Last Meal at Homebound: Part IV

BuggRust grunted fiercely in frustration as he fought against whatever blocked the door to the inn. The latch turned easily but whomever was still inside had barricaded it against entry. BuggRust was certain that he and his band could get through, but he had hoped it would be easier. He raised a free hand to halt one of his troop from tossing in another tar flask, wanting to take whatever awaited him inside alive. At least at first. Smoking humans out was generally a good strategy, but one that included a risk of burning to death their intended victims, usually a bonus side-effect, just not in this case.

A quick inspection of the windows flanking the door showed that they too were blocked, though less earnestly than the front door. One of BuggRust's lackey's had nearly attempted entry through one of them, but was stopped before doing so. Feeling that the windows presented an easy place that his orcs could be ambushed and picked off one by one BuggRust ordered against the idea and the troop held up reluctantly.

After a few seconds of thought BuggRust decided to go with his original plan: Through the front door. It was a mistake he would not live to regret.

Taking two steps back, holding his falchion with both hands in front of him, he took a deep breath and rushed the door. When only a few feet away he planted his left boot into the slushy, gray mud and kicked at the door with his right. The astonishing force produced by his compact, iron-strong lower body caused the chair on the other side of the door to explode, splintering into hundreds of pieces. As the door swung open, the top struck the leaning table with enough residual velocity that it caused it to slowly tip forward towards Magda's bar, resting momentarily at a 90 degree angle before it's momentum carried it the rest of the way to the floor, away from the door it had been leaning against. It crashed to it's feet with a enormous wooden "thunk", where it remained, seemingly waiting for Magda to dress it with plates and forks for dinner service.

Triumphant, BuggRust stood in the now-open entrance of Homebound, the door had remained intact and swung free of it's impediments. Dust from the impact, as well as the residual smoke from an earlier tar flask impaired his vision enough so that he could only barely make out the bar across the room. Silhouettes of slumped human barbarians, barely clothed, could be made out only a few feet away though they did not advance. Sensing their impatience, BuggRust stepped into the tavern, clearing the way for his troop who, in two's, began circling around his flank in order to enter. As he moved in he heard a voice, unmistakeably female, unshaken and impossibly stern amongst the bloody happenings around her. Stoically, she spoke only two words.

"We're closed."

Though raised and living amongst his own kind his entire life, BuggRust understood a fair share of the common tongue, and this phrase was familiar to him. He smiled again, admiring this human woman, though he could not see her he respected that she stood stubbornly against her orc invaders while other human women (and even some men) screamed and cowered before being slaughtered. He would enjoy killing her and would remember her fondly.

The cross-breeze of air caused by the now-open front door and earlier broken windows swiftly released the smoke and dust hanging within the room. It swirled about, forming half-circles of gray and black before clearing away, revealing a stout, diminutive woman only 14 or 15 feet away. Her long red hair neatly resting on plump, voluminous breasts in two braids which nearly reached her waist. She wore an apron, brown, long-dried blood crusted it in an incongruous pyramid shape that came to a point just below her neck. She held a crossbow up to her handsome, though lined with toil, face. One eye squinted while the other looked down the bolt shaft, aiming carefully along it's red fletching. Her intended target was clearly BuggRust, as he was the first to intrude.

BuggRust's grin faded hastily as she loosed the bolt in his direction.

"Cakk!" was BuggRust's last word.

It struck true, splitting BuggRust's forehead, sinking in all the way to the fletching Magda had aimed along. BuggRust's hands, contracted then relaxed causing him to lose grip on his falchion which crashed mightily to the floor, before contracting again to grip nothing. He rocked back on his heels, still alive he heard ringing in his ears, it seemed to be miles away and moving away further still but it was there. The slight sensation of blood on his face and in his eyes brought his memory back to his first village. Made his mind regress to the last time his father had attempted to drown him, after he had been released once more just before death. He remembered how this time, he'd left a hand-axe under some dead leaves near his father's favorite rain barrel. Remembered how, once adequately recovered, he reached under the leaves to take the axe in his hand. Felt the heft of it, felt the rush of adrenaline as he snuck up behind his father, still cursing his freakishly scarred weakling son of whom he was so ashamed. Remembered burying the business end of the axe into the back of his fathers skull, once again felt the spray of his warm blood upon his face. Felt the stream of red as it poured down the axe handle and over his tightly clenched fist to run between his fingers.

In his minds eye he watched his dead father fall forward as, nearly dead himself, BuggRust fell backward. He felt ashamed at his impending death but thanked Gruumsh for allowing him to relive this moment, his life's most cherished memory. By the time BuggRust crashed to the floor resting in the doorway he had so violently entered just seconds ago, he was dead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Magda handed the crossbow she'd just fired to the boy as he slid the one he'd just reloaded to her along the table. She picked it up, satisfied at her kill but lacking any time to celebrate she aimed down the crossbow at another orc who had just passed beyond the now-dead orc's left flank. He moved to engage one of the standing barbarians.

Magda fired again and this time struck the orc in the throat, he dropped his falchion before reaching his prey, futilely throwing both hands up to cover the open neck-wound. The nearby barbarian threw his hands up to shove the dying barbarian over a chair. The orc tumbled over it, spraying blood in several directions through clenched fingers. The barbarian stumbled, his knees trying hard to buckle, but remained on his feet.

The boy was struggling mightily to load his crossbow, his hands shook nearly uncontrollably as a second orc approached from the right. Two others, armed with crossbows themselves, approached from the left. The boy could feel his death approaching by the moment, and his fear was mirrored in the movement in his hands.

Magda spied the two orcs approaching from the left and with a mix of relief and terror she watched hopelessly as the other barbarian closed to impede their progress. He reached up weakly and attempted to grab at the crossbow the first orc held. The orc moved swiftly to avoid the grapple and backfisted the barbarian across the jaw. A loud crack was heard as the barbarian spun off his feet and into a chair causing him to fall hard to the floor. The orc paused, raised his crossbow and loosed a bolt into the prone barbarian who moaned inhumanly, the sound akin to what an injured whale might make when harpooned.

The barbarian's imminent death bought the table-boy enough time to lock the bolt into place. No sooner had he done so had Magda snatched it away from him, leaving her empty one beneath his violently trembling hands. He picked it up and again began fumbling with the drawstring.

Magda instinctively raised the loaded light crossbow and fired without truly aiming in the direction of the orc who'd just shot the helpless barbarian. Again, her bolt struck orc flesh though not where she had intended. Disappointed, she watched as the orc doubled over, the pain of being gut-shot overcoming him. He fell to one knee, as his left hand covered the wound. The bolt had disappeared beneath his armor and, for all Magda knew, lay deep within his bowels. As he slowly lowered forward, Magda watched helplessly as the orc behind him raised his crossbow toward the two clansfolk.

Instinctively, Magda turned her shoulder toward the boy to shield him.