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The Misfits of DametreosChapter 10: Willem
Willem Blackcloak sharpened his daggers as he heard the news from a lieutenant. A group of travelers had entered the Wolfpack lands and had managed to scrape through one of the traps.
Evidently one of these men has been around here before... Willem pondered, Probably a Forestman. They are the only ones who can avoid those things.
“Perhaps you should go out and check on this yourself?” asked the lieutenant.
“Perhaps I shall…” Willem answered.
It would be good to see these people. It’s not everyday someone is brave enough to come here. We’ve gained quite the bad reputation. Willem thought, Probably be good to see a Forestman cousin.
Willem had made up his mind. He took his cloak off the rack and put it on.
“I’m going out to check on these people. You stay here and guard the area.” Willem ordered.
With that, he exited the tree-outpost and melted into the shadows of the trees.
Willem walked quietly through the forest. It was a few miles west of here where the travelers had been last spotted.
Perhaps I went too far... he thought, puzzled.
Then he heard a twig crack nearby. Quickly, he dived into a bush. A few minutes later, he saw a small party of people pass by. One appeared to be wearing the Bulls crest, and another the Falcons.
Well... isn't that odd... Willem thought, A Bull and a Falcon walking together.
In addition to the Bull and Falcon, there appeared to be another person who seemed to be of no faction and an old wanderer of the Forestman's crest.
Bjarn! Willem thought, He hasn't been around these parts for a while. No wonder they managed to dodge that trap. I doubt these people know how good a guide they have...
He followed the party for a short distance, playing for time.
What should I do with them? he pondered, Perhaps for now I will just follow. If they need help, I'll come out of the shadows. Perhaps tonight I will talk to Bjarn. Only once everyone else is asleep... he should know about the strange happenings lately...
It was near midnight, Bjarn was on watch. Seeming never to tire, the old loner was carefully fletching arrows while keeping his ears ready to hear the smallest whisper.
Speaking into the darkness, Bjarn said “Many years have pass since I saw you last Willem Blackcloak.”
A dark figure drifted out of the blackness. The ruler of the Wolfpack clan sat himself beside Bjarn and smiled. “How did you know it was me?”
“The smell.”
Bjarn rarely cracks jokes, thought Willem, He must be in a good mood.
“What brings you to the realm of Wolfpack?” he asked out loud.
Bjarn's eyes glinted in the firelight. “‘Tis a long tale…”
After relating the entire epic, everything from the meeting of Lord Barbod and Reno down to the fight with the pirates dressed in Forestmen garb, Bjarn sat back and watched the Wolfpack leader.
“That is quite a tale,” stated Willem thoughtfully, “You four have been through much.”
“Have you any idea on location of Reno's pendant?”
Blackcloak thought for a moment.
“The pendant of which you speak is most likely in the greedy hands of the pirate Burtrand Storm-Rider. His ship the Hornet left the Falcon Harbor yesterday morning. My spies report a body was hanging from the yardarm when the anchor was raised and the ship departed.”
“A disloyal shipmate?”
Blackcloak nodded. “Perhaps one who kept a treasure from the captain.”
Bjarn eyes narrowed. “Any idea where the Hornet is headed?”
Willem nodded. “Burtrand Storm-Rider always sails to the Black Knight Isles to drop off his slaves and loot before sailing again.”
Bjarn smiled grimly. “It looks like my companions and I are headed south.”
“Perhaps I could come with you, if you have no objections. I can supply some valuable information from my networks, and I need to check on some informants.” Willem replied, “The pack can generally take care of itself, and I haven't been around home for a while anyway.”
Bjarn scratched his beard and smiled. “Thank you. Your presents is great appreciated. This may seem like small quest to find a necklace and a lost brother, but I feel there is something much more serious happening the world.”
Barbod came silently from behind the two talking.
“So this chap will be joining us then, eh?”
He indicated Willem, “So, you are the leader of the Wolfpack...how bout that, you little puppy.”
“Dare not call me a little puppy, you prancing cow.” Willem replied, catching Barbod off guard.
“Anyway, I still have much business to the north. Does that take a back-seat to this little quest?” Barbod asked with a smile.
“Yes.” Bjarn said, smiling.
“Good enough for me. When do we leave?” Barbod grinned.
“Early in the morning. Get some sleep.” Bjarn said, still having much to talk with his old friend. Barbod retired to his sack.
What of this group I am traveling with? Barbod thought, First off there is Reno. An honorable chap. I trust this kid. Trust him with my life. Looking for his brother, hunting a stolen treasure. I like this little one.
Secondly there is this Bjarn fellow. An old geezer who is tagging along with us. He wears the shield of the bloody assassins that attacked us. I'll have to watch my back around this man. And what an ugly beard.
Next there is Drakko. I would slice threw any Falcon in a minute, but this one is so...different. He is caring, and almost trustworthy. But I have learned never to trust a Falcon. That led my father to his last breath. Never trust a Falcon...not even a friend.
And now this Will fellow. Another leader? I doubt it. I haven't heard from the Wolfpack since I was a lad. I remember my father sending to them for re-enforcements when we were under attack. They never came. Watch my back for this one too. If they aren't gone, perhaps they are no better than the Falcons. Bloody Falcons...
No one cares for a fallen king from a forgotten kingdom. They don't know the whole story. No one knows they whole story. No one ever will. No one but me.
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