Chapter two.
Brulk had known Mulk long enough to understand the man. He was a fighter, and not one you wanted to back into a corner. Gremk, on the other hand, was about as far different a man could be and still call himself a fighter. Brulk felt the haft of Khelem's javelin slap against his thigh. "What yer' thinking, chief?" hissed Khelem, his arm wrapped around Half-teeth's shoulders.
Mulk and Gremk must be tucked up inside the water-tower, Brulk reckoned, seeing as two red-faced Eglain hacked at the old door with felling axes. "Two of 'em losing a fight with the door.." He grumbled, peeking his face around the ruined stone wall. "Four more lying in the wait.. Don't see no bows, but I reckon they could toss a blade or two between 'em." He looked down, weighing the javelin in his hand. They always felt heavier before a fight, like throwing it would be no easier than throwing a tree trunk.
"Teeth.. Go back, and grab Riflin and Fen. Them boys look tired hacking away at that door, gives us a few minutes. Give's us a chance t' fight 'em six on six." Khelem nodded, as did Half-Teeth. "Right y'are, chief. Dont much fancy dragging Kust out o' the dirt, but I fancy joining him even less." grumbled Half-teeth as he hobbled off back through the gooey water.
"Yer think them lads'll give Teeth enough time t' get back t' the wagon?" came Khelem's voice. Brulk shook his, scoffing out a smile. "Nah, not a chance." Khelem nodded. "Aye, didn't think so neither. Weapons?"
"Weapons."
----------------------------------------------
"Quit whimpering!" hissed Mulk, weighing the long-knife and cleaver in his hands. Gremk's shoulders slumped with each thud against the door, long slits of light had started to cascade crossing lights across the dusty floor infront of him. "Draw that sword, dammit." came Mulk's voice again. Gremk had as good as forgotten it, hanging limpy around his waist. He could hear shouting outside, coming from their attackers. He couldnt make it out fully, but they still believed Mulk and Gremk to be the only Creoth in Ost Haer. An axe ripped a slat from the door, and it's puffy faced wielder glared through at them. Mulk rushed forward and the man paniced, jerking at his axe but the head had lodged in the cross-bars reinforcing the door. Mulk took his moment and rammed his long knife through the axe-man's skull. A voice nearby, Mulk figured it was the second axe-man, gave a cry and the thudding against the remains of the door came even harder and faster. Wouldn't be long now, figured Mulk, Wouldn't be long now.
----------------------------------------------------
"Now" hissed Brulk, gripping his javelin over his shoulder. He grunted as the shaft left his hand and thudded into his foe's back. A wiry man with a sword and shield. Khelem's hit it's mark shortly after. Three down, noted Brulk, dragging the heavy blade from his sheath. He surged forward, wading through the almost waist high water. His tongue was stuck from his mouth, and he was shouting. "AHHH!" was all the noise he could make, but he figured it was loud enough. Khelem moved beside him, weapon at the ready though much more composed. The axe-man stopped his fight with the door, and instead had begun plunging the long axe through the door in hopes of jabbing those inside. Two men on the steps backed away alittle, taken by surpise at the sudden change in odds. One had a large mace and round shield, and the other a sword and axe.
Brulk glanced at Khelem for a moment. It looked as though his second had chosen his foe, leaving Brulk the mace-man to content with. "Right y'are" he mumbled, jutting his shield to signal his challenge. Brulk didn't give the man chance to refuse, and rushed at the steps. Sword felt heavy, reckoned Brulk. No change there. He brought it up and arced it down at the mace-man. His blow was knocked aside by the shield, and a mace swung across at chest height. They blow was strong, but lacked skill. Brulk avoided it without much trouble, and lashed out with his shield in return. "AHHHH!" he roared, his tongue had rolled back into his mouth. The Eglain crumbled back, and Brulk took the opportunity to lung his sword though him. The blade slipped through his abdomen and out his thigh, blood gushed from between them as he tore his blade free.
He looked up to the door just as the axeman thudded forward into it. An arrow lodged in his spine, green-dyed fletchings trailing from it's haft. Riflin, reckoned Brulk. A howling laughter came from behind. Sure enough, Riflin was perched on the one dry mound of stone in the courtyard with his shortbow in hand. Fen was nursing Half-Teeth in the gateway. An grim looking scowl set into his face. "Knew yer' wouldnt let us down, Teeth." chuckled Brulk, hawking up a mouthful of phlem and emptying it onto the steps. "Mulk! Gremk! You in there, lads?"
"Aye, we're here chief." came Mulk's voice from inside. "Yer' going t' wanna come inside."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Shit." Brulk heard his own voice, and his own head shaking. Bodies filled the floor the towers second floor. Dozen's of them, and burnt to a cinder. "Not the oddest thing here, chief." came Fen's voice. He was squatted down beside a couple potatoe sacks, stitched up together as body sacks. "These lads been dead too long for cremation.." He jabbed at the bones infront of him with a knife. "A few years too long."
"What d'yer reckon the Eglain been doing here then, chief?" asked Gremk, looking fearful as ever. Brulk frowned down at the corpses, shaking his head. The haft of Khelem's javelin tapped it's usual spot at the back of his knee. "Chief?" came his voice.
"Kust. We're here t' find Kust. None o' this matters. Any issues?" Nobody spoke out, but Brulk could see a few grumbly faces about the crew. "Good. Let's get on 'fore someone steals out wagon, eh?"
