The Butcher of Gadobhra

"Shut yer yaps an' gather round. I only want to have to say this a dozen times!" Rory was standing on the back of a cart and trying to get the clan's attention, a difficult job in the best of times, made harder by the fatigue of a long journey and the excitement of seeing unicorns. The Summer Lord's lands were infested with them, and by now, both Rory and the goats were getting tired of the horn ponies. They were playing silly games, running in to tag one goat after another. Rory had finally been forced to take the extreme action of taking the muzzle off of Legchomper and turning the monster loose. Legchomper was smaller than the horn-ponies but meaner, faster, and hated most anything that moved. Rory was hopeful that with so many of the creatures, the Lord of the Land wouldn't miss one or two, and the others would learn a lesson.

"What's up, Rory? We're free and safe now. Them badgers will never catch us. It's their stumpy little legs. They move too slow." Everyone thought Beetlebob's statement explained the situation well, and they cheered his statement and assumed the matter was settled. The clan was a little slow on the uptake today. Someone had traded for a pitcher of cream at the fair, and many of the adults were half drunk this morning after putting too much of the white stuff in their coffee or tea.

"I'm not worried about the damned badgers! It's where we're headed that troubles me some. I thought that we'd be serving the Countess in her newly conquered realm. Granted, it's a poisonous hell populated by carnivorous lizards and plants, with entirely too many thorn bushes and rippy fish, but that's all stuff we've dealt with before and can again. But I've been informed that her new realm is going through some reconstruction and is now populated by horrid beasts that are eating the poison, the lizards, the thorns, and everything else. Even the rippy fish are gone. We need to stay away until it's safer. The Countess is currently living in the other lands she conquered." He let that sink into their drink-befogged brains before he dropped the worst news.

"In the mortal realm."

Every face fell. While none of them had ever been to the mortal realms, everyone knew about it.

"Is that the place with no magic in the air, and the animals don't wear hats?"

"Oh no. I'm not having it. I've heard that the place is infested with humans."

"He's right! Humans have feet and too many shoes that need repair. You'll never get a good night's sleep again."

"And every city has dozens of them running around! That's not right. The bigger you are, the less there should be of you."

"I hear one of the Princes went there and got all his bits chewed off!"

"My great-great-great-grand pappy said you can trade cobbling for cream!"

"You can all shut up, or I'll whistle for my goat and see who can outrun him. I think he's done terrorizing the horn ponies, and I can have him start chewin' your bits off next." Indeed, a very well-fed Legchomper was trotting back to the wagons, a smug look on his face. Once the unicorns realized the goat was faster than they were, they'd led him to a chicken coop full of fat hens and nests of eggs. Luckily, the brownies would be gone before the destruction was found, and the unicorns tried to pin the deed on someone else. The threat did a lot to calm them down, and Rory managed to get a muzzle on his goat with only a few treats and threats.

"I know all the rumors, but we'll just have to make the best of it. Remember, this isn't some normal Fae Lady we signed up to serve. She's a crafty one and already has the favor of the king and has leverage on the gnomes. She pitted them against each other and came out on top. I'm sure she's done the same with a gaggle of humans. They probably worship the ground she walks on. We'll be leaving this lovely, rustic realm of the Summer Lord and heading into the wilds of mortal lands tomorrow. I have a map of sorts, and it shouldn't be more than a day or two to arrive at her castle in Sedgeville. Sedgetown? Something like that. Keep a lookout for signs along the way. Now get some shut-eye, and we'll be on the road at sun-up."

Beetlebob was still disgruntled by the change. He was slow to adapt and had been looking forward to seeing the dire beasts up close. "Do we at least know what the weather is like, Rory? I've heard no one controls it in the mortal lands, and the clouds get to decide every day."

Rory had expected that question. "I talked to one of the humans that minds the Lord's vineyards. He claims the days are mild, with rain once or twice a week this time of year. Some leaves change color, but otherwise, not much happens. Later on, they get a smidgeon of frost and an inch of snow once a year. The big storms stay up north and keep the mountains covered in snow year-round. Sounds like they have the weather tamed just right."

"I'll be wearing my short trousers then, Rory, and a light hat."

"You do that, Beetlebob, and thanks for keeping me updated. Many a night, I've tossed and turned wondering what pair of pants you'd put yuir fat ass into the next day. Now shut it and let me get some sleep. I was braving the perils of the road for longer than the rest of you!"

Despite their misgivings, there was some excitement in the camp. Rumors were one thing; seeing was another, and tomorrow, they'd get to see the fabled mortal lands.

Far away, the Smoke and the Air were still fighting. The battle between Old Smoke and Blackgut had moved the borders between Smoke and Air, pushing Air into the Cold and Wet and starting a pissing match between the more powerful denizens of those realms. Cyclones took any excuse to redraw boundaries, reclaim old regions, and start fights. Long after the reason for the first battle was over, the wrestling matches were still going on. They ended with Air stealing some land from Cold and Wet, pushing on the other side. A chunk of the Cold with some young cyclones got pushed down to the conjunction. The hurricanes found the wake of a Smokejammer, and being that they were lazy, spiteful, and didn't care where they were ending up, followed it into the conjunction. The conjunction proved to be everything they'd heard of: High mountains where no one claimed dominion and hot, moist air that begged to be conquered. The larger cyclones claimed domains in the mountains, and the little storms split up, bringing snow, cold, and ice to a large area of the Northern Empire and further parts past it.

In the lands of Maple Priests, an old sage spotted the first snowflake and blew a large horn, announcing that 'Winter was Coming!' to everyone. Barrels were rolled to the groves, the sugar shacks made ready, and the giant cauldrons put on fires. It was time to make the syrup.

Rory and his train of carts traveled through the lands of the Summer Lord easily; the road was smooth, and nothing bothered them. The Lord even sent a hound to escort them. He was an older hound and claimed to be very knowledgeable about parts of the mortal lands. He and Rory shared a few jokes about badgers, and the brownie gained some solid canine advice. Before they left by the far gate, he passed on what he had learned from the hound.

"Alright, I have a scouting report. The hound says to expect some magic on the other side; it isn't a barren wasteland like we've been told. The mortals aren't born with magic, but they can learn it if taught early. Don't let them trick any of your charms or spells from you. Next, there are some packs of animals running around that you don't mess with. The squirrels are more likely to attack than to trade with you. Very touchy after losing a war. And stay away from the ugly cows. The milk is bad, the meat is poison, and they have wyverns guarding them. Fast wyverns. There are three main areas where the humans live. The first are some traditional farms and villages. I'd head there, but a Dryad has already staked out the area and built a Tea House. We'll have to talk to her and see if she minds us fixing shoes and doing odd jobs. The next area is a strange old village that's been around for a few centuries. We may find the Countess there. The hound says she has the humans fooled into thinking she is one of them, and she rules the place with a velvet glove. The third is bad. Gadobhra. One of the eight ancient cities, and it's coming awake. We'll stay away from it if at all possible. Some Baron rules it and is making deals with the Fae Lords. The hound suggests we head to Sedgewick village, and that's where I'm leading us."

The hound barked.

"Oh, and he says be careful of the road down. It's a mite steep."

The carts began moving again and lined up at the gate leading to the mortal realms, the clan awaiting one of the Summer Lord's people who would open the way for them. Instead, it was the Summer Lord himself who approached Rory at the front of the caravan. His brow was furrowed in thought, and two bedraggled unicorns followed him. The clan became quiet, and Rory felt his stomach clench and drop into his boots. Legchomper had a snarl on his face as he saw the unicorns and a few chicken feathers were still stuck in his coat. All of the clan bowed their heads.

"My grooms tell me that a goat of surpassing speed and aggression has been harassing the unicorn herds, moving them from pasture to orchard and terrorizing them with nips at their heels. The unicorns offered up the chickens in an attempt to appease the goat, which led the cooks to complain to my steward, who interrupted my nap. Is this true?"

Rory looked at Legchomper; it would be a sad thing to lose such a goat, especially when it was his decision to let it loose. "Tis true, M'lord, but it was me that turned the goat loose on yuir flocks. It was spiteful of me; the horn ponies were just playing their silly games, and I should have suffered a little delay in our trip rather than give in to my temper. The decision was mine and no other, and I accept whatever punishment you wish to impose on me." He kneeled, awaiting his fate.

Alwyn walked to Legchomper, who lunged at his harness in an attempt to butt against him. The Fae Lord seemed amused and removed the goat's muzzle, immediately losing a glove to Legchomper's sharp teeth and nearly his fingers. "Quick to lunge, fleet of foot, spiteful, and intelligent. And he dislikes unicorns. Tell me, Rory of Clan Brindleberry, will these traits breed true? Will all of this brute's progeny be like him?"

Rory had tears in his eyes as he looked at the goats pulling the carts. "Aye, I suppose so. A few are tamer, but any that have Legchomper's blood in them are as mean-tempered and as fast as he is."

Alwyn gave Legchomper his other glove and, fearlessly, patted him on the head. The clan held their breath at the daring feat. "Splendid. That's just what I need! After you are settled in the mortal lands, find the Shepherd and ask him to train a pair of young goats from this monster's line. The faster and meaner, the better. I need herd beasts for my unicorns, and these lovely animals will do just fine. The hedges and flower bushes need trimming as well; I'm sure the Shepherd can teach them the basics of that, also. Would you like gold in payment or a small favor?"

"A small favor is quite acceptable, M'lord." Rory knew how this worked. If he had asked for gold, the Lord would keep it to pay for the chickens. Likewise, the small favor would be honored by ignoring the damage done by his goat.

The Lord surprised him by bending low and holding out his hand. Rory shook it. "A pleasure doing business with you, Rory of Clan Brindleberry; I look forward to the delivery of my herd beasts and watching them do their work. And please, don't fret about the chickens. I understand that you are traveling to enter the service of Countess Suzette. Your diligence in arriving on time is commendable, and it led to my discovery of your wonderful animals. When your clan needs to redeem the favor, please send someone here to me."

Rory could only nod. Alwyn walked away, the hound at his side and the cowed unicorns following meekly. Once they were gone, Rory yelled out, "Wagons, HO! Let's get moving before something else happens."

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