Message #177310

[pcw27]

Then…

Solomon strolled into the hall, dismissing his retune as he did. Barrett, still chewing a mouthful of salted bread, stood up from his seat and gave a lackadaisical bow.

“As you were,” said Solomon.

Barrett was already returning to his bench before Solomon had even finished speaking. He settled in bow-legged and adjusted his codpiece.

“Pleased to be making your acquaintance Navarch,” Barrett said, “fine palace you’ve got.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replied, “may I offer you some wine?”

“Brought something of my own,” Barrett replied. He popped his foot onto his knee, rolled back the leg of his breeches and pulled a flask out of the wooden limb’s fake calf.

“The finest D’haran rum,” Barrett said.

He took a swig and offered some to the Navarch who declined, his eyes narrowing. Barrett shrugged, drank again and took another mouthful of salted bread, getting crumbs all over his tunic.

“Oh, best get this business out of the way first,” Barrett said as he heaved the coins onto the table. The heavy sacks landed with a deafening thud, and Solomon could swear he heard the table crack.

“There’s three thousand give or take,” He said.

“Excellent,” replied Solomon. He gestured to a servant who retrieved the gold and trudged away.

More servants brought in food and drink. Forgetting his earlier decline Barrett took some wine with his rum. He ate in great big mouthfuls, and apparently was not yet acquainted with forks, for he ate right off the tip of a knife or with his bare hands, licking his fingers after each bite. The Navarch’s nose curled but he restrained himself. Borish as he was this man had done great services for Tol Goldora in her hour of need. He was one of the first to reach the ramparts of Golden Farrow, and he’d just secured for them the treasure of Darfix.

In no time Barrett was yammering on about his adventures.

“So, I escaped from Malaise and got the treasure, but then things got hairy. On the one hand I had monsters coming in from Under Darfix, on the other his bandit gang holding the city. So, we took to the rooftops just on the border you see and watched just for the right time to give one the slip and engage the other. The men were tense we’d had a few deserters already but the rest were made of sterner stuff.
   It was my marines against his brigands. They were practically orcs themselves really, you’d barely see a difference, but we cut through em like paper we did! Malaise got away though, who knows where to. I’d have hunted after him but we had the monster horde bearing down on us so we sailed clear out of Darfix harbor and rode the currents home.”

“Quite an adventure,” said Solomon, and indeed the tale had been the best part of the audience so far “well Sir Barrett I have a proposition for you,”

The statement caught Barrett in the midst of guzzling wine. He held up a finger swallowed quickly and coughed.

“You know what they say about mixing your booze?” he asked.

The Navarch shook his head.

“It’s loads of fun and we should all do it!” Barrett joked.

“Indeed, now as I was-“

“Sorry your highness what was the question?” Barrett asked.

“I have a proposition for you,” He repeated, “I’m wondering if you’d like to lead a raid.”

Barrett grinned.

“Navarch you’ve just named my life’s calling; I’d consider it a privilege to carry Tol’s banner far into the north and show the rogue-landers what for”

“Excellent,” said Solomon smiling for the first time since dinner stared, “In that case you may expect a marshalship in the near future. Farewell Sir Barrett as much as I’ve enjoyed this visit, I have much to attend to. The tournament will be starting soon.”

Barrett stood up.

“Ah right, that. I’ll be fighting in it,” he announced.

“Then I wish you luck,”

Barrett extended his hand. Solomon hesitated a moment before clasping it firmly. The two men peered into each other’s eyes and smiled.

Now…

Barrett rolled over and groaned from the sharp pain in his ribs. He thumbed the freshly stitched wound gently. ‘Another scar for the collection’ he thought.

“Smee!” He cried, “what’s happened I need a report!”

The former scout, now a scribe scurried into his tent.

“Praise the stars you’re awake at last my lord!” Smee exclaimed.

“I can’t believe those bastards sent an assassin after me!” he complained.

“Well you did insult the entire military council and challenged the Navarch to a duel…”

“Oh hogwash, I made an open challenge to all takers, it’s not like I challenged him personally, and they deserved it the hopper-arsed, pudding-headed, milk sots! Countermanding my orders mid-campaign! Stripping me of the marshalship without notice!”

“Well actually sir, I managed to find a copy of a letter. You’d crumpled it up to line your shoe and it was covered in rum, but it did in fact come from Stratcharch Hervis and he did in fact notify you of your demotion,” Smee explained.

“Bollocks! The craven should have told me to my face, and besides he never said I’d not be commanding the raid anymore.”

“I certainly don’t mean to imply that you may have acted rashly,” Smee assured.

“Good so what else has happened,”

“Well you’re now banned from the realm,” said Smee

“Obviously anything else? Where are the raiders now, how many mutinied with me?”

“Umm none sir,” Smee replied.

“Good, clearly all cowards, the lot of them. Wouldn’t have taken them if they’d begged me. They must have attacked by now, how’d my marines fare?”

“Well it was a most peculiar happenstance. Sir, you see when you defeated Malaise and his men on your last visit the locals were rather glad of it. Apparently, they’d been ruling the city like tyrants and well…”

“Yes?”

“They made you their chief,” he explained.

“Chief?”

“Yes Sir,”

“Chief of the roguelanders I’ll be damned,” Barrett chuckled.

“They fought alongside our troops during the raid and though we had to fall back I daresay we took the wind from their sails!” Smee announced.

“Excellent, get me my calico jacket and film my leg-flask,” said Barrett, “Let’s finish them off.”