Derek the Barbarian Chapter Two-Reclamation Near the Cliffs
Derek of the Gaels has grown older and stronger since that day when his people were wiped out by the Lords of Belhelmot. Now he seeks to wreak vengeance upon those pompous, bloated villains. He'll do so step by step and one of them is to release the stockpiles of those magebanes, Sky Iron weapons and armor.
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Two Years Later After Oaths of Iron in Snow
A great wolf stepped into the The Club and the Mug, a tavern in the middle of the town of Hallowton. He crossed the threshold of the building and strode silently and with ease towards the barkeep. "A mug of your finest mead" The wolf told the barkeep, a rather weary badger wiping some glasses. The badger looked up to see who had spoken. It was a heavily built wolf who had still not reached his twenties. Yet his arms and legs were thick with muscles gained from long travel and swift combat. The wolf's chest was as wide as a barrel with hard abs and solid pecs. A stern but youthful face that had clear yellow eyes returned the badger's gaze. The barkeep continued to eye the wolf; he saw that the canine bore two weapons, a pitted and scratched sword that nevertheless shone and a giant axe that looked as if it was forged yesterday. This youth was wearing naught but a loincloth and several leather straps and belts to hold what possessions the wolf had. Such clothing was relatively normal around these parts. Many a traveling adventurer from the wilderness had little need for armor, using their speed and reflexes to avoid harm. However this wolf's eyes were sharp as if burning with an inner cause.
"Coming right up Stranger" Bern, the badger said. He poured from the barrel's tap sweet fiery mead, golden as the sun and rich as many kings. "Who are you and what brings you to these parts?" Bern said. He turned back to his cleaning. Even while listening to customers cleaning needed to be done. However Bern made sure to clean a very heavy metal tankard. If this stranger gave him any trouble, it'll be nice to have something heavy in his hands.
"Derek from the North" The wolf said taking a long draught from his mug. The badger nodded, many who came from the North often removed much of their clothing for the weather was much warmer as they traveled South. Bern asked for what business brought a northern barbarian down to Hallowton. "I heard that a group caravan was traveling near here?" was what Derek told the Barkeep who frowned at those words.
"That is true, but they march under the banner of the Lords of Belhelmot." The badger said, anyone who bore the standard of that particular group was trouble. "They have guards and soldiers enough stranger, the caravan won't be hiring." To Bern's discomfort the wolf then gave a cruel smile.
"I will not be that worried, I will get what I seek. Where were they headed?" Derek said, and Bern answered that they were headed towards the city of Voinat home to the Lord Tewn, another acolyte of Belhelmot. What the caravan was transporting the badger didn't know but for some reason he had the strangest hunch that this wolf barbarian knew exactly what was being moved. It wasn't the barkeep's business though, the wolf paid in coin for the mead and Bern watched as Derek walked out the tavern door.
The caravan was sizable and the guards were numerous as well. Derek brooded for this would be more difficult than he expected. This transport, from the rumors that surrounded it had a stockpile of Sky Iron weapons and armor. For some reason the Lords of Belhelmot were gathering every trace of any tool that made this metal in their construction. The wolf fingered the great axe strapped behind his back. The only physical legacy that he still had of his father, the wolf wouldn't be using the weapon in this particular raid. First the barbarian had to snipe off as many guards as he could.
He did so over the course of several days, a couple of guards falling to Derek's arrows over this period of time. Then the guards became restless and jittery. Their numbers depleted from an unseen enemy, panic was flowing through their veins. Then early in the morning Derek struck without warning. A pitted but well cleaned sword was stained red countless times as it struck into the necks of the guards. The dirt drunk of the blood from the caravan's guardians and Derek stood there triumphant around the corpses of his enemies. The barbarian strode shaking the dust on the ground towards the wagons and opened the doors. Inside gleaming in the light were the weapons and armor of Sky Iron, unjustly seized by the Lords of Belhelmot but now liberated by the Northern wolf's hands.
Lord Twen acolyte of the second circle of Belhelmot was furious. This bear sat upon his heavily gold encrusted throne. His men had gathered a sizable amount of Sky Iron armaments and had lost them according to survivor reports of a wolf. That mystical metal Sky Iron, found only in stars that dropped from the heavens. The magical arts were severely weakened and made difficult with the presence and touch of this metal. The Lords of Belhelmot attempted to find a way to remove this menace to their power. However in spite of their experiments the only thing they found that could keep this metal from being used against them was to remove them from the populace. Now there were reports of some raids of resistance forces seizing back the Sky Iron. This report though stated that it was only one man. Lord Twen turned to his captain of the guard "Double the security, work double shifts!" The captain a Labrador nodded and turned to relay the orders. The bear slumped into his throne. One step at a time, the loss of the Sky Iron might lead to the culprit. If he got the culprit in hand, then he might be likely to be promoted to the third circle or if he was lucky the highest circle, the fourth. Lord Twen tapped the arm of his throne; yes this might be to his advantage.