I think we'd make a good addition to the community."

"You would swear allegance to me, and support me and not simply feed information to your marquess?" Bhrode asked, his head sharply turning from the window to look at Cassius.

"Swearing allegiance might be an issue, since in our charter we're not supposed to do so.  According to the charter, we are to swear fealty to no organization, but rather support, for as long as your organization or fiefdom supports noble causes," he said, "This clause has been helpful in the past, even to the point of allowing for us not to support the church when they have gone astray.  However, I can swear that I would not simply funnel information to Lady Irene, who I serve only as a member of the order, and not as Marquess. You could say that she is of two personnas, two different helmets."

"I see.  And how would you go about your promise, to maintain peace between my peoples?"

"Mostly by protecting the people from bandits and other lawbreakers, and also by providing them with these services, thus improving their lives," he said, looking more young and hopeful than he really was. Sometimes his ideals came forward.

"Uh huh," Bhrode hummed, staring out the window.  He sat there for some time, Cassius could not tell what he was thinking, if he was indeed thinking anything at all.  Finally, he sighed slightly and turned to the knight, "You may have your land in Galaxia.  The servants will take you to Affeeror Scarborough.  He will locate for you four acres and take up your payment."

"Thank you, Count Bhrode," Major Henderson nodded, and bowed, then followed the servents from the room.

Year 816

Visiting his son (Backpost)

The webwitch of the woods
Saladin, Intelligencier to the duke

The woods were different as he trod slowly out to see the witch, she was resting after the midwife helped her deliver the child which he cannot claim, though it was his seed.

He approached slowly, his eyes sweeping for traps as he looked for the witch.

The Webwitch lay in her hut, her newborn son next to her. She had been expecting a daughter, but the Weaver of the Web of Life had other plans. The male infant was quite healthy and had a good strong grip.

She was pleased, even though some fool midwife came blundering into the woods and the spiders had to scare her away. The Webwitch would tolerate no outsiders during the vulnerable time of bearing children, none needed to see her like that.

As it was, her energy was slow in returning, and the birthing blood still flowed, but not as heavy as it had in the beginning. But her little ones did what they could to provide meat for her to make milk for her son. They would harry the deer towards the hut before striking the killing bites.

The Webwitch did rather give silent thanks that none had come asking aid lately, she barely had the strength to rise from her bed to sip broth from her cookpot.

Saladin approached slowly, making sure she was aware of his arrival, "Witch..." He said softly, "I have come to see you."

"Enter.", she called out, her voice not sounding it's usual strength.

He walked in and brought her a bowl of broth. "I Have come to make sure that you were well... I will find that fool of a midwife she was supposed to assist you so would not be so weakened."

"I would not have her here.", the Webwitch said, greatfully taking the broth, "I needed no aid."

"Yet now you are weakned, we all need aid." His voice was gentle as he sat down, to softly wipe her head, "It does not show weakness it shows strength."

"The beasts of the forest need no aid, nor do I.", she said as her son stirred next to her. A tiny lightly browned fist poked out of his swaddling.

He sat down, "This is..." She could see the struggle with his mind, "your son.." His word was kept and would be.

"I had hoped it would be a daughter, but he is everything I wished for.", she said, a bit of strength returning as she parted the swaddling to show a frowning little face with a thatch of dark hair on his crown.

He knelt down, "A handsome child." He felt the paternal urges. "He favors you."

"The scowl is definitely yours.", she said with a soft smile. The infant opened his eyes to look at the stranger and let out a tiny squeak.

A smile crossed his face again as he allowed himself to admire his son.

"Do you wish to hold him?", she asked, "It is near time for his feeding."

"May I?" He asked softly, "My word is my bond, but he is still of me..." He looked at her.

"I would not offer if I did not think you wished it.", she said as she started to sit up more.

He took his son in his arms with surprising tenderness, that few saw, an unconcious rocking motion as he admired the baby.

As the Webwitch rose from her bed to get one of her tonics to help build her strength, her son reached out and grabbed onto Saladin's tabard, holding it with a near deathgrip.

He let him hold on, the baby had a strong name and he rocked the baby slowly as he held on, "Waht is his name?"

"I have not named him yet.", she said, "I figured he would choose his own when it came to him."

He nodded, "Of course."

"It is our way.", she said, explaining further, "We do not share our names as you of the town do."

He nodded, "A secret then..." He could understnd that and he sat down still holding his son. "He is a beautiful child."

"He is perfect.", she said as she drank her tonic and headed over slowly to sit back down on the bed.

He handed her the child, "Yes, he is..."

The Webwitch parted her gown and took her son. The infant immediately started to suckle hungrily. She smiled. "He has quite an appetite."

He chuckled and shifted, "He gets that from both of us I guess."

"If it weren't for my herbs and tonics, he would barely leave me with enough energy to rise to make water in the morning."

"Do you require assistance?"

"No.", she said, "Once my body is recovered from the birth, I will be fine."

"I will stop by to assist, Now let me do some of your chores, rest, feed... your... son..." It was easy in theory to give up rights to a child but to hold this child knowing you would never be recognizied as fater was hard.

"I will get by as I always have.", she said softly as she switched breasts, "You have your duties in the city."

"My duties can wait..." He smield, "Right now I have a duty to you.."

"Must I take a switch to you to make my point?", she asked with a raised eyebrow, "We will be fine on our own."

"I know you will."

She finished feeding her son and checked his diaper. Still good.

"Did you have any need of my services?", she asked, changing the topic before he started again about sticking around to help her.

"I do not, I wished to see you." He sat across from her and stared in to her eyes, "I gave you my word, and I intend to keep it, but I would like permission to make visits, even when your services are not needed."

He sighed, "I liek the company."

"I would not have you risk your life if the inquisitors discover you consorting with me.", she said matter of factly.

"The inquisitors do not concern me." He took her hand in his. "Most of the inquisitors are busy going after prostitutes and winesellers."

"But nothing is better than a witch along with one consorting with the 'evil' I command."

"What evil?" He looked at her, "They do not knwo you exist. I have made sure of that and wil continue to do so."

She sighed softly. "Take care when you do visit.", she said, "I would not have you risk your life for me."

gently he ran his thumb along her knuckles, "I will bring you food and bread tomorrow, In time I will make bigplans..."

A soft smile crossed her lips. "And I will provide what aid I can for those plans."

Gently he caressed her cheek, it was unintentional and his eyes grew soft as he watched her hold his son. "I will keep you informed."

She nodded and her son yawned sleepily. A full belly had that effect. The Webwitch laid back down, curling protectively around her now sleeping son. "Will you be back at the same time?", she asked softly.

"I will vary my times to avoid detection."

"Though never before nightfall."

"Good.", she said, "My waking hours are much different now, so I might be asleep when you do arrive. Wake me when you enter."

"You need your sleep, I will wake you when you wake." He still held her hand, rather then the self assured intelligencer of the duke he acted like a shy boy courting his first maien. Though they had laid together as lovers at this point he was unsure what to do.

"My little ones will know to let you pass.", she said as she yawned, "They have become quite protective of my son."

Gently he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against her forehead.

Her eyes were fluttering closed, but she did smile at his kiss.

He covered her up then kissed his son. Before he left her quarters he placed a small soldier in his son's hand.....

"Finally, a Love Spell Request" -Part, the Second-

Jeremy Savoie, messenger of Count Bhrode
The Webwitch

The last rays of sunlight were disappearing behind the trees as Jeremy Savoie rode up to the forest's edge on his horse. In his hand, he held a pouch containing exactly one ball and a set of twenty jacks. It had taken some doing to find the game, as it was somewhat of a rarity for children in these parts, but he had procured it as promised and returned now to meet up with the witch again.

Dismounting, he walked a little further into the trees, noticing how much more threatening the forest looked and sounded at night. He was glad the witch had turned out to be nothing like the legends had portrayed her; it would have been far more difficult to bring himself to meet her here under those circumstances.

True to her word, the Webwitch was waiting for Jeremy. Soon as he dismounted, she approached him with a small vial. "We meet again, Jeremy, Messenger to Count Bhrode.", she said softly.

"Indeed, Witch of the Wood," he replied. Holding out the small, black pouch, he announced, "I have brought what you requested: a game of ball and jacks. Whatever use you may have of it, I, uh, wish you well," he said, still thinking the witch was perhaps a little touched in the head.

The witch took the pouch. The sound of the jacks could be heard faintly through the fabric and one could easily see her happy glitter in her eyes in the moonlight. Her son would be pleased with this toy and that was her true payment, seeing his smile as he played with them.

She handed the vial to Jeremy. "The vial is small, but the draught within powerful," she said. "One drop warms her to you, two drops-she will be at your side. It can be slipped into any water or wine to work best. Soups or stews dilute it too much."

After five years of agonizing rejection, Jeremy accepted the vial as if it were the most sacred thing in the universe. He looked at the liquid within. It was faintly bluish in color and he wondered how the witch had made it.

"The potion's effects are permanent?" he asked. "I do not think I will be able to find you more games of balls and jacks if I must get more of this to keep Lady Erin's love."

"It will last to the end of her days, whenever that time comes."

"And it will do her no harm," he stated for clarity. The last thing he wanted was to lose the love he had gone to such great lengths to win.

"As long as she does not drink the vial entire, it will do her no harm.", the Webwitch said, "Remember, one drop will warm her to you, two drops she is yours."

The usually grumpy messenger actually smiled. "Finally . . . after five years," he muttered, still staring at the vial, mesmerized. Then he tucked it into his vest pocket.

"Madame witch, you have done me a great service and I will always be grateful to you for it. If ever I can be of assistance to you, please let me know."

The Webwitch was silent, and melted back in the brush.

With that, Jeremy returned to his horse and rode off to the castle to win his love's heart.

Yr 818

Fleeing

Saladin, Fugative... Web witch of the woods

Running in the woods, Saladin was running for his life, or waht was left of his life. He was bleeding from several arrows and a sword through his shoudler.

He had set it up perfectly, he was ready to attack the duke but instead he got found out, one of his inteligencers had been captured and spoke, they came for him.

He fell foreward near the witches cabin. His breathing was ragged.

The Webwitch was walking with her son in the woods, showing him what was safe and unsafe. The toddler was quickly learning and his eager smile warmed the witch's heart like nothing else.

It was the spiders that warned them of trouble, jumping from the trees and moving threateningly towards the noise. The toddler moved faster than she and blinked as he recognized the bloody man. "Wobby!", he called out, his own version of 'Webwitch' and 'Mommy'.

She hurried along and quickly told the toddler to head inside the hut. Biting her lip, she dragged Saladin inside and whistled to the spiders to attack any who came near.

He was delerious from the pain, not sure what he was talking about, his voice was coming in gasps as a trickle of blood came from his mouth.

The Webwitch commanded the spiders inside the hut to start spinning on Saladin's wounds. The webbing would staunch the bloodflow enough for now. Both she and her son headed for her herb shelves and she had him grinding away as she worked on what Saladin needed for his pain and shock.

Time passed and he rested comfortably, the herbs helped and he lifted his head to look at her, "Witch..."

"Don't speak.", she said as she checked the bleeding from his wounds, "Save your strength."

"T..thank you."

"Stubborn man.", she said with a hint of tenderness in her voice, "Sleep now and let your body heal."

He laid back and dozed. It woudl take time for his body to heal...

=3 days later= patrickb01: He woke from the deepest of sleep and looked around the cabin. Where was he, why was he here. His mind cried out to him and he tried to jump up.

"Wobby said you need to lay down.", the toddler said as he sat up more on the tiny stool near the bed. The Webwitch had gone out to get some silver moss to replenish her stocks. It was good for promoting circulation.

He looked at the child, "Where is she?"

"Wobby had to go get more moss. You used up all of hers.", the toddler said, trying to look stern so Saladin would be intimidated and stay in bed.

IT wasn't the stern toddler that did it but instead it was the fact that he got dizzy caused him to lay back down.

"Stubborn fool.", came the voice from the doorway as the Webwitch entered with a pouchfull of moss. The toddler's face brightened as his mother came in and he hurried over to her herb shelves to get the jar she kept the moss in.

"You are supposed to be resting.", she said as she started to check Saladin's wounds.

"I can not go back in to town ever again."

"What happened?", she asked.

"A plan was discovered I had guards ready to attack the duke, to take power for myslef, but they got discovered, I left ahead of the headsman's axe."

"I'm suprised.", she said matter of factly, "You plan things out so thorougly."

"I didn't count on some guard doing his job so throughly." He looked at her and sighed. "He discovered what I had missed."

"You are safe for now.", she said, "You will stay here until you heal properly."

He looked at her, "I cannot repay you."

"You paid me already with my son."

"When I am healed I will go in to the woods."

"I can help you find a shelter when that time comes."

"I thiank you." He exhaled softly and laid back.

"As it is, you reopened some of your wounds.", she said with a disapproving click of the tongue, "You will be staying here for a while."

He laid back and let her tend to his wounds, "Your son has grown strong."

"He learns quick.", she said proudly, "And he has done well keeping watch over you."

"How long have I been here?"

"Three days so far."

"It will take more time for me to heal..."

"And more yet if you keep being stubborn."

He looked at her and sighed. "You are correct."

"So lie down and keep still so you do heal."

"I wish to assist where i can."

Yr 818

Recovery continues

Saladin
The Webwitch of the woods.

The Webwitch returned to her hut after gathering some bark from the forest only to see her houseguest had gone. She set her bark down quickly and headed to look where he'd walked to.

Saladin had begun slowly walking down to the pond. The makeshift cane he walked with was shaking as sweat poured off his body as he pushed his endurance. He had to get strong.. to get his life back...

Then the cane slipped and he fell on his right hip.

"Stubborn fool.", the Webwitch said as she sighed and went to help Saladin up, "If you overstrain yourself you'll weaken yourself permanently."

He looked at her, "I need to get my strength back, I have been a burden on you and your son for too long."

"And you will be with us longer if you make yourself worse."

He looked at her and then smiled softly, "Tha