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"Revenge, Renewal and the Promise of a New Year" (Boot Hill/D&D)
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<blockquote data-quote="Silver Moon" data-source="post: 1925510" data-attributes="member: 8530"><p><strong>Interlude Five: The Inn outside of Atlanta </strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong><em>Meanwhile, approximately 1,700 miles east of Promise City, at a township outside of the city of Atlanta, Georgia.....</em></strong> </p><p></p><p>Beauregard Aloysius Dodge sat upon the hillside with three of his half-ogre companions eating some of the hardtack and beef jerky that Jasper had prepared for them and washing it down with a jug of moonshine that they had stolen. </p><p></p><p>They looked down at the town below, specifically at the inn. It was a four-story wooden structure with over 10,000 feet of space inside of it, just a tad shy in size of the main house back on the plantation. This particular inn had been built in 1793, and was one of the few older buildings in the area to have survived Sherman’s razing of Atlanta back during the war. The first floor of the inn consisted primarily of a large restaurant while the upper three floors housed the rooms for guests. </p><p></p><p>Dodge and his companions had disembarked the train at the nearby station two hours earlier, the next train on their journey west not leaving until the following morning. They had lugged their many heavy trunks over to the inn to obtain lodgings for the night, only to be denied admittance by the owner. “Their kind are not allowed inside,” the proprietor said while gesturing to the half-ogres. </p><p></p><p>There were no other inns within walking distance, so they then trudged their luggage out of the town and up the long hillside where they pitched their bedrolls under a tree. It looked to be clear night, little chance of rain, so a night beneath the stars would have to suffice. But Dodge was fuming. To him his companions were more than just former slaves, they were family. Two were half-brothers and the other two were his illegitimate sons. It angered him that a country simpleton like the innkeeper would make arbitrary rules against him and his kin. And Dodge was not one to stew in his anger. </p><p></p><p>They sat back and watched as it began. The glass from windows of the restaurant blew out into the street followed by the gusts of wind and flames behind them, as the sounds of multiple explosions and screams filled the night air. The doors were then blown off from their hinges as more explosions followed. The pillars of flame rapidly rose up through the doors and windows, engulfing the vast building on all sides. A few of the guests managed to jump to safety from windows along the upper floors, but the vast majority of the hundred or so patrons perished as the flaming walls, floors, ceilings and roof began to collapse inward. Some horses managed to escape from the adjacent barn before the hay inside ignited and the flames spread throughout the structure. </p><p></p><p>Fire wagons from the city soon reached the scene of carnage but there was little that they could do. A crowd gathered around the building, watching the remains of it burn into the night as a great bonfire. None of the people in the crowd looked back towards the hillside. If they had they would have seen the human and half-ogres watching with glee, pathological grins plastered onto their faces. </p><p></p><p>The remaining half-ogre, the one who had been secretly trained as an ogre mage, soon returned to his companions. He held within his hand a long metal stick with magical runes upon it and said to the human, “Master Beau, I had to use up ten charges. It was really big.” The man smiled as he looked up at his half-brother and replied, “That’s fine Jabby, it was worth it. How many are left for when we get to Arizona?” The half-ogre looked down at some markings on the Wand of Fireballs and replied “Seventy-three”.</p><p></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: 9px">End of Interlude</span></strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Silver Moon, post: 1925510, member: 8530"] [B]Interlude Five: The Inn outside of Atlanta [I]Meanwhile, approximately 1,700 miles east of Promise City, at a township outside of the city of Atlanta, Georgia.....[/I][/B] Beauregard Aloysius Dodge sat upon the hillside with three of his half-ogre companions eating some of the hardtack and beef jerky that Jasper had prepared for them and washing it down with a jug of moonshine that they had stolen. They looked down at the town below, specifically at the inn. It was a four-story wooden structure with over 10,000 feet of space inside of it, just a tad shy in size of the main house back on the plantation. This particular inn had been built in 1793, and was one of the few older buildings in the area to have survived Sherman’s razing of Atlanta back during the war. The first floor of the inn consisted primarily of a large restaurant while the upper three floors housed the rooms for guests. Dodge and his companions had disembarked the train at the nearby station two hours earlier, the next train on their journey west not leaving until the following morning. They had lugged their many heavy trunks over to the inn to obtain lodgings for the night, only to be denied admittance by the owner. “Their kind are not allowed inside,” the proprietor said while gesturing to the half-ogres. There were no other inns within walking distance, so they then trudged their luggage out of the town and up the long hillside where they pitched their bedrolls under a tree. It looked to be clear night, little chance of rain, so a night beneath the stars would have to suffice. But Dodge was fuming. To him his companions were more than just former slaves, they were family. Two were half-brothers and the other two were his illegitimate sons. It angered him that a country simpleton like the innkeeper would make arbitrary rules against him and his kin. And Dodge was not one to stew in his anger. They sat back and watched as it began. The glass from windows of the restaurant blew out into the street followed by the gusts of wind and flames behind them, as the sounds of multiple explosions and screams filled the night air. The doors were then blown off from their hinges as more explosions followed. The pillars of flame rapidly rose up through the doors and windows, engulfing the vast building on all sides. A few of the guests managed to jump to safety from windows along the upper floors, but the vast majority of the hundred or so patrons perished as the flaming walls, floors, ceilings and roof began to collapse inward. Some horses managed to escape from the adjacent barn before the hay inside ignited and the flames spread throughout the structure. Fire wagons from the city soon reached the scene of carnage but there was little that they could do. A crowd gathered around the building, watching the remains of it burn into the night as a great bonfire. None of the people in the crowd looked back towards the hillside. If they had they would have seen the human and half-ogres watching with glee, pathological grins plastered onto their faces. The remaining half-ogre, the one who had been secretly trained as an ogre mage, soon returned to his companions. He held within his hand a long metal stick with magical runes upon it and said to the human, “Master Beau, I had to use up ten charges. It was really big.” The man smiled as he looked up at his half-brother and replied, “That’s fine Jabby, it was worth it. How many are left for when we get to Arizona?” The half-ogre looked down at some markings on the Wand of Fireballs and replied “Seventy-three”. [B][SIZE=1]End of Interlude[/SIZE][/B] [/QUOTE]
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