Frostgrave

Clock Blockers Time Sheet---3

TomeClock.jpg“What The Fuck!?!??! What The Fuck!?!?!? I didn’t sign up for this Man! I’m outta here! I’m the FUCK outta here!!!” cried Howars the Archer as he desperately tried to wipe his best friends splattered, frozen blood from his tunic. seeing that was futile he clumsily gathered his bow and back pack to him and began to stand up. The gash in his leg began to gush forth it’s crimson warmth and Howars collapsed back down on the turned over grave stone that the Clock Blockers were using as chairs around the fire. His face was pale as a ghost as he mumbled quietly himself.

“Secondz Jr. It was his first fight. He was so excited and they…they…k…”

“We all lost someone close ta us that last battle. Who’d a thought that the one warm place in this cold hell would hold so much death.” Said Sir Geyrs as he looked mournfully at the newly turned earth that shallowly held his friend, Sir Pendulum. Upon the dirt, acting as a headstone was a sword, a shield and mail armour. Newly cleaned, polished and left behind.

“Wot we need ta do is march up there to the tent of our Saint Del Rolexx and demand to get our fair share of da loot. When I signed on to da church of the Goddess of Time as a Knight I had no idea I’d be assigned to this forgotten place. I’m needed elsewhere! And damned if I’m going ta walk outta here wit empty pockets.” That said Sir Geyers prepared to stand up, his eyes stared fixedly on the Wizards tent. But something held him back— twenty two pounds of sharpened metal held him back.

“Sit down.” Says Mourning Buzzer the barbarian with a voice that seemed to come from a dark pit. He held his flameburge with one hand across Sir Geyrs’ abdomen while his eyes were fixed on the fire coals. Everyone knew Buzzers’ twin brother, Stitch’n, was shot in the back by fell magics as he tried to run back to the Warband with newly discovered treasure. If anyone had an argument with the Chrono Apostle it would be this uncivilized savage. He pulled back his serrated blade as the Knight sat back down upon the stone seat.

“We are pawns in this game.” Buzzer stated philosophically. “Heal, then battle then heal again. Eventually our number is going to come up and we will be replaced.” The barbarian noded to the east as three figures steped out of the graveyard mist. Two thieves of lowly countenance, looking feral and beaten like a couple of hyenas, hungry for an easy kill. Trailing behind them was a girl , not yet 7 years old dragging a blood stained bow and covered in ill fitting leather armour that she inherited from her dead father who recently inherited it from his dead father.

“Secondz Jr Jr.? No…it can’t be!” cried Howers.

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