Carven rose up from the fluffy covers to find himself in the inn. He stood up, brushed himself off, threw on his dark brown cloak and set off downstairs to the pub.
There were three people at the table including the innkeeper. The innkeeper was a husky old dwarf wearing a gray cobbler's uniform. He turned to one elf asleep in his soup, and bellowed, "I hoped you have enough for that soup and the stay".
The elf flew from the soup extremely quickly, but disoriented. From his swift jump, the bowl stayed on his like a helmet. As he tried to pull out his sword, it caught on his sheath. "Oh, its only you innkeeper. I thought I was in attack against the Chaos Dwarfs", announced the elf..
After that scene the pub was in a up-roar of laughter. "It will be 30 gold Traston", said the innkeeper.
Traston began to pick out the gold from his bag. With a dazed look upon his face, he said "I only have 29, can you put it on my tab"?
"Along with the other 30 you owe? I suppose so, but this is the last time" the innkeeper said in a annoyed tone.
Carven found a comfortable chair and sat down next to Traston. As Carven glanced at Traston, he jotted down a profile in the back of his mind.
Traston was draped in a blue garment. He had a puzzled, yet jolly look on his face. Traston smiled at Carven and asked, "Skaven? In this village? Wait-a-minute, you must be Carven the turncoat Skaven! Your name has been mentioned in every land from Lustria, to Bretonnia, to the Realms of Chaos. Your a hero to many children, and many Skaven children are following your wise ways".
"Well Thank-you. I didn't know I was that widely known", replied Carven. In the back of the pub was a Witch Hunter. He wore a Light brown overcoat, along with a black sleeved shirt, and black pants. His black hat hung a dark shadow over his stern face. He rose his arm, asking for another whiskey. As the innkeeper began to pour the drink, two outcast drops hit the tabletop, creating a smokey burn mark. The innkeeper then slid the drink to the end of the table, directly in front of the Witch Hunter.
Around twenty minutes later, the village awoke to the new day, and the streets were filled with merchants, customers, and travelers. When the pub was filled with many people, the Witch Hunter Announced a Message.
"I am Icabod. I am in search of a few good warriors, who would be willing to battle the Gods themselves, in a journey to disinfect the world of the Undead plague. If you are willing to join, come to my tent at the edge of the village, and I'll see how good your skills are". The people started to talk amongst themselves for a while, and then left to the Witch Hunter's tent.
At the tent, there were Targets for Archery, Pistols, and Knives, Stuffed dummies for weapon skills, and mats for wrestling and other fighting techniques. All the activities were in use by many men, and more people watching. The Witch Hunter Stood upon a stand and began to announce to the crowd his ideas. "My warriors, the hand full of you to go on with me to defeat the creatures who plague the world will be known for all time".
After those words the sounds of battle became much stronger. Both Traston and Carven soon came into the campsite. They approached the Witch Hunter with a grin on their face. "Excuse Me sir, but I wanted to know where to begin my friend and my skills test", asked Carven.
"You and your friend our the kind who plague us!! You are hiding your true corruption, just to gain access to our towns to find our secrets. And you, you must be a Dark Elf, pretending to be a High Elf Ranger. I know what you are trying to do. You must be trying to infect our Pack of warriors. Well you won't stop us, we will destroy you!!", Exclaimed the Witch Hunter.
After the comotion, Carven and Traston were forced out of the camp site. "Witch Hunters aren't that paranoid. I wonder what was wrong with him", said Traston.
"Lets pick up our belongings, and travel to the next settlement. Maybe their we won't be attacked by Witch Hunters", replied Carven. When the two returned to the village, every store slammed their doors to them as they passed, except for the pub. "We won't be long long as we collect our things Innkeeper", announced Carven.
"Don't worry, I'm not bitter, like the rest of the feeble-minded town is. I know you both quite well, and realize you aren't Scaven spies, or Dark Elves", said the Innkeeper.
"Well any way, we will be both leaving to another settlement to pick up some equipment, and head off questing to keep our minds off that stubbord Witch Hunter", explained Traston. The two warriors went up stairs to collect their things. About ten minutes later the two both carrying back packs walked over to say good-bye to the Innkepper.
"Here you go my friends, four waterskins of Ale; on the house. During the cold nights, it will keep you warm", said the Innkeeper as he handed over the ale.
"Thank-you", replied the warriors simutaniously. When they left the pub, night started to fall apon the town. It was the worst time to leave to another village. When they were outside town, Carven pulled out his map, and pointed out a city, and they both began to journey north. Each tree was like a demon about to grab them with its over-grown claws.
To Be Continued? If you want to see how this story turns out e-mail Nomad and tell him!