Ain't Nothin' (M)

[Valtxr]

   Alan and Elan always got the job done. Except for all the times they fucked up. Hey, but if you didn't count those times, then they always got the job done.
   Ah, whatever. How important could the job be if Master Laython sent them on it. Sure, sure, he sent them and eighteen men and four wagons and a passenger carriage and enough guns and swords to get into some real shit. But, really. Really. How important could it be? Go here. Get that. Come back.
   Easy.
   Alan rode in the lead wagon, his little sister sitting next to him as he sat in the driver's seat and held the reins. She hummed a tune as the wagon bounced along the rough road. A knife in one hand, a small piece of wood in the other, and a sing-song smile on her face. Despite all them bumps, she whittled away, carefully carving little strips from the wood.
   Alan had no idea how she did it. How she could be so good at...stuff. You know. Like making stuff. And fixing stuff. Ain't got no damn idea. But she was. She could take apart and reassemble both their pistols lickety-split like. And good on her, 'cause Alan had no fuckin' clue.
   He just liked to shoot people. In the face.
   Sure, sure, Elan couldn't hit a horse's ass if she jammed her pistol up its butthole, but she could always toss her gun to Alan if they got into a real scrap. Two shots from him meant two dead mugs. And that was plenty good.
   The convoy of wagons got a good view once it reached the crest of a ridge. The Kilanthro Mountains. And there it was, far off in the distance. The big gap, with gray clouds collecting around the mountains on either side. Blackbane Pass. Sirantil Valley and home just through there.

* * * * *

   The convoy made it into the pass before sundown. The mountains to the east and west towering over the sparse evergreen trees that surrounded them.
   The men circled the wagons and made camp. Some built the fire pit, some stood watch, some went to collect firewood, and some guarded the carriage.
   Alan and Elan sat next to each other by the large fire as the night and the cold came. A light snow fell, but it wasn't cold enough to gather on the ground and in the trees.
   Elan couldn't help but glance with curiosity toward the carriage. Toward the four men who stood by its doors. She'd been doing that ever since they reached the contact in Arca. Alan was the one who picked up the items from the contact, so he had gotten a look at them before he put them both in a pouch and locked the pouch in a chest.
   Master Laython had some runeheads in Arca make a weird thing for him. Alan had no fuckin' idea. Some kinda small, glossy, red ball thing with a spike on it. Tiny little thing. What the fuck good could it be? Came with a smooth stone that had a red rune on it. Ah, whatever. Too bad Gizmo didn't get a look at it. She'd probably be able to figure it out.
   Elan kept whittling. The concentration on her face illuminated orange by the fire. Looked to be taking shape. A head. An arm. A person.
   She glanced toward the carriage again. Ah shit, she was gonna ask. And Alan was gonna fuck up his description. He knew it.
   "So what's in the chest?" Elan said.
   Here goes nothin'. "Some little piece of shit ball-ass lookin' thing. Came with a rock someone painted a swirly-do on."
   Hey, how 'bout that. Nailed it.
   Elan raised an eyebrow. "What?"
   Ah, shit.
   "You know I don't know what the hell I'm talkin' about."
   "Can I take a look at it?"
   "No can do, Gizmo."
   "Aw. Please?"
   "Nope. Orders from the boss man. Gotta keep that thing locked up tight."
   "I wonder what it does..."
   "Hey, I'll tell ya what it don't do."
   "What's that?"
   "Oh I'll tell ya alright."
   "...Can you tell me?"
   "Don't worry, you 'bout to get told."
   Elan stared at Alan.
   Alan stared back.
   She grinned. "You're stupid."
   "I ain't stupid. I'm just dumb." He clapped his hand on her back as she laughed.
   The campfire crackled. Alan and Elan sat before it with a few of the men, scooting a bit closer for the warmth. The four men by the carriage and the four on watch peered out past the glow of the fire, into the darkness of the night. Kept their rifles at the low ready. Watched for movement.

[Wrathwyrm]

The convoy had been taking a kind of evasive course to make sure it didn't get alot of attention.  Nevertheless, it had, and when those guards were staring deep into the darkness...it was staring back.

Well, strictly speaking, it was looking down upon them.  This is a mountain pass, so there's bound to be some mountain about, and up in the darker rocky recesses, he watched.  The thing is, despite all of their care and security, they couldn't hide their magic bauble from him.  Him who?  Mr. Gary Blight, champion of thieves and hero of the Goblin people, that's who.  Gary was of the dark-skinned variety of goblin, pointy-eared and bald of head.  He was between 4 and 5 feet tall, which could easily have him mistaken for a small man, if he were in disguise, but it was a fact that he was in black, quite alot of black.

Gary traveled light, since speed and agility were his strengths more than strength.  Tough leather armor, hiking boots, a fine black cape, gloves, and a mask were of his attire...for he was not only a thief, highwayman, robber, and trickster...but also something of a traditionalist.  The truth was...he didn't really need the mask, since he was either unrecognizable because he was a goblin like most other goblins, or SO recognizable that it wouldn't matter.  It was just a matter of fact that he liked the big domino mask look.  He now looked down at them with a spyglass, seeing them all and the emissions of the bauble in the chest with ease.

There are beings in the world who see heat, and that is called thermographic vision.  Gary had what he called Blight Sight, but would be accurately referred to as a thaumographic vision.  He saw magic and auras.  If you have a soul or you're an animated corpse, if you're an angel or a devil, if you have magic or you're mundane - he can see you, and he can see just how warped and twisted your aura might be.  As a goblin, however, he could also see in the dark rather well, which means that he not only saw the guards, but he also saw...

Guns.  I've considered getting some of those.  Maybe later.

Nearby was someone else who could see in the dark: A large spider.  The creature was Gary's loyal stead, Concord, who supported him in his ventures.  They had been following this convoy for some time, and Gary had been contemplating on how to catch the prize.  He'd considered setting up some nice big spider web nets for them all and doing the usual 'Stand And Deliver!' line once they were caught, but twenty men with guns was a hard sell for that option.  No no no, this required a bit more finesse.  So, after discussing the plan with his trusty giant spider, Gary snuck down quietly into the pass proper where, after preparing his blow gun, he would begin to fire darts tipped with a sedative that would cause gradual drowsiness that would lead to sleep.  It was a subtle sedative, rather than a heavy knock-out drug, so as not to cause any great alarm...yet.  He started with horses before the backs of people at the campfire.

Cut off their escape first, THEN whittle them down.

[Valtxr]

   No one noticed the horses falling asleep, since they still stood and merely closed their eyes.

   "Ow," Elan said.
   Alan glanced at her. "What's up?"
   "I think something bit me."
   "Probably just one of them little flyin' stabby blood bug things."
   "A mosquito."
   "A mos-better-shut-the-fuck-up-and-not-bite-ol'-Alan-Marky Marc-Buckley-quito. Yeah. Sounds 'bout right."
   Elan swatted at the air. Her eyes tracking what she thought were bugs. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren't. She clapped her hands sharply above her head. Brought them back down and opened them up. And wouldn't you know it. A small, dead bug on her palm.
   "Hey, look, I got one."
   Alan grinned. Mock glared down at the dead bug. "Yeah, that's right, bitch. And you better tell your friends that Gizmo and Marky Marc don't take shit off of no—"
   Something bit Alan on his back. He smacked his hand vaguely at the spot.
   "Ah, shit, they got me too. I ever tell you how much I fuckin' nature?"
   "Only everytime we travel."
   "Well, let me tell you again. And you best buckle up, little miss Buckley buttercup, 'cause I'm pissed off at that ol' bitch Mother Nature this time 'round..."
   Elan giggled. "But you're always pissed off at Mother Nature."
   "Ah, that's just 'cause the ol' bitch ain't listened to me the first time 'round like she shoulda, I dunno whattha fuck to tell ya. Now, where was I..."

   The drowiness was settling in. The night weighing heavily on Alan and Elan's eyelids. The other men around the fire had already settled down and went to sleep. As did the others not on watch or carriage guard duty.
   Elan yawned. "Hey, Alan."
   Alan yawned too. "Ah, sis, you gotta cut that out. Shit's contagious."
   Elan put down her knife and the half-finished wooden sculpture. She couldn't concentrate anymore. "Can you go fetch our bedrolls? I'm beat."
   "Alright then. Guess we can catch a little shut-eye before it's our turn for watch."
   Alan stood, and only then did he really notice how tired he actually was. He stumbled over like a drunken man to one of the wagons and pulled out two bedrolls and stumbled back over to the fire and tossed one to Elan.
   "Heads up, Gizmo."
   It hit her in the face. Fell to the ground.
   "Ah! I wasn't ready."
   "Hey, you see that shit there? I always hit my mark. Even when I'm just fuckin' around. Damn, I'm good."
   Elan woozily opened and laid out her bedroll. As did Alan with his.
   And she crawled into it. The heat of the fire keeping her warm.
   "Night," she said.
   "Hey, sleep tight, Gizmo," Alan said as he crawled into his own bedroll.
   Closed his eyes.
   And fell right to sleep.

[Wrathwyrm]

Actually, it's a funny story about horses.  They don't sleep standing up if it's a prolonged sleep, only short naps.  Not that any of this mattered OR that anybody was really paying attention, but Gary could judge the time it took for actual sleep to set in, thanks to the time it took for the horses to actually go for a lie-down, which they would be able to because it wasn't a heavy drug.  It seemed that the gunmen left on duty had found none of this strange.  Good, good...  Now, came the somewhat more-tricky part.  He had four more men to do, but with their duty assignments and their attentive behavior, he had to use the actual heavy knock-out narcotic.  Oh, I know what you're thinking.  'Why not just kill them, if you're so good with those blowdarts, Gary?'.  Well, the reason was actually that that's just what he had on hand, right now.  He didn't have the actual poisons on him.  You see, his numerous underground hovels and dropsites contained different supplies, so some days he'll just have more poison than knock-out material, and sometimes it'll be paralysis-inducing stuff or psychadelics or deadly nightshade.

Such is life.  You work with what you've got.

So saying, the rest of the plan now required him to take out these four men with heavy knock-out drugs.  They were guarding the carriage doors that surrounded the bauble.  Well, he wouldn't be aiming for necks there.  First, he crept into position in the dark, and then aimed for faces.  He moved quickly at this point, trying not to be ultimately noisey, but at this point speed was key, and so he did not care as much.  The guards needed to be darted before they had a hope in firing back.  Regardless of the side-effect, once Gary was sure that he'd gotten them, all stealth was abandoned as he leapt for reins and the harnesses keeping the horses attached to the carriage.  Slicing through them with Bitterfang, called out into the night.

"Come, Concord!!"

If any one under the effects of the lighter rug happened to be thrown awake suddenly by any of the commotion - especially Gary calling out to his steed - they would find a squat figure on the carriage and a large frigging spider hopping down from mountain area.  Corncord would fire a sticky blast of web from her abdomen at the carriage and then just start running, the carriage rolling its way back the way the convoy had come!

[Valtxr]

   "I fuckin' hate guard duty," said one of the men by the carriage.
   "Two more hours, man. Suck it up," said the man next to him.
   "Shit reminds me of the army. I didn't risk my neck deserting just to be put back on this bullshit."
   "Don't be such a big baby. At least we got first shift this time."
   "Fair point. I'm gonna sleep so fuckin' hard after—"
   A dart slammed into his face. And his body went numb. He collapsed to the ground, his rifle falling from his hands.
   "What the fuck?"
   Another dart hit the second man. He winced, and his finger flinched on the trigger of his weapon. It fired into the ground, kicking up a small plume of dirt, and the man collapsed.
   "Hey! Danny boy! What the hell's going on?" said one of the men from the other side of the carriage.
   He and his companion both rounded the carriage, and both caught darts to the face. The drug bringing them down to the grass just as it had with the others.

   The gunshot stirred Alan from his sleep.
   "Whattha fuck, I'll punch a bitch..." he said a bit of saliva ran down his lips and chin.
   He glanced around, his vision hazy on the cocktail of recently parted dreams and the night's darkness. He squinted. Thought he had heard something. Almost positive it was a gunshot. Maybe one of the boys tagged a big fat elk for lunch tomorrow.
   He closed his eyes again, nuzzling his head back into the soft bedroll.
   Then he heard something else.
   "Come, Concord!!"
   Alan opened his eyes. Glanced back toward the carriage, where the voice had come from.
   He squinted again. No way this was real.
   Was that a...big ass spider? Coming this way? Aw, ain't this a bitch, Mother Nature heard him talkin' shit and decided to give him what for.
   It fired a big web on the carriage and started...running away with it. Oh thank fuck. Alan didn't want to die to no big ass spider.
   Hey. There was a guy. On the carriage. Hard to see. But short-like.
   Alright. No way this was real. Whoever heard of spiders that big anyway? Those were just in made-up hocus pocus stories to scare little kids. He really needed to lay off of the Crystal Vane. Too much of that shit wasn't good for no-damn-body.
   Alan rolled over. Closed his eyes. And slipped right back to sleep.

   The entire camp was quiet. And missing the carriage.
   With no one to watch it, the campfire crackled and shrank, its light retreating under the steady push of the surrounding darkness.

[Wrathwyrm]

Meanwhile, the goblin and the big spider were in high spirits.  The carriage bustled along as Concord ran along at approximately gallop speed.  She could go faster, but it would have the cart thumping her abdomen regularly, which was annoying.  Gary still stood atop the carriage, enjoying himself a merry laugh.

"Hah hah!  Another triumph!  Take that, humanity!  Keep going, for now!  I'll break in on the go, just in case!"

"Hurkle!"

"How should I know?  I don't need a carriage, and neither do my brethren!  Maybe we'll sell it!"

Of course, there would be some slight damages to the door, as he used Bitterfang to ruin any sort of locking mechanism there might've been.  Same would go for the straps holding the chest to the floor and chest's lock after he flipped his way in.  Oh, Gary could certainly pick locks, but it was ultimately quicker to use the enchanted acid blade to melt through things.  Now, to open up and-

THUMP!

"Agh!"

They hit a bump on the road and the chest hit him in the face.

"Steady, girl!  Steady!  Ow..."

He opened up and behold...  There it was.  Such a strange sort of bauble, yes...  A small red stone with a spike in it and a runed stone?  He wondered just what it was for...  No matter.  He put the articles in a little pouch and placed it in a larger sack with anything else of value that happened to be about in here.  No blades without sheaths.  That ruins a good bag.  Having completed this task, he bade his stead to halt, and braced himself for the inevitable thump of the wagon against her backside, which was followed by a complainative "Urgle!".  Concord didn't like slaps to the posterior.  Gary stepped out and evaluated their position as he patted the head area of his spider.

"I know, I know.  You don't like dragging carriages.  But we did well, and now...hmmm.  You know what?  Let's just be rid of this thing.  We're on a hill, so just cut it loose and we'll be off."

He wondered just who had it in their minds to bring some sort of enchanted thingy into Connlaoth in the first place, and why.  Gary was technically from there, and he knew what passed for law in that area.  Some hypocrite noble or rebel against the state?  Maybe.  It really didn't matter.  It was his, for now, and soon the property of Goblinkind.  Gary worked on determining where the nearest hole in the ground serving as a hiding place was now...  Hopefully, anyone hoping to recover their carriage would keep following it down the hill while he went off the beaten path.

[Valtxr]

   The first light of dawn through the trees and the mountains. A morning fog in Blackbane pass. A light snow still falling.

   Alan shuddered violently. Looked around as if in a panic.
   Ah, shit. Morning already? He overslept like a bitch. Or those clowns on watch forgot to wake his ass up. He was all fine with Gizmo getting a little extra shut eye, but Alan actually wanted to have his turn at watch. Never knew when some scrub-ass highwaymen needed to catch some shot in the face, and Alan was the man for the job.
   He crawled out of his bedroll and stood up and stretched toward the sky and yawned with a big yawn with a wide open mouth and rubbed his chin and took a good look around the camp.
   Everybody was asleep. Everybody.
   And the carriage was gone. The two horses that were attached to it sleeping in the grass.
   "Awww...man...you gotta be shittin' me."
   Alan ran over to the spot where the carriage used to be, as if his haste made any difference. He clamped his hands on his head and ran them down the sides of his face. Fuck. Fuck! Master Laython was gonna be pissed. Beatings all 'round for everybody on the job for allowing this to happen. Shit, and Alan didn't like seeing Gizmo get roughed up. Especially for something that really wasn't her fault.
   "Hey! Everybody! Wake your asses up!"
   Some of the men stirred. Groaned. Moved a little.
   Alan grabbed one of the former carriage guard's rifles. Tried to fire it. Wasn't loaded. Had already been fired. He threw it to the ground and grabbed another rifle. Fired it into the air.
   The BOOM from the firearm was defeaning in the quiet, foggy morning. The sharp crack of the shot echoing about the mountains to either side of the pass.
   That got 'em moving. Gizmo included.
   Elan threw her arms about and flopped out of her bedroll, crawling quickly and frantically behind the meager rocks of the firepit for half-assed cover. "Ah! Are we under attack? What's going on?" she called out.
   Then Alan yelled out to the men of the camp, now that they were awake and he had their attention. "Hey! Dumbasses! Someone stole the fuckin' carriage! Spread out and find it or we're all fucked!"
   As the men did what was bidden with all the grogginess and stupor of waking too early, two of the former carriage guards spoke to each other.
   "Hey, Danny boy, what's that on your face, man?"
   "Uh? Lenny? Hate to tell you this, but you got somethin' on yours too. Wait...is that a fuckin' dart?"

* * * * *

   Alan didn't think they'd actually find the damn thing. But find it they did.
   It didn't take too long for the group of men who had searched back the way they had come to stumble across the carriage. Off the road, they said. Crashed against a tree, as if it had rolled back down the nearby hill. Busted wheel.
   So Alan rounded up all the other men. Grabbed a spare wheel from one of the wagons, and Gizmo grabbed a toolbag, a big smile on her face as she did. And they started back down the road they had come yesterday. Most of the men followed them, rifles in hand. Six were left to pack up the camp and bring the four wagons and two loose horses to the crashed carriage when they were done.
   Alan trudged along, carrying the spare wheel. Held it in behind him with both hands, balancing it on his back, leaning forward some. Fuckin' thing sure was heavy enough.
   Elan hummed another tune as they walked down the road. A delightful skip in her step. She actually got to fix something today.
   She glanced to Alan and asked, "What do you think happened?"
   Alan tried to shrug. "I dunno. But I had some dumb dream 'bout what happened."
   "Well, let's hear it. Better than nothing."
   "Alright, check this out. A midget and his big-ass spider stole the carriage. The midget was all like 'Heigh-ho, Concord!' or some shit. And that's really all I remember."
   Gizmo's face lit up. "Are you kidding me?"
   "Nah, nah, I ain't kiddin' you, I just have fucked up dreams sometimes."
   "No, no, no, I didn't mean that literally. I just..." She mumbled something to herself. Practiced. Then when she was sure, she said it again—sung it—so Alan could hear, "Gary Blight, Gary Blight, Riding through the night...!"
   A couple of the men behind her laughed.
   Alan narrowed his eyes. "Who the fuck is Gary Blight?"
   Gizmo looked a bit disappointed. "You haven't heard that song?"
   "Nope."
   "It comes up almost everytime we're at a tavern and there's some bards or merry men there. You know, like Max Vicious or The Young Maiden Lost at Sea."
   "Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout."
   "He rides a spider. Like in your dream."
   "Who the fuck rides a spider?"
   "Goblins do, apparently."
   "Yo, this Gary Blight chump is supposed to be a goblin?"
   "Yeah."
   "That's bullshit. I ain't never seen no goblin before. Therefore, they don't exist. Trust me, I know what I'm talkin' 'bout."
   Gizmo shrugged. "I'm just saying. I mean, we all woke up with darts in us. And somebody had to do this."
   One of the men behind her: "That fuckin' asshole nailed me in the face with one."
   Alan clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Nah. I don't buy it. One little nobody didn't do this shit. Had to be a group of pro thieves or somethin' come get the jump on us like that. One of them guild-type deals. Probably got it out for the boss man on some account."
   Gizmo shrugged again. "Just saying..."

   The crashed carriage slowly emerged through the morning fog. It rested down in a small ditch at an angle, up against a large tree, the back right wheel broken in two and the carriage leaning a bit toward that end.
   "Well, fuck me," Alan said when he saw it.
   Elan approached the wagon. Her left hand stroking her chin.
   "Hey, Alan," said one of the men who moved to the open door of the carriage, "look at this."
   Alan set down the spare wheel and rolled it toward the carriage, keeping his hands on it. Said to the man without coming over. "Wha'do'ya got?"
   "The lock on the door...someone melted it."
   "And the chest?"
   "Same deal. Melted lock. Shipment's gone, man."
   "Fuckin' figures."
   Elan hopped down into the ditch and approached the broken wheel of the carriage. "Alright," she called out. "Most of the weight is on the broken wheel, so I'm gonna need you fellas to help me out and hold up the carriage while I change it."
   Some grumbling among the men:
   "Shit, we didn't bring a jack?"
   "We brought spare wheels but no jack?"
   "Hey, who the fuck forgot the goddamn jack?"
   Alan had to lock that shit up. Raised his voice and called out, "Hey! You heard the lady! Pick a fuckin' spot and get ready to lift this big bitch."
   Alan laid the wheel down next to Gizmo and, along with the twelve other men, grabbed hold of the bottom of the carriage and braced himself and prepared to lift.
   Elan pulled a simple wrench out from the toolbag. Gave a quick nod to Alan.
   Alan said, "Alright, boys. One...Two...Three!"
   And Gizmo got to work. She gave the large metal nut holding the shattered remains of the broken wheel a few quick turns. Spun it the rest of the way off with her hand. Grabbed and pulled the broken wheel from the axle and tossed it to the side with the other broken piece of it in the ditch. The spare wheel was identical to the old one; it had its own boxing, so no need to hammer out the one in the broken wheel. She reached back into the toolbag and pulled out a jar of grease. Applied some to the axle. Put the jar back in the bag. Lifted the spare wheel and slid it cleanly onto the axle. Replaced the metal nut and wrenched it securely in place.
   All done. Not all that complicated or engaging, but something. So she smiled anyway.
   And the men lowered the carriage.

   The morning fog about them as Alan and Elan and the men waited for the rest of the convoy to come back. The peace and serenity of the mountain pass as they waited to finish the journey to Reajh. The fresh air they breathed as they dreaded telling Elliot Laython about their failure.

[Wrathwyrm]

The real shame was that this was rocky terrain, and therefore wouldn't leave any footprints.  Granted that Gary would've been intelligent enough to either cover up or random-walk such things, but a mountain pass wouldn't even show Concord's many feet upon the ground.  Oh well...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It had been a pleasant night's sleep for the two of them.  Truly, they were nocturnal creatures at heart, but Gary and Concord had learned to operate at any hourse they chose to be.  That said, the night's work was slept off in one of their hiding places.  Most of these spots were literally holes dug in the ground to create tunnels, with a board covered with top soil, leaves, and brickabrack cap the thing and keep it beyond suspicion.  However, when you're talking about a mountainous area, you can really only do one of two things: Dig into solid rock or find a place that's already there.  It would take days to actually carve out a spot for him and Concord, plus storage for certain essentials, so the most he did was modify an existing cave.

The cave always had wolves or a mountain lion or something living in it when they got there.  That's why Gary never kept any food there.  Wine, perhaps, but never food.  It would just get eaten.  At least in those cases, he didn't have to feed Concord.  She would eat whatever was in the cave.  So, with that, the bloodthirsty spider had a late-night meal and Gary had some wine, curiously looking over the strange little magic device.  It looked like it was suppose to jab into something.  Flesh?  Maybe.  He'd spent maybe an hour wondering on that.  He didn't dare try it on himself or his stead.  It was in the morning that a brainflash came to him.

"Say, Concord...  Let's see about finding us an animal to poke with this thing, hmm?"

"Rrgle?"

"Yes, you can eat it when we're done."

And so, they would go out.  This had started in a high-up hillpoint that was more animal-accessable than human, but they would be in more-accessable territory soon enough.  Gary was mindful that the people from last night could be around, but having rested and his stead had a late-night repast, they should be quite fine.  Now, where's a mountain wolf to poke with this thing when he needed one?

[Valtxr]

   The rest of the convoy emerged through the fading fog, not long after the wheel was fixed. Alan and the men pushed the carriage up and out of the ditch and back onto the dirt road. It was only then did they realize that the reins of the carriage were ruined. Elan hopped into one of the wagons and rooted around for some spares—the only two they had. She detached the old reins from the carriage and started installing the new ones.
   "So, what's the deal, Alan?" said one of the men as Elan worked. "We just leave? That's it?"
   "Yup. That's about fuckin' it," Alan said.
   Elan glanced up from her work, her hands still busy. "Can't we just go back to Arca? Get a new one of those things?"
   "No can do, Gizmo. Ain't gonna happen without more coin from the boss man. Which we don't have on us."
   "Jeez," she said, focusing back down on attaching the reins and straps to the carriage, "how much could one of those things possibly cost?"
   "Hell if I know."
   "This is bullshit," said the man from earlier. "We get robbed blind in the night, didn't even get to fire a shot at the bastards, and now we're all gonna get the shit beaten out of us? This fuckin' job, man."
   "Hey, hey, relax," Alan said. "I got this under control. We'll get back to Reajh, maybe have a few drinks or some shit, go tell the boss man what happened, and take our licks. Rough stuff, but it comes with the territory. But don't worry. The boss man'll give me the coin to get another one of those things, or he'll hire a professional tracker for us, or some kinda shit like that. It'll work out, trust me. So just keep your cool, Marky Marc's got this in the bag. You hear that shit?"
   "Sure" said the man. "Whatever you say."
   And he walked off and hopped back into one of the wagons.
   Elan finished installing the new reins and strapping the horses in.
   And she smiled at Alan. "It'll all work out."
   He smiled back. "Glad somebody trusts me 'round here."

   And the convoy started off again, toward and through Blackbane pass. It would be days before they would reach Reajh.
   Days gone by far too quickly.

[Wrathwyrm]

"Oh, I see.  I see..."

It had taken a while.  First, they had to find something to work with, and lacking any wolves...the teo of them had caught a mountain goat.  Then, after tying it up, Gary had begun to experiment.  At first, he just poked it in random places, but sadly...you can't expect something to work unless you know HOW it works.  Still, what he knew right then was that the bauble alone didn't seem to do anything.  It was only after jabbing the spiked device into the soft spot of the goat's head - behind the ear - that Gary came upon the answer, or an answer.  He'd grown irritated with the goat's bleating and shouted "OH, STOP IT!!" while holding the runestone.  The goat stopped making a fuss!  It wasn't making a sound!  It didn't stop breathing, so this must've been a means of command and control that was clever, sensing the true intent of the user.

"You understand, right, Concord?"

"Uh-uh."

"Ah, well it's like this...  This is mind control.  Stab this into someone and command him with the runestone.  It senses the fullness of your desire, like when I wanted the goat to shut the hell up.  It's very good.  And very...interesting.  I wonder..."

"Hrrkrr?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering what target they had in mind..."

He turned to his steed with a very toothy grin.

"Let's go follow those people back to Connlaoth, Concord!  I haven't been there since we crashed that party with the lich and the looney elf!"

They were off!  Once the two of them had picked up the scent, they would take to the highground that Concord alone would find reachable to follow!

[Valtxr]

(((Continued in No Better Men)))