I've beem DMing for around 20 years, but in all that time I've never actually got to play the game. My wife has recently taken pity on me and resolved to run me through a campaign at least once in my life.
I'm teaching her how to DM as she goes, so she hasn't quite got the balancing right yet, but it's been a blast so far and I thought I'd share the writeup I've started for it.
I'm playing Hirsan Brannik, a Level 3 Chaotic Neutral tristalt Kensei Monk/Moon Druid/Echo Knight Fighter.
Hope you enjoy, let us know what you think!
***************
Hirsan Brannik leaps through the treetops with a natural ease, bouncing from limb to limb as the oblivious boar beneath him roots through the dirt for its last meal. He grips his gnarled, leather hooded quarterstaff tightly in one rough hand and readies himself to leap down when a sound like thunder rocks the forest followed by the screeching of horses and the voices and shouts of numerous men.
The boar squeals as it mindlessly flees deeper into the forest and beyond his grasp.
Hirsan grinds his teeth in anger as he watches his supper slip through the thick underbrush and out of sight. The crashing and shouting continues and his fist clenches so tightly he can hear the wood of his staff groan in protest.
“Let's go.” he grunts irritably at his shadow cast against the tree trunk behind him. With the same easy grace he begins flitting across the branches in the direction of the unwelcome disturbance, making no more noise on his approach than the shadow itself.
***********************
The last guard goes still as the knife pierces his heart and the pair of bandits holding his arms allow him to collapse motionless in the trampled dirt.
A woman screams as she's ripped from the gilded carriage, but with a shake of his head the boss indicates she isn't the one they're after and a practiced blade quickly turns her cries of terror into a long, pitiable gurgle.
Princess Eleanor shrieks in turn as she's dragged from the carriage as her favorite maid bleeds to death underfoot. She tries to struggle, but the ragged man carrying her under one arm doesn't even seem to notice.
“Release me at once! Do you even know who my father is?! He'll see you drawn and quartered for this! He'll have the lot of you skinned! He'll-” she gasps in pain and surprise as the apparent boss slams a meaty fist into her solar plexus and drives the air from her lungs.
“He'll have to catch us first girl.” the boss chuckles darkly.
The bandits laugh uproariously as Eleanor struggles to breathe, angry tears stinging her eyes. She tries to summon the strength to retort, to threaten and posture, but as she opens her mouth to speak she's stunned into silence once more.
“Be quiet!” a booming voice shouts from the trees above the clearing. “All of you! Be quiet!”
The princess and her captors look up to see a short, squat man with sun darkened skin and a thick mane of dark hair, shaking a stick at them. He wears a fur vest made of a bear pelt and ragged pants that end just below the knees. His hands, feet and the head of his staff are all wrapped in strips of leather.
The boss is the first to laugh as he notices the man's size and appearance. The six other bandits join in. Two of them casually retrieve bows from the ground and take aim.
The arrows are loosed and the first grazes the hairy man's cheek, drawing blood but causing no reap harm. The second flies true, directly at Hirsan's right eye, until he plucks it from the air an inch before it strikes and regards the shaft with a sneer before tossing it aside.
The two archers feel their laughter die in their throats and glance at each other nervously. Before they can nock another arrow Hirsan is upon them; a mad leap from the high branches brings his staff into the skull of the first archer with enough force to pop it like an overripe melon. He then spins and aims a pair of kicks into the ribs of the second archer, thoroughly shattering the man's ribs.
Two of the bandits draw knives and charge at Hirsan while the other two rush for a bow and quiver dropped in the weeds.
“Get him!” Hirsan roars and to everyone's surprise the strange man's shadow seems to stretch out in the direction of the bandit closest to the bow, leaping from the ground as a fully formed creature of living darkness to deliver a savage flying knee to the shocked highwayman's face, caving it in instantly.
The other would be archer bolts into the forest at the sight of the living shadow and the remaining bandits stare in slackjawed surprise, right up until Hirsan caves their heads in from behind with his heavy staff.
The display of violence snaps the boss out of his confusion and he tosses the girl aside as he draws his spiked mace, spinning it expertly as he strides forward.
“You'll regret that little man!” the boss sneers.
Hirsan says nothing articulate, he simply pounds his chest and roars back in defiance as the larger thug approaches.
The boss begins picking up speed and rushes forward, noticing only too late that the strange little man seems stranger and far larger up close. He tries to stop in his tracks but finds his momentum carries his directly into the dinner plate sized claw attached to the large brown bear that only seconds ago was a man.
The boss stumbles backwards, his leather chest piece and the flesh beneath shredded through. He's too stunned to speak as he looks down at the blood flowing freely from his open chest and finds himself tumbling backwards, at least until something catches him mid-fall. He looks up, still in shock to see the featureless, pitch black face of a bear open its mouth and bite clean through the front of his skull.
Hirsan roars defiantly for a moment more as the body of the bear gives way to that of his usual form. He continues shouting his dominance into the wind until a soft voice calls out “Thank you…”
Hirsan spins around to face the disheveled princess and growls. “Trespasser! Leave this place!”
Eleanor's mouth simply gapes at his impertinence. She manages to stammer “I am in need of an escort and YOU will provide it!”
Hirsan grunts back “No. You leave now!”
“I..you…what?! You have to! I am a princess!” She shouts back.
Hirsan tilts his head curiously and snorts derisively. “What's that?”
Eleanor is visibly taken aback. “It's…the daughter of a king you simpleton!”
Hirsan scratches at his shaggy sideburns and snorts again. “And what's that?”
Eleanor simply blinks. “It's…he's the boss! He owns everything! Everyone has to do what he says!”
At this Hirsan bristles.
“I am the boss!” he growls, stomping towards the petite princess irritably. “Me!”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe of dirt and leaves, but my father is King of Drakaryon; he actually matters.”
Hirsan snarls and begins shouting at her “I am Hirsan Brannik! I am boss! I am king!”
She smirks slightly at the name Hirsan Brannik, but it's short lived, as Hirsan scoops up a handful of dirt and hurls it in her face.
“I am King of Dirt!” he bellows, before grabbing a rock and throwing it at her head; she barely dodges it. “I am King of Rocks!”
Hirsan grabs a small sapling and with a little effort rips it from the ground and hurls it in her direction, forcing her to stumble over herself backing up. “I am King of Trees!”
All trace of Eleanor's mirth is gone as she trips over the mutilated body of the bandit boss and Hirsan rushes to stand over her, grabbing the corpse by what’s left of its head and shaking it violently “I am King of these Dead!”
Hirsan then grabs Eleanor by the face and she feels her heart nearly stop in her chest; the flesh of his hand is so rough that it hurts and his grip is like iron. He bares his teeth inches from her face as he growls “I am King of you! King of Wherever You Say!”
She tries to look away and Hirsan squeezes her face harder, forcing her to look at him. “I am King of All Under The Sky! I will show you…”
She gasps as he releases her, unaware that she was even holding her breath up to this point.
“H…how?” she asks softly.
Hirsan smiles dangerously. There is little joy in the action, no softness; it's the smile of a predator set on the trail of prey.
“I will take you to this King, you will show him to me. I will kill him. I will show you I am King. I will show all that I am King…” his low voice rumbles assuredly.
In that moment, for the first time in her sixteen years in this world, she fears for her father's life.
***********************
“Enough rest, now we go.” Hirsan says, hauling the princess to her feet with one hand and shoving her before him.
“Wait, wait, wait…” she stammers, trying to think of some way to discourage the lunatic herding her into the tree line, but drawing a blank. “If I'm to travel I at least need my horse and…things. A princess cannot be expected to travel on foot!”
Hirsan's lip curls in irritation and he shoves her towards the horses strapped to the carriage. “There.”
She considers testing him further but thinks better of it. With a sigh of resignation she snaps “Gather my things then while I prepare the horse.”
It takes her several long minutes to put a saddle and bridle onto the horse and the moderate exertion almost exhausts her. Panting, she looks up at the beast's saddle and then puffs up in an attempt to regain her dignity.
“Well? A lady can't be expected to mount her own horse! Assist me!”
Hirsan regards her with a disapproving frown for a moment that slowly turns into a mocking grin. Before she can rescind her order the brutish wild man seizes her by the back of the dress, his grip extending to the delicate undergarments beneath, and lifts her off the ground and dumps her across the back of the indicated horse.
Eleanor makes a low whining sound under her breath as she recovers from the sudden indignity. By the time she feels like herself again, she realizes they've already entered the woods beyond the clearing; her escort holding the reigns tightly as he leads them away from the site of the massacre.
***********************
They walk until we'll past nightfall; Hirsan seemingly unbothered by the dark or distance. Eventually however Eleanor's constant complaints and demands to stop for the night grows to be more than her guide can withstand.
Throwing the reigns to the ground, Hirsan spins and shouts “Rest? You need rest!? You haven't even used your feet, stupid girl! Why would you rest!?”
“It's been a long day, I need to sleep!” She shouts back
Hirsan snarls in her direction for a moment and then plops down against a tree and crosses his arms across his chest, tucking in his chin and closing his eyes.. “Day is day…complain, complain, complain…” he grumbles irritably. “Sleep then!”
She blinks in surprise and struggles down from the horse, tying it to a low hanging branch.
“What…here?” she whines incredulously. “What if something attacks us?!”
Hirsan snorts derisively without opening his eyes. “What would attack King of All Under The Sky?”
Eleanor blushes and in a moment of petulant rage kicks him in the side. “What if the bandits come back!”
Hirsan instinctively rolls to his feet growling as she makes contact and for a moment her heart flutters at the thought he might actually attack her. However instead, the wild man scurries effortlessly up his tree and lays on the first branch large enough to hold him.
“Then they'll die!” He barks down at her.
“I NEED shelter!” Eleanor shrieks at her captor. “Set up my tent!”
“Be quiet now!” Hirsan shouts back. “Sleep! Sleep now!”
“I'm cold! What if it rains? I am a-” Eleanor shouts until Hirsan lands directly in front of her.
Before she can react he seizes her by her bodice and drags her through the woods until he approaches a large bush, which he proceeds to stuff her inside
“Now sleep!” He bellows angrily.
Eleanor can barely move, she can feel her cheeks flushing with shame and indignation. With a conscious choice to provoke him further she grits her teeth and states “You need to feed me. I'm supposed to be under your protection.”
Hirsan suddenly reaches into the bush angrily and she shrinks back away from him. He scrambles for a moment, stripping leaves in an attempt to grab her and then shouts inarticulately in her direction.
“Cold! Hungry! Loud! Useless!” He shouts, stomping at the ground as he storms off, raging into the night.
Despite her best efforts, eventually she falls asleep.
***********************
The sun is barely up when Eleanor awakens to the smell of roasted meat. She’s stiff and sore from her night in the bush and it takes all she has to claw her way out to find a large hunk of meat laying on the ground beside a smoking hole in the ground.
Hirsan crouches beside it gorging himself on a head sized chunk of flesh that's barely cooked; juices running freely down his face and forearms. He raises a lip contemptuously as he sees her emerge and tears off another chunk that he barely chews before swallowing.
“It…smells good.” Eleanor remarks, drifting closer to the meat. She stands awkwardly near it while Hirsan eats before realizing he obviously isn't going to serve her.
She picks at the hot, crispy flesh on the outside, at first nibbling at it daintily; but quickly giving into her hunger and stuffing as much as she can in her mouth before the madman decides she's had enough.
“You must be some huntsman to bring down something so large, so fast.” She says, trying to stroke Hirsan's ego.
He simply grunts without glancing at her.
She purses her lips together in thought. “You're a fine cook as well, considering what you have to work with out here…”
He doesn't even give her a grunt that time.
“Do you think the weather will hold until we reach the city?” she asks.
Hirsan spits out a piece of gristle in irritation. “Talk, talk, talk, talk!” He shouts. “Shut up and eat!”
The princess breathes in deeply, trying to suppress her growing anger, but shouts back “You are the rudest, most boorish and uncouth cur I have ever had the displeasure to meet!”
She begins pacing back and forth. “I once had an actual cur get hit by my carriage that was more even tempered than the likes of you!”
Hirsan simply takes another greedy bite, chewing thoughtfully with his mouth half open.
Eleanor clenches her teeth and storms away to feed the horse before they begin their march for the day. Ss she approaches the place where she hitched it, she neither sees nor hears the beast; she does find its discarded saddle and its reins still tied to the branch however.
She runs back the way she came. “Where is the horse?”
Hirsan smirks as he tears off another handful of greasy red meat and slurps it down.
“Where is the horse?!” she shrieks.
In response, Hirsan licks the congealing on his hands.
Eleanor feels tears flooding her eyes as she rushes the brute, trying to slap him. He easily catches her wrist and shoves her to the ground; barely sparing her a second glance.
“You cruel…ignorant bastard!” She shouts. “That creature was a valuable companion; she was worth more than you can imagine!”
Hirsan grunts. “Smelled like prey. Tastes like prey.”
She's rendered speechless for a long moment.
Eventually she sighs. “You know this will just add more time to the trip…I fear I'll run out of proper clothing before we arrive.”
She looks around. “Where are my things?”
Hirsan simply shrugs.
Eleanor blanches in horror. “I…I told you to bring my things!”
He just shrugs again.
She starts breathing hard. “You oaf! My favorite dresses…I had 500 gold pieces…a priceless heirloom meant for betrothed….”
Hirsan grunts. “Stupid girl. Heavy, useless…. Left it.”
“It's not useless you imbecile!” She rages. “That gold could have purchased food, accommodations, more men!”
Hirsan raises an eyebrow curiously. “Why?”
Eleanor looks confused. “Why what?”
He seems to struggle with the words “Why…gold….”
As she can sense his growing irritation she volunteers “Men exchange gold for goods and services. Food, clothing, whatever you can imagine.”
Hirsan appears intrigued by this knowledge.
“King has gold?” he asks, tilting his head curiously.
She sighs. “Yes…a king has gold.”
Hirsan stands up, wiping his greasy hands on his pants and his face on his hands. “Good. I'll take his gold.”
With that he hauls her to her feet and demands she walk.
“No! You stupid-” she starts, but Hirsan shoves her so hard she stumbles forward several feet and then falls face down.
Before she can recover, she's been hauled to her feet again and Hirsan shoves her again, only slightly softer. “Move!”
She stumbles again and then spins around. “I will not be herded! I am a princess and I will be treated with respect by the likes of you…or else!”
Hirsan shoves her backwards and grunts “Or else what?”
Stumbling, she catches herself on a tree. “Or my father will kill you!”
Hirsan scoffs.
“I'm serious you wretched beast! If you harm one hair on my head my father will track you to the ends of the world and kill you like the animal you are!” She shrieks.
Hirsan stares at her for a moment, his eyes begin narrowing dangerously. “So if you die…the king will come here?”
“Of course!” She shouts back at him, her face twisting into a smug grin. “He would stop at nothing to avenge the death of his child!”
Hirsan doesn't seem to be paying attention to her anymore, he grunts softly to himself seemingly lost in thought. A dark, worrying smile begins creeping across his features as his hand tightens around his gnarled staff.
Her smile falters as she begins following his train of thought. “Of course, he'd never even hear about it all the way out here. We're nowhere near civilization; however could word hope to find him all the way back home?”
Hirsan's smile drops back to a surly frown and he shoves her again.
“Walk then!” He roars.
***********************
Eleanor struggles to match his pace as the briars and brambles tear at her dress painfully. She notices that despite his mostly bare skin the thorns don't seem to bother him nearly as much as they do her.
“Slow down!” She snaps as they crest a hill. “I said slow do-”
Hirsam shoves her again and she loses her balance on the steep decline. She tumbles forward and finds herself picking up speed as she rolls down the hill, eventually landing face first in a wide but shallow stream.
Eleanor shrieks wordlessly as she wipes the water from her eyes. “Help me up!” she finally manages.
A small set of hands grab her by the arms, followed by a second and a third…and a fourth.
She finally regains her composure in time to realize she's landed among a small horde of goblins.
Eleanor opens her mouth to scream, but a foul smelling hand is clasped over her mouth as its owner chuckles maniacally. Small hands begin tearing at her dress, ripping the fine material off in strips even as others begin prying the rings off of her fingers.
She screams and writhes as more goblins begin to appear, but the sound is muffled by the goblin on top of her. The creature's overly large mouth opens wide in a vicious smile showcasing far too many sharp teeth.
As the goblin above her draws a crude stone knife its laughter suddenly stops and blood flows freely from its open mouth and onto her ruined dress. She gasps as its hand falls away and she notices a long, thin dart made of bone protruding from the back of its skull.
She looks up to see Hirsan strolling casually down the hill in her direction, a look of utter contempt etched into his weathered face.
Four goblins break screaming from the pack and rush him. His staff lashes out twice, breaking the neck of one and bursting the skull of a second with surprising ease; he then brings his knee into the face of a third, driving its oversized nose back into its own skull, before lashing out with a snap kick from the same leg that completely shatters the fourth's jaw.
Five more goblins rush from the underbrush with knives and clubs, Hirsan parries three attacks but receives a slash across his midsection and takes a piece of wood to his thigh.
Hirsan cracks another skull with his staff and then kicks a second goblin in the chest, sending it flying into the stream struggling to breathe.
He then deflects three more attacks and responds by a staff blow to the throat of one and a leaping donkey kick that catches the others in the head and snaps their necks instantly.
As Hirsan rolls to his feet the remaining goblins let Princess Eleanor fall back into the water and flee, some with handfuls of her once beautiful dress, others with her jewelry or hair ribbons.
Eleanor is nearly in tears as Hirsan looms into view scowling down at her.
“Useless princess…” he growls as he reaches down to drag her to her feet.
Eleanor blushes brightly red slaps his hand away, struggling to her feet by herself. “I'm a LADY! Not some…some…feral beast! I was just assaulted by goblins!”
Hirsan jams a finger into her chest painfully. “Weak! Stupid! Useless!” He then continues on his way using his staff as a walking stick.
She watches him for several moments, fuming furiously but unable to argue.
I'm teaching her how to DM as she goes, so she hasn't quite got the balancing right yet, but it's been a blast so far and I thought I'd share the writeup I've started for it.
I'm playing Hirsan Brannik, a Level 3 Chaotic Neutral tristalt Kensei Monk/Moon Druid/Echo Knight Fighter.
Hope you enjoy, let us know what you think!
***************
Hirsan Brannik leaps through the treetops with a natural ease, bouncing from limb to limb as the oblivious boar beneath him roots through the dirt for its last meal. He grips his gnarled, leather hooded quarterstaff tightly in one rough hand and readies himself to leap down when a sound like thunder rocks the forest followed by the screeching of horses and the voices and shouts of numerous men.
The boar squeals as it mindlessly flees deeper into the forest and beyond his grasp.
Hirsan grinds his teeth in anger as he watches his supper slip through the thick underbrush and out of sight. The crashing and shouting continues and his fist clenches so tightly he can hear the wood of his staff groan in protest.
“Let's go.” he grunts irritably at his shadow cast against the tree trunk behind him. With the same easy grace he begins flitting across the branches in the direction of the unwelcome disturbance, making no more noise on his approach than the shadow itself.
***********************
The last guard goes still as the knife pierces his heart and the pair of bandits holding his arms allow him to collapse motionless in the trampled dirt.
A woman screams as she's ripped from the gilded carriage, but with a shake of his head the boss indicates she isn't the one they're after and a practiced blade quickly turns her cries of terror into a long, pitiable gurgle.
Princess Eleanor shrieks in turn as she's dragged from the carriage as her favorite maid bleeds to death underfoot. She tries to struggle, but the ragged man carrying her under one arm doesn't even seem to notice.
“Release me at once! Do you even know who my father is?! He'll see you drawn and quartered for this! He'll have the lot of you skinned! He'll-” she gasps in pain and surprise as the apparent boss slams a meaty fist into her solar plexus and drives the air from her lungs.
“He'll have to catch us first girl.” the boss chuckles darkly.
The bandits laugh uproariously as Eleanor struggles to breathe, angry tears stinging her eyes. She tries to summon the strength to retort, to threaten and posture, but as she opens her mouth to speak she's stunned into silence once more.
“Be quiet!” a booming voice shouts from the trees above the clearing. “All of you! Be quiet!”
The princess and her captors look up to see a short, squat man with sun darkened skin and a thick mane of dark hair, shaking a stick at them. He wears a fur vest made of a bear pelt and ragged pants that end just below the knees. His hands, feet and the head of his staff are all wrapped in strips of leather.
The boss is the first to laugh as he notices the man's size and appearance. The six other bandits join in. Two of them casually retrieve bows from the ground and take aim.
The arrows are loosed and the first grazes the hairy man's cheek, drawing blood but causing no reap harm. The second flies true, directly at Hirsan's right eye, until he plucks it from the air an inch before it strikes and regards the shaft with a sneer before tossing it aside.
The two archers feel their laughter die in their throats and glance at each other nervously. Before they can nock another arrow Hirsan is upon them; a mad leap from the high branches brings his staff into the skull of the first archer with enough force to pop it like an overripe melon. He then spins and aims a pair of kicks into the ribs of the second archer, thoroughly shattering the man's ribs.
Two of the bandits draw knives and charge at Hirsan while the other two rush for a bow and quiver dropped in the weeds.
“Get him!” Hirsan roars and to everyone's surprise the strange man's shadow seems to stretch out in the direction of the bandit closest to the bow, leaping from the ground as a fully formed creature of living darkness to deliver a savage flying knee to the shocked highwayman's face, caving it in instantly.
The other would be archer bolts into the forest at the sight of the living shadow and the remaining bandits stare in slackjawed surprise, right up until Hirsan caves their heads in from behind with his heavy staff.
The display of violence snaps the boss out of his confusion and he tosses the girl aside as he draws his spiked mace, spinning it expertly as he strides forward.
“You'll regret that little man!” the boss sneers.
Hirsan says nothing articulate, he simply pounds his chest and roars back in defiance as the larger thug approaches.
The boss begins picking up speed and rushes forward, noticing only too late that the strange little man seems stranger and far larger up close. He tries to stop in his tracks but finds his momentum carries his directly into the dinner plate sized claw attached to the large brown bear that only seconds ago was a man.
The boss stumbles backwards, his leather chest piece and the flesh beneath shredded through. He's too stunned to speak as he looks down at the blood flowing freely from his open chest and finds himself tumbling backwards, at least until something catches him mid-fall. He looks up, still in shock to see the featureless, pitch black face of a bear open its mouth and bite clean through the front of his skull.
Hirsan roars defiantly for a moment more as the body of the bear gives way to that of his usual form. He continues shouting his dominance into the wind until a soft voice calls out “Thank you…”
Hirsan spins around to face the disheveled princess and growls. “Trespasser! Leave this place!”
Eleanor's mouth simply gapes at his impertinence. She manages to stammer “I am in need of an escort and YOU will provide it!”
Hirsan grunts back “No. You leave now!”
“I..you…what?! You have to! I am a princess!” She shouts back.
Hirsan tilts his head curiously and snorts derisively. “What's that?”
Eleanor is visibly taken aback. “It's…the daughter of a king you simpleton!”
Hirsan scratches at his shaggy sideburns and snorts again. “And what's that?”
Eleanor simply blinks. “It's…he's the boss! He owns everything! Everyone has to do what he says!”
At this Hirsan bristles.
“I am the boss!” he growls, stomping towards the petite princess irritably. “Me!”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe of dirt and leaves, but my father is King of Drakaryon; he actually matters.”
Hirsan snarls and begins shouting at her “I am Hirsan Brannik! I am boss! I am king!”
She smirks slightly at the name Hirsan Brannik, but it's short lived, as Hirsan scoops up a handful of dirt and hurls it in her face.
“I am King of Dirt!” he bellows, before grabbing a rock and throwing it at her head; she barely dodges it. “I am King of Rocks!”
Hirsan grabs a small sapling and with a little effort rips it from the ground and hurls it in her direction, forcing her to stumble over herself backing up. “I am King of Trees!”
All trace of Eleanor's mirth is gone as she trips over the mutilated body of the bandit boss and Hirsan rushes to stand over her, grabbing the corpse by what’s left of its head and shaking it violently “I am King of these Dead!”
Hirsan then grabs Eleanor by the face and she feels her heart nearly stop in her chest; the flesh of his hand is so rough that it hurts and his grip is like iron. He bares his teeth inches from her face as he growls “I am King of you! King of Wherever You Say!”
She tries to look away and Hirsan squeezes her face harder, forcing her to look at him. “I am King of All Under The Sky! I will show you…”
She gasps as he releases her, unaware that she was even holding her breath up to this point.
“H…how?” she asks softly.
Hirsan smiles dangerously. There is little joy in the action, no softness; it's the smile of a predator set on the trail of prey.
“I will take you to this King, you will show him to me. I will kill him. I will show you I am King. I will show all that I am King…” his low voice rumbles assuredly.
In that moment, for the first time in her sixteen years in this world, she fears for her father's life.
***********************
“Enough rest, now we go.” Hirsan says, hauling the princess to her feet with one hand and shoving her before him.
“Wait, wait, wait…” she stammers, trying to think of some way to discourage the lunatic herding her into the tree line, but drawing a blank. “If I'm to travel I at least need my horse and…things. A princess cannot be expected to travel on foot!”
Hirsan's lip curls in irritation and he shoves her towards the horses strapped to the carriage. “There.”
She considers testing him further but thinks better of it. With a sigh of resignation she snaps “Gather my things then while I prepare the horse.”
It takes her several long minutes to put a saddle and bridle onto the horse and the moderate exertion almost exhausts her. Panting, she looks up at the beast's saddle and then puffs up in an attempt to regain her dignity.
“Well? A lady can't be expected to mount her own horse! Assist me!”
Hirsan regards her with a disapproving frown for a moment that slowly turns into a mocking grin. Before she can rescind her order the brutish wild man seizes her by the back of the dress, his grip extending to the delicate undergarments beneath, and lifts her off the ground and dumps her across the back of the indicated horse.
Eleanor makes a low whining sound under her breath as she recovers from the sudden indignity. By the time she feels like herself again, she realizes they've already entered the woods beyond the clearing; her escort holding the reigns tightly as he leads them away from the site of the massacre.
***********************
They walk until we'll past nightfall; Hirsan seemingly unbothered by the dark or distance. Eventually however Eleanor's constant complaints and demands to stop for the night grows to be more than her guide can withstand.
Throwing the reigns to the ground, Hirsan spins and shouts “Rest? You need rest!? You haven't even used your feet, stupid girl! Why would you rest!?”
“It's been a long day, I need to sleep!” She shouts back
Hirsan snarls in her direction for a moment and then plops down against a tree and crosses his arms across his chest, tucking in his chin and closing his eyes.. “Day is day…complain, complain, complain…” he grumbles irritably. “Sleep then!”
She blinks in surprise and struggles down from the horse, tying it to a low hanging branch.
“What…here?” she whines incredulously. “What if something attacks us?!”
Hirsan snorts derisively without opening his eyes. “What would attack King of All Under The Sky?”
Eleanor blushes and in a moment of petulant rage kicks him in the side. “What if the bandits come back!”
Hirsan instinctively rolls to his feet growling as she makes contact and for a moment her heart flutters at the thought he might actually attack her. However instead, the wild man scurries effortlessly up his tree and lays on the first branch large enough to hold him.
“Then they'll die!” He barks down at her.
“I NEED shelter!” Eleanor shrieks at her captor. “Set up my tent!”
“Be quiet now!” Hirsan shouts back. “Sleep! Sleep now!”
“I'm cold! What if it rains? I am a-” Eleanor shouts until Hirsan lands directly in front of her.
Before she can react he seizes her by her bodice and drags her through the woods until he approaches a large bush, which he proceeds to stuff her inside
“Now sleep!” He bellows angrily.
Eleanor can barely move, she can feel her cheeks flushing with shame and indignation. With a conscious choice to provoke him further she grits her teeth and states “You need to feed me. I'm supposed to be under your protection.”
Hirsan suddenly reaches into the bush angrily and she shrinks back away from him. He scrambles for a moment, stripping leaves in an attempt to grab her and then shouts inarticulately in her direction.
“Cold! Hungry! Loud! Useless!” He shouts, stomping at the ground as he storms off, raging into the night.
Despite her best efforts, eventually she falls asleep.
***********************
The sun is barely up when Eleanor awakens to the smell of roasted meat. She’s stiff and sore from her night in the bush and it takes all she has to claw her way out to find a large hunk of meat laying on the ground beside a smoking hole in the ground.
Hirsan crouches beside it gorging himself on a head sized chunk of flesh that's barely cooked; juices running freely down his face and forearms. He raises a lip contemptuously as he sees her emerge and tears off another chunk that he barely chews before swallowing.
“It…smells good.” Eleanor remarks, drifting closer to the meat. She stands awkwardly near it while Hirsan eats before realizing he obviously isn't going to serve her.
She picks at the hot, crispy flesh on the outside, at first nibbling at it daintily; but quickly giving into her hunger and stuffing as much as she can in her mouth before the madman decides she's had enough.
“You must be some huntsman to bring down something so large, so fast.” She says, trying to stroke Hirsan's ego.
He simply grunts without glancing at her.
She purses her lips together in thought. “You're a fine cook as well, considering what you have to work with out here…”
He doesn't even give her a grunt that time.
“Do you think the weather will hold until we reach the city?” she asks.
Hirsan spits out a piece of gristle in irritation. “Talk, talk, talk, talk!” He shouts. “Shut up and eat!”
The princess breathes in deeply, trying to suppress her growing anger, but shouts back “You are the rudest, most boorish and uncouth cur I have ever had the displeasure to meet!”
She begins pacing back and forth. “I once had an actual cur get hit by my carriage that was more even tempered than the likes of you!”
Hirsan simply takes another greedy bite, chewing thoughtfully with his mouth half open.
Eleanor clenches her teeth and storms away to feed the horse before they begin their march for the day. Ss she approaches the place where she hitched it, she neither sees nor hears the beast; she does find its discarded saddle and its reins still tied to the branch however.
She runs back the way she came. “Where is the horse?”
Hirsan smirks as he tears off another handful of greasy red meat and slurps it down.
“Where is the horse?!” she shrieks.
In response, Hirsan licks the congealing on his hands.
Eleanor feels tears flooding her eyes as she rushes the brute, trying to slap him. He easily catches her wrist and shoves her to the ground; barely sparing her a second glance.
“You cruel…ignorant bastard!” She shouts. “That creature was a valuable companion; she was worth more than you can imagine!”
Hirsan grunts. “Smelled like prey. Tastes like prey.”
She's rendered speechless for a long moment.
Eventually she sighs. “You know this will just add more time to the trip…I fear I'll run out of proper clothing before we arrive.”
She looks around. “Where are my things?”
Hirsan simply shrugs.
Eleanor blanches in horror. “I…I told you to bring my things!”
He just shrugs again.
She starts breathing hard. “You oaf! My favorite dresses…I had 500 gold pieces…a priceless heirloom meant for betrothed….”
Hirsan grunts. “Stupid girl. Heavy, useless…. Left it.”
“It's not useless you imbecile!” She rages. “That gold could have purchased food, accommodations, more men!”
Hirsan raises an eyebrow curiously. “Why?”
Eleanor looks confused. “Why what?”
He seems to struggle with the words “Why…gold….”
As she can sense his growing irritation she volunteers “Men exchange gold for goods and services. Food, clothing, whatever you can imagine.”
Hirsan appears intrigued by this knowledge.
“King has gold?” he asks, tilting his head curiously.
She sighs. “Yes…a king has gold.”
Hirsan stands up, wiping his greasy hands on his pants and his face on his hands. “Good. I'll take his gold.”
With that he hauls her to her feet and demands she walk.
“No! You stupid-” she starts, but Hirsan shoves her so hard she stumbles forward several feet and then falls face down.
Before she can recover, she's been hauled to her feet again and Hirsan shoves her again, only slightly softer. “Move!”
She stumbles again and then spins around. “I will not be herded! I am a princess and I will be treated with respect by the likes of you…or else!”
Hirsan shoves her backwards and grunts “Or else what?”
Stumbling, she catches herself on a tree. “Or my father will kill you!”
Hirsan scoffs.
“I'm serious you wretched beast! If you harm one hair on my head my father will track you to the ends of the world and kill you like the animal you are!” She shrieks.
Hirsan stares at her for a moment, his eyes begin narrowing dangerously. “So if you die…the king will come here?”
“Of course!” She shouts back at him, her face twisting into a smug grin. “He would stop at nothing to avenge the death of his child!”
Hirsan doesn't seem to be paying attention to her anymore, he grunts softly to himself seemingly lost in thought. A dark, worrying smile begins creeping across his features as his hand tightens around his gnarled staff.
Her smile falters as she begins following his train of thought. “Of course, he'd never even hear about it all the way out here. We're nowhere near civilization; however could word hope to find him all the way back home?”
Hirsan's smile drops back to a surly frown and he shoves her again.
“Walk then!” He roars.
***********************
Eleanor struggles to match his pace as the briars and brambles tear at her dress painfully. She notices that despite his mostly bare skin the thorns don't seem to bother him nearly as much as they do her.
“Slow down!” She snaps as they crest a hill. “I said slow do-”
Hirsam shoves her again and she loses her balance on the steep decline. She tumbles forward and finds herself picking up speed as she rolls down the hill, eventually landing face first in a wide but shallow stream.
Eleanor shrieks wordlessly as she wipes the water from her eyes. “Help me up!” she finally manages.
A small set of hands grab her by the arms, followed by a second and a third…and a fourth.
She finally regains her composure in time to realize she's landed among a small horde of goblins.
Eleanor opens her mouth to scream, but a foul smelling hand is clasped over her mouth as its owner chuckles maniacally. Small hands begin tearing at her dress, ripping the fine material off in strips even as others begin prying the rings off of her fingers.
She screams and writhes as more goblins begin to appear, but the sound is muffled by the goblin on top of her. The creature's overly large mouth opens wide in a vicious smile showcasing far too many sharp teeth.
As the goblin above her draws a crude stone knife its laughter suddenly stops and blood flows freely from its open mouth and onto her ruined dress. She gasps as its hand falls away and she notices a long, thin dart made of bone protruding from the back of its skull.
She looks up to see Hirsan strolling casually down the hill in her direction, a look of utter contempt etched into his weathered face.
Four goblins break screaming from the pack and rush him. His staff lashes out twice, breaking the neck of one and bursting the skull of a second with surprising ease; he then brings his knee into the face of a third, driving its oversized nose back into its own skull, before lashing out with a snap kick from the same leg that completely shatters the fourth's jaw.
Five more goblins rush from the underbrush with knives and clubs, Hirsan parries three attacks but receives a slash across his midsection and takes a piece of wood to his thigh.
Hirsan cracks another skull with his staff and then kicks a second goblin in the chest, sending it flying into the stream struggling to breathe.
He then deflects three more attacks and responds by a staff blow to the throat of one and a leaping donkey kick that catches the others in the head and snaps their necks instantly.
As Hirsan rolls to his feet the remaining goblins let Princess Eleanor fall back into the water and flee, some with handfuls of her once beautiful dress, others with her jewelry or hair ribbons.
Eleanor is nearly in tears as Hirsan looms into view scowling down at her.
“Useless princess…” he growls as he reaches down to drag her to her feet.
Eleanor blushes brightly red slaps his hand away, struggling to her feet by herself. “I'm a LADY! Not some…some…feral beast! I was just assaulted by goblins!”
Hirsan jams a finger into her chest painfully. “Weak! Stupid! Useless!” He then continues on his way using his staff as a walking stick.
She watches him for several moments, fuming furiously but unable to argue.
