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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4793952" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest</p><p></p><p>Part 8: Astaroth.</p><p></p><p>The gate?</p><p></p><p>CRASH</p><p></p><p>The sound comes again.</p><p></p><p>It is the gate. It sounds as if some huge monstrosity has just ripped the thing off its hinges, which as it happens, is a fairly accurate description of events. Cathal takes charge - “spread out, into the shadows, ready yourselves.” Ignaran and Kullervo do as they’re told; the Rogue disappears into the impenetrable dark, with added mist for improved hiding. The Druid presses himself against a wet and dirty wall - half-closes his eyes and wishes himself invisible. Cathal draws his sword and heads for the shadow also.</p><p></p><p>They wait.</p><p></p><p>Cathal's mind wanders for a second, he's back at home, 112 Dyvers Row; Fallcrest. Fourteen years old, and stood to attention. His father is elsewhere, stalking the half-empty rooms of their broken home. There's a candle burning on top of both of the coffins, mourners crowd around - not speaking, holding their breath - waiting for his father's return, to finish the prayer and say goodbye to his wife, and the son that he adored. Cathal stands as still as a statue, hands pressed so tightly together that they shiver and shake... finally plodding footsteps - his father approaches.</p><p></p><p>Splashing - footsteps down the alley into the courtyard, and to a halt; a shadowy figure, a monstrous shadowy figure silhouetted briefly, coal coloured skin, as big as a... big.</p><p></p><p>The creature comes on, towards the hiding places of the three neophyte adventurers, and then on- till it towers before the half-revealed statue.</p><p></p><p>The man, scratch that - man-mountain, shivers- then unlimbers his Greataxe, part of a sweeping circular motion.</p><p></p><p>THUNK.</p><p></p><p>And takes the statue’s head clean off. The stone head splashes into the basin causing a mini tidal wave of foetid stinking water.</p><p></p><p>“Huh-huh.” Astaroth rumbles, with a voice as deep as the ocean.</p><p>Snick.</p><p>“Don’t move.” Cathal steps out of the shadows, his longsword before him.</p><p>Astaroth turns around, Cathal's blade suddenly looks much too small, not up to the job.</p><p>“I said…” Cathal tries. </p><p>Astaroth; six feet six, three hundred plus pounds of interlocking plates of solid muscle, over which is strapped and tied, thick black armour. In his hands a greataxe slightly taller than he is, the double-headed blade almost as broad. A giant black man with a swathe of black hair, seemingly cut and styled by a blind woman with a grudge; he looks bored and shrugs a ‘so what’, and leans on his axe [1].</p><p></p><p>Ignaran steps out of the shadow, the big man looks suitably surprised, although the Friday Knights will later learn that Astaroth is more in need of spectacles than a decent hair cut.</p><p>“Who are you?” Ignaran asks, and finds his voice has deepened [2].</p><p>“Astaroth.” The big man replies, which tells them nothing.</p><p>“Why are you here?” Cathal cuts to the chase.</p><p>“Kill bad men, rescue Lady.” [3] Astaroth offers, and rests his greataxe over his shoulder.</p><p>The latter manoeuvre causes Ignaran and Cathal to momentarily scatter, or at least duck and dodge a little.</p><p>“Which bad men?” Ignaran asks.</p><p>“What Lady?” Cathal tries.</p><p>“Bad men”, followed by a shrug in the general direction of the Beggar King’s abode. He then goes on, “Lady Constance [4]- real purty, great big money bags.” Astaroth mimes two hefty sacks, “Huh-huh”, he rumbles and grins.</p><p>“She in there?” Cathal points to the Beggar King’s den.</p><p>Astaroth nods heartily.</p><p></p><p>Cathal glances at Ignaran, then decides against asking the Druid's opinion. He strides forward - smiling; “then join us, for our duty lies within, we too have business with the Beggar King - join us, together we will rescue your good Lady and bring the Beggar King to justice once and for all.” The offer wavers between a statement and a question. Either way, when he’s done Cathal watches Astaroth’s face intently for any indication of his answer.</p><p></p><p>“Huh-huh, great big…” Astaroth mimes money bags again, and then nods and grins like a child offered ice cream.</p><p>“Good man.” Cathal chucks the huge warrior's arm, solid muscle, biceps as big as his head. “Cathal, Knight Warrior of Kord”, he offers his hand - which is duly crushed in the Astaroth's oversize paw.</p><p>“Ignaran”, Ignaran takes his turn, “owww.” He withdraws his hand from the giant's grasp and shakes the feeling back into his throbbing fingers.</p><p>“Kullervo”, from the shadows Kullervo whispers, which causes Astaroth to turn on the spot, his axe leaping into his hands. “Ugh”, Astaroth nods at the newly revealed Rogue, “sneaky”, he adds and chuckles a little.</p><p>“Door.” Astaroth proclaims, and goes to stride off down the alley.</p><p>Kullervo reaches out and grabs at him which, surprisingly, is enough to arrest his progress “what happened at the gate back there?”</p><p>“Gate gone. Gone good.” Astaroth shrugs the Druid off and stomps to the half-open door into the Beggar King's lair.</p><p></p><p>The three remaining Friday Knight share a look.</p><p>“It was...” Ignaran begins.</p><p>“And locked, and trapped- probably” Kullervo finishes.</p><p>Cathal looks after the man-mountain as he heads back the alley to the half-open door.</p><p>“I don’t like this” he states, and chews at his beard.</p><p></p><p></p><p>[1] For those familiar with the great works of Thrud the Barbarian, then be prepared, he's back, or at least his latest incarnation is.</p><p></p><p>[2] A common occurrence - all males, and some females, conversing with Astaroth drop an octave or two, and more often than not find themselves attempting to appear much larger, and especially broader, than they actually are. It's a defence mechanism, the effect is often foiled by the person's body language, and/or facial expressions, which are usually screaming something along the lines of- 'don't eat me- please, I'm chewy... and I don't taste nice.' By-and-large those facing Astaroth spend much of their time concentrating on their legs, which are frantically sending messages to the brain that they want to be elsewhere, and in a hurry.</p><p></p><p>[3] A typical Astaroth reply, short and punchy.</p><p></p><p>[4] Lady Anaconda Forsooth Constance, all the Constance girls are named after serpents, Lord Constance, their father, a devout Pelorian believed all women to be the servants of the Dark One and responsible for the fall of man. His death was mourned by few, including his family, in life he was a lying, deceiving, in-bred misogynist; in death he serves as a rather intriguing hat-stand in the Constance residence. Lady Anaconda, the oldest of the girls, is heir to the family fortune.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 4793952, member: 16069"] The Friday Knights in Sellswords of Fallcrest Part 8: Astaroth. The gate? CRASH The sound comes again. It is the gate. It sounds as if some huge monstrosity has just ripped the thing off its hinges, which as it happens, is a fairly accurate description of events. Cathal takes charge - “spread out, into the shadows, ready yourselves.” Ignaran and Kullervo do as they’re told; the Rogue disappears into the impenetrable dark, with added mist for improved hiding. The Druid presses himself against a wet and dirty wall - half-closes his eyes and wishes himself invisible. Cathal draws his sword and heads for the shadow also. They wait. Cathal's mind wanders for a second, he's back at home, 112 Dyvers Row; Fallcrest. Fourteen years old, and stood to attention. His father is elsewhere, stalking the half-empty rooms of their broken home. There's a candle burning on top of both of the coffins, mourners crowd around - not speaking, holding their breath - waiting for his father's return, to finish the prayer and say goodbye to his wife, and the son that he adored. Cathal stands as still as a statue, hands pressed so tightly together that they shiver and shake... finally plodding footsteps - his father approaches. Splashing - footsteps down the alley into the courtyard, and to a halt; a shadowy figure, a monstrous shadowy figure silhouetted briefly, coal coloured skin, as big as a... big. The creature comes on, towards the hiding places of the three neophyte adventurers, and then on- till it towers before the half-revealed statue. The man, scratch that - man-mountain, shivers- then unlimbers his Greataxe, part of a sweeping circular motion. THUNK. And takes the statue’s head clean off. The stone head splashes into the basin causing a mini tidal wave of foetid stinking water. “Huh-huh.” Astaroth rumbles, with a voice as deep as the ocean. Snick. “Don’t move.” Cathal steps out of the shadows, his longsword before him. Astaroth turns around, Cathal's blade suddenly looks much too small, not up to the job. “I said…” Cathal tries. Astaroth; six feet six, three hundred plus pounds of interlocking plates of solid muscle, over which is strapped and tied, thick black armour. In his hands a greataxe slightly taller than he is, the double-headed blade almost as broad. A giant black man with a swathe of black hair, seemingly cut and styled by a blind woman with a grudge; he looks bored and shrugs a ‘so what’, and leans on his axe [1]. Ignaran steps out of the shadow, the big man looks suitably surprised, although the Friday Knights will later learn that Astaroth is more in need of spectacles than a decent hair cut. “Who are you?” Ignaran asks, and finds his voice has deepened [2]. “Astaroth.” The big man replies, which tells them nothing. “Why are you here?” Cathal cuts to the chase. “Kill bad men, rescue Lady.” [3] Astaroth offers, and rests his greataxe over his shoulder. The latter manoeuvre causes Ignaran and Cathal to momentarily scatter, or at least duck and dodge a little. “Which bad men?” Ignaran asks. “What Lady?” Cathal tries. “Bad men”, followed by a shrug in the general direction of the Beggar King’s abode. He then goes on, “Lady Constance [4]- real purty, great big money bags.” Astaroth mimes two hefty sacks, “Huh-huh”, he rumbles and grins. “She in there?” Cathal points to the Beggar King’s den. Astaroth nods heartily. Cathal glances at Ignaran, then decides against asking the Druid's opinion. He strides forward - smiling; “then join us, for our duty lies within, we too have business with the Beggar King - join us, together we will rescue your good Lady and bring the Beggar King to justice once and for all.” The offer wavers between a statement and a question. Either way, when he’s done Cathal watches Astaroth’s face intently for any indication of his answer. “Huh-huh, great big…” Astaroth mimes money bags again, and then nods and grins like a child offered ice cream. “Good man.” Cathal chucks the huge warrior's arm, solid muscle, biceps as big as his head. “Cathal, Knight Warrior of Kord”, he offers his hand - which is duly crushed in the Astaroth's oversize paw. “Ignaran”, Ignaran takes his turn, “owww.” He withdraws his hand from the giant's grasp and shakes the feeling back into his throbbing fingers. “Kullervo”, from the shadows Kullervo whispers, which causes Astaroth to turn on the spot, his axe leaping into his hands. “Ugh”, Astaroth nods at the newly revealed Rogue, “sneaky”, he adds and chuckles a little. “Door.” Astaroth proclaims, and goes to stride off down the alley. Kullervo reaches out and grabs at him which, surprisingly, is enough to arrest his progress “what happened at the gate back there?” “Gate gone. Gone good.” Astaroth shrugs the Druid off and stomps to the half-open door into the Beggar King's lair. The three remaining Friday Knight share a look. “It was...” Ignaran begins. “And locked, and trapped- probably” Kullervo finishes. Cathal looks after the man-mountain as he heads back the alley to the half-open door. “I don’t like this” he states, and chews at his beard. [1] For those familiar with the great works of Thrud the Barbarian, then be prepared, he's back, or at least his latest incarnation is. [2] A common occurrence - all males, and some females, conversing with Astaroth drop an octave or two, and more often than not find themselves attempting to appear much larger, and especially broader, than they actually are. It's a defence mechanism, the effect is often foiled by the person's body language, and/or facial expressions, which are usually screaming something along the lines of- 'don't eat me- please, I'm chewy... and I don't taste nice.' By-and-large those facing Astaroth spend much of their time concentrating on their legs, which are frantically sending messages to the brain that they want to be elsewhere, and in a hurry. [3] A typical Astaroth reply, short and punchy. [4] Lady Anaconda Forsooth Constance, all the Constance girls are named after serpents, Lord Constance, their father, a devout Pelorian believed all women to be the servants of the Dark One and responsible for the fall of man. His death was mourned by few, including his family, in life he was a lying, deceiving, in-bred misogynist; in death he serves as a rather intriguing hat-stand in the Constance residence. Lady Anaconda, the oldest of the girls, is heir to the family fortune. [/QUOTE]
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