Chapter Four: The Maul

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They kept up a lively pace for over an hour, each entrance and exit ramp blocked off by husks and husks and more husks. This was a trap and all the Wild Boars thought of it and hated themselves for not forcing the issue. They should have double backed. "We should have double backed. We should halt, we have been moving for too many stinking hours" Sir Jabberjaw yelled breathlessly as Sir Wallace relented and called for a brief halt of the Wild Boars.

"Aye, knowing what we know now we shouldn't have come this way at all." Sir Jonus grumbled through a heavy wheezing, that tightened his chest. All sighed in agreement, and sat around where they began to set up a brief camp. They stunk of sour sweat, and were fatigued greatly, straining to catch their breaths, with their words heavy in their mouths.

"We need a break, we need to rest, we need some respite, we need food, and water, and fire." Sir Jabberjaw yelled aloud, being the first to speak on such things.

"You'll get two of those and nothing more. We first find shelter and then, and only then, will we consider a fire" Sir Wallace was no happier for it, but knew it was the right thing to do. Too much fire would grant too much attention to the Wild Boars and who knew what manner of she beasts and she bitch lay about this fetid town. Even though the cloud light had been waning and fire would bring them new insights into the true dark, it would expose them more than it should. It was something none would welcome. Night fighting would be no good for any of them and would be far from easy.

"Where should we make camp then?" It was Sir Jabberjaw who asked the question this time. Sir Wallace glanced at Sir Jabberjaw and then looked around the streets that they had held themselves around. Sir Wallace saw old inns and taverns strewn about, just full of rubble and dilapidated. They were not the best camps, but they surely would not be the worst. If they were lucky, they would surely find some old wine or ale hold up for them to drink.Maybe some food for that matter as we will be in sore need soon enough.

Meister Kevin piped up, "There is a market place nearby...but I can't say what good it will do for us." Meister Kevin looked hard at the map in his hand, shrunk down to its original size.

"Why do you say that?" Sir Jabberjaw piped up.

"Well it's what our great great great grand elders would call a Maul. The Maul of the Westfields at that. It's bound to have all kinds of sinister elements in it given its age and how it probably festered. Truth be told it is likely another trap. This whole god forsaken town is a trap." Meister Kevin raised an eyebrow at the Wild Boars trying to discern some reaction from them. Any reaction."All exits and roads we have tried to mount or pass through seemed to be blocked. That much is true. Something is gearing us toward this one area area." He pressed upon the area of the Maul on his map with his middle finger, the warband followed closely with their eyes, "and I would venture to reason that if we tried to go through road one it would be blocked off and lead directly to this Maul of ours." Meister Kevin was cut off by a shuffling of feet and faint murmurings. Sir Yashua had returned from his scouting ahead. A scouting that began about a half hour ago after some concern about their road was impressed upon him by Sir Wallace. The trek was not far and revealed much.

"Report Sir Yashua, gives us all you know. At once!" Sir Wallace forced out gruffly, hoping for something better than Meister Kevin's sour tidings.

"Reports battle commander. Report of blockages on road one veering us toward the Maul. No way through or around, just through the Maul." Audible groans and hisses rang out through the warband. They knew that all they could do with themselves was press forward. Press forward through the corrupt Maul with all its trappings and the like. It was something they cared not to do, but they cared less to go back to go forward. Instead they just wanted to press forward whether it was sweet water or shit before them.

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