Spring, 1326
Logan, Glib, De Troblaind, and the Potters were working their way across a bushy foothill meadow, now liberally carpeted with spring wildflowers when a call echoed across the clearing:
“What are you doing here, Logan Durham of Stanton? You rotten no-good enforcer pig!”
The group turned to see Liza Teuta, step out of the bushes with a dozen other fighters. The fiery Guester woman still had on her draping hat but now her saptha was in her right hand, her left hand now holding a large red-tailed hawk that screeched at the newcomers. Liza's fighters, armed with spears and bows, fanned out slowly attempting to encircle Logan’s party. The hunter pulled out his awlpike while Glib flicked out his knives and De Trobliand calmly drew his repeater crossbow.
“Do you remember me, Volscian? I told you you should! The Guester yelled, continuing her taunting as she moved on Logan, de Trobliand, Glib, and the Potters.
Glib took one look at the dozen odd well-armed rebels beginning to surround him and evaluated the odds. The ropemaker concluded his assessment and shrugged.
“We’d probably do well to run.”
Immediately he threw his knife at Liza, who easily deflected the projectile with her spatha, then dived into the bushes.
Instantly all was chaos. The rebel archers fired blindly at where Glib had landed, while those armed with melee weapons went after the Logan and the rest. Guester threw her hawk into the sky and charged at Logan, weapon raised in mid-swing. Sword and awlpike clashed. The saptha was heavy, Logan noticed, and Liza swung it like an axe, raining hammering blows against the hunter’s deflecting polearm. Liza noticed the hunter's evaluation and smirked.
“It’s a Frankish spatha. Passed down from my great-grandfather; and trust me, I know how to use it.”
As the hunter pushed back the Guester, there was a sudden scream and Liza’s hawk descended upon Logan, clawing and pecking at his face. The hunter broke contact, warding off the raptor with his weapon. The hawk broke off, only to descend again. Liza stood nearby mocking him.
“What is it hunter? Afraid of a little bird?”
Logan muttered a curse under his breath. Liza’s hawk flew off again, and with a yell the Guester charged at him. Swinging his awlpike to ward off Liza’s pet, Logan also ran towards the confrontation, only to stop when de Trobliand suddenly stepped in between the two fighters. The Normad held up his hand, stopping Liza mid-attack, and turned to the hunter.
“Logan; you should stop now.” The Normad quietly stated.
“What’s the meaning of this merc?” Liza snarled.
“The land is my right, doth no one but the Heavens take from me!” De Trobliand calmly replied.
“The king is my ruler but his head all may take from him!” Liza finished, abruptly lowering her spatha. “Welcome brother.”
Logan stared at the Normad in shock.
“Heavens. Don’t tell me you’re with these rebels as well? ”
“I have my reasons.” The Normad rested his repeating crossbow back on his shoulder and shrugged slightly. “You should join up Logan Durham-”
“Not in your life!” Liza snapped
The Normad ignored the remark. “The rebels could use someone like you. You know the land, and you’re resourceful. The Freeland Brothers are useful people to be friends with, and you’re not some lord or toady bootlicker. The best part is-” the Normad waved his arm around the meadow “You get friends and contacts everywhere.”
Logan looked to where the Normad was pointing. The Freeland Brothers were all around them, with Elder Potter and Sonia held off to one side. Glib was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn” was all the hunter could respond.
Liza walked up to the hunter, and pointed at his awlpike.
“Drop it.”
Logan frowned. “And what if I don’t?”
Liza pointed to the Potters. “They die.”
“You might kill all of us if I get rid of this weapon. What have I got for assurance?” Logan asked, continuing to eye the attackers around him.
“Our leader has requested that you remain alive.” Liza replied
Still gripping his awlpike he continued. “Fine. Let me talk to this leader of yours.”
“Funny. He asked the same thing about you-after first dropping your weapon.”
“Just do it, Logan.”
“Ugh fine.”
Bob Marley and the Wailers-Rebel Music
Incomplete work from thej3neral who unfortunately had some things come up. Now colored
Logan, Glib, De Troblaind, and the Potters were working their way across a bushy foothill meadow, now liberally carpeted with spring wildflowers when a call echoed across the clearing:
“What are you doing here, Logan Durham of Stanton? You rotten no-good enforcer pig!”
The group turned to see Liza Teuta, step out of the bushes with a dozen other fighters. The fiery Guester woman still had on her draping hat but now her saptha was in her right hand, her left hand now holding a large red-tailed hawk that screeched at the newcomers. Liza's fighters, armed with spears and bows, fanned out slowly attempting to encircle Logan’s party. The hunter pulled out his awlpike while Glib flicked out his knives and De Trobliand calmly drew his repeater crossbow.
“Do you remember me, Volscian? I told you you should! The Guester yelled, continuing her taunting as she moved on Logan, de Trobliand, Glib, and the Potters.
Glib took one look at the dozen odd well-armed rebels beginning to surround him and evaluated the odds. The ropemaker concluded his assessment and shrugged.
“We’d probably do well to run.”
Immediately he threw his knife at Liza, who easily deflected the projectile with her spatha, then dived into the bushes.
Instantly all was chaos. The rebel archers fired blindly at where Glib had landed, while those armed with melee weapons went after the Logan and the rest. Guester threw her hawk into the sky and charged at Logan, weapon raised in mid-swing. Sword and awlpike clashed. The saptha was heavy, Logan noticed, and Liza swung it like an axe, raining hammering blows against the hunter’s deflecting polearm. Liza noticed the hunter's evaluation and smirked.
“It’s a Frankish spatha. Passed down from my great-grandfather; and trust me, I know how to use it.”
As the hunter pushed back the Guester, there was a sudden scream and Liza’s hawk descended upon Logan, clawing and pecking at his face. The hunter broke contact, warding off the raptor with his weapon. The hawk broke off, only to descend again. Liza stood nearby mocking him.
“What is it hunter? Afraid of a little bird?”
Logan muttered a curse under his breath. Liza’s hawk flew off again, and with a yell the Guester charged at him. Swinging his awlpike to ward off Liza’s pet, Logan also ran towards the confrontation, only to stop when de Trobliand suddenly stepped in between the two fighters. The Normad held up his hand, stopping Liza mid-attack, and turned to the hunter.
“Logan; you should stop now.” The Normad quietly stated.
“What’s the meaning of this merc?” Liza snarled.
“The land is my right, doth no one but the Heavens take from me!” De Trobliand calmly replied.
“The king is my ruler but his head all may take from him!” Liza finished, abruptly lowering her spatha. “Welcome brother.”
Logan stared at the Normad in shock.
“Heavens. Don’t tell me you’re with these rebels as well? ”
“I have my reasons.” The Normad rested his repeating crossbow back on his shoulder and shrugged slightly. “You should join up Logan Durham-”
“Not in your life!” Liza snapped
The Normad ignored the remark. “The rebels could use someone like you. You know the land, and you’re resourceful. The Freeland Brothers are useful people to be friends with, and you’re not some lord or toady bootlicker. The best part is-” the Normad waved his arm around the meadow “You get friends and contacts everywhere.”
Logan looked to where the Normad was pointing. The Freeland Brothers were all around them, with Elder Potter and Sonia held off to one side. Glib was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn” was all the hunter could respond.
Liza walked up to the hunter, and pointed at his awlpike.
“Drop it.”
Logan frowned. “And what if I don’t?”
Liza pointed to the Potters. “They die.”
“You might kill all of us if I get rid of this weapon. What have I got for assurance?” Logan asked, continuing to eye the attackers around him.
“Our leader has requested that you remain alive.” Liza replied
Still gripping his awlpike he continued. “Fine. Let me talk to this leader of yours.”
“Funny. He asked the same thing about you-after first dropping your weapon.”
“Just do it, Logan.”
“Ugh fine.”
Bob Marley and the Wailers-Rebel Music
Incomplete work from thej3neral who unfortunately had some things come up. Now colored
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Human
Gender Female
Size 2550 x 3300px
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