The Story of Djenghela the Huntress

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Some of the more recent stories

Chapters (with credits for inspiration.) in the story of Djenghela the Huntress:

It was one of those days.
Inspired by being assaulted by PAIN

Molly the Mule
Inspired by surviving another assault by PAIN

The Chastity Belt of Nullius
I am so sorry that I forgot to make a note of your name. (you know who you are) Your joke on unlocking virgins chastity belts inspired this story.

A bad day and a strange key.
Still inspired by the joke mentioned above and by meeting Thabit and being attacked by Ulriik.

Murder in her eyes, rage in her heart – part one.
Inspired by all the players who ever attacked Djenghela. None mentioned and none forgotten.

Murder in her eyes, rage in her heart – part two.
Thank you Minni Bro of Hinni for fighting me.

Murder in her eyes, rage in her heart – part three.
Celdweler, Quickstep and Chrissy

Eavesdropping in Tindrem

It was one of those days.

One of those days where you could just feel the bad negative energy in your bones, you could smell it in the air, you could feel it in the earth and see it in the eyes of the people.

It was one of those days... where no one would take any slight from anyone.

Djenghela the Huntress felt it, as did everyone else. Even the Belbus felt it and it made them determined to fight even harder to save their miserable lifes.

It was one of those days, where Djenghela sorely regretted that she had left Mohin Khur.
"better to starve in the east, than put up with the stinking capitol and its arrogant, greedy and murderous citizens", she thought, as she passed the gates of the capitol of the Tindremene Empire.

This day the scars in her face itched even more than usual, reminding her that hunting the Belbus was not a job to take lightly. That day, long ago, her mind had been elsewhere, and she paid the price. A particularly big Belbus had almost got her in the throath.. almost.. now her scarred face was a constant reminder.. never to hunt when her concentration was not absolute.

Why were they so arrogant? Their empire were only an empire in name. "In real life... Myrland is ruled by the many warlords and guilds... not by the empire... " she thought, as she delivered the carcasses to the butcher in Tindrem.

But Tindrem was the only city where she could make a decent living.. without resorting to murder or brigandry. Out east she had gathered barley and oat.... she often encountered brigands, but she took pride in the fact, that she had never raised her weapon against another – unless they struck first.

On countless occasions she had been robbed of a days work, and never..ever before had the raging bloodlust consumed her like it did on this day.

Scars itching and her mind occupied with bad thoughts, she left Tindrem for her second hunting trip of the day. Two armored men, bearing great twohanded swords where loitering at the gate when she passed. She knew... she felt it in the air and saw it in their eyes... Djenghela knew that the sensible thing was to turn around... but.. was one of those days, and she simply did not care.

She did not care about her own safety.. or theirs..

In the woods she quickly shot a few of the great Razorbacks that the butcher needed. Then she saw them... the two men with greatblades helped themselves to the razorback carcass... HER razorback carcass!

Any other day Djenghela would have ignored them and their lowly theft.

But it was one of those days.

Her first thought was to skewer them with her long hunting spear.... but she managed to quench her unusual bloodlust.. and instead she greeted them as politely as possible.

They did not even answer.

As the raging bloodlust rose in Djenghela, she heard the sound of a giant Lykiator from behind. Turning around, spear at the ready.. she almost impaled one of her new friends from Tindrem.

He dismounted the great lizard and politely spoke to the two thieves.

They did not even answer.

It was one of those days...

Djenghela looked at her friend, he looked at her.... they both felt it.... the bloodlust.
He looked at the thieves... Djenghela nodded and put on her helmet....
It was over quickly.... one thief dead... spear and axe hit him simultaneously, the other ran for his life.

Djenghela looked at her bloodied spear in disbelief... never before had it been coloured by human blood.....
Djenghela didnt contemplate her new identity as a killer of men for long... the sound of a galloping horse and a blade being drawn was all the warning she got. The rider... a known and skilled murderer called PAIN, came thundering out of the forest.....

As Djenghela the Huntress's head left her shoulders, she thought... was one of those days..

Molly the Mule

Molly missed Missy, she missed her more than she could express. The stable was empty and depressing without Missy, without anyone. She had seen them all go, all her sisters had gone... one by one they had gone, until only Molly was left.. alone with her dark thoughts, and no one to share them with.

It's not that Missy had been a great conversationalist – but she had had her moments, when their dad, old mule Manny died, it was Missy who had taken leadership of the family. It was Missy who comforted those left with her inspiring braying.

It was Missy who, every night before bedtime, had told the old family legend – the story of their heritage. The story of Jack the Donkey, the alpha donkey who had seduced the beautiful mare Lolly. It was the stuff of legends and the family took pride in their size and strenght – they were mules and they were proud of it. Not that it mattered to the stable master – he treated them like any other donkey.. "damn his eyes and damn his stick." they would all bray when he entered. But now, only Molly were left to bray.

Every morning, after breakfast, Missy had repeated the words of old papa Manny:
"Remember! We are not lowly frightened donkeys... we are MULES and we shall act like it. Our mistress is a blessing.. she never gamble with our lifes and she always feed us only the best blend of fruits, vitis and barley. Be grateful and do your best today, as any other day." she would bray with confidence.

Now Missy was dead. She had joined the countless ranks of brutally murdered mounts.

"Why do the two leggers hate us so much?" Molly thought, when Djenghela came back from work... without Missy.
"MissMule is dead and gone.. you'l have to work now." Djenghela said as she padded Molly on her back, that afternoon. "The evil man PAIN cut her down." She told Molly, and Molly had brayed and brayed in the most depressing manner any mule can bray.

One after another.. they had all gone and now only Molly was left.
She was the last of her line.
After her... who would serve Djenghela? A lowlife donkey? It was a frightening thought and Molly shivered and brayed even louder.

Into the razorback forest she rode, carrying her good mistress with the pride of a mule.
Molly saw the killer of mules first, and she brayed a warning to mistress Djenghela.
It was PAIN... the mule murderer.

Mistress Djenghela ran for her life and tried to call Molly. But Molly had had enough... for the first time in her life she did not answer the call of her mistress.
Molly the Mule stood her ground. Shivering with fear, she stood her ground against the killer of mules. She looked PAIN direcly in the eyes and did not move.

"Run my mistress, save yourself, I will stop the killer" she brayed.
Her scheme worked perfectly.... the killer's lust for the unknown valuables in her bags, was greater than his lust for mistress Djenghela's life.

Molly's mistress made it safely into Tindrem – as PAIN struck Molly.. again and again he struck her, Molly brayed in pain, but her mistress was saved.
Only then did Molly run for the safety of the city... leaving a trail of blood behind her..

Back in the stable... Molly felt alone and depressed... She had done a great deed, saved her mistress – but she had no one to share the story with.... Contemplating the fate of mules in Myrland, Molly sank into her dark thoughts and brayed in despair.

The Chastity Belt of Nullius

Two days had passed since the bloody encounter on razorback hill outside Tindrem.

Djenghela was still unsettled by her own bloody actions. She felt ashamed, and no matter how hard she scrubbed – the blood on her spear just wouldnt come off.
She had tried to go out hunting again, but at the gates, Molly would start braying and became stubborn as a mule. Usually she would just give her the stick.. but not these days, Djenghela was as depressed and demotivated as Molly the Mule was.

Walking aimlessly around Tindrem, Djenghela had taken to following Nullius the Pleb. Following or stalking, it was a fine line that Djenghela knew she had crossed. She couldn't help herself, he was such a fine specimen of a man... strong as an oxe and more intelligent than most nobilitas. The sight of him made her itch, and it weren't her scars itching.
His corn yellow hair, his bulging biceps and his fancy silk shirt... and his voice, that man could sing like no other. When he thought himself alone he would sing... "I'm a lumberjack and I'm ok...", she didnt really understand the deeper meaning of the lyrics, but it was beautiful.

He had a wife and children, but following him she had realised that he didnt' live with his family. Normally she would find this strange, but she didn't care, actually she was very pleased when she discovered this.

Djenghela had an itch.

She had asked old Mannfried if he knew Nullius.
They were both Tindremenes and Mannfried seemed like he knew everyone who were something in tindremene society.
Djenghela had always had a soft spot for old Mannfried. He was such a pleasant and wise man. He was a healer and very generous with his healing – and with his clever advice. They had quickly become friends. He was that kind of old man you could tell anything.
He knew all about Djenghela, but Djenghela knew little about Mannfried.
She knew that he had held an important public office in one of the many weird tindremic governmental branches. Then he had left Tindrem for several years, rumour on the street was that he had studied magic with some Sidoian wizard in the jungle. He had a great white beard, was bald and had a very strange tatoo on his forehead. That was all she knew.

When Djenghela asked about Nullius, Mannfried just laughed and said: "You aren't very clever young lady, are you? Forget about him, his chastity belt is locked tighter than a strange chest." He then shook his head as if he decided to keep a secret and then he laughed again. Then he said "Nullius is with Abdul Alhazrad". Djenghela already knew that Nullius was employed by Uncle Al and she wondered why Mannfried laughed so hard. But then again, Djengehal was used to not understanding the jokes of clever men. She was not very clever and she knew it.

Djenghela walked the streets of Tindrem aimlessly.
Djenghela had an itch.

She came to the harbour and sat down to rest and think.
She thought of Nullius and of the man she had killed. She became overwhelmed with disgust at her actions and she flung her bloodied spear into the harbour, and walked on.

Passing the bridge to the lower part of the rich part of town, below the Mage Towers, she took a left turn and walked through the vine covered alleys. At a terrace she met a vendor she'd never seen before. The rare items vendor. "Whats your fancy young khurite? How can I take your money?"
he said, He sold fist weapons, gems, books and other rarities.. even keys. Strange keys. The vendor did not want gold, he traded rarities for rarities. And the quickest way to find rarities in Tindrem is to hunt skeletons and trade their heads for rare exceptionel weapons.

Djenghela had an itch.

At the graveyard she quickly gathered some undead heads.
Resting at a fireplace in the graveyard she met a friendly young alvarin with an unusual name. Spez..Spaz..somthing.. she never could pronounce those foreign names. He was wearing rags, but his fine cape assured Djenghela that he was not a simple commoner or thief.

Gathering all her courage she asked him what to do with a strange key.
Laughing he said "you unlock chastity belts with it". "Its for strange chests, there is one in Cave Camp" another lightly clad foreigner said. "Try to search the many caves in the mountains near Cave Camp, or the stonehenges near Meduli" a third naked man said.

She thanked them and ran as fast she could to the rare vendor and traded 3 exceptional tindremic sword for a strange key.

Djenghela had an itch.

She found Nullius at the bowmaker tables and cornered him there, strange key in hand......

Then Djenghela had an itch, a black eye and a bruised face.

A bad day and a strange key

Her face was sore from the bruising Nullius had given her, and her pride was aching even more.
Her mind was elsewhere and when she heard the blade being drawn, Djenghela didn't react.

She was in Tindrem, in the poor quarter between the great plaza and the passage to the harbour. He rode a great lykiator and his name was Ulriik of The Iron Order.

The blow almost knocked her unconscious, Monty reared and Djenghela landed on her sore and bruised face. Gaining her balance she saw Ulriik turning to make another pass, she stood fast and returned his slash with a hard spear thrust..... the cuprum spear, so effective against the belbus, was useless against this well armored and skilled murderer.
Edging towards the aquaduct pillar, she dodged left and right, with some success. Thrusts and slashes were exchanged at the pillar and the moment he passed – Djenghela sprinted for the safety of the great plaza and the guards there. Another slash in the back cut through her molarium torso, she might as well have been naked for all the good her armor did.

She made it to safety and so did Monty. Cursing her own stupidity and lack of concentration, she put up a fire and lay down to rest.

It wasn't easy to find sleep, the last days had been bad, but this one was the worst yet.
Before sleep finally overcame her, Djenghela went through the events of the day............

Nullius had beaten her up for real. He'd even cast a lightning spell on her... "that man.. he was so talented, he knew everything there was to know about the different trees and their properties, he could sing, make bows and he was also a great magician... he was so great.. no one like him anywhere.. he even had a sense of, he was the best!".

Following her less than romantic encounter with Nullius, she had decided to search for that which the damned strange key could unlock. Molly the Mule had again refused to leave Tindrem – as they neared the gates, Molly had become stubborn as a mule, she'd brayed, turned around and went back to the stables, not that Djenghela blaimed her, she understood and respected Molly.

With Molly stabled and fed, Djenghela had taken the young mongrel Monty out instead. Monty was the adventurous sort of mongrel, and he happily carried Djenghela out through the gates.

She rode south toward Meduli, at the old ruined fortress overlooking Meduli, she spotted something that loked like a stonehenge. She found it infested with big bats, and there was a chest, a rusty one. Her key didn't fit. "Can this stupid key unlock anything at all?" she said to herself.

Then the sound of a pickaxe hitting stone reached her. She was not alone in the stonehenge!
Djenghela's usual friendly attitude had somewhat lessened these last days, she readied her spear and prepared for a fight.

It was a miner, an armored one. Thabit of the ParaBellum. Djenghela greeted him coldly, still ready for a fight. Thabit was a friendly fellow and offered to show her the upper stonehenge. Still wary of him, they rode up in the mouintains, and there it was – a stonehenge and a strange chest.

When the lock clicked open, her key broke. Looking in the chest, Djenghela was sorely disapponted to find nothing but some old sealed scrolls and a handful of cuprum coins.

The letters made no sense to Djenghela, she wasn't very clever and she knew it.
But she was as stubborn as Molly and would not suffer any defeat, not even by the alphabet.
She took her time reading every single letter on the seals... speaking them out loudly, just as Mannfried had taught her, she read:




She could decipher the words but they made no sense at all.

Now she was really in bad mood.
To make up for her wary attitude toward Thabit the miner, she gave him the two first scrolls and rode away. Weirdly enough, he seemed very very happy to get the scrolls. "People are so strange" she thought as she rode back to Tindrem.

When she told Mannfried, he was not happy. Not at all.
Of course he didn't say so, but she could see it in his eyes.

Even before she met Ulriik of the Iron Order, it had been a very bad day. Maybe tomorrow everything will be different and better...

Sleep finally overcame Djenghela.

Murder in her eyes, rage in her heart
part 1

That morning, as Djenghela rose, she knew it would be a bloody day...

Even though Mannfried had healed her, her body and pride ached form the many wounds she received in the fights with Ulriik and Nullius.

As she ate her simple diet of horribly prepared oat and raw meat, a set of strange feelings touched her young heart. Feelings she had never felt earlier. New unknown urges that demanded immediate satisfaction.

Whether their source were her injured pride or her injured body, she didn't know – and didn't care - these unknown urges were like a wildfire in the forests... these was no arguing with them and no stopping them.

She even skipped her morning prayer to the great Sky Father.
She only knew the one god in the sky – but there had to be a god of death, so she improvised her own ritual.

She drew her own blood and painted her face bloody red with it.

Djenghela was engulfed by hatred. Hatred for the whole of Myrland, even Nave. Hatred for the gods who allowed all these evil people to draw breath, hatred for the empire whose corrupt guards allowed the bloody red murderers to pass the gates and hatred for all the peolple who had been lucky enough to not be murdered.

Why should she be any different? When the gods themselves allow evil men to roam....
Who was she to question their judgement, or rather lack of judgement?

Thoughts of aimless murder engulfed Djenghela. She just wanted to kill, and anyone would do.

She knew the path she had to travel this day.

At the stable, Monty jumped to his feet, eager for a new adventure. Molly pretended to be asleep.
"Monty your wounds aren't healed, you have to stay here... and Molly...tomorrow you'l work or I deliver YOU to the butcher."

She would have to travel by foot. She picked up her war spear on the way. It was a long and heavy dapplewood pole with a steel heavy tip. She knew that most soldiers preferred the light and short spears, for speed. But a hard thrust with this one could pierce most armors. Better to make a few deadly thrusts than many light ones. It also had the lenght nescessary to fight riders while dodging.

A weapon for murder should have a name she thought. She carved the name "Killer of Men" in the dapple pole, too late she realised she had misspelled and carved "Keller of Men" instead. Damned! No way to undo that.. and her first mistake of the day only made her angrier.

Djenghela was raging as she set out for Kranesh. She knew she would find murderers there.

Her mind was occupied with raging fantasies of murder and torture. At first she fantasised about PAIN, Peshmerga, Arconite and Ulriik - the four murderers she'd encountered these last days. When she caught one them (or anyone else), she would impale him from buttom to top, and leave him hanging on her long spear.

With visions of impaled bodies on spikes, she ran toward Kranesh.. the home of murderers...

with murder in her eyes and rage in her heart.

It was gonna be one of those days.

To be continued........

Murder in her eyes, rage in her heart
part 2

Her first impulse was to take the main road through the mountain to Kranesh, instead she decided to scout the town first. Moving from tree to tree, pausing to scout every now and then.. she found Kranesh deserted. Then she ran into the town and searched every house. No one were there.. except a few pigs who'd taken the opportunity to search for leftovers behind the houses.

Djenghela decided to take up position by the second floor window, in a house by the entrance to town. She was exhausted by the long run from Tindrem and fell asleep.

As she came to, she heard the rustling of armor, without moving she opened her eyes and tried to see who it was.

A man in light armor with a great twohander stood less than two feet away. He had not noticed Djenghela....

She jumped to her feet, drew her spear, Keller of Men, and shouted: "I hate you all, I can kill as well as you.. now it is my time.. DEATH DEATH!"

The man, Minni Bro of Hinni, simply answered "fuck you".

Djenghela's spear hit him as he drew his greatblade, whatever his armor where made of, it wasn't as light as it had seemed. Keller of Men barely penetrated his armor – Minni returned the favour with much greater success. At that moment Djenghela knew she was in over her head.

Minni was an old veteran, who had not fought for a long time, and Djenghela had taken him by surprise. He quickly gathered himself and spear thrusts and sword slashes were exchanged, the blood of both combatants coloured the old wooden floor, as spear and sword sang their violent songs.

Realising she would loose, Djenghela tried to invoke the gods.... "for the god of death.. die die you scum!" she shouted in vain.

She moved backwards toward the staircase, hoping to continue the fight out in the open, where she had the advantage of her great speed and dexterity.

A slash in the back and she stumbled down the stairs....

She sprinted out the doorway and as she turned to face Minni... he cut her down with one last deadly swing.

Later, when she came too, lying in the pool of her own blood, she found herself stripped of all valuables.... it took great effort to crawl back to Tindrem, bleeding and hurt.. but still consumed by rage and bloodlust – she decided to gear up again and return.

The day was young and this wasn't over..... the urge to kill weren't satisfied and she had made a solemn oath to the god of death.

To be continued.....

Thank you Minni for a good fight.

Murder in her eyes and rage in her heart -
part 3

The scars on her face itched and the blood had clotted on her face and in her scars. She felt it would be wrong to wash it off – she had made a prayer when she painted her face, a prayer to a god – and that was a serious matter.

Yesterday had been bad. Defeated by Minni and then a long roam without meeting anyone... it was as the world was empty. Her whole body was aching for a kill.. and she had to dispose of a sweet little puppy, just to ease the urge, just enough for her to be able to sleep. The bystanders didn't react to this slaying of puppies... they just walked on as if this was completely normal behaviour.

Djenghela had felt like screaming... "HEY I'm killing puppies.. someone stop me! Someone fight me! I am a bad person!"

This day.. everything would be different, she told herself as she carved the name "Rage" in her new steel spear. Today it is my time.

Leaving Tindrem, she travelled east and made camp on the hill by the great rock. She had a fine view of the road from this position, and she knew this was a favorite spot for brigands.
Oh how she wished for some brigand to pass now. She waited and waited but no one came. To the south stood a circular palisade with a tall and broad tower in the middle. This made her think of Nullius and she broke camp and ran south-west... even more furious than before. The scars in her face and pride were itching.

Oh.. this would be a bad bad day. And she would be a bad bad girl.

In the hills near Cerulite Bridge she finally encountered someone... a man, a bloody red murderer. Djenghela drew her spear and sprinted towards him, he was on foot and dressed in rags. His red name was Celdweler. He stopped as Djenghela came running spear in hand. He was unarmed and stood still, as if he knew death was upon him.
He spoke with a heavy foreign dialect, he spoke the only words he knew, words he had learned by heart.. "Icantspeakcommon".. he said several times.
That was extremely demotivating, she wanted him to know that she hated him and everyone else, she wanted him to know how angry she was... but he just stood there with his bloody red name and no weapon, and he didn't speak the common tongue. Damned and tripple damned.. this was not the kind of bloodshed Djenghela wanted. She let him go, Djenghela was shaking with rage and unfulfilled bloodlust.

At Meduli she finally met people, people with weapons and armor.... She shouted out her rage in the streets and ran outside town, hoping someone would follow. Nobody did, and she soon realised why....

Two heavily armed riders were outside.
"YES finally!" Djenghela raised her round shield and spear and prepared for the fight. The horseman, Quickstep of DOOM, looked in disbelief at lightly armored Djenghela as she charged him while shouting out all her hatred.
She put her spear in his horse and he almost cut her head off with one mighty swing. He turned his horse and paused for a second, probably surprised to see she was not fleeing.

Rage engulfed Djenghela's mind and heart, she did not even try to parry, instead she readied her spear and waited for his next pass. Both weapons hit their mark, her spear hit his horse and his swing threw Djenghela to the ground. Again she rose and raised her spear, stubborn and determined. Shaking his head at her stupidity, he charged and finished her off with a third mighty swing.

When she regained consciousness, she saw him riding away with her new steel spear. Bloodied and barely conscious she crawled back to Meduli.
When the town crier said "Welcome to Meduli, enjoy your stay" she almost hit him smack in the face. She rested and retuned to Tindrem to arm herself, again... on the way she met a beautiful grey and light brown donkey with white spots. She named her Dolly and claimed her as her own.

Perhaps the god of death was punishing her for not killing Celdweler the murderer, when she had the chance... perhaps the god of death had put him in her path, for her to sacrfice... perhaps she had angered the god of death? She touched the clotted blood on her face and promised the gods: not to hesitate again.

She carved the name "Killer" in her next spear. And this time she wrote it with an "i".
The itch in her scars were getting worse, her leather clothing was red with her own blood and she was raging to the point of hysteria.

Then she saw her.... the mage was running from the city guards.. they shot arrow after arrow in her, but she managed to climb a roof and hide. Believing herself safe – the mage.. no the witch, ran to the sewers and disappeared.

"No mercy, no hesitation." she said to herself.
Scars itching, she climbed down the sewer ladder, with murder in her eyes and rage in her heart.

Chrissy the Hole lay sleeping, she looked kind of sweet as she lay there snoring lightly, but Djenghela the Khurite was not fooled. This was a witch... and a dangerous one. She probably thought she'd gotten clean away with her crimes, and that was why she looked so peaceful as she rested... But Djenghela had seen her. She had seen the guards chasing the witch and she had seen their arrows hit her.
Chrissy smiled and licked her lips, likely dreaming of her succesful crime and of future ones.... she snored happily as Djenghela impaled her with "Killer".... the smile was still on her face when Djenghela cut off her head.

She immediately build a fire and offered Chrissy's head to the god of death.

Then she washed off the day old clotted blood from her face.
That somewhat lessened the her scars.

But she was still raging with with bloodlust....
Maybe next time she should try using her shield.... instead of aimlessly thrusting away?

She needed to speak with Mannfried, he would know what to do.

Eavesdropping in Tindrem

She'd found Mannfried the Healer at the great plaza in Tindrem.

"Silly girl, stupid girl, you drew your own blood for the god of death! I wonder what demonic force you have tapped into..." and then he slapped her! He slapped her!
Tears rising in Djenghela's eyes, and the rage rising in her heart. She was speechless.. never had she seen Mannfried angry like this. Yes well he'd been annoyed when she told him of the scrolls she'd given to Thabit, but now he was positively angry.

He slapped her again.

"Foolish little Khurite girl, go back to the steppes, Tindrem is not for you. These streets are full of bloody red angry spirits... prayer and ritual is not something to improvise. Be glad that you made your evil sacrifice of Chrissy, and leave it at that. Go back to the wilds and starve that rage and bloodlust, starve it till it dies." Mannfried said.

"But..but..." she stammered as she tried to hand him the Artifact Construction a peace offering. He ignored the scroll in her hand and continued:

"You gave your own blood... and the dark spirit that heard your prayer, it probably got a taste for it.... and every time your stupidity led you into a slaughter, you've fed that dark spirit with your own blood and soul. Stupid stupid little girl."
Mannfried was shaking with anger and would have slapped Djenghela again, if not they had been interrupted.

"Mannfried! A word... now if you please!", his voice was deep and threatening, he wore a dark coloured armor and a fine Tindremic Cape, A steel shield on his back and a risar axe by his side.
Djenghela felt a shiver in her spine and turned around hand on her spear...

Without taking his eyes off Mannfried, he pushed Djenghela aside – he was strong. Very strong.

"Leave us wench, I need to speak with the secretary." the man sneered at Djenghela.

As he took the scrolls from Djenghela's hand, Mannfried whispered softly: "you better leave now – do as I said, I won't see till you've starved that rage.. go do it".

Tears in her eyes she nodded and seemed to go away...

Mannfried said: Hello Macrinus, I was wondering who they would send.

Djenghela was not very clever, and she knew it –
but her gut told her something was horribly wrong and she would not leave a friend undefended. She dived into a nearby Wolfbrush bush to be nearby if Mannfried needed her...and to be able to hear what they said. Djenghela was also very very curious, and a little nosy. So she'd been told anyway.

Macrinus: No one send me. I know who you are old man, I have questions in exchange for my silence.

Mannfried: I'm surprised you didn't find me earlier, I've been back for some time now.

Macrinus: I want to know why you left, why you returned and what you know about the case.

Mannfried: I left to save my life, I came back because now I can defend myself. What case are you referring to?

Macrinus: Monica the slut, who else. Did she really kill her parents?

Mannfried: You ask the wrong questions Sir.

Macrinus: Are you daft and drunk..Stop with the riddles old man.. what is the right question then?

Mannfried: The real question, for you, is what happened to the Omnius fortune after the death of Julius and Ingebritt.

Macrinus: I don't get it old man.... explain!

Mannfried: When Julius divorced Monica, she was lowered into the Plebs caste and Julius became the "guardian" of the Omnius estate and fortune. After the assasinations, the estate was liquefied by the Magistrate and should have been kept safe, until a ruling was made on Monica's appeal to reenter the Theurgy. If she lost the case, as she certainly would have, the gold would have gone into the emperors coffers.

Macrinus: And so what? There's nothing suspiciuos in that.

Mannfried: Except that the case never got to court, the gold disappeared and all written records with it.

Macrinus: hmm.. are we even having the conversation? what is your point?

Mannfried: Someone took it. Follow the money.

Macrinus: I'm not ignorant, this is Tindrem where everyone make his own fortune. What's your point? How does this connect with Monica's case?

Mannfried: Is it not obvious, young captain of the company, or is it just captain now?

Macrinus: No. Really it isn't...obvious.

Mannfried: The murder of Monica's parents and everything that happened afterwards are connected.

Macrinus: Nonsense! Julius and Ingebritt were murdered by common eata, and Monica's crimes have made her ineligible for the theurgy. The case is on hold because of the great workload in the courts and because she was branded an outlaw. How can it be connected with the Omnius murder? Unless Monica killed them....

Mannfried: You have to take a step back and look at the big picture. All these events have the mark of the same dark force. Coincidence does not exist. As you very well know ST! You yourself have been a pawn of that dark force. As are Monica. Maybe you are still... My question is: are you aware that you are a pawn?

Macrinus: Shut the fuck up old man.. or i'l cut you down right here!

Mannfried: the ignorent and unpenitent man is the most dangerous of all....

As Macrinus raised his axe, Djenghela screamed..guards...guards.. Knowing her friend was as safe as anyone can be, she ran to the slums, to prepare to leave Tindrem.

"That was very very weird".. she thought.

She'd have to ask Mannfried about that, when she returned.. if ever.
Thread starter #2


Junior Member
Cast of the known characters(from all the previous stories - and from the next),
in alphabetical order

Abdul Alhazrad, age 62 – Sarducaan. Weaponsmith and shield crafter.
(also known as: Alhazrad the Great, the Mad, the Kind, the Friendly or the Drunk)

Everybody know Alhazrad, he is the friend of everyone who like fair prices.
He arrived in Tindrem 2 years ago.
He immediately started building the Alhazrad Shield Shop, the Tindrem branch of the Sociable Traders Fraternal Union(the STFU). He is known to suffer from drug induced prophetic visions.
Some time ago he fled to Mohin Khur, to avoid being jailed for his supposed connection with Monica the Pleb. He is now back in Tindrem and cleared of all charges.

Djenghela Khan, age 22 – Khurite foot archer and spear fighter.
Little is known of Djenghela's family prehistory, except that poverty and unemployment forced her to leave Mohin Khur for Tindrem. The rest is recent history.

Hyste Rical, age 18 – Sidoian/Sarducaan rider.
More than two years ago, Hyste came by ship to Toxai and lived in Mohin Khur for a some time.
She nerver made a name for herself and her few comrades know her as a slightly paranoid and neurotic girl. She has lived in many parts of Myrland and is always on the move. Rumour is that she was once a talented thief, but she left her life of crime to become a mounted fighter.
Hyste is not her true name, and she has only once revealed her birth name.

Ilkalb Rical, age 41 – Sarducaan mounted soldier.
Ilkalb came by ship to Toxai shortly after Hyste. Initially he was hunting Hyste, who is his niece, but it seems that they have settled their issue – whatever it was. No one know the true name of ilkalb and no one know exactly why he took that name – he has admitted that it is to remind him of some great sin he comitted. This burden of sin, have made him quite melancholic and he is constantly searching for redemption by protecting the common people of Myrland against brigands and murderers.

Macrinus Justinian, age 30 – Tindremene warrior, former actor.
Macrinus was suspected of being the leader of the tindremene terrorist group, the Company of Tindrem. The guards have several theories about him, but few facts.
Update-2015- Macrinus is the Captain of the Company of Tindrem.

Mannfried Sophis, age 62 – Tindremene mage.
Mannfried recently arrived in Tindrem where he is known as a kind healer.

Monica the Pleb, age 23 – Tindremene rogue and human supremacist.
Monica was born Omnius of the Theurgy caste. Now she is a Pleb.
She is a well known brigand and terrorist and is wanted for her many crimes.

Nervana, age 64 – Sarducaan master armor crafter.
The older sister of Alhazrad, she is the owner of the Alhazrad Shop and the leader of the STFU.
As the Alhazrad Shop grew in size and began exporting, Abdul summoned Nervana to take charge.
She is known for her hostile and unforgiving character, and that is probably why her brother is in charge of the shop's public relations.
Nervana travelled to Tindrem in the company of Shiaka and she has never divulged anything about herself to anyone.

Nullius the Pleb, age 31 – Tindremene lumberjack, bowmaker and dabbler in magic.
Nullius was an addict and a drunk living in the sunked city/Tindrem.
As the Alhazrad Shield Shop grew, Nullius were hired as a lumberjack. He is a fairly unknown pleb, when the Alhazrad Shop was temporarily closed by the Tindrem magistrate, Nullius were put in jail. As the charges were dropped, he is now back working for the STFU.

Shiaka Zulu, age 30 – Sidoian light footman and master swimmer.
Shiaka came to Tindrem as the bodyguard of Nervana, he is the transporter and muscle of the STFU. He is a man of few words and very little is known about him, except that he from time to time, feed on human flesh.

Ufred Kainsen, age 30 – Kallard with a little tindremene blood.
2 years ago, Ufred came from the far north, in Tindrem – he had a nervous breakdown, caused by being continuosly pickpocketed. Then the voices in his head began speaking. He is a brute and is known for his persistence in hunting down anyone who is unfortunate enough to cross him.
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