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I'm one of those cool dudes that think they're the only ones in the world that like newsboys, and they're actually not. Me? oh I don't like the city... no way. I like the country, nothing but it. Mad cartoonist also I am. Mad person also I am. I will be intelligent when hell freezes over, and all that sort of thing... ENJOY my blog
Chapter XXI
They pocketed the piece of black material and climbed upon their horses. They looked at the small massacre that they had done. Pools of Blood were seeping out from under the victims bodies, slowly growing bigger. They then rode onward into the almost setting sun. But Théron was not thinking of the onward march, or anything to do with it. When they had finally defeated the Quezillians He had heard the ear piercing scream of some creature, unknown to the world, Something unusual had made that scream. No doubt it was not a man, but some evil dark sounding scream with a slight hiss to it. The others seemed to be in conversation, and presently he started thinking of what lay ahead of him. They would get to the Bard that night, in fact, he could see the lights of his house on the far horizon. He hailed the others and told him he could see the lights and they nodded and Garathorn told him;
‘Aye we shall be there in maybe half an hour, I shall be glad to get into a shelter of some sort,’
‘And sit around a nice snug campfire’ added Gladroth.
At long last they reached the house, tightly nestled in a row of hedges.
The night was, by then, very dark and they could see firelight shining through the windows. They rapped on the door a couple of times until they heard a morose old voice from inside the log cabin. They looked at one another and wondered if this was the right house after all.
But presently they heard soft padding footsteps of feet wearing slippers. The door opened slowly and just enough for a head the poke itself out,
It was a roundish head with a form of nightcap in his head and a long bushy moustache accompanying a small beard. had also poked itself out from behind the door holding a candle. He asked them gruffly,
‘What do you want?’
Garathorn took of his cap and bowed slightly,
‘My companions and I would like lodging for the night,’ he said.
‘Well I don’t know who you are so you can get yerselves lost’
And with that, he slammed the door in their faces blowing a gust of wind in their faces. The man’s candle evidently blew out because he cursed silently and he mumbled something about; ‘blasted candles’
‘Well.. what a kind and good mannered person,’ said Gladroth in an acid manner.
They discussed the matter for a while, and then decided that they should tell him that they were from Èthrain.
This decided, they knocked on the door once more.
‘Shut up and go away yer beggars,’ came the gruff voice from inside. ‘Stop knocking on the Blasted door or I’ll knock yer ‘eds off’
‘Excuse me,’ said Garathorn Politely, ‘but may I be so bold as to say, that we are sent from Èthrain bearing a letter for yourself.
‘Ach, why didn’t yer say so in the first place,’ came the voice.
Immediately, the door opened and they were pulled inside rudely.
C-ya
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