Selon bernuetz <bernuetz_at_ommeyrBI-fDt30o1WxIUGYtSggQHqixpURYZed2WLwfx8fvQUm9OPd3YGBX2PqkA326GmAMB-w.yahoo.invalid>:
> Here's a Christmas gift to the list. Enjoy and happy holidays.
>
> "That's Roganvarth Penterestsson? So called hero of Whitewall? That shabby
> wreck of a man?" The speaker was a big man dressed in black leather and
> cuirboilli. He had just enough weapons and more than enough of a poor
> personality to be extremely dangerous. His twelve followers were dressed in
> a similar fashion down to the bad attitudes and callous disregard for the
> welfare of others. "You'd hardly expect me to mislead you after your friend
> kneed my friend in the danglies do you?" The speaker was a middle aged man
> in a dirty apron. "That is indeed the wreckage of Roganvarth Penterestsson.
> Some say he was never the same after Whitewall." The object of their
> scrutiny was a hunched figure with a few wisps of hair clinging to his mostly
> naked scalp. He stood hunched over a cauldron hung over the fire. He had
> obviously once been a large burly man but he stared down into the soup he was
> stirring as if trapped in memories. He hadn't looked up when the group
> entered the inn and taken defensive positions around the inn. Not even when
> the leader had asked for him and one of his followers had kneed the server in
> the bawbag. He just muttered to himself and stirred and stirred.
> Occasionally he would speak up and say, "Soup is good" before returning to
> his muttering.
>
> The leader shook his head in disgust. "Pathetic. Whatever, the Lunars are
> still offering a nice bounty on him and his bitch." He looked around.
> "Where is she? This," he looked down at a sheet of parchment in his hand,
> "Rana Riverlocks. Is she off licking the outhouse clean?" A fleeting look
> of anger crossed the innkeeper's face before he replied. "No, she has gone
> out on an errand. She should be back soon." The leader grunted in
> satisfaction. "Good, we will wait for her so we can collect the whole
> bounty. Bring my men some food. No beer or wine mind you. We wouldn't want
> to risk losing our Orlanthi heroes would we." He and his men relaxed
> somewhat and ate the food the serving staff brought. One of them took up
> position beside Roganvarth and tried to engage him in conversation. "So
> you're the mighty hero of Heler who rode the stone wave that repelled the
> Obsidian Phalanx at Whitewall, eh?" Roganvarth just kept stirring and
> muttering quietly to himself, occasionally uttering, "Soup is good!" "Leave
> the wreck alone and keep your wits about you, numbskull" the bored leader
> eventually called.
>
> The door to the inn opened and everyone tensed. But it was only an old woman
> in the robes of a Deezola mendicant looking for alms. She tottered slowly
> around the room holding her bare hand out for donations. None of the bandits
> gave her any money. The leader quickly looked her over as she came to him
> but lost interest when he saw her scarred scalp. He looked down again at his
> parchment but the description was of a beautiful woman who bound water
> spirits into her hair. This old woman couldn't be Rana Riverlocks. She
> stood stubbornly holding her hand out and the leader half raised his hand to
> strike her but thought better of hitting a holy woman. Jokingly he held his
> beer stein out to her and he was surprised when she took it from him and took
> a big drink from it.
>
> "Hey look the old baggage is a drunk" he began. But then the "old baggage"
> straightened up and spat her mouthful of beer in his face speaking something
> in a sibilant tongue. He leapt to his feet and began drawing his sword but
> stopped and clutched his throat instead as the beer forced itself down his
> throat choking him. His men were momentarily stunned but quickly recovered.
> The one guarding Roganvarth started drawing his sword and turned towards him.
> He saw a figure that was no longer hunched over and stood distressingly
> tall. There was an evil twinkle in his eye and he grabbed the cauldron and
> dumped the contents over the bandit. "Soup is good. And hot." The bandit
> fell screaming to the floor. Roganvarth grabbed his sword and mercifully
> silenced his screams. Rana moved over beside Roganvarth and the bandits
> started closing on the pair. Except for the one who was stabbed by the
> innkeeper and the pair brained by servers. Rana spoke the strange language
> again and the hot soup rose off of the floor and moved over to the nearest
> bandit. She grabbed another sword and the pair, the soup and the inn's staff
> quickly and efficiently finished off the rest of the bandits. With a wave of
> her hand Rana returned the soup to its normal condition.
>
> Once they were all dead. Roganvarth and Rana embraced and they checked each
> other for damage. Roganvarth stroked her scarred head and said,"We survived
> again my love." He turned to the innkeeper. "Our apologies to you for this
> trouble we brought down on you." The innkeeper shrugged and cleaned the
> blood off of his knife. "Trouble is everywhere these days. I doubt anyone
> will be coming looking for this lot. We'll bury them in the woods and I'll
> say some words over them to pacify their spirits." He shook his head. "None
> of us were the same after Whitewall." He looked sad and Roganvarth cuffed
> him on the shoulder. "Don't mourn the past, old friend
>
> Oliver
>
>
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