Fresh From the Hedge

A Crab a Spider and a Zomie Walk into a Bar

Alan's Tale: episode 2

It would be hard to say that I feel comfortable in my new home, but I had actually achieved dreamless sleep for the first time this week. Until, ooooh, about 5am. This time I can’t blame Ward’s snoring. He wasn’t even in the bed. There was a bustle downstairs though. I was ready as always with my clothes on in case of a sudden need to bolt.

As I dashed downstairs I managed to catch a glance of the creatures through the cracked door as Whislter slammed it. My new home was in trouble.

As the adrenaline and blood pumped through my veins, I barked orders to my shocked friends in the dining area. Even our mentor Bishop Tom was in tears, paralyzed from action with fear. As the door nearly rattled open I threw my back against the door. Out of my peripheral, through the window, I took a closer look at the invaders. Easily hundreds of these mutant crab spiders the size of dogs at the door. After several minutes of this silent tug of war by new companions proved resourceful. Molotov cocktails rained on the creatures from the second floor.

After a few minutes we were able to properly barricade the door. Whistler and I formed a plan to try and preserve our new found home and friends. We would attempt a surprise assault and, at least take down as many of the creatures as we could. As we charged out from the side door the spiders fled before us.

The creatures were shocked, and panicked as we charged towards them. I told Whistler to see to the defenses of the Freehold. I chased the pack to see what foul agent was responsible for their creation. As I cut a sharp turn around the corner I saw them join with another group of the creatures to from one 20 foot tall monstrosity. I know the Freehold would be in trouble so I needed to lead it somewhere else.

Unfortunately it had other plans. As it charged past me I leapt on its back trying to stop it before innocent people got hurt. It employed its magical defenses, surrounding its shell with gouts of flame. As it charged for Whistler I knew it was up to me. I scaled its back and just before it stampeded through my friend I reached its head and stabbed my trusty Pen Knife through it’s brain, bringing it crashing and skidding to halt just in front of my friend and the freehold.

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Palantier

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