Realizing my future seaworthy vessels would not be found in Penmawr, I traveled down the road to another seafaring town I had heard about, Tenebris Harbor. There had been rumors of a rough sea life, brawling pirate types and the occasional outbreak of swashbuckling. I’ve been in worse, and even caused worse, so I was undeterred.

Turns out the stories were a dash mild and while they had many fine vessels, most of them were on fire. In fact, many things were awash with flame and I felt my appearance was quite ill-timed.

Thinking I might be of assistance, or at least in time to attend a few going out of business sales, I followed the path which should lead me to the docks. But before I had traveled far, I was met by an old prospector hold up in a make shift trauma center.

Several guards were in a rather sad state with unfortunate wounds and terrible tales of being overrun, assaulted violently, and called some questionable names. They were trying to restore order, but making a bad show of it. When speaking to the guard and asking how I might be of assistance, I was informed I could do my part by slashing the pirate invaders to the ground.

“Beg pardon?” I retorted. “So, you’re saying I have free reign to slash anyone I meet on the street into the ground? And there will be no repercussions? No time in the Clink? No penalties paid out in gold coins?” I inquired.

“Well, within reason,” the guard corrected. “We can’t have a free for all. There will be no assaulting the local constabulary, I can’t condone that sort of behavior. But, if you find scoundrel pirates and ne’er-do-wells causing mischief in the streets and take retribution on our behalf, then yes, I believe we can see clear of pressing any charges against you,” he affirmed.

“Brilliant!” I exclaimed. “Point me toward danger!”

Seeing my enthusiasm, the Prospector offered up my first commission.

“Since you’re in the mood to wave the steel around, I have an offer for you,” he said. “These blasted pirates ran me out of my home before I could my lucky nugget. What say you swing over to my place, rough up a few dirty scoundrels, kick a few of those unsavory chaps right where it hurts and bring my nugget back to me. My house is right over there,” he said pointing.

I looked at the guard for confirmation on dishing out retribution at the end of a flaming sword. His shrug of the shoulders was the very answer I was looking for.

“Very well, I will head that way, slash anyone who gets in my path and return this lucky nugget of yours in due time.”

This proved to be far more difficult than I first surmised as these ruffians travel in packs and fight in a most disagreeable style. As I approached what I believed to be the correct domicile, I was assaulted in the backside by not one, but three arrow wielding marauders. They were debilitating shots and extraordinarily uncomfortable in my still healing hindquarters.

Turning to defend myself, sword carrying ruffians leapt from the shrubs and set upon me. I was immediately and unmercifully outnumbered. But fire is the great equalizer and soon a couple of the roughs were smoldering at my feet.

I struggled to reach the ruffian archers, suffering the sling of their arrows. And when I got hold of them, my revenge was piping hot! We won’t go into the myriad vulgarities that ensued. It is sufficient to note I made my displeasure known and cast aspersions upon them, their family, friends and several other people who they may, or may not have known.

I then traversed the open pavilion and entered the dwelling. More surprises awaited as some undead had come home to roost. I had barely stepped inside when they went for my jugular, swinging like oafs, and smashing up the place.

Since it was already in disarray, I felt little guilt over further adding to the disheveled nature. Some lettuce, a bookshelf and a candelabra were swept up in my fury, but in the end, my Whirling Blades dispatched the entire horde. I will apologize for scarring the counter.

I then began to search in earnest. I marveled at the idea of finding a gold nugget worthy of risking my life, but nothing of the kind revealed itself. I looked in the drawers, under the bed, even in the storage room. I sawing nothing that matched the description. Those mangey pirates had already absconded with it!

But I had fleeced each one of them thoroughly and found nothing. I must be looking in the wrong place. And then, as I upset a stack of crates, and splintered a bookshelf rife with  bunkum novels, I found something.

“Want manner of trinket is this?” I asked finding a mounted rabbit on the floor. The small inscription read, “Lucky Nugget”.

“A rabbit? His lucky nugget is a rabbit? I’ve been hoodwinked! I’ve been flimflammed! This isn’t some outrageously sized gold nugget worthy of this level of destruction and mayhem. It’s a stuffed bunny! And the only good stuffed bunny is that of the Death Bunny!”

In a fury, I scooped up the rabbit trophy, tucked it under my arm, punched a ruffian so hard I looted his gold coins before his body hit the ground, and stormed off to see the Prospector.

But my rage softened as the Prospector was brought to tears at the sight of his lost compatriot.

“Oh, my Lucky Nugget!” he wept, dropping to his knees. “Here have some coins!” he said shoving a purse of coins into my hands. Then clasped the bunny to his breast and twirled like a child on a fine summer day. “Bless you Outlander!” he exclaimed then threw himself into a frenzied dance.

I was without words and watched in amazement as the old man gyrated in a bizarre, but hypnotic dance.

“Well then,” I said composing myself. “I’m glad I could be of service. But, perhaps I should move along and get on with the pirate smiting I shan’t be punished for. A good day to you, and my compliments on the fine dance move you’ve displayed this day. It was truly a sight to behold and something I won’t soon forget, of that I assure you.”

I then readied my sword and plunged into the heart of the city.

SotA_05-02-18_20-50_1

Ah ha! This must be the place. Random shanty, thugs hiding in the thicket, death around every corner. Onward to treasure and fortune!

SotA_05-02-18_20-51_2

What the what? This is no priceless chunk of gold ore! You are quite the trickster Mr. Prospector!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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