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<blockquote data-quote="byxbee" data-source="post: 157613" data-attributes="member: 985"><p><strong>UV23 and Lela, your words are too kind. Muchos Gracias</strong></p><p></p><p><strong> Chapter 7 </strong></p><p><strong>“Fly by night, away from here… Change my life, again”</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p>“YOU’RE MAKING A STUPID F$(KIN MISTAKE, DWARF” said Griffon, sword quickly at his side. </p><p></p><p>“AND DON’T YOU EVEN FLINCH, BOY, OR I’LL SLICE YOUR ARMS OFF!” </p><p></p><p>Durnae disobeyed without hesitation and dove for cover behind the table, trying desperately to release the ropes that secured his wrists. The ropes seemed tighter than they had been before, and the knot was one he hadn't tied. Could it be that these ropes tied themselves? Maybe that was why the Griffon hadn't checked them to make sure they were tight. </p><p></p><p>Durnae continued to struggle while keeping one eye on the brawl that was developing in front of him. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf was chanting a war hymn, a baritone rumble from the back of his throat. But it was like no war chant Durnae had ever heard. It was more of a contented humming, much like the cooks used to do as they prepared the meals back on Fairwater Homestead. It seemed odd for a warrior in extreme peril to be purring like a pleased cat.</p><p></p><p>The Griffon advanced slowly, shield and sword readied. With a quick snap of his neck he closed the visor on his helmet.</p><p></p><p>CLANG! Sword and axe collided, sparks and twisted shards of metal flying as the two combatants brought their strength to bear. The dwarf was off the table now, ducking and weaving under the heavy swings of the Griffon. Blows were parried, grunts exchanged, and armor creased. The room was suddenly warm, as if the anger of the fighters was heating the very air.</p><p></p><p>A well aimed overhand chop by Griffon caught Mirny unprotected, cutting deeply into his shoulder. Blood soaked through his cloak quickly, spreading down the dwarf’s armored chest.</p><p></p><p>“OK M#*$ER F#@@$R, Now you’re gonna feel it!” shouted Mirny, pain in his voice but a crazed sneer on his face.</p><p></p><p>As the Griffon took a step back to prepare for the dwarf’s fury, Durnae struck. Hands still tied behind his back, he kicked a wobbly chair into the Griffon’s path, causing him to stumble briefly.</p><p>He crawled quickly under the table to avoid any immediate counterstrike.</p><p></p><p>The Griffon’s stumble was just enough of an opportunity for Mirny to strike, and he landed a minor blow to the warrior’s shoulder with the flat of his axe. In fact, it was hardly more than a tap.</p><p></p><p>Durnae, trying unsuccessfully to loosen his bonds and with ropes chaffing his wrists, regained his feet on the opposite side of the table. </p><p></p><p>He stood just in time to see Mirny stepping backwards, grinning. “That should just about do it," he said, grinning at the huge man in front of him. He laid down his axe on the table.</p><p></p><p>The Griffon, unsure of this new development, took one step forward with sword raised to strike the unprotected dwarf. He opened his mouth to speak and paused. A strange look came into his eyes, a look that slowly blossomed into a grimace of fear. </p><p></p><p>He stumbled suddenly backwards into the wall, face twisted in agony. </p><p></p><p>“Huuuunnnnnnn, Huuuuuunnnnn” he gasped with great effort, as if his chest were constricting.</p><p></p><p>He made one last feeble swing at the dwarf, who sidestepped easily, and then his eyes rolled downward and his eyelids fluttered. He fell to the ground in a mass of jingling chain mail and flopping limbs.</p><p></p><p>With the Patrolman laying prone, twitching spasmodically but quietly, Mirny had turned his attention to carefully replacing the cork on the small keg of ale that had been disturbed in the fight. “Well don’t just stand there staring, youngster. Let’s get you out of them ropes.”</p><p></p><p>“But. How. What” Durnae said, unable to find the words to describe what he had just seen.</p><p></p><p>“I’m going to need you to remain very calm right now, boy. You get too excited, you end up looking like our friend over there, understand?” said the suddenly calm dwarf. </p><p></p><p>“You both ate the same mutton, all right… and it had a little bit of Mirny’s Special Seasoning on it, if you catch my drift. You just take it very slow for a few hours, and you’ll be just fine.” The dwarf moved behind Durnae and began to slice through the ropes with a sharp knife. </p><p></p><p>“Damn ropes, seem to resist the blade. Hold still while I try the <em>other</em> knife,” he grumbled, picking up his axe. He could see the concern in Durnae’s eyes. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t you worry bout a thing, it should pass from your system by morning. Just don’t get all rambunctious, or, well…” he said with a nod in the direction of the fallen Guardsman.</p><p></p><p>“Oh Gods” said Durnae, obviously shaken “what have you done? You’ve killed a Griffon.”</p><p></p><p>“Now stop right there, boy. Weren’t you listenin? Don’t get yourself all worked up over this,” said Mirny as he sliced through the ropes, “cuz he ain’t exactly dead. He’s just resting, and likely will be for a few days. When he wakes up and finds his horse gone, he’ll have a long walk to go with his aching head and wheezy lungs.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf looked at Durnae’s naïve, childlike face and laughed. It was a cruel, harsh laugh. “Grab your sword, boy, we’ll need it where we’re going.”</p><p></p><p>Durnae gathered his sword and began to think that he had made a really big mistake coming to Damara.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="byxbee, post: 157613, member: 985"] [b]UV23 and Lela, your words are too kind. Muchos Gracias[/b] [b] Chapter 7 “Fly by night, away from here… Change my life, again”[/b] “YOU’RE MAKING A STUPID F$(KIN MISTAKE, DWARF” said Griffon, sword quickly at his side. “AND DON’T YOU EVEN FLINCH, BOY, OR I’LL SLICE YOUR ARMS OFF!” Durnae disobeyed without hesitation and dove for cover behind the table, trying desperately to release the ropes that secured his wrists. The ropes seemed tighter than they had been before, and the knot was one he hadn't tied. Could it be that these ropes tied themselves? Maybe that was why the Griffon hadn't checked them to make sure they were tight. Durnae continued to struggle while keeping one eye on the brawl that was developing in front of him. The dwarf was chanting a war hymn, a baritone rumble from the back of his throat. But it was like no war chant Durnae had ever heard. It was more of a contented humming, much like the cooks used to do as they prepared the meals back on Fairwater Homestead. It seemed odd for a warrior in extreme peril to be purring like a pleased cat. The Griffon advanced slowly, shield and sword readied. With a quick snap of his neck he closed the visor on his helmet. CLANG! Sword and axe collided, sparks and twisted shards of metal flying as the two combatants brought their strength to bear. The dwarf was off the table now, ducking and weaving under the heavy swings of the Griffon. Blows were parried, grunts exchanged, and armor creased. The room was suddenly warm, as if the anger of the fighters was heating the very air. A well aimed overhand chop by Griffon caught Mirny unprotected, cutting deeply into his shoulder. Blood soaked through his cloak quickly, spreading down the dwarf’s armored chest. “OK M#*$ER F#@@$R, Now you’re gonna feel it!” shouted Mirny, pain in his voice but a crazed sneer on his face. As the Griffon took a step back to prepare for the dwarf’s fury, Durnae struck. Hands still tied behind his back, he kicked a wobbly chair into the Griffon’s path, causing him to stumble briefly. He crawled quickly under the table to avoid any immediate counterstrike. The Griffon’s stumble was just enough of an opportunity for Mirny to strike, and he landed a minor blow to the warrior’s shoulder with the flat of his axe. In fact, it was hardly more than a tap. Durnae, trying unsuccessfully to loosen his bonds and with ropes chaffing his wrists, regained his feet on the opposite side of the table. He stood just in time to see Mirny stepping backwards, grinning. “That should just about do it," he said, grinning at the huge man in front of him. He laid down his axe on the table. The Griffon, unsure of this new development, took one step forward with sword raised to strike the unprotected dwarf. He opened his mouth to speak and paused. A strange look came into his eyes, a look that slowly blossomed into a grimace of fear. He stumbled suddenly backwards into the wall, face twisted in agony. “Huuuunnnnnnn, Huuuuuunnnnn” he gasped with great effort, as if his chest were constricting. He made one last feeble swing at the dwarf, who sidestepped easily, and then his eyes rolled downward and his eyelids fluttered. He fell to the ground in a mass of jingling chain mail and flopping limbs. With the Patrolman laying prone, twitching spasmodically but quietly, Mirny had turned his attention to carefully replacing the cork on the small keg of ale that had been disturbed in the fight. “Well don’t just stand there staring, youngster. Let’s get you out of them ropes.” “But. How. What” Durnae said, unable to find the words to describe what he had just seen. “I’m going to need you to remain very calm right now, boy. You get too excited, you end up looking like our friend over there, understand?” said the suddenly calm dwarf. “You both ate the same mutton, all right… and it had a little bit of Mirny’s Special Seasoning on it, if you catch my drift. You just take it very slow for a few hours, and you’ll be just fine.” The dwarf moved behind Durnae and began to slice through the ropes with a sharp knife. “Damn ropes, seem to resist the blade. Hold still while I try the [i]other[/i] knife,” he grumbled, picking up his axe. He could see the concern in Durnae’s eyes. “Don’t you worry bout a thing, it should pass from your system by morning. Just don’t get all rambunctious, or, well…” he said with a nod in the direction of the fallen Guardsman. “Oh Gods” said Durnae, obviously shaken “what have you done? You’ve killed a Griffon.” “Now stop right there, boy. Weren’t you listenin? Don’t get yourself all worked up over this,” said Mirny as he sliced through the ropes, “cuz he ain’t exactly dead. He’s just resting, and likely will be for a few days. When he wakes up and finds his horse gone, he’ll have a long walk to go with his aching head and wheezy lungs.” The dwarf looked at Durnae’s naïve, childlike face and laughed. It was a cruel, harsh laugh. “Grab your sword, boy, we’ll need it where we’re going.” Durnae gathered his sword and began to think that he had made a really big mistake coming to Damara. [/QUOTE]
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