Enlightened Enemies

After stumbling across another of his men while fleeing the woods, Sergeant O’Malley heads toward the prearranged meeting point with the disturbingly forthright; Madam Megarna.

“What do you mean ‘you failed’? There were over thirty of you fools!”

O’Malley had left his few remaining men a safe distance behind before facing the wiley, black clad, fortune teller.

“We did everything you said. We stayed well out of sight until Spider Murphy confronted them and then rushed out of our hiding places to prevent them fleeing. Our crossbowmen peppered them with waves of bolts and everyone held strong.”

Openly scowling, Megarna purses her thin lips.

“So what went wrong?”

O’Malley tries to meet the wrinkled woman’s grey eyes but fails.

“My old sword-mates triple crossed us. They happily took Spider Murphy’s offer to pass unscathed but then, literally, stabbed us in the back as soon as the opportunity presented itself.”

Her voice growing quieter, Megarna almost whispers.

“Go on. What else?”

O’Malley can feel the trap about to spring but can do nothing to escape it.

“The adventurers were too strong. The big, darkly armoured Fighter sliced through your Orc mercenaries as if they were just wheat to be harvested and the other two; the Dwarf and the Halfling summoned terrifying beasts I’ve never seen before!”

Her stare intensifying, Megarna utters just one more acidic word.

“And?”

Brow damp now, O’Malley finally reaches the point Megarna was waiting for.

“It was Spider Murphy’s fault; He let his personal vendetta against the Bard derail the entire plan. He jumped down too early and chased the Demi-Elf into the thicket. It wasn’t my fault we lost. I did everything I could. Without him commanding the crossbowmen, they fled, leaving my men uncovered…”

Madame Megarna lets him trail off until an agonisingly long silence builds between them.

“So it ‘wasn’t your fault’? You ‘did everything you could’? More likely, you spilled your guts about me to ensure your own survival. No matter; knowledge of the coven won’t help them any and Spider Murphy was far, far too vengeful for his own good anyway. Or ours. Meet me here again this time tomorrow for your next mission.”

Returning to his four men, one of them asks if he’ll go. In response, O’Malley chooses his words very carefully.

“Not likely. Whatever this is, it’s not worth our lives. We move out today, keep moving south as far and as fast as we can and try to keep our necks out of it.”

The same soldier presses the point though.

“What about Barbella’s betrayal, your lockbox and your magic sword?”

O’Malley looks back at his man in surprise.

“Fuck Barbella, fuck the lockbox and fuck the magic sword!”

O’Malley the Tally Stat

The professional soldier; Sergeant O’Malley still can’t believe that he’s not lying lifeless, amongst the leaf-litter on the forest floor. The enemy Dwarven Cleric had not only brought him back from the very brink of death but the adventurers had actually freed him too!

And all it had cost him, were the lives of nine of his men, his lockbox savings and his treasured, magical longsword.

Leading his three surviving men through the dense woodland, he reruns the recent events in his head and tries to recall what had happened over the last few months to get him here.

After being driven out of Scarborough by the imminent arrival of Lord Urdurel’s superior forces, O’Malley begrudgingly found himself leading a dozen directionless men. Sir Briefadel was gone, probably for good, as was Captain Hall and Sergeant Filko from a previous fiasco. As of his recent promotion, he was the highest ranking officer left in Scarborough and, as such, he’d found himself in charge, but without a salary or a mission.

It was then that Sir Briefadel’s elderly mystic advisor made herself known again. Madame Megarna was the one who had warned him to gather up the men and leave before any possible confrontation with Lord Urdurel’s troops and she appeared again, a while later, accompanied by Spider Murphy. 

He’d known the tall, Afro-sporting rogue, on and off, for over a decade and he’d been aware that Sergeant Filko had been in cahoots with him on several side-hussles in recent years. Jobs that didn’t directly concern Sir Briefadel or need to involve the more rigid, rules-driven; Captain Hall.

Offered pay and purpose, he, and the dozen men under him, gladly accepted. Morality wasn’t really a question for any of them. They were all mere mercenaries, often with murky pasts and in it just for the coin, not for any higher purpose or noble cause.

Madame Megarna had somehow known, approximately, where and when the adventurers would be passing through the forest, on their return journey from the Fey realm, with their saddle bags, hopefully full of magic and treasure. 

Her instructions had been crystal clear.

Travel to Bitboh wood, join forces with Spider Murphy’s bandits, as well as the handful of eager young Orcush warriors she’d hired, and ambush the party. Slaughter them to a man, elf, halfling and dwarf, but spare the horses and capture the weird gourd-like barrels unscathed. That’s all she wanted. Not even a share of the loot!

At the time, he’d felt supremely confident. Thirty well-organised, well-armed and well-armoured men verses just seven undisciplined adventurers, seemed an easy task. 

How wrong he’d been…

No Honour Among Sleaze

The skirmish is over almost as fast as it began and Spider Murphy and his rag-tag band of mercenaries and cut-throats are either dead or driven off. 

After calming down the over-excited Doberman, blonde mopped Henshaw turns to Barbella.

“Why’d ya do it? Why did you betray your old friend O’Malley? I thought you said that you were only ‘Doing what you were told, for the sake of all the gold’?”

The smaller, swarthier Barbella shrugs.

“You trust the adventurers, so I trust the adventurers.”

Henshaw beams at his old friend.

“You secret softy. I knew I hung around you for a reason.”

Baring his teeth and exposing the occasional gold replacement, Barbella smiles tightly.

“You realise that I did it for you, not them and on top of that, I wouldn’t trust Spider Murphy further than I could throw ‘im’”

Henshaw raises his eyebrows in response.

“That’s fair. Safer to associate with the good you know, than a self-serving psychopath!”