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Posted by on 2001 Mar 25 |

Blood On The Baron’s Streets

(Therenborough, Therengia: 249 Moliko 364)

Baresh, let me tell you this gruesome tale of Theren, that I, Ecky witnessed.

On the streets of Theren, many folk stop to talk, train, and open their boxes. On this evening, such peaceful pastimes were brutally disrupted as the blood of the town spilled onto its dusty streets.

It began early evening, as one Ieon was slain before our eyes in an act of revenge. While the town guards were quickly marshalled into action to keep the peace, these guards could do nothing about what was going to happen next.

It was with amazement, that the towns folk gazed about them as ten or more gypsy marauders arrived on the scene. My best bet was to take a hasty exit east.

As I ran down the road, I saw ahead of me a number of gypsy scouts. It was a trap. I cursed my bad luck. The scouts sent their arrows into our number, I fell with a single blow, coughing blood into the dust.

Nystarn, one who I remember clearly was on the scene, stood firm. He gave me a shoulder to lean on and lead me out of the range of the gypsy scouts. But our bad luck was getting to worse, for there were more gypsy scouts around the corner. Another arrow struck me, this time in the leg, and my body collapsed beneath me.

By this time, I could see that Nystarn had escaped much injury, and he was eager to put an end to the gypsy invaders. We found a safe corner, and I began to tend to my wounds, removing the arrows from my leg and chest. In a state of shock, I didn’t realise that I was knocking at death’s door. I nodded at Nystarn to go, but as he left I fell into unconciousness, my soul reaching for the white light, Nystarn’s blood curdling howls of "Har!" as he slew the gypsies nearby a faint echo in my mind.

Though the starry road beckoned, Coine, a friend, took my lifeless form to the chapel where Xalixis was working feverishly to rescue the souls of the slain.

After life returned I heard stories of how those such as Towena rallied those around them in battle. The gypsy scouts had stared in disbelief as they were cut to the ground, amid absurd cries of "Whoops!" from their mouths. Even Ichor rats had arrived on the scene, their tiny mouths hungry for blood.