The Butcher of Gadobhra

Running to the tavern, Suzette noticed how busy the town had become. New players seemed to be coming to the area every day. She knew that part of this had to do with the plentiful newbie areas around Rowan Keep and the Keep's lack of a tavern or inn. Sedgewick had one of each and seemed to be the meeting place for a lot of the adventuring parties. Business was booming for the locals. Aleister was selling healing potions as fast as he made them. Which was good for Suzette as he was happy to supply her with lots of ingredients for practice. Ranks on a character sheet didn't really translate into skill, the sheet just reflected the skill you had earned. The potency of potions was much greater when made by a practiced alchemist instead of a new player with the alchemy skill. She'd take all the practice she could get.

As she entered the tavern, Derek was just coming up from the basement with a barrel of ale. He paused for a moment without setting it down. "Ah, and here's the culprit. Follow me out back so we can open this up and see what you've done."

"Is that the barrel of ale I made? Why are we taking it out back? I thought it wouldn't be done until tomorrow?"

Derrek set the ale down on a wooden stand made for holding a keg. Suzette saw a grating in the ground. "Well, we have a bit of a problem. You're right, this shouldn't have been done until tomorrow. But the magic is used up and the keg is ready. So, we need to see what you made. Maybe it's all fine, and you just put a bit too much mana into it which sped the process. On the other hand, I've had batches just go bad and stink to high heaven. This is why we are opening it out here where we can pour it into the sewer if it's bad. Take the tap, and push it into the bunghole. Tap it with the wooden mallet to seat it tightly. Then pour a mug and we'll see."

The tap went in fine. When she poured the ale into a mug, it came out very dark and quite foamy. But it didn't smell bad. She took a sip and started choking. "That's a bit strong for my taste." She handed the mug to Derek. He took one sip and then another.

Derek sniffed the ale and then took a longer drink. He closed his eyes as the beverage ran down his throat and hit his stomach. "Strong isn't the word for it. This has the taste of a dark stout, but the alcohol content is far past that. Closer to brandy at around 60 proof. Strong as hell for an ale. I don't want to pry, but I've got to wonder how much mana you put into this. The cantrip drains about 50 mana per batch from me."

"Oops, I used a lot more than that; probably 150 to 200 mana. Is that bad?"

Derrek took another sip. "Well, in this case, I think it works fine. I'll tell a few of the regulars we have a special brew for them to try. Something with a kick like this will have more than a few folks who will like it. But we price it at 2x normal cost. It's not easy to make. That's a lot of mana to dump into one batch." He paused to smell the ale again and touched his nose. "Already getting a bit numb from just half a mug. Let’s make that 4x normal. But warn people before they drink a second mug. We'll have to work on your control. You have a lot of mana. Hell of a lot. Mana is just another ingredient in the brew, like hops or water. Need to measure it better. " He took another sip. "Not that a barrel like this every now and then is a bad thing. Not at all."

"Alright Beatrice, Let's Ride." The cart moved maybe a foot, Beatrice cocked an ear back and brayed her annoyance.

"Ok, sorry, but saying 'let’s drive a cart' just doesn't sound right. If you don't like it, come up with your own phrase. The donkey looked at Ben for a moment before snorting once and then let out a loud "Heehaw!" and started pulling the cart down the road.

They'd gone about 3 miles when four men stepped into the road from some conveniently close bushes. And looking behind him Ben noted two more. These had crossbows cocked. "We need to have some words with you, Mr. Courier. You done us wrong and there will now come a reckonin' for your shaming actions."

A second bandit turned to the first. "Is it 'shaming actions' Jed? I'd think you'd want to be saying 'shameless actions' wouldn't you?"

A third shook his head. "Nope, it's ‘shameful.’ He should be ashamed of what he done, he really should. Shameless is a bit different."

Jed looked at both of them: "Can I intergitate the prisoner please? I don't interrupt when it's your turns."

Ben was confused, and Beatrice didn't have an opinion on which word should be used. "Excuse me, gentlemen, and yes I am an official courier. Can I please be told in what way I have wronged you? I'm sure there is some misunderstanding."

Jed looked at Ben. "Well, I don't think so, the facts of the matter have been explored. You made a trip up to the keep the other day. We'd heard that a new chapter came in the mail from...well, it doesn't matter from who. We knew it was on its way. We were waiting here for you, sort of taking naps in the afternoon sun. Then instead of stopping you just kept going up the road like you weren't stopping at all. We figured we'd been told wrong. But we checked, and sure enough, there was a new chapter of The Perils of Pauline going to Granya in that mail shipment. But you weaseled right on by and didn't stop."

"That's just downright unneighborly," came a voice from one of the two behind Ben.

Jed continued, "An if we ain't neighbors, then I guess we go back to sticking pointy things in you whenever you go by. The boys were itchin' to do it just now but I said that we had to talk at you first, declare your shameful actions, and then we'd stick things in you."

Ben really hated having pointy things stuck into him. The two loaded cross-bows behind him were making him very nervous. "I have to agree fellows, it was shameful. But perhaps mitigated by a lack of information on my part. Still, I'll take full responsibility. How about I run back to the village and see if I can't borrow that chapter from Granya, and get right back here with it."

Jed considered. "Well, it's not according to the rules, but we do want to know what happens. But be quick about it. We'll keep Beatrice here with us. The boys brought some carrots for her."

Ben just nodded, still confused by the circumstances. He took off running back to Sedgewick. The run went quickly, aided as he was by the huge boost in stamina that all Contract Workers gained and his own ability to move quickly. He got to the tavern, waved to Suzette and Derek in the backyard, and went in to see Granya.

Trying to explain the situation to Granya, she interrupted him. "Oh, Lordy! Did no one tell you that when I get a package you have to share it with the local bandit camp? You didn't stop and get the boys caught up on what's going on? Not good. This little agreement is all that keeps them from skewering official couriers on every trip. Here, take this chapter and go read it to them and hope they forgive you."

"Read it to them?"

"Well, of course. They're bandits. Not one of them can read but their Chief and he likes people to read to him. "

Ben nodded his head, getting the gist of the story but still having a lot of questions. He took the pamphlet and quickly ran back to the wagon where several bandits were sitting on the ground. "Gentlemen. I was successful and have the latest exploits of Miss Penelope in my hands. Please gather around and let us see what she is up to today!" A half hour later he and Beatrice were on their way again, and the treaty was considered intact.

Ben considered the situation. It seems that this route used to be quite dangerous because of bandits and goblins. Probably still was for most people. But Matthias had found a way to be beneficial to each group. And in both cases, he'd done it by an interesting interpretation of a courier's duties. Bringing news to the bandits...delivering items ordered by the goblins.

With these thoughts in mind, he made sure to wave at the goblin scouts and turn into the little path up to the camp. Just like last time the chief handed him a bag of money and requested some bottles of Red Wizard Whiskey.

Back on the road again, Ben took his time, as per Mr. Billy’s request, and rolled into Rowan Keep in the midafternoon. The Keep was quite busy with several dozen new adventurers buying items from the merchants and pestering the Legion for various quests. There were also a good number of newly revived players sitting morosely around the statue in the courtyard. Several had bottles of Red Wizard in their hands.

Ben sought out Captain Falcar. "I believe I have something for you, Captain." He handed over the bag with the severed head of the necromancer-wolf they had killed.

[Success! You have completed the quest: Destroy the wolfpack in the Hollywood

By bringing in the head of the alpha wolf you have completed the quest started by others. Your group receives 2 silver pieces each.]

Sgt. Julius walked up and handed Ben a small bag of jingling coins. "Thank you, hero, we will certainly not be bothered by this wolf again."

An eerie howl echoed through the hills, growing in volume. Many players covered their ears. A sense of dread took hold of them all.

[The Wolf Eternal!

Beware! For Chartok the Necro-Wolf has returned, stronger than ever. Having reaped the souls of many heroes the wolf spirit has taken a new body and rebuilt his pack of terror. Chartok roams the Hollywood once again.]

Captain Falcar glared at his sergeant. "You just had to say it, didn't you?" Julius slapped his forehead. Several interested adventurers began lining up to get information on the new quest.

Ben wandered off looking for the whiskey merchant. He hoped to never see that wolf again. Unfortunately, worse was waiting for him, in the person of Layla Vandergilt.

"Finally! I've been sitting around this ugly little keep, fending off advances from idiots for hours. Where the hell have you been? And what the hell is this, a donkey cart? Billy tells me to wait for my escort and then sends a half-loaded cart pulled by some glue factory reject. He has a lot to answer for."

Ben just nodded and mumbled. He'd dealt with people like this before. The more tired and annoyed they were, the meaner they were to others. "Sorry ma'am...roads is dangerous...have you back soon." Beatrice glared at her. Unaware of how close to death she was, Layla simply climbed into the back of the cart. Ben started back down the road to home. Beatrice made sure they hit every rock on the way. Layla only noticed they were off the main road when they came to the goblin camp.

"What the hell is this place?"

Ben stopped the cart. "Just making a delivery ma'am. Please just stay in the cart while I drop off the chief’s booze".

"The hell I'll sit still. I need to stretch my legs so I'm looking around. And this booze is crap."

Ben saw she was holding a half-empty bottle of Red Wizard whiskey. He checked the case in the back and sure enough, it was opened and a bottle missing. This fact was not lost upon the enraged chief when Ben brought the case up to his wooden throne. "Your female steals this Chief's booze! Our agreement is broken Ben-courier! This will mean war between our peoples."

Ben quickly pulled out the bag with his quest rewards. "Oh, great chief, know that this woman is not of my tribe. She is an enemy/friend of Chief Billy. To make good upon our deal, I pledge this silver for many bottles to replace the one that she took."

The chief hefted the bag. "This buys a lot more than one bottle Bencourier. A lot more."

Ben eyed the half-drunk woman strutting around the camp and making disparaging comments about its inhabitants. "The woman has also offended your tribe. And she offended Beatrice as well. Chief Billy would not be unhappy if she suffered a bit and did not make it back before the sky was fully dark."

The Chief looked at Ben, then at a still-fuming Beatrice. First, he winked at Ben, then tossed back the bag of coins saying, "Make sure there are two extra bottles, next time and we're good. Then he stood and yelled. "THIEF! You steal the sacred fire water of the Red Wizard. You shall be punished. Capture her, brave members of my tribe. She shall suffer the pokings of a thousand sharp sticks and be burnt upon the pyre! After her my warriors. Do not let her run to the safety of her village."

The goblins didn't have to be told twice. A dozen of them started poking lightly at Layla, barely drawing blood. She screamed and ran for the front gate, two dozen goblins lazily running behind her. The chief picked up the half-empty bottle and poured two glasses for himself and Ben. The rest he put in a bowl for Beatrice. "She'll show up a couple of hours past sundown. You have my word on that friend Bencourier." Ben and Beatrice made good time on the rest of the trip and were home soon. They did make a small stop at the clearing where the bandits seemed to hang out. Chapter 174 of 'The Perils of Pauline' had arrived for Granya. Ben read the chapter to them. He was getting better at doing all the voices, to the bandits' delight.

Later, after dark, Billy was sitting on the grassy hill overlooking the bridge at the edge of town. Layla came stumbling up the road, pursued by jeering goblins. One was poking her repeatedly in the butt with a blunt stick to keep her moving as the others just walked behind laughing. As she finally crossed the bridge, they turned for home. Layla turned and spat at them. "Your days are numbered you filthy little rats. Your whole village will be a smoking hole when I'm done."

Billy took a sip of his freshly brewed dark stout and a bite of a meat muffin. The food and ale at the tavern was getting a lot better. He watched the angry Layla head into the village and enjoyed a few more moments while he sipped his ale. Life was good today.