Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Awkward silence hung for a moment, punctuated only by the chittering and cautious calls of jungle creatures returning now the violence had abated. The lizard creature regarded them steadily, motionless save for the rhythmic contractions of the gill like slits behind its ears. It was obvious the creatures didn't mean instant violence but there was no way of knowing that the choice wouldn't be made soon. Emmaline stepped forward and took the creatures hand and shook it firmly the way Altdorf merchants did.

"Sotek" she told the creature, whose eyes blinked with two seperate sets of eyelids in what might have been confusion. It's hand was cool and dry like a lizards, though it pulsed with vitality in manner more remeniscient of more energetic creatures like frogs. Emmaline stepped past the creature and took the hand of the next creature shaking its hand also and repeating the word. One by one she greeted each of the warband in the same fashion, having no idea what she was doing but unwilling to stop a course of action that so far hadn't resulted in her being disemboweled.

"Sotek to you as well," she said to the last crocodilian of the group and then returned to Amal who was staring at her in shocked horror.

"What was that?!" he demanded in a hoarse whipser. Emmaline brushed her hand on her tunic and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well I didn't see you coming up with anything," she whispered back. The lizards continued to stand motionless though they looked a trifle less tense now. Perhaps they were just confused. Emmaline reached into Amal's purse and took out the map and walked over to the lizard with the headdress.

"Ummm... I don't suppose you could give us directions?" she asked, pointing to what she took to be the nearest of the pyramid cities. The lizard tilted its head at her in astonishment and then took the map from her hands, turning to face the other members of its warband. It held the map aloft hissed and clicked in its own language, waving the piece of parchment above its head like a battle flag.

"Sotek!" it thundered in conclusion.

"Horray for Sotek!" Emmaline echoed fighting the urge to giggle with suppressed terror.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Emmaline squeaked in very unwizardlike terror as the reeking rat things took Amal up on his challenge, wicked blade held to strike. For her own part Emmaline tried to think of a spell that would help but before she could do so the skaven were upon them Amal parried a spear thrust and stepped in close, slashing the first attacker across the neck. Emmaline shrank back as the creatures rushed forward chittering in anticipated triumph, one made a lung for her with its dagger but she skipped back and delivered clumsy backhand cut that opened a gash from shoulder to forearm in its matted fur. The thing howled, dropped its weapon and fled up the beach screeching. Another Skaven bounded forward and slashed at Emmaline, knocking the sword from her hands. Seeing her peril Amal grabbed the brute by the tail and yanked it into the fire. The oils in its filthy fur ignited with a soft whuummp and the thing screamed in agony making a staggering down the beach towards the ocean like a living torch, the stench of burning furn unbelievable.

"Advance to the rear quick quick!" the largest of the things chittered as Amal gutted another of the attackers with a quick upward thrust and ripping motion that sent coils of intestines spilling to the sand. The creatures needed little encouragement and turned to flee en masse. Emmaline, finally finding the presence of mind to focus incanted a spell and a beam of golden light shot from her hands burning a neat hole in the back of the creature who had given the command, dropping him smoldering to the ground, the whole in its breastplate glowing cherry red for a few moments where the spell had struck. A sudden silence descended on the beach broken only by the rawkus cawing of sea gulls and the equally strident objections of jungle birds as the surviving rats fled into the verdant forest. Emmaline sagged with exhaustion, fear and the aftermath of battle while Amal stood glaring into the jungle for long moments.

"What have we here?" Amal asked, stepping to the Skaven Emmaline had felled with a spell. The creature had a leather satchel around its waist. Not new but of better quality than the rude weapons and equipment that the other ratthings had carried. He tugged it free and opened it. Inside were several gold coins of Brettonian minting and a rolled parchment map. The map was not Brettonian, covered in strange glyphs symbols, but there were several notations on it that were clearly Brettonian and, unless Emmaline missed her guess, in the same hand that had filled the journal on the ship. The map showed several cities, or what Emmaline assumed to be cities, depicted as strange blocky pyramids.

"Do you think their could be people here?" Emmaline asked cautiously.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Emmaline returned the kiss hungrily, her full lips moving over Amal's as the book fell from her fingers into the sand. The remoteness of their situation made her feel safe both because they could expect not others to be near and because few animals would dare approach a fire. Even with the hunger and fear of their voyage on the raft, days of looking at Amal's naked form without any safe way to take advantage of it had enflamed her desires.

She wrapped her arms around him and allowed her body to meld to his now that they were safe on dryland, the heat and warmth of him next to her more pleasant and urgent than that of the small fire that snapped and crackled a few feet away. Inspite of herself she cast a superstitious glance at the sky, making sure no storm or other cataclysm was gathering this time.

"I'm not sure that Brettonian sailor is my best look," she giggled as he broke the kiss momentarily.

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Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"Mo oui, oue are so'gallant," Emmaline replied sweeping the hat off her head in an elaborate bow. Clothing offered a degree of protection to a civilized person that was beyond mere protection from the elements. Even so she gave Amal a playful pinch on the rump while he fiddled with the lock on the first chest using a rusted nail and a sliver of wood as improvised picks. The ship looked as though it had been reasonably well cleaned out, there was little in the way of tools and nothing in the way of supplies left, as though everything that the surviving crew could carry had been hauled out of the vessel. Emmaline could easily imagine the surviving crew gathering up everything they could for a march... somewhere. Unfortunately whatever navigational records or charts had guided the ship here were also long gone. It was clear that they were somewhere far to the west of Brettonia but where exactly that was, or whether there were any settlements here was beyond her knowledge. Perhaps the crew had merely been searching for a stretch of coast not ringed by shoals and rescue might be more likely. Or slightly less unlikely.

"Almost got it," Amal muttered as he fiddled with his lock picks. Emmaline drew back her foot and bought it down hard on the lock of the second chest, the hasp sprang free as the ageworn timber crumbled. Amal clicked the lock open on his own chest and looked at her critically.

"Well sure, but no points for style," he admonished. They both threw open their chests. Inside were an assortment of personal items, quills and paper, a leather bound book that looked to be the captains journal, an old hurricane lantern and some more clothing. More practically there were a pair of jeweled daggers and a short sword with a leather bound hilt. Emmaline's chest was less usefully stocked with several bottles of liquor a darning kit and some navigational equipment including an astrolade and sextant. These were of limited use without charts but Emmaline gathered them up and tucked them into a leather rucksack that lay neatly folded at the bottom. A further search of the ship revealed nothing much of use, though they did gather up some rope, some canvas and a few of the large metal decking nails before reluctantly wading back ashore.

The sun was already going down so they strung the rope between to palm trees to make a tent and Amal began to construct a fire. About halfway through he realised he didn't have anyway to light it, but Emmaline conjured a flame that set the kindling alight. She also was able to use a spell to stun some of the fish that ventured into the shallows and they prepared a meal of fish grilled on short sticks which seemed heavenly in comparison to days of hunger and the meager fare provided by the strange fruit. It might have been possible to fashion a pot from the metal they recovered using magic but such a feat was beyond Emmaline without proper preparation. Once they had eaten Emmaline tried to read the book by firelight. Her Brettonian was not really up to the challenge however and after divining that the name of the ship had been the Caroline and she was a merchant out of Bordeaux she had to give up the text as impenetrable.

"Well," she said at last as she lounged against a large log of driftwood beside Amal, walking her fingers up his chest absently.

"What do you think we should do?"

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Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

For a time their progress was terrifying, the speed at which they travlled was as fast or faster than a horse could gallop and at times they seemed to all but skip across the tops of the gentle swells. Emmaline and Amal both clung to the hatch as best they could. Trying to get a look at whatever beast dragged them was more than difficult as the foaming wake the thing left in its wake was opaque to Emmaline's eyes and she dared not open her magical senses for fear of disturbing the thing. As minutes stretched into hours though other problems began to present themselves, the sun was hot and their earlier activities had left them sadly bereft of any clothing. The solved this problem by sheltering together beneath the carpet which, rather reluctantly it seemed agreed to the treatment. Emmaline would have suggested they try to fly on the carpet but she knew that its endurance was limited and was obviously at the end of its tassels after having stayed aloft all night in the fierce storm. They resolved to try it only if the monster turned on them or other disaster threatened.

By the end of the second day, with sleep taken in short snatches during the night time hours, hunger became a torment. Emmaline, driven to risk her magic was able to purify handfuls of sea water for drinking but at the speed they were moving there was no practical way to catch fish. For the most part they tried to ignore it, huddling together and telling stories. Emmaline told Amal of the great cities and mighty forests of the Empire and of the dark and terrible things that dwelt there. In his turn he told her of his days as a thief in Araby and the many close escapes he had made over the years. Unfortunately despite their nakedness there was little opportunity to do more than occasionally tease each other physically, something that Emmaline freely admited she wanted to claim the bragging rights too. How many women afterall could claim to have entertained an Araybian thief while being dragged across the ocean by a sea monster?

On the forth day Emmaline awoke suddenly, the stabbing pain of hunger in her belly preceding her eyes. It was not Amal that woke her however, the raft it seemed had lost the speed it was accustomed to and drifted on natural current once more. There was a faint whiff of flowers and rot and a greenish smudge on the horizon, a few hundred meters ahead of them the water began to foam as it hit a reef of some sort.

"Ummmm..." Emmaline stammered and then shook Amal awake.

"By Allah!" he muttered as the current drew them toward the shoals at an ever increasing rate. He grabbed the carpet and shook it gently. The carpet seemed to stir from its own torpor.

"My friend it is not far can you manage it?" he asked hasitily, clearly uncertain, as Emmaline was, if they would be able to swim that far in their weakened states. The carpet snapped taught magnanimously and hovered a few inches above the improvised raft.

"Your chariot awaits," Amal declared in Araybian stretching his hand out to her. Emmaline took it and climed on.

"My camel does what?" she asked but before he could correct her mistranslated the carpet soared up and away. A few moments later the raft crashed into the shoals and stuck fast, sure to be pounded appart by the waves before long. The rose high enough that Emmaline could make out a vast expanse of greenish forest very different to anything she had ever seen, it was fringed with the most incredibly white sand she had ever encountered and a large river mouth forced its way out to the ocean like the mouth of a gaping serpent. Somewhat further up the coast another object caught her eye. Aground on a shoal was the remains of an ancient looking ship, half smashed apart by years of tides.

"Can you take us to the beach near there?" Emmaline asked, pointing with an outstretched finger. The carpet obeyed, zooming towards the indicated spot and a moment later it touched down softly on the beach. Emmaline and Amal both collapsed gratefully onto the sand huging solid ground for long minutes.

"We need to find food," she stated but Amal was already looking at some strange looking growths hanging from what appeared to be a kind of palm tree.

"What about those?" he asked.

It took fifteen minutes and several tries for Amal to recover one of the large green fruit. It appeared to Emmaline to be like a giant nut with no easy way to get into it. At last she resorted to magic.

"Stand back," she instructed and incanted a spell, slashing a blade of golden light with her fingertip that neatly bisected the fruit. Water spilled from the inside to reveal a hollow brown nut filled with bright white flesh. Amal looked at her and she tried another spell, searching for poisons. Nothing.

"It isn't poison that I can tell," she told him. Without another word Amal peeled out a chunk of white flesh chewed it and swallowed.

"Mmm its actually...pretty good," he managed around the mouthful. Emmaline took her half and began to eat equally ravenously.

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