Competition: Bounty Board Questing

Bounty 4
__The Hound of the Basketweaver__

“Did you hear? There was another one last night,” Mrs. Trimble whispered to Lady Grey. Sinya tried not to listen to the gossip, but talk of the murderers always caught her attention.

“Yes, so tragic. The miller’s son was a sweet boy. What a terrible end to such a short life.” Lady Grey replied with the typical lies afforded the dead. In truth, Thomas was fifteen and already had a reputation among the maids. They knew not to let themselves be alone with the bastard. Of course, everyone knew he was a bastard– except his mother’s husband.

“That is the third one this year. Do you think it will happen again next month?” the lady’s maid queried. A look of fear overtook her countenance.”Who or...what could do such a thing.” She looked around suspiciously. In a town of hundred, the suspect list was rather short.

Sinya tried to ignore the lady and her maid as she continued her work. She needed to weave three more baskets and sell four before she could go home. Her father made it clear she had to make her quota today or there would be consequences. Lady Grey and Mrs Trimble had wandered out of earshot. It was for the best, she knew how the conversation would go. They would cast suspicion on the town drunk, the mortician, and the huntsman. Then, they would then say no one could be that savage and decide it must be an animal.

A few hours later, Sinya walked home dejected. She was still one basket short. As she rounded the last turn, she tried to prepare herself for her father’s reaction. Cutting reeds was hard work, and he always drank when he returned from the fields. By the time Sinya returned home, he was well in his cups and mean. But today, as the hovel came into view, she froze—. The sheriff and the constable were loading her father into the patty wagon. After a moment of shock, she ran down to them.

“What’s happened?” she cried as she reached the sheriff. “Do na take me dad! He has na done anythin’!

“I’m sorry Miss Ani. We have irrefutable evidence that your father killed the miller’s son,” the sheriff explained. “We found a trail of blood leading from the body to your barn where we found several bones buried. There’s only one explanation for it. Mrs. Crawley will be by shortly to help you collect your things and move you to the public house. She’s going to let you stay there for free. It’s all arranged. I’m sorry.” With that, they boarded the wagon and carted the inebriated man off.

Twenty eight days later…

Sinya was making the best of her situation. Her father had been beheaded for his crimes in the town square. She didn’t weep, though. She hadn’t loved the man. She just hadn’t known she could survive without him. But now, she was bussing tables at the pub and things were looking up. The town had moved on. Nobody spoke of the grisly murders or the man punished for it. It seems like everything was going to be ok. Then–the dream returned.

As Sinya wiped down tables, she overheard the patrons whispering. There had been another one. This time right here in town. The constable found him in his office...well mostly in his office. Some of the sheriff was also in the street, and on the sidewalk, and on the walls. Timer was, he had been dipping his pen in the company ink and his secretary left town after being seen with mysterious injuries to her neck. The morning after the next full moon, he was found butchered.

Apparently, her father hadn’t been a murderer, just a mean drunk. But that didn’t help anyone figure out who the true butcher was. Sinya didn’t know why she always dreamt of the murders, but they always left her tired and scared. She wished the premonitions would stop. She knew she couldn’t tell anyone. Witches were drowned here, no matter how helpful they were. So she continued in her work and left the mystery to the professionals...or what was left of them.

Twerpfart City
Kingdom of Ralf the Flatulent

Benn and his brother Gegryck looked at the local bounty board and then grinned at each other.

“Goblins? Really These wankers can’t kill goblins?” Gegryck snorted, hawking a glob of phlegm into the nearby horse trough.

“Must you do that? You know how disgusting I find that habit of yours,” Benn responded sighing. “Yes, apparently these poor folk cannot fend off some goblins.”

Gegryck read the board again. “Whatcher thinkin’? We go and rescue the miners and then save der poor, grateful daughters from their virgi-”

“GEG! What is your problem? You went through all the brothels in Vindaloo, Pan-ty-girdal and then here as well. Does nothing sate that libido of yours?” Benn interrupted. “Give it a rest will you?”

“I hafta make up fer you, my oh so pious and proper brother. Da would shite his coffin if he knew what ye had turned inta’, ye Paladin wannabe.” Gegryck mumbled, chastised.

Benn glared at his older brother and then rolled his eyes. “C’mon, it says we can find more information from someone named Lord Stinkypitts at city hall.”

The two ambled off, looking around the squalid town as they went. Finally coming upon a ramshackle building in the center of town. A crude “City Hall” sign hanging over the door.

Entering they looked around and spotted an obease slob of a man snoring behind a desk. Drool dribbled from his mouth and flies crawled in and out of his hair and the ripped seams of his clothing.

Gegryck kicked the desk and the man awoke with a snort. “OY! We’re here about the goblins.” He yelled.

“What! Goblins, where? Whoozit? *buuurrrrrp* Wha Goblins?” The man stammered rising to his feet. “Who, who, ‘scuse me, whr I put tha’ bottle?”

Digging around in his desk the portly man smiled as he grabbed a large bottle of something that smelled like apples. “Here’s mud up your nose!” he toasted and then took a huge drink of the brandy.

Putting the bottle back he turned and looked at the two men before him. “Now, *burrrrp* Sorry, now what can I do for you and your goblins?”

Benn stepped back from the breath of the foul smelling man. “The bounty board said to see you Lord Stinkypitts about a reward and information concerning a nearby mine with goblins in it and some missing miners?”

“Oh, right, right, um, bounty reward, yeah,” Lord Stinkypitts mumbled. “Ri-, *hic* right. You nee’ ta killem’, all of them. An then bring the goblins back. No,*hic* no thash not right, kill the goshblins and bring the people back. Yeah, yeah, you *hic* you, you get your money then.”

Benn and Gegryck looked at each other and then nodded. “10,000 gold, right?” Benn asked.

“Yesh, thash rite.” the corpulent lord answered. “10 thoushan gold.”

“Fine , put that in writing and we’ll take care of your wee problem.” Gegryck smiled, handing the man a paper, ink and quill.

Lord Stikypitts scribbled the sum and his scrawl across the sheet of parchment. Then affixed his ring seal to a blob of wax on the bottom of it.

Benn grabbed it up, read it and put it away in a pouch for safe keeping. Nodding to the lord, he turned and walked out of the filthy building.

“Gods, I feel like I need a bath now. That was truly disgusting.” Benn huffed as he headed off toward the mine on the outskirts of town.

Passing the livery where their horses were staying Gegryck glanced at it as they walked by. "Not gettin' the 'orses?"

Benn shook his head. "No, the mine isn't far, and the horses can't go into it. Besides, you look like you could use the exercise." He laughed.

"Wha? Sod you! I'm fit as a man can be!" Gegryck squawked, his dander getting up.

Benn smiled, looking at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "Temper, brother, temper. All the Kingdom of Flatulence knows the amazing strength of Gegryck Nevis. Your ego is getting the better of you."

Gegryck stopped his posturing and sulked at his younger brother's tone. "Foin, jes you wait brother, one day, one day I'll be very famous. An all the ladies will want to love me."

Just then an elderly man hobbled up to the two. Wheezing and gasping he tried to stammer out something.

"Calm yourself elder, what is your hurry?" Benn said, placing his hands on the old man's shoulders.

"You are, *gasp*, heading to the mines, *gasp, gasp*, yes? To kill the goblins? Yes?" The old man finally gasped out.

"Whatchit to ya?" Gegryck asked, putting his hand on his pistol crossbow.

"Be warned! 5 and 9 adventures have ventured to that mine, none have returned! None I say. The mine is haunted, I tell you!" the elder cried, gripping Gegryck's armor and shaking him.

Benn separated the two and pushed the old man away. "Calm yourself grandfather, we have heard all the stories. We shall be fine."

“You young fools, there is evil there I tell you spooks, goblins, evil!” He wheezed, collapsing onto a nearby bench.

“Let’s go before he gets riled up again,” Gegryck muttered, pulling at his brother's sleeve.

Moving quickly away from the old man, the two men headed out of town and into the woods along the road to the mine.

After traveling about an hour they came to the area where the mine was located. There were goblins sleeping around the opening, many goblins. Filth and reek were mostly what was to be found. The goblin stench of feces, the funk of unwashed dirty under shorts and rancid breath were overpowering. A noxious green mist floated near the creatures making the men’s eyes water and blink.

Backing away they hunkered down and tried to figure out a way to deal with the smell and all the monsters present.

“This is not what i expected,” Benn whispered. “I wonder if a magic missile would ignite the gasses and crisp them. I have a spell on a parchment we could use.”

“Try it! Aim for the opening. I should roast all those stinky little freaks.” Gegryck encouraged.

Benn rummaged around in his hip pouch and found the small bone scroll holder. “As far as I know, all I have to do is read it.”

“What? No spell components? Guano? Sulphur? Wax? Nothing?” Gegryck whispered back surprised.

“I don’t know, I’ve never used a spell scroll before. When I got it I was told I just had to read it and it would work.” Benn said shrugging his broad shoulders. “Here goes nothing.”

Unrolling the scroll Benn squinted at the odd magic language. Figuring out the sounds in his head he took a deep breath and spoke the words. "Klaatu barada nikto, Treguna Mekoides Trecorum Satis Dee, Wingardium Ala Peanutbutter sandwiches!”

Nothing happened and Gegryck looked at his brother like he was crazy. “What in all the Gods names was tha’? Are ye kidding me?”

Benn stared at the paper wide eyed, then looked at Gegryck. “I don’t know, I just read it!”

Suddenly the paper began to smoulder, sparks shot out of it and it began to whistle.

Awoken by the noise, the goblins began to stir and look about. Spotting the flashes and smoke they charged the brother’s hiding spot.

Throwing the scroll towards the oncoming goblins, they backed away as a huge flaming orb appeared and streaked towards the cave. Charring the onrushing goblins and setting the air on fire. It entered the cave and then exploded.

The world went blinding white as the gasses in the tunnel ignited. For miles around everything was flattened and turned into jam from the shock wave. Fires raged out of control, the air an inferno of stinky fire.

Then rumbling, what was left of the mountain over the mine collapsed in on itself.

Two shimmering figures appeared amongst the debris of the area.

“Benn? Are you sure that was a magic missile spell?” One asked, fading away.

“Ummm now that you mention it…” and the other was gone.