There were a few missteps with the bears and the wolves, I admit that. Woody’s zeal may have been the provocation of his own consternation. But we’re going to overlook that and jump straight to the part where we seek vengeance and retribution, and perhaps a few more pelts, as we head back into the forest, this time armed with the smiting fist of fire.

The first order of business was to leave Woody at home to guard the perimeter and keep the servants from stealing all the ale mugs. I swear those chaps can’t be trusted. I’m positive they sneaked a peak at all their Yuletide gifts and I’m quite confident they are up to no good with the mandrake plants I’m growing around the house. Plus, we don’t need a repeat of Woody rushing into combat half-cocked and completely unprepared.

With Woody on patrol, it would be easier for me to use stealth and surprise the wolves under the cover of darkness. It was also my plan to lure them out, one by one, separate them from the pack, then seek justice using the power of a cleansing fire.

The pace may have been slow, but vengeance was mine! The dirty wolves met with a savage knock to the head then a cavalcade of fury. My excessive use of the ring of fire, searing ray, flame fist and fireball soon silenced the forest and I dressed their pelts with satisfaction and to the sound of the leaves gently gliding on the wind. I stuffed my satchels to overflowing and when I couldn’t carry anymore, I made my way back home to make sure nothing had been pilfered.

From there, and with a sense of accomplishment, Woody and I took a small vacation and fishing trip to the Desolate Hills. My goal was to line the floors with the wolf hides as well as use them for blankets, pillows, leggings, hats and gloves. I was even going to try and make a bonnet for Woody.

The retreat had been billed as having quaint cabins and scenic views. I now realize the rates were so cheap due to it’s proximity to some ancient burial sites. I sense there is still a bit of unrest out there which we may have to investigate at a later time.

And not to worry, those bears will soon be feeling the scorching heat of my wrath as soon as I teach Woody to fish.

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Ahh yes, who’s laughing now? Not you is it lads?

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Yes, Woody, the term rustic would indeed apply. As does delapidated and most likely, smelly. Good thing we brought those freshly made wolf hides to cover all the stains and ill aromas. And I don’t care what you say or how much you complain, you’re sleeping on the floor. You’re a chest you crazy fool!

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Well, it is quiet, that’s for sure. Yes, I do realize it’s quiet because it’s abandoned. Don’t get hung up on details, you’ll spoil the experience.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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