《Rolf The Barbarian Battlemage》Chapter 12: Adamantine Cricket
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The three traveled in silence for another few hours and then Rolf spotted the dark smokes in a distance.
"Look!"Rolf pointed a finger at it.
Orisha furrowed her brow deeply as she reckoned that the smoke came from roughly where her village was located.
"Please, hurry. Sir Benmar." Orisha plead anxiously; she felt her heart swelled in her chest and knocked her ribs. Her younger brother was still there, and her mother.
Benmar cracked the whip and urged the mud-mare to hasten its gait.
The mud-horse was a powerful beast and so it gained speed with ease. Rolf and Orisha held onto the rail as the ride started to become bumpy. Orisha didn't look away from that puff of smoke ahead. The air started to smell more and more like soot and burnt tar by the second. She wished that it was just a house fire, a careless housewife forgotten to put out the cinder in the fire place, that's all.
Then they heard clangor somewhere in the smoke, it came to the them by fits and starts at the behest of the wind. Benmar had a bad feeling about this, so he reined the mud horse to a halt. The mud horse neighed with a high pitch voice and Benmar hurried to put a hand on the horse to calm it.
"Steady old girl." Benmar whispered into the mare's ears.
"Let's walk on foot, be careful lads. I don't like the look of it." Benmar said as he turned back to the passengers.
The promise of new danger excited Rolf. He would finally got a chance to prove himself. Perhaps, Orisha might start to think differently of him.
"You said you were a hunter, right? Here, take this." Benmar handed his cross bow over to Orisha. "Not a bow, but close enough."
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The cross bow felt heavy in Orisha's hand. It's limbs were made from two slivers of black steel curved into the shape of a crescent moon. A copper trigger that set into the oaken stock shined under the sunlight. Unlike the thin and sinewy strings on a blow, the cross bow strings were thick hemp cords that lacked any elasticity. Everything about this machine indicated that it packed a hefty punch. Although Orisha wasn't use to using such heavy ranged weapons, it would have to do for now.
Benmar swayed one left over the mare's back and unmounted with surprising grace. From under his caravan cart, Benmar pulled out another weapon. Rolf's eyes glinted when he saw the glinting edge of the bastard sword. He reached out for the sword but Benmar yanked the blade away from him.
"This is mine!" Benmar said hotly. "You take this."
Benmar reached into his rob, and fished out a small dagger and handed it over to Rolf.
Rolf stared at Benmar incredulously. The sword was almost taller than the dwarf.
"Keep your eyes peeled and wits about." Benmar said.
Orisha nodded but Rolf snorted in protest, his eyes still glued to the bastard sword.
"Why don't both of you stay here while I deal with whatever trouble lays ahead? " Rolf's voice was lace with conceit.
"You —" Benmar rose to the suicidal suggestion, but Rolf cut him off.
"Don't worry about me. I have killed a Yeti before, I'm sure I will be fine." Rolf said with a cock sure smile.
He tossed the dagger back to the cart and without waiting for a reply from his companions, Rolf sauntered toward the village.
"I hope you chock on that thunk of iron, little man!" Rolf grunted as he passed Benmar. From under his cloak, Rolf produced the weapon that he had carried with him: a crude stone hammer.
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Orisha shook her head while Benmar heaved a sigh of disappointment.
"Idiot!" Benmar cursed. He carefully picked up the dagger and handed it over to Orisha. It was light, Orisha felt, lighter than feather. She brought the dagger closer to her face to examine and she gasped.
Under the sunlight, the dagger made out of Adamantine steel glinted a shimmer of blue.
Rolf approached the village as he would to a den of wolves. He found the direction of the wind and went against it. The scent of smoke and something musty and truly awful hang thickly in the air. Soon he reached the ridge that hugged the outskirts of the village. Winds brought bits and pieces of voices over the hill and into Rolf's ears; some were human, some beastly.
The village was just over the hill; Rolf wagered that it would be too conspicuous to stand right on top of the ridge, so better to find a cover. Rolf scanned the hill top and found a patch of dog wood bush; he quickly closed in and hide behind it.
At the top of the hill, Rolf could hear things much clearer now. There were the click and clanks of metal, hissing and cracklings of flames, thuds of heavy footsteps and frightened sobbing.
Curiosity besting circumspection, he poked his head out of the dogwood bush just enough to peek at the village down the hill.
The entire village was on fire, thus explained the smoke. Houses were broken in and set aflame; dark smokes billowed out from broken windows and doors. In between the smokes, Rolf could see some dead bodies on the ground; a few men and a young woman. There were man-like creatures walking about at the center of the village. One glimpse revealed that they were half man and half rat with pointy faces that came straight out of nightmares.
"Stakors!" Rolf screamed in his mind.
The smokes were too thick to see through, in order to get a better view, Rolf slunk and slide toward the village. The smoke had protect him and soon he reached a house that was untouched by fire. Rolf gingerly hauled himself onto the roof and lay flat on his belly as he observed these ugly humanoids.
These were about the same height as an average human, but their head and shoulder hunched over, making them look slight shorter. Their back were covered with matted and patchy fur while their belly were hairless and folded into a hundred wrinkles. The head of the Stakors were the size of a two fists, and were devoid of human traits. Covered with short but course bristles, their head was narrow and pointy; two unblinking eyelid-less eyes with the size of small black peas set on both sides of an oversize nose ridge. Their mouth looked more like that of canine than rotten, it was wide and brimming with filed teeth. Two large fangs set in the lower jaw protruded out from their mouth, leaving the mouth in a permanent gaping.
Steams rolled out from these creature's mouths and even from a distance, Rolf could sense the hint of putrid odor that came from those murderous holes.
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