Baerst ran to the small armory in the center of the village. Six men were sitting on stools eating bread. Baerst told them of the chief's orders. The lot of them all grabbed spears from the walls, Baerst just now remembering he left his in the woods.
The men walked towards the gate to town, Baerst's mind was uneasy. He worried about the fate of the boys on their trials.
Media is not making me steal. But in a way is like the story of the very hot girl with the short skirt teasing the old sick guy with a history of rape.
One of the men threw Baerst a spear. "You will need it," he said, a grim omen.
Then Baerst began to hear the footsteps in the woods approaching, men shouting, the thuds of staffs on the ground as they walked.
Just as they were emerging from the forest, Harloge and his closests gaurds met up with Baerst and the spearmen. The villagers either hid in their homes, or curiously stood far away, eager to watch.
"Now let us see who comes," Harloge said. "If he be outfolk, take his head."
Media is not making me steal. But in a way is like the story of the very hot girl with the short skirt teasing the old sick guy with a history of rape.
"Back down, peasant!" The leader of the men shouted. His voice was young, yet deep. "I have come to reclaim my rightful place and again bring Rathiryn to the glory of Slaol, and he alone!"
Harloge stepped forward, his face set in both bewilderment and defiance. "You are dead to us!" He said. "Return to the Netherworld, Rorda!"
Baerst's knowledge of Rorda was minimal, comprised almost entirely of tales he had heard.
Baerst remained standing behind his chief. He leaned over and told the man next to him: "If we fight, watch for a child. He is ours, we cannot bring harm to him."
Media is not making me steal. But in a way is like the story of the very hot girl with the short skirt teasing the old sick guy with a history of rape.
The man nodded his acknowledgement, but kept his eyes pinned on Rorda, his face set in a determined scowl.
Rorda laughed. "But Father, I've brought with me an army, one such as you refused to uphold with wishes of petty peace! Peace does not come through worship of the woman god, Lahanna!" He turned his head and spat. "You will not defy me!"
Harloge stomped his spear on the ground; an omen of war. "Our priest Camantu has declared you dead to this village. If you refuse, you and your outlandish scum will suffer." He clapped one hand on the side of his spear, a sign for his gaurds and spearmen to prepare for attack.
Everyone in the village knew a fight was about to break out. Baerst clutched his spear tight and took a stance about to sprint. We have no problems with these outsiders, they came for trouble. So we will let them make the first move." Baerst thought.
Media is not making me steal. But in a way is like the story of the very hot girl with the short skirt teasing the old sick guy with a history of rape.
"Suffer indeed, though not on our flesh," Rorda said. He looked to the men on either side of him and nodded. "Reclaim my throne!"
It happened fast. Rorda's men came running out at them from the sides, and the fight began. It took a mere second for Baerst to find his opponent - a short, husky man with a jagged spear.
Media is not making me steal. But in a way is like the story of the very hot girl with the short skirt teasing the old sick guy with a history of rape.
The man held his spear horizontally and and ducked to push the shaft of his spear into Baerst's, pushing it up over the man's head. From this position, the man swung his spear up to the right to slash at Baerst.
Private Mod Note
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Miss Salvation
Formerly Tangerine Tulip
Souls owned
(TF) Despyhurs . Oasis . Moxman
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The men walked towards the gate to town, Baerst's mind was uneasy. He worried about the fate of the boys on their trials.
Then Baerst began to hear the footsteps in the woods approaching, men shouting, the thuds of staffs on the ground as they walked.
Just as they were emerging from the forest, Harloge and his closests gaurds met up with Baerst and the spearmen. The villagers either hid in their homes, or curiously stood far away, eager to watch.
"Now let us see who comes," Harloge said. "If he be outfolk, take his head."
"WHO GOES THERE?" Baerst demanded in a defiant tone.
Harloge stepped forward, his face set in both bewilderment and defiance. "You are dead to us!" He said. "Return to the Netherworld, Rorda!"
Baerst remained standing behind his chief. He leaned over and told the man next to him: "If we fight, watch for a child. He is ours, we cannot bring harm to him."
Rorda laughed. "But Father, I've brought with me an army, one such as you refused to uphold with wishes of petty peace! Peace does not come through worship of the woman god, Lahanna!" He turned his head and spat. "You will not defy me!"
Harloge stomped his spear on the ground; an omen of war. "Our priest Camantu has declared you dead to this village. If you refuse, you and your outlandish scum will suffer." He clapped one hand on the side of his spear, a sign for his gaurds and spearmen to prepare for attack.
It happened fast. Rorda's men came running out at them from the sides, and the fight began. It took a mere second for Baerst to find his opponent - a short, husky man with a jagged spear.