Posted on 2007/06/17

Joe manages to keep the stables going for another two days, until Alun emerges, still a bit pale and shaky, but otherwise recovered.

“I hear you’re something of a hero,” he tells Joe.

Joe tries to protest that he’s nothing of the sort, but the other stablehands are right there, grinning and contradicting him at every turn. Eventually, he stammers to a halt and glares at them.

Alun shrugs. “Hero or not, you saved the stables. I’d have been in big trouble if they had gone up in smoke. Don’t know what I can do to show my thanks, but I’ll do what I can.”

By this point, Joe is trying not to squirm with embarrassment. All he can think of, is that life was never this complicated when he was sleeping outside, and he admits that he’d like to get out of town sometimes (thinking that maybe that would simplify things).

Alun just nods and says that he might be able to wangle Joe into a few delivery slots every now and then. Will that do?

Joe just nods and tries to edge away, but the next thing Alun says stops him in his tracks.

“When you go,” Alun says casually, “you’d better take Nipper with you. You’re the only one who can handle him.”

Joe gulps at the thought of having Nipper right there, right beside him all the time and wonders if he hasn’t made the biggest mistake ever…

Posted on 2007/06/20

As the days tick past and Joe chooses the things he wants to have when he is on the road (a traveller’s outfit, a pack saddle for Nipper, travel rations, feed etc) he finds that more and more people seem to have heard about his fight with the thieves - and most of them consider him a local hero.

As the tailor making his clothes says, “Them adventurers that knock around town mess things up for us. You deal with your own problems and leave everything sorted and tidy. Besides - you work for your bread. They just swans around tossing out money if they want something. Course if they're going to be tossing that money around I reckon it should be us as works that gets it, don't you?” He hands Joe the finished clothing and waits for him to try it on.

Awed to the point of silence by the first new clothes he's ever owned, Joe pulls them on one by one. He has a white shirt, blue jacket and breeches, brown ankle boots, brown leather belt and a long, grey, hooded cloak. Everything fits so well and feels so fine, that he is sure he must look like a noble - or a rich adventurer.

It's nearly three weeks since the thieves attacked when Alun calls Joe aside and tells him that there is a delivery that needs a driver. “A mule cart,” he says. “Going to Caslen Village with a load of food and spices. Think you're up to it?”

Joe swallows and then nods. In these clothes, he feels ready for anythng.

Alun nods back and starts giving directions which seem to consist mostly of 'follow the road out of the east gate until you arrive at the village'. He adds “You have a 1 sack share, of course. Have you thought what you might put in it?”

When Joe looks blank, Alun informs him that the teamsters mostly make their money using their 'trade share', a certian volume of goods that they are permitted to take along in their cart or wagon to trade on their own behalf.

When he finally understands, Joe just shakes his head. He didn't even know trade shares existed. How could he possibly have thought up what he can take to trade? For this time at least, he decides, he will just have to go emptyhanded. Although maybe he could catch some skins or something while he's on the move…

Posted on 2007/06/28

Joe sets off from Freetown at first light, doing his best to sneak away without being noticed. Driving the mule and with a disgruntled (and laden) Nipper tethered to the back of the cart, Joe makes good progress along the road and into the forest.

He stops slightly early and spends the extra time before dusk setting a few snares in the faint hope of catching some rabbits that he can skin and trade.

He unloads Nipper (avoiding those teeth as best he can) and grooms both him and the mule before tethering them for the night. Lying back in his bedroll after his meal, he links his hands behind his head and stares contentedly up through the branches at the stars. No fuss, no one staring at him with hero-worship in their eyes, no problems to deal with. Bliss!

Having actually caught a rabbit in his snares, he collects them all up and moves on through another quiet day - although he is now nursing a badly bruised arm. Nipper did not appreciate being loaded up again!

The second night passes much the same way as the first, but in his snares the next morning, Joe finds two rabbits and a thick furred cat! With delight he quickly prepares the skins for sale and sets out again, wrapping his cloak around him against the chill of the morning and fastening it with his cloak brooch.

As he enters Caslen Village on the afternoon of the third day, a young girl stares at his brooch and an equally young boy asks with awe, “Are you Fireman Joe? The one that tamed a demon horse…”

Posted on 2007/07/06

Joe shrugs at the children, “Well,” he says, “the name's certainly Joe, but I don't have a horse, only the pony and mule you see.”

“Aww,” they say, disappointed. “Can we pet the pony, then? When he's unloaded?”

“You can pet the mule if you want,” Joe tells them, “but the pony's rather free with his teeth - bite your fingers off if you're not careful.”

The first children giggle and hide their hands in their armpits as other children come out to run alongside the cart and guide Joe into the main village square. Almost as soon as he comes to a halt and jumps down from the driving seat, they mob the mule, which just stands there, stolidly flicking its ears and sticking its nose into extended hands to see if there is anything to eat. One or two even tentatively pat Nipper, jumping back when he stamps a hoof or swings his head round.

While the village adults come swarming out of the weaponsmith and armorer guildhouses to unload the cart, Joe points out which crate and sack holds what - and makes sure to stand by Nipper's head ready to grab him if he starts acting up. After answering a number of called questions, he also manages to sell off his pelts - although not for as much as he hoped for.

Finally, the cart is empty and Joe heads for the tiny inn leading Nipper and the mule. After he explains Nipper's tendancies to the stable-boy, the boy is definitely happy for Joe to groom Nipper himself.

Joe trades the fresh rabbit meat for a bed and a hot meal, although remembering what happened last time he ate at an inn, he keeps a tight hold on his mug.

Next morning, new crates are loaded into the cart and more feed and trail rations are loaded onto Nipper and Joe sets out for Freetown again. As mid-afternoon approaches, he turns into the first edges of forest and slows down to ease the cart over the ruts and roots in the road.

At that moment, three goblins step out of the bushes. Two lift and aim javelins at Joe, while the third snarls, “Give us your weapons cargo!”

Joe eyes up the distance to them and delibarately drops Nipper's lead rein. “I'm sorry,” he says, “but perhaps you haven't heard. There's a demon horse around - and it gets hungry.” And he signals Nipper to attack…

Posted on 2007/07/11

The goblin spokesman leers at Nipper. “Well, hello, dinn-aaargh!”

Nipper’s teeth nearly meet through the goblin’s face and neck and the goblin shrieks with pain, hauls a morningstar out of his belt and clobbers Nipper with it.

Nipper squeals and lets go. He tosses his head up and down and circles the goblin, teeth bared for another bite. As Nipper moves out of the way, Joe hurls a knife, but it bounces uselessly off the goblin’s leather armor.

The two goblins with javelins both hurl them at Joe, who ducks in vain. One javelin skims painfully across his back and the other jabs into his leg. He pulls it clear and scrabbles out another knife.

Nipper makes another vicious snap at the goblin spokesman, making the goblin leap back out of the way and flail wildly at him.

As the other two goblins charge towards Joe, he hurls a dagger at the front runner, only to see it stick in the goblin’s wooden shield.

Nipper snaps out again and Joe hears bone break as the goblin crumples in a lifeless heap. His hooves lash out at the two passing goblins, but hit only air.

Joe aims his next dagger carefully and with satisfaction sees it flash through the gap between shield and armor to bury itself in the goblin’s throat, taking him down at once.

The remaining goblin shrieks and wavers from Joe to Nipper and back. Just as he makes up his mind and lashes wildly at Joe, Nipper takes advantage of the staionary target and slams both hind hooves into it.

The goblin sails through the air, slams head-first into a tree and slides down it to the ground, unmoving.

Joe stays where he is for a long moment, watching for any more goblins that might appear, but when nothing happens, he slides down from the cart and limps over to the bodies to retrieve his daggers. After a bit of thought, he also ransacks their pockets and strips their armor and weapons for his '1 sack share'. He finds two sealed flasks and stows them carefully in his belongings and dumps the money purses in his belt pouch without bothering to count them.

After hauling the bodies off the road, he picks up Nipper's leading rein, climbs back up onto the cart and sets off again, hoping that he hasn't been delayed long enough to make him late…

Posted on 2007/07/21

Joe pushes on into the evening to make up time and ends up using his lanern to see by as he sets up camp and checks Nipper over for damage. There are a few bruises and cuts but nothing that won't heal with a few days rest.

While he is waiting for his meal to cook, Joe examines the flasks he took off the goblins and finds an image of a flame stamped into the seal of each flask. Deciding that he doesn't want to meddle with strange fire-related flasks, he very carefully puts them away again.

He also checks the leather armor for holes that need mending and cleans the worst of the dirt and blood off it before stowing it more neatly in a corner of the cart and dragging the stew pot off the fire and starting to eat.

Next morning, he limps through his usual routine and makes sure to pad Nipper's injuries before loading him up. Nipper looks at him and tosses his head irritably, but doesn't try to bite.

“I see you bit those goblins enough times yesterday to satisfy you for a while,” Joe mutters under his breath. “Does that mean I have to line up a goblin every time I want you to stand quietly for harnessing?”

Nipper just tosses his head and snickers back.

Travel goes quietly, but as Joe is getting ready for his second night back, something rustles in the bushes nearby. Joe drops a hand to his nearest knife and demands “Who's there!”

No answer, only more movement and scuffling sounds. Listening carefully, Joe thinks that it is only one creature and looking across at Nipper, he sees that Nipper's ears are pricked up in interest, but that Nipper is only looking in one direction.

Taking a chance, Joe draws his knife and, holding it in one hand, warily parts the branches of the bush with the other. Caught by a bramble through its collar is a thin, scuffy dog. It scrabbles uselessly at the ground and then, with an effort, turns pleading, pathetic eyes up to Joe…

Posted on 2007/07/27

Joe moves to try and pry the bramble loose from the collar, but when the dog sees the knife coming down at it, it tries so hard to get away that it chokes itself into semi-consciousness.

Joe looks down at the dog, slips the knife back into its sheath and props the dog high enough that it can breathe again. Prising and cutting at the bramble doesn't seem to work (and earns him a scratched hand from all the thorns) so he fetches his leather working tools and uses them to cut through the collar itself. He peels the cut collar from around the dog's neck, picks up the dog itself and staggers clear of the bushes with it. He cleans the dog up as best he can and coaxes it into taking some water and a strip of dried meat from his trail rations.

Leaving it by the edge of camp to continue to recover on its own, he goes back and digs the collar itself free to see if there are any clues on it to the dog's owner. Close inspection by lantern light, however, reveals that the emblem on the collar is the mark of the same lord who had him kicked off the farm…

Posted on 2007/08/01

Joe starts setting up some stew, looks at the dog and makes extra. Looking at his depleted rations, he decides he’d better set out some snares tonight - if only to make sure he’s got enough food to last through tomorrow.

Crouching to ruffle the dog’s shaggy grey fur and check it over, he gets thoroughly licked before he pushes it off. “Guess you can’t help having a rotten owner,” he tells it, giving it a last pat and standing up, “but sure as shades, I’m not marching up to his front door with you, and I never saw much more than the common hall at the Harvest Feasts. Pity you can’t tell me where your kennels are.” He stirs the stew as he passes, makes sure that Nipper and the mule are secure, and slips away to set some snares.

Woken well before dawn by the dog sticking its cold nose down his ear, Joe crawls grumpily out of his blankets and stomps off to see if his snares have caught anything. Two haven’t caught anything, a predator of some sort has raided the third and the last has only caught a young squirrel. He’s going to be hungry, with the dog to feed too.

He skins the squirrel anyway and tosses the meat to the dog, which gobbles it down, before bolting the last heel of his bread himself and preparing to set out for the last section back to Freetown. He has to lift the dog up into the cart before he climbs up himself and signals the mule to start.

They reach the edge of town just as dusk is closing in and barely manage to get through the gates before they are closed for the night. Joe makes his way through the darkening town to the stables, where Alun greets him with a smile and asks him how the trip went.

Joe shrugs. “All right. I caught some furs going in and I managed to pick up a few things coming back as well.”

“Good,” Alun says. “Tuck the cart under cover and we’ll get it unloaded in the morning.”

Joe nods, obeys and lets the dog slip down from the cart under cover of the gathering darkness. “I’ll just settle Nipper,” he says, knowing that that will be one thing that keeps Alun far enough away not to notice the dog, and leads both pony and dog to the usual stall. “All right, Nipper,” he says, once all three are inside it. “This is a dog. Don’t eat it, don’t kick it and don’t stomp it flat. I want it alive in the morning.”

Nipper bends his head and looks down at the dog.

The dog tilts its head up until they are nose to nose, and they stand like that for some time, while Joe crosses his fingers and braces himself to plunge into a fight.

Finally, Nipper sneezes at the dog, lifts his head and turns his attention to his haynet.

Joe takes a deep breath and leaves them to it, hoping that nothing will happen before he has had a chance to think things through and decide what to do with the dog…

Posted on 2007/08/08

Joe takes his sack and his one sack share and goes back to sleep in the loft, but he finds that he now feels something of an outsider up there. He slips out before many of the others are up and about, feeds Nipper quickly, and sneaks the dog out of the stables.

As soon as the town gates open, he heads quickly back towards his old lord's manor and the farm he used to call home with the dog at his heels. He takes off his brooch as he walks and stuffs it into a pocket so that it isn't obvious who he is if the lord decides make accusations, and skirts around the edge of his father's farm trying not to look at it.

When he finally reaches the manor house, its mid-morning. He chews his lip for a minute or two, trying to muster enough courage to actually go into it, and notices that the dog is eager to be off around the side.

He reaches down and pats it. “Go on, then. You show me.”

The dog races off and Joe follows it slowly. He relaxes slightly when he turns the corner and sees that the dog is making for a lower, plainer block of buildings rather than the imposing mass of the manor itself.

With an excited yelp, the dog whisks round another corner and hurtles through an open door. Joe reluctantly follows, but stops just outside the doorway, hesitating and chewing his lip again.

“Deski!” a man inside cries with delight. “You came back!” He doesn't sound anything like the lord that Joe remembers from the harvest feasts. In fact, he doesn't sound like anyone that Joe knows, but as he and the dog emerge out of the shadows inside, Joe sees that this man is wearing plain woollens much like his own clothes.

The man raises a quick eyebrow at Joe and asks, “You found her? Brought her back?”

Joe nods. “She was caught in some bushes near the road.”

“Much appreciated. By me, anyway. Don't know what his High-and-Mightiness will say about it, but he ain't barely stirred out of bed yet.”

“His High-and-Mightiness?” Joe repeats.

The man jerks his head towards the manor. “Him as lives there. He owns these dogs. Me, I'm just the poor bloke as breeds, feeds, walks, cleans, trains, leads, loves and misses them.” He tilts his head on one side. “You like dogs?”

“I get on with most animals,” Joe says cautiously.

“Want one?” the man asks. “Only his High-and-Mightiness was mighty miffed when some farm dog got at his best war-bitch before the pedigree beast went in. Told me to get rid of the puppies.” He grins. “Didn't tell me how to get rid of them though, so I'm giving them to anyone as wants one. They're nice creatures even if they ain't the pure-breds he ordered.”

Joe nods slowly ands grins. Something to get back at the lord who kicked him out of his home, and something to remember home by. “Go on then,” he says. “Lead me to them…”

2007/8/15

Joe follows the man round to a shed behind the main kennels and suddenly comes knee to nose with three lolloping pups, currently all head and large paws. All three are a patchwork of black, brown and grey fur, with bright eyes and ears that flop at all the wrong angles. They race round him and he stands very still so that he doesn't end up treading on any of their paws.

The smallest of the three bounces up at Joe a few times and then sits down firmly on his left foot.

The kennel-master grins. “Looks like she's picked you for her master. She's the brightest of those left as well. What do you think?”

Joe crouches down and gently pushes the pup until it rolls on its back to be tickled. It's mostly brown and grey brindle underneath, although its back is almost entirely a smooth blue-black. When he stands up again, it rolls back to its feet and peers up at him from under a floppy ear. He shrugs. “Yeah, she's a nice dog. As good as any. Anything particular I should know about her?”

“She's weaned and house-trained - older than many pups for sale as you can see - and she eats pretty much anything she can lay tooth to. Other than that, she's as you see.” The man grins as Joe picks her up. “What you going to call her?”

Joe looks again at that blue-black coat. “I think,” he says, “I'll call her Bramble…”

Posted on 2007/08/27

Joe ends up carrying Bramble most of the way back to town. As he walks he thinks over what he'll do with the money from his 1 sack share. The possibilities are daunting. He's never earned so much money at once in all his life! He could even buy his very own mule and cart if he wanted to!

Feeling the javelin cut across his back start to sting again under Bramble's weight and remembering how his daggers bounced off the goblins' leathers, he thinks perhaps it might also be good to have something thicker than a bit of cloth and padding between his skin and incoming weapons.

Just before he reaches the edge of town, he puts Bramble down and pins his brooch back in place before he walks in through the gates as if he still has the same dog with him as when he went out. Once through, he ducks down one of the narrow lanes and out of sight before any of the gate guards can call him back and ask why his dog has shrunk.

Slipping quickly in and out of the stables to retrieve his 1 sack share, he retorts to the other stablehands asking where he's been, “I had to see a man about a dog!”

He moves on through the market and the surrounding small shops and after some haggling manages to sell the javelins and morning stars to a second-hand stall. He does a little better with the leather armor. Knowing what he is talking about - and keeping a sharp eye out for the stalls that are selling leather fastest - he trades in the goblin armor for a slightly battered set his own size.

Finally, Joe looks up an alchemist and (after a few coins change hands) learns that the goblin flasks hold alchemist fire and that breaking them will cause them to catch fire. Joe thinks about that for a few minutes and decides that he will keep them - but not in the same bag as his new clothes…

This game is DMed by Heros_Backpack from the wizards.com boards. He holds the copyright to all content.

Here's the original thread, complete with comments from other posters.