Send a spelling or grammar correction to: Tracy Johnson
This is a first draft of a story set in the world of Greyhawk.
It is based on a home campaign so some of the people, places and things
may be different. Any helpful comments or suggestions are very welcome.
Thanks
Jason Zavoda
"We can slow down now!" Dinet yelled to Kassar, the old nomad
just laughed at him. "The wolves are gone!" Dinet yelled again.
"Hah, ya not see em, but they ain't gone!" Kassar yelled back
above the thunder of the hooves.
The trail became a well traveled road, it passed through a
crossroad and began a gradual slope downward, the camp was near. Kassar
called to Moroedd and the stallion slowed their pace, but it was still
too much for the sore and strained Dinet after their jarring ride.
Suddenly they were past the trees and the camp lay below them, a
fields of tents and wagons brightly lit. Off to the north lay the soldiers
camp where the armies from Gran March were bivouacked, hundreds of small
campfires burned, their light twinkling in the distance.
Kassar began to whoop and holler as he raced down the road. A pair
of bored and rough looking guardsmen ran out from a wagon set across the
road. Kassar took his horse along the verge and up alongside the pair.
"Kassar." one of the guardsmen said, his voice relieved. "Are you
drunk? You scared the ale out of me you old devil."
"Not drunk Welf, betcha you sleepen, eh Welf." Kassar chided back.
"Then what are you hollerin for, and what the hells are you doing
out of camp in the first place." Welf asked. The mercenary guardsmen was a
big man, he carried a well cared for halberd in a ham like fist, behind
him stood a shorter guard, this one armored in chain and helm of
steel. She held a loaded crossbow still pointed at Kassar, the nomad
ignored it, but knew where the bolt was aimed.
"Yer lucky I was out, trouble comin, only saw them fer a second,
but big wolves, look like wargs," Kassar told them, "these lands, see
wolf ya see goblin."
"Headed this way?" Welf asked with some alarm.
"You betcha, outrode em, they'll be ere soon." Kassar whistled to
the horses and they followed him around the verge of grass and into the
camp.
"Hey, where are you going?" Welf cried out.
"My tent. I'll tell em you need elp." Kassar said, he used his
knees to guide his mare to the left on a trail freshly tracked through the
brambles of the wild field where the camp was set. There were tents and
wagons on either side with lanterns and fires lighting them, makeshift,
taverns and brothels, merchants selling wares and fortune tellers, a
traveling marketplace, where anything might be bought or sold.
The sound of music, shouting and singing could be heard throughout
the camp, and men and women walked and staggered from tent to tent. A few
had wandered over to see what the yelling had been about, and Kassar
yelled to them to grab a weapon because trouble was on the way.
"Kassar, I need help now, you and the boy stay here, I'll send
some of these soldier boys out to raise the alarm." Welf demanded.
"Ya given me an order there Welf?" Kassar asked.
"You know I'm not. I'm asking your help." Welf told him sincerely.
Kassar gave it a moments thought then nodded his head. "I stay,
Dinet, you fight better on ground."
"Fight!" Dinet cried. "You crazy?"
Kassar rode over to him, the nomad had drawn his knife, its blade
slashed out and Dinet held onto the severed ends of his reins. A hand
jabbed him in the chest and sent the little thief backwards, head over
heels out of the saddle and onto the dirt road.
* * *
(To Be Continued)