Key and explanation of periods where Juggernaut was stronger or weaker than normal

For sale is a Mcnees PM Mac2 3.0. This is the 3” version in magnacut. Finish is green matte stonewash. The knife is in excellent condition, one slight smudge on the blade is the only thing I can see. Blade is very sharp and appears to me to be factory edge. This is a great edc size knife with great action and drops shut with a slight wiggle.
450 ppff shipped - no trades
https://imgur.com/a/uMm58Oe

I work at a Ford dealership, and basically only work on Fords. RAM Rebel comes in for a works. Everything goes well (besides burning my thumb on hot oil trying to get the oil filter out). Not trying to rush but I am ready to go home since they came in less than an hour before the end of my shift. To my surprise, we have the correct wiper size and the customer wanted them per my recommendation! I’m used to F150 wiper arms that don’t need to be pushed back far to lock into place, but I guess I didn’t push the wiper arm back far enough on the passenger side for this truck and now they need a new windshield! Yikes! Please tell me someone else has done this, I feel so horrible :(

Which Wiper blades should I get for a 1993 Range Rover Vouge SE? They attach with J hook but I'm not sure about which size/brand to get. I've heard Bosch are good

CONUS - PayPal FF/Zelle/Cashapp/BTC/ETH - Chat Preferred - Ask Me Any Questions - Free Shipping with Multiple Bottles Purchased or Regular Size Bottle Purchased From My Other Listing - Please Comment Before Chatting / PM
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The little cluster of rocks wasn't much, but the cabling and paneling and sundries that had lashed them all together marked them as being a part of the asteroid belt known as the Reef. It was a nest of scum, the sorts that had been banned or kicked out of the Tangled Shore, that even The Spider didn't want to associate with. Because it was where the worst sorts filtered down to, the locals called the area "The Trench." Awoken enforcers never went near it, unless they had numbers and firepower at their backs.
In recent months, the Trench had become more crowded. Ships of all stripes had parked around it-- Eliksni ketches and Cabal cruisers, Awoken galliots and Arcadian shuttles. The makes meant little, as they were frequently stolen. The livery and banners they flew all varied, but there were two specific ones worth noting. One was blue and bore a sigil of a broken sword stabbed into a stylized crown, the other black and portrayed a stylized Eliksni skull with an upper jaw full of jagged teeth. The banners of House Salvation and the pirate lord Gresdin Sawtooth.
A skiff dropped out of a short-range jump and docked itself between a sloop and a cobbled-together transport, both of which had their old livery scored and scratched away. As the skiff's captain disembarked, he could see that crews were already at work painting Sawtooth's standard onto them. A vandal stepped out in front of him, crashing into him, but the vandal took one look and thought better of finishing their scowl, instead scuttling away to another ship.
Similar reactions followed, even from a few of the Legionless Cabal that plodded the walkways of the Trench. But soon enough, the skiff captain approached the Trench's topmost suite of cabins. Two Eliksni guards glared at him, but he stared them down in kind, until one turned and barked into the cabin, "Tell them the Technomancer's back."
But the Technomancer-- a Fallen reaver named Bansiks-- raised his bulky mechanical arm and shoved the two House Salvation Elites out of his way as he barged into the cabin. His synthesized voice rasped as he approached the high table. "Lord Gresdin," he called.
Several other figures were clustered around the table, turning toward him as he approached. One was just Kalsek, one of Gresdin's lieutenants, bristling with indignation-- but not just from Bansiks's interruption, the Technomancer could tell. Kalsek was more angry about the two interlopers at the table. Both were Eliksni, and one towered over all present at the table, wearing scarred armor and clutched in his lower hands was a heavily modified forge hammer, the head of which glowed with Scorch energy. He stood behind an older Eliksni seated at the table, but Bansiks could see the lightly-armored elder's own scarred body beneath the faded, priestly robes he wore. Both wore the blue banner of House Salvation.
He knew them both by reputation. The giant was, despite his size, the lesser of the two, a retainer to the elder. One of the many outcasts of the scattered House of Scars, he had become a reaver in his way, taking part in pirate raids and eventually seeking more glory for himself in the Last Attempt at conquering the human City. He had been captured along with many others and languished in the Prison of Elders, but had escaped along with so many others when the Prison had fallen, and eventually came to House Salvation, eager to smash the wretches that had defeated his people and imprisoned him. But in the end, Brekkis the Breaker was simply a brute to his core.
On the other hand, the elder, Morsik, was a former archon of a lesser House that had long ago fractured and fallen apart, one who had suffered much abuse in the time since, but largely at the hands of Lightbearers and the Reef folk. Drawn to Eramis by the promise of a reborn Riis, he had become a very effective recruiter for his new House, speaking in an almost hypnotic fashion as he whipped up the furor and fervor for revenge against the Lights for the pain they'd all experienced. It worked so well, it was little wonder why they called him the Demagogue.
Seated at the midle of the table, opposite the entry to the chamber, was a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested Eliksni. A bandolier strapped across his chest had several Shock pistols at hand, and though they were blocked by the table, Bansiks knew there was an array of swords and knives and similar bladed weaponry around his waist. His Ether-mask had a twice-bifurcated crest, two flanges of which twisted forward and down, almost like tusks, while the other two were bent into horns. The front of his mask had its grill wrought to resemble a mouthful of jagged fangs. He wore his own black standard, with one upper hand resting on the grip of his namesake sword, a zweihander with a jagged edge. Gresdin Sawtooth, pirate lord of the Trench, looked up at him.
"Bansiks," Gresdin acknowledged. But then he turned back to the House Salvation envoys. "For all she demands of me and mine, Eramis could not come herself, and sends you instead?"
"Eramiskel," Brekkis growled.
But the pirate lord slapped his palm on the table. "Not my Kell," he snarled back. "She disrespects me like this, she does not get that wisp of respect from me in turn."
The brute glowered down at him. "No one--"
"No one sends a thug like you unless they're trying to send a message," Gresdin interrupted. He turned his gaze instead to Morsik, dismissing the retainer immediately. "The Shipstealer expects much from me, and all the other crews that berth in my Trench." A rasping snarl rattled in his throat. "Running down and looking for old relics, but what does she offer in return? A vague threat that we will be allowed to live?"
"Eramiskel has been given purpose." Morsik's voice was soft, quiet, the kind that forced the listener to strain to hear, and to thus better absorb his words. "To revisit the pain our people have suffered upon those who inflicted it."
"Lightbearers," Brekkis snarled.
"You know better than others, Lord Gresdin," the Demagogue continued, "that our people are plagued by weakness. Those with the means to lift us up simply won't make the decisions necessary to shape a place for us to live. No one, apart from Eramiskel."
"She wants trinkets that grant their bearers power," Bansiks rumbled, and raised a relic in his hand, setting it on the table in front of the pirate lord. "Iriks is dead," he told him. Brekkis made a move to reach for the lantern-like relic, but the Technomancer's bulky synthetic arm twitched up and extruded a blade that touched the brute's throat. "That's not for you."
Morsik's expression did not change, but there was the impression of a frown. "Eramiskel has asked for the relics."
"This is not the new Riis that Eramis ruled," Gresdin picked up the relic and passed it to Kalsek. "You are in the Trench, and this is my domain. Not even the Lightbearers dare come here. What makes you think you can make demands of me?"
The Demagogue placed two hands on the table as he ponderously rose, his scarred, aged body trembling some as he did so. Brekkis moved to assist him, but Morsik waved him off. The elder Eliksni stood with an almost regal air, and then slapped a hand down on the table. Cobalt blue ice crystals rippled outward from where he struck, spreading across the table, and then the floor, flash-freezing Kalsek in place, relic included. As the pirate lord bellowed in fury, Brekkis slapped aside Bansiks's blade and grabbed him by the throat.
"You think you have power," Morsik murmurred, as he lifted his hand, letting the pirate see the Splinter embedded in the gauntlet he wore. "But you do not. And there is a power beyond even this, which eclipses even the Light."
To the former archon's surprise, however, Gresdin began laughing. "Your House kneels to the Black Gale. But the Gale is not here--"
At which point, red SIVA clouds snaked out of Bansiks's gauntlet, winding around Brekkis and pinning him to the floor with hardened cables of metal. As this happened, the Technomancer raised his synthetic arm and the blade unfolded as the barrel of a cannon emerged from it. Morsik stared this down, raising his hands carefully. The Stasis crystals receded, Kalsek staggering as he was freed, and Gresdin arose from his chair, hefting his namesake sword to one shoulder with a speed that belied its weight.
"--and Gresdin Sawtooth bows to no one."
Morsik inclined his head thoughtfully. "How would you like to strike down the Reef folk?"
The Lord of the Trench paused, lowering his sword briefly, though not fully. "Explain."
"The man-folk and their Lightbearers have plagued our people since the moment we first reached this star. But only one of their Houses has ever enslaved Eliksni." The Demagogue spread his hands. "The House of Sov." Gresdin stared him down, but then glanced at Bansiks, gesturing subtly with a spare hand. The Technomancer lowered his cannon, but left Brekkis pinned under SIVA tendrils. With a nod, Morsik continued, "The apologists will say the broken Weavers swore oaths, but oaths made under duress are not binding, as they proved later when they rebelled."
"A rebellion that got them all killed," Kalsek pointed out.
"Because the man-folk will never let Eliksni live unless they kneel to their Lightbearers and to the Traitor Machine," Morsik spat. "If we start to rise back up, they send their ghouls to slaughter us."
Gresdin grunted again. "No one dares attack the Trench. Even the Lightbearers stay away." But he looked over as Bansiks shook his head.
"The Lightbearers have pirate hunters now," he reported. "Not only have they taken out several of the ketchkilers, they are hunting relics like that," he indicated the lantern in Kalsek's hands.
Gresdin chewed on that thought for a moment before Morsik folded his lower hands over his belly, the other set behind his back. "The relics have power. The old crews knew this." He eyed the pirate lord. "You broke from your House because your Kell was weak. House Blades was renowned for its prowess in battle, but Yovariskel had been too cautious to join the Last Attempt, and Koussakskel is too cowardly to seek the glory you crave. You earned your place as Lord of the Trench as befits your old House's ways.
"You have supporters in House Blades," Morsik continued. "They grumble and whisper and want their glories, but Koussakskel holds them back. A bold move on your part-- scouring the Reef of House Sov-- would galvanize them. They would flock to your banner. And Eramiskel would honor your deeds, and offer you pride of place as High Baron in her House, as admiral of Salvation's ketch fleet."
The pirate lord mulled this over, while Kalsek argued, "Why should Lord Gresdin lower himself to serve a kell who failed her House? The Lights defeated her, her House was scattered." But the expression on Gresdin's face told that he'd already taken the bait, and now the Demagogue just needed to reel him in.
"Perhaps her House had been weak," Morsik suggested. "And with you at her side to assure the strength of her followers..."
Bansiks looked at Gresdin, who regarded the elder with a long stare. Then, with a ponderous move, he planted the end of his jagged zweihander on the floor, and nodded to the cyborg Eliksni. The Technomancer stepped back from Brekkis as the cabling binding him down dissolved back into clouds of nanites, which withdrew into the tanks on his back.
"Then let us speak," Gresdin Sawtooth smiled, "of what your Kell will do for me."

Ok, I am thinking about slowly putting these rotes on the vault one tradition at a time. I would love some critics if anyone care to share them. This is what I am thinking about publishing for the Correspondence Sphere for the Akashayana:

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Correspondence

Under Moonless Light (Correspondence O)
Senses are the most devious chains of conditioning. They fool the mind into separating things as this or that, me or other. For humans, sight is specially intoxicating being our main crutch to stand in the world. It creates the highest boundary between what is perceived as internal or external, the inner world behind one’s eyes and the rest of the universe parading in front of them. Taking vision away from apprentices is one of the first steps of their training. Letting they trip and fall, get accustomed to the fear of not knowing and, eventually, learning to make friends with the darkness.
The Moonless light is that which shows mages a world beyond images or thresholds. The raw awareness of immediate presences, without form or color. It arises as the mage learns to be at peace with the darkness, to calm their breath and find their center. To rest in this indistinct place where things simply are. With their eyes closed or veiled, the mage can fight, run and climb just by trusting their instincts. They know who comes and goes by familiarity alone and, when threading dangerous roads are never caught unaware by enemies’ assaults.
System: This effect negates perception penalties by having senses blocked or being under poor sight conditions. The mage can also perceive the very nature of people and things they know, recognizing people under disguises or forgeries in the place of objects they know. All successes beyond the first actually reduce difficulties of all perception and dodge rolls against physical assaults and sudden movements.

Oceanic Presence (Correspondence O, optional Mind O)
The self is just a habit. It is a compulsive attachment to the sensations of a single body and the ego of a single mind. Meditation for the akashayana is not a path inward, but liberation from the illusion consciousness emanates from any one particular thing. The apprentice quiets the chattering thoughts and the knots of perception loosen enough so a better vantage point can be achieved. Identity decompresses and the akashayana returns to being equally the body that sits and dojo that shelters it, the whispering winds and the grass they caress, the endless clouds and the falling snow.
System: Successes increase an area of effect centered on the character's position: 1 success for a room (or area of X square yards/meters), 2 successes for a house or open field, 3 successes for a large building or mansion, 4 successes for a city block or entire monastery. The movement of large objects and creatures can be sensed without much effort, but anything more subtle or minute may require perception checks.
Due to the dissolute nature of this effect, things happening just beside the mage or on the edge of the area are equally vibrant. Without Mind O it can become so overwhelming the akashayana may lose track of their own body, incapable of any action but equanimous contemplation.

Visions of Dharma (Correspondence OO, Entropy O, optionals Time OO / Mind OOO)
Life is ten thousand stories sharing actors and stages. Events whose rhyme and reason are the gifts of Dharma, the force which threads existence into beautiful tapestries showing the path of transcendence. The akashayana know everything is participating in this universal flow and by abandoning themselves to spontaneity they allow themselves to be guided by its currents. Calligraphy reveals the shapes of the distant lands between characters’ lines and their meaning, Poetry captures emerging emotional context of events and mantras remind of transcendent truth and the cyclical process of their realization. In the mind's eye, history being inscribed right at this moment rises as collages of thoughts, powerful artistic inspirations or half-forgotten conversations whose topics suddenly take prophetic undertones. Through art and contemplation, mages see the world as an extension of themselves, like breath or heartbeats, daydreams or memories.
System: At its basic form, this effect reveals what is going on in a distant place. Instead of painting a precise picture of a specific area, it covers large regions giving a general sense of whether things are going according to the experiences or expectations of the mage or if unexpected developments are at hand. Every success allows one clarifying question to be asked.
If Time OO is employed, questions can also involve crucial events leading up to that situation or the most likely outcomes or consequences in the immediate future.
If Mind OOO is used, additional successes can share the effect with different partners appreciating the performance at hand, this allows them to get their own impressions about events taking place based on their expectations and experiences and ask their own separate questions.

Maneuver: Palm of Peace (Correspondence OO, Matter O)
While sleepers perceive very little outside the main subject of their physical senses, the akashayana train to be mindful of a variety of tangential impressions. The subtext of thoughts, their emotional responses, the way their body reacts to the environment, these are all extra windows to apprehend reality. Disregarding prejudices about where things end and others begin gives them insights on how we flow into the things we hold and how our actions become us. A warrior and their weapons reconstructed as a menacing drop of ink expanding in tranquil waters of consciousness.
The palm of peace aims to disperse those violent clouds. It expands the equanimity inside the heart of the mage as gale. A physical strike, a release of breath and a twist of the Dao. In a flash of speed, a warrior is somehow separated from their weapons and taken by surprise by the sound of them landing impossibly far across the battlefield. Instruments of war scattered before violence can manifest. A potential source of delusion removed from samsara.
System: A successful strike is the focus of this effect, allowing an immediate roll of arete. One success removes drawn or visible weapons from the target’s grasp, two successes remove concealed weapons and three successes disarm the target completely, including ammo, armor and, in the case of technocrats, even technological trinkets and equipment they may use for their magick.

Retreats of Discipline (Correspondence OOO, optional Time OOOO)
The disciple strikes. In the motions of the kata they loses themselves. A hundred mirrors unfold at the edges of perception. Each reflecting the same motions, none repeating similar landscapes.
Another strike, another spín. The feet that rise from the temple's floor land on wet sand. The chirping of birds replaced by crashing waves. One familiar ground exchanged for another as illusions are cut and bent. The kata, though, remains unbroken.
The akasha is the timeless and spaceless primordial element. The void which holds all forms and records all experiences. Monks learned to access it through diligent exercises like katas, meditation, the folding of origami or the creating sand mandalas. Chasing perfection, awareness contracts making the rest of the world vanish. Different practices overlap as memories synchronize, multiple training grounds merging into one at the periphery of perception. Regardless of where the mage began, memory leads them to finish anywhere they vividly remember to have stood before.
System: This effect works in two moments. In the first, the mage builds up sympathy with a given place by constantly engaging in repetitive exercises. Successes dictate how long this sympathetic connection lasts: One successes lasts for a day or the next sunrise/sundown, Two for a week or lunar phase, three for a few months or a season, four for whole year and five makes it a permanent “waypoint” for the duration of the chronicle. Later on the mage can teleport back to that place with a single success no matter where they are provided they can perform the ritual action.
If Time OOOO is added to this effect, the mage can do the teleportation as a reflex action without a roll, but will have to endure a permanent point of paradox that will downgrade to temporary only once the effect is finally spent. Additional successes can be devoted to create more “charges” for the effect but also incur in extra permanent paradox points.

Maneuver: Formless Fluidity (Correspondence OOO, optional Life OO)
The body is but a vehicle for awareness. It is an illusory vessel composed of memories and energy woven together by expectation, trauma and karma. Wherever the ego believes itself, there will be a projected body providing samsara with a mobile prison of form. During their training, the akashayana are confronted with impossible movements. Sequences of jumps, dodges and rolls that shouldn’t be possible, trajectories and contortions that defy comprehension, and yet, they are masterfully demonstrated by their Sifus. Countless hours of training allow the akashayana to forge those experiences into temporary shortcuts out of the limits of form. They visualize their martial forms so strongly that they remake their arms and legs to fit their patterns and learn to perform transitions and strikes that ignore geometry.
In a second the monk being firmly held on a choke appears behind their opponent, grappling them; The fighter under the crosshair of a distant sniper kicks the guns out of their hands and the assassin suddenly stabs a victim is observed jumping across a window on the other side of the room by dumbfound bodyguards. Sleepers think they are observing feats of speed, awakened senses know better.
System: A basic success allows the akasha to reappear in a different position already performing an acrobatic maneuver or martial move on a 1 meter radius of their initial location. Every extra success triple the radios the character can cross. The Akasha must undergo a martial strike or acrobatic maneuver in the end point, as this is integral part of the focus (and, thankfully, doesn’t require an extra action, split dice pool or combat turn.)
If life OO is added, the mage reforms themselves ignoring wounds or impairments that have been inflicted in the previous turn. Only extra successes beyond the first can be used for healing and they cannot heal wounds that weren’t just inflicted.

Maneuver: The Merciful Fall (Correspondence OOOO, optional Spirit OOOO)
Reality is a product of perception. Wherever the mind imagines itself, it constantly projects a vehicle for its self-image. We become what we identify with and all akashayana eventually learn that conflicts are games of deception: Combatants trying to convince each other they’ve fallen into losing positions, defeated by their own illusions.
Through exhaustive martial training, the mage learns to make attacks not only with fists but with all of themselves. They push not only with muscles and technique, but with the experiences that shaped them. Their memories of sparring and being bested by much more skilled fighters are wielded as weapons of vertigo and confusion. Trips and tumbles gain metaphysical weight. Sweeps and throws become instruments not only to derail physical balance but to twist the samsara itself. Victims vanish on thin air dropping elsewhere in the vicinity confused and out of commission.
System: This effect can be used whenever the Akasha successfully takes an opponent out of balance with a martial strike. Successes define how far the opponent falls from the mage: One success means the target falls nearby but far enough they need to put effort to re engage. Two successes means the target finds themselves blocked by a significant physical barrier, behind a wall, on a different floor or inside a large trash can. Three successes means the target is effectively out of the fight, dropped in a place so far removed that it will be hard to even find their way back to the fight. If the mage is able to throw an opponent against others, success can be split to increase the number of targets making each vanish to a different place.
If Spirit OOOO is employed, on three or more successes the mage can send targets across the gauntlet.(In which case this is hardly considered a merciful technique anymore)

Maneuver: Form of a Thousand ( Correspondence OOOO, Life OOO, Mind O, Optional Matter OO / Life OOOO)
As the akashayana pursue enlightenment they start getting used to the illusory nature of physical boundaries. They learn to let go of fixed forms recognizing that mind is what supports the body, not the other way around. Meeting the demands of a fight becomes not only a challenge tackled by muscle but a puzzle solved through contortions of perception. They welcome multiple opponents as their forms blurs protruding half dozen of arms to party strikes, vanishing like ghosts out of the way of incoming blades and striking different directions as stacked reflections of a single person. One enemy receives a round kicking to the face, while another is grappled and thrown away. Close enemies are held at bay by a swirling spear while distant targets are hit by bow and arrow. Feet, heads, arms and legs rippling in and out from a central figure in the likeness of the ancient gods depicted in stone and tapestries.
System: Every success after the first allows the mage to concentrate and face a different opponent or wield a different weapon. The mage looks like superimposed versions of themselves sharing the same position for the duration of the fight. As new opponents come along or the mage finds new weapons to wield they can keep instantly creating more instances of themselves as each strike, dodge and party doubles as a ritual for the effect.
If Matter OO is used, the same weapon can be wielded against different opponents as they also unfold in multiple mirages.
if Life OOOO is used instead, the reflections of the mage can disentangle from each other becoming completely independent fighters only sharing a single health pool.

Mantra of Distant Tranquility (Correspondence OOOOO, Optionals Matter OO / Spirit OOOO / Time OO + Entropy OOOO)
The enlightened mind becomes one with the Tao. Its meditations are the reflections of the world itself and it bends samsara not to conceal but to express the ultimate truth. The mantra of distant tranquility is a secret used to protect monasteries of the tradition in times of war. It begins with the venerable master assuming the lotus position and leading a tune to which all other monks and apprentices will join. Its lines tell about the peace which is solely reserved for those that achieve complete detachment. A promised moksha that is always an inch away from our grasp.
As long as these mages keep chanting, all beings who have not joined the tradition and are not part of the akasha dharma see their attempts to approach frustrated. Vandals see the akashic temples retreat in proportion to their advances. If they ever take their eyes out of their destination, they find themselves back at the beginning of their journey, as if they never took a single step. Onlookers see forms rippling into a multitudes as trespassers fight to gain terrain, all being continuously pushed back as the ominous chant repeats itself from across space.
System: This effect makes approaching an area a matter of sympathetic connection instead of physical travel. Successes both to delimit the area covered as well as the pool potential trespasser must beat. One success covers the size of a room, two successes protects a house or floor of a building, three successes a large building or football field, four successes an entire monastery or city block and five successes an entire geographic region like a small forest or mountain top.
The effect prevents traveling in the specific direction of the mage, and those affected must roll willpower at difficulty proportional to their sympathetic connection. (Blood Related / lives in the area - Dif 6; Intimate friend / Visits often Dif 7; Social Acquaintance / has visited once Dif 8, Never physically interacted Dif 9). Critical failures reset all progress, as well as losing focus on fighting against the repulsion waves of the effect.
The mage feels opponents pushing against the effect and can always reinforce it with more successes, each extra arete roll inflicts one extra point of paradox. This rote is usually enacted as a group ritual that takes effect as soon as it begins and lasts for as long as the ritual persists.While similar effects can have their duration extended with extra successes this rote cannot due to how fast it starts acting and the inbuilt feedback mechanisms. If the mage stops concentrating or is interrupted the effect ends.
if Matter OO is added, this effect also distorts the trajectory of physical projectiles trying to breach the protected area and hit the mage. Threshold affects all rolls for aiming in that particular direction.
if Spirit OOOO is added, the threshold is also applied to attempts of intruding from beyond the gauntlet.
If Time OO and Entropy OOOO are added, this effect passes unnoticed by anyone that is not actively attempting to get into the area.Only those who plan to find the mage or the place they are protecting gets affected.

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link for the original project:
Basic Rotes for the Traditions

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The concept of shooting oneself in the foot is very much a Terran philosophy. While the Pubvians may plot and scheme against one another they always do so within the framework of their dominance philosophy. A Terran will, for no reason that can be explained, suddenly embark upon courses of action that lead to absolute disaster, including the destruction of carefully laid plans, even including the loss of their own life.
Thus, my Twelfth Law of Humans: A human will grab victory from the jaws of defeat and defeat from the grasp of victory in equal measure but what they will do with such accomplishments is nearly entirely up to chance. - P'Thok's Laws of Humans
Dead Terrans Still Kill - Blockbuster Lanaktallan Horror Movie franchise
It never fails. People always try me. They look at me and something in their brain tells them 'I can totally take that dude in a fight'. I don't know why. -Magnus Oathsworn
I love my brother, but I swear he could find a fight in a closet. - Surscee Oathsworn
Nakteti raised her head, blinking. She'd fallen over on her side and her nose had bled. Magnus was sitting up, frowning behind the clear macroplas shield of his combat suit. Surscee was still asleep and to Nakteti's eyes it looked like she had vomited and the suit's internal systems had cleaned it up. Chuck was still offline, his telltales blinking amber.
She looked at the four Terrans.
Chronotronic Knights of the Combine, she thought to herself.
She couldn't see their faces. The front of their helmets were armored, just three slashes where sensors were carefully guarded. The suits were sleek looking, with bulky shoulders and heavy equipment on the back.
Chuck had already broken their decryption and she was able to get a complete feed off of their armor.
All four of them were unconscious. Two were still having nightmares, another was shivering with mat-trans shock but nearing consciousness, and the last one was just starting to have their brainwaves and biological systems start to reset.
She couldn't remember her nightmare, just that it had ended with her screaming at a dead sky.
Nakteti knew she had stared at more than one dead night sky.
One of the Knights was obviously the leader. Of course, the rank of Lord Knight of the Black Rose might have something to do with it. Two were Lord Knights of the Sword, with the last being the Lord Knight of the Tome. Despite the voices, two were female Terrans, which Nakteti decided meant that all of them were using voice changers.
She had to admit, she didn't trust them.
She had read Terran history and knew that the Combine had seized control of Terran Space and the Republic, undermining the Republic during the war against the Mantid to seize power. That, in turn, had led to the rise of the TerraSol Imperium of Light.
The "Light" seemed to Nakteti to be the light of novasparks, planet crackers, and body incinerators.
She had checked their armor's time/date stamps, and the timestamps showed they were within a year of the estimated date of the attack on Terra and her colonies by the Mantid.
The question in Nakteti's mind, is just how xenophobic these Combine soldiers were. How they would truly react to a digital sentience that could walk around in a human sized frame.
How they would react to the twins.
While Magnus often appeared relaxed and easy going and Surscee was all smiles, gentle teasing, and laughter, Nakteti had seem them 'go to work' more than once.
Nakteti knew that Magnus's blade and Surscee's 'magic' would be more than a match for what the Combine troops assume was bleeding edge weaponry and armor.
She kept her eyes closed, lowering her head, using her armor's sensors, her datalink, and her retinal link to keep an eye on everyone else.
Magnus stood up, stretching, then moved over to his sister. He knelt down and shook her gently.
"Rise and shine, Arch-Magus," he said softly.
Surscee just groaned.
Nakteti waited until Surscee and the four Chronotronic Knights were on their feet until she got up. She feigned tremors and fatigue, following everyone out of the mat-trans chamber and into the primary control room.
One of the Knights, the Knight of the Tome, looked around.
"I don't know what it is, but I swear that it always feels like someone walked out just before we opened the door," he said.
"You're just paranoid," another said.
Other than that, they were silent as Magnus led the way out of the mat-trans facility. Like all three of the facilities Nakteti had walked through, the only path that was not sealed with heavy duty blast doors was a direct line from the front door to the central mat-trans chamber.
Once outside she waited for the four Knights to come out.
They stopped, looking around.
Buildings were blurred, with shimmering versions of themselves overlapping the most solid version. Shades flickered as they swept through the multiplicity of streets. The mag-line of the fusion plant that would normally be invisible was a glowing tube in the sky that visibly twisted.
A path wound between shimmerings. The path had half-meter wide and meter tall cylinders, attached to the ground with arm length rivets pinning the flanges down.
"Time is a little wobbily," Surscee said. She looked to the side at where a shimmering line of trees had limbs bowed with the weight of ripened fruit. She gave a sigh. "And lo, I rendered fruitless."
Magnus led the way slowly, with Chuck pulling up the rear and Nakteti holding tight to Surscee's hand.
The overlap between the temporal stabilizers made her stomach churn.
"These are disruptors and stabilizers?" the Knight of Tomes asked.
"Yes," Magnus said, pausing to check a red light. He opened the top and adjusted the controls. The red light winked out.
"You need something the size of a cargo ship to produce that," the Knight of Tomes argued.
"The Second Precursor War mandated some new developments," Magnus said. He looked around. "I was right. Keeping the area of effect tight is making sure we don't suffer any major disruptions to the structure itself."
"Second Precursor War?" the Lord Knight of Black Roses asked.
"Turns out the Mantid had an old set of enemies. The Lanaktallan, a herd species, and the Atrekna, a temporal adept species from another, dead, universe," Surscee said. She shrugged. "I do not know much, just what any other civilian knows."
"And the Mantid? We were fighting them too?" the Knight of the Sword with the toolkit hardcase on each hip asked.
"No. They are founding members of the Terran Confederacy. They fought the Lanaktallan and the Atrekna with us," Chuck said. "The Lanaktallan joined the Confederacy once they were defeated, in order to keep the Atrekna from devouring the universe."
"Huh," one of them said.
"We have to take another mat-trans to Alpha Layer. From there we move to the base of Space Elevator C19 dash 7A," Chuck said. "That's what we're using for a staging area."
"Why?" The Knight of the Tome asked.
"We're using the nanoforges and creation engines of our ship to manufacture the components needed to repair what we have to," Chuck said.
He got Nakteti's order to not explain that little bit after he finished talking.
"Low class forge and engines?" the Rose Knight asked.
"Yeah. Civilian grade," Nakteti lied.
They were silent again.
That hinky feeling strengthened but Nakteti kept quiet.
-----
Nakteti noticed that they never took off their armor. Not even to sleep. Not to eat.
She didn't say a word about the fact that Chuck handed out small temporal disruptostabilizers that would work in roughly a meter around the person holding it.
He didn't trust them either.
Magnus seemed cordial, Surscee friendly, toward the Chronotronic Knights, but Nakteti had known the twins for long enough to know that when they acted that way they were at their most dangerous.
She forbid them from boarding the ship. Telling them that there was dimensional barrier breaching damage to some systems and she could not update the ship's registry to include them as authorized personnel.
She eavesdropped on their complaints, but the Rose Knight counseled patience.
Nakteti made sure she was carrying both knives and her sword at all time. She made sure that they saw that using her gripping hands to hold onto something was an ingrained instinctive habit, so eventually they ignored her standing there, holding onto her sword tightly.
The repairs went faster.
Nakteti said nothing about the fact that the Knight of Tomes seemed to be the only engineer. The others just lifted and carried, and the Rose Knight often seemed slightly offended that he was asked to carry something, or turn it on or off, or just supervise the robots.
The work went slowly.
Michael insisted that separating the chronologically oldest layer first was the primary goal. Doing that would provide a baseline for the rest of the temporal banding and layers to be separated.
The Knights did nothing that Nakteti could grasp with her gripping hands, but she just felt that there was something off about the Knights.
Something strange.
They had avoided talking about, either changing the subject or ignoring any questions, what time period they were from after the Glassing. What their mission was or anything about it.
Nakteti understood military secrecy, but still, it made her catching hands itch.
The work went on.
-----
"Wait, so these so-called Atrekna showed up and somehow killed off all of humanity?" The Rose Knight asked. He was sitting at a console where Nakteti had had Chuck place the basic history of Terra and the Confederacy, as well as its predecessors.
"Yes," Nakteti said. "I was briefed more than once about the entire situation."
"How?" the Knight of the Tome asked.
"When I left it was called the Archeo-Reversion Temporal Attack," Nakteti said. "Apparently the Atrekna used the majority of their strength and power when they first arrived to try to reset humanity to pre-Glassing in the mistaken belief that humanity had been altered by the Mantid into a warrior servitor."
The Knight of the Tome shook their head. "How?"
"It involved their ability to alter time, to layer multiple time periods on top of one another, as well as other temporal attacks," Nakteti said. She spread her hands. "I'll admit, much of it was beyond my understanding. Then there was the Terran Xenocide Event. We're still not sure what caused that. While the ARTA only killed off roughly 20% of humanity, the Xenocide Event was catastrophic and happened roughly a year later."
"How many did it kill?" one of the Knights of the Sword asked.
"Over ninety-nine point nine nine six percent of the survivors of the first attack. They just dropped dead. The cloning banks cut out. The SUDS was offline," Chuck said.
"Then came The Vanishing, where the majority of the remainder, largely children, just disappeared, whether or not they had a datalink," Nakteti said.
"Then follow that with Shade Night," Magnus said. He tossed a slice of apricot in the air and caught it in his mouth. "That pretty much wiped out over seventy percent of the Galactic Arm Spur," he said, chewing on the apricot piece.
"So, how did you survive?" the Rose Knight asked.
Magnus shrugged. "Just lucky, I guess," he said. "I'm Pure Strain Human, largely unaltered. Living on a primitivism world. No datalink, no superluminals, none of it. Most of my family survived, although my mother disappeared after Shade Night."
"This just seems awfully convenient for you," the Rose Knight said.
"It's been anything but convenient," Nakteti said. "It threw the entire Galactic Arm Spur into chaos. Set back the war effort against the Atrekna and the PAWM both, nearly caused the surrender of the Unified Council to fail. That's not even counting over a dozen species attempting to take over former Terran systems."
She squeezed her blade with her gripping hands. "Catastrophic is a better term," she said.
Chuck looked up. "Michael says it's time to fire off the disruptor. That will separate the oldest temporal layer from the rest."
"It should also start up the master massive catastrophic trauma processing system," the Knight of the Tome said. "That should allow the repair teams to start fixing things."
Nakteti stood up, brushing her hands off. Magnus threw half of the remaining apricot to his sister, tossed the seed into the reclamator, then shoved the rest into his mouth.
Chuck nodded.
The Arch-Angel materialized. "I cannot proceed without master authorization."
The Rose Knight stepped forward. "Proceed."
Michael looked at the Knight. "Authority rejected."
The Arch-Angel turned to Nakteti. "Do you wish to proceed."
"Initialize," Nakteti said.
Michael flickered as there was a loud thrum that Nakteti felt in her bone marrow rather than her skin. She tasted sweet cherry-plums and tinfoil for a moment.
"Temporal Layer Zero separation confirmed," Michael said. "Uploading necessary tasks for next separation."
Nakteti just nodded, turning away.
Her hack into the armor had let her see the look of fury on the Rose Knight's face when Michael had rejected his authority, and the deepening rage, to the point his eyes began glowing amber, when Nakteti's authority had been accepted.
She filed that away as a problem that would soon manifest.
The work went on as the two temporal layers separated.
At the Zero Layer, damaged systems, repaired by Team Three's remnants and Nakteti's team, struggled to activate. The Zero Layer Michael managed to boot up.
The Zero Layer Michael reached out and managed to activate the master massive catastrophic trauma processing system.
The program took stock, enacting emergency protocols.
It reached out, looking for any I/O Port it could.
It found one.
-----
The garage was dim, a fire crackling in between two luxury cars that were rusted hulks.
A large burly man clad in heavy armor sat on a tree trunk he had dragged from outside, staring at the fire. One hand was idly scratching the petting nerve of a heavily armored canine unit. He held a bottle of whiskey in the other hand that he kept lifting up the bottle and pulling drinks off of.
The level of the bottle never lowered.
There were sparkles in mid-air and a series of harsh beeps, bongs, and a few electronic twangs with a background of loud static.
The man dropped the whiskey bottle as he stood up, his other hand dropping to his thigh to grab the butt of a pistol as it was deployed from the hidden compartment in the cybernetic leg. He drew it and stepped back.
The Emergency Services I/O Port in the ceiling flickered and came on.
A man made of swirling blue code stood next to the fire.
"Can anyone hear me?" he asked.
Daxin just blinked, staring at the first manifestation of the Digital Omnimessiah.
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[F] Jocoby Malor
994 .M41 - Torian sector; Plotesian Sub
The Bane of Foes, a colossal strike cruiser, sailed through the warp like a leviathan of the sea. The ship, as vast as a celestial metropolis, sailed through the clawing, shrieking madness of tortured non-reality. Its gellar field, a supernatural armor, protected the vessel from the grips of phantasmal beasts and unborn nightmare horrors.
Studded along this behemoth's titanic form were macrocannons. Double-edged like a sword, they flanked the ship, five to each side. This bulky planet destroyer, a testament to the gothic fury of the Imperium, held the capacity to tear asunder ships twice its size - a feat it had enacted on numerous war fronts within the depths of the Torian sector. Nestled beneath it lay orbital gun platforms, divine instruments of judgment designed to reduce cities to cinders. Fusion beamers, lascannons, railguns - all primed, all thirsty for the blood of the God Emperor's foes. The Bane was poised and ready for battle as it sailed towards the planet of Nialos Prime. It stood ready to enact divine retribution of the throne.
Within this monolithic beast, servitors labored in the hull, walked the gantries, and codified the data. These grotesque hybrids of flesh and machine labored without end, tireless drones who analyzed vast reams of data and shifted munitions, several tons in weight, to the ship's weapon batteries. Serfs, the fallen aspirants of the Trioris Valorum, navigated this frenetic chaos with a practiced ease, born of long servitude. Cloaked in cream-colored robes, they were entrusted with the sacred rites within the strike cruiser - from honing enormous swords twice their size in weight and height, to inscribing bolt shells with holy prayers of deference and hate to the God Emperor.
In the landing bay stood the Astartes, Space Marines! Humanity's stalwart guardians and the lantern bearers in this age of cosmic darkness. Each one was a walking testament to war. Humans reborn by gene science and baptized in the furious flames of battle, were holding at bay the monstrous terrors of the galaxy.
Five full squads were formed in disciplined rows, their poise echoing the martial precision of an army of angels. Jacoby Malor and his squad brothers of the Knights Of Valor Chapter stood ready for their debriefing and prayer ritual - an old and venerated fraternity, These Knights were tempered in the hearth of ceaseless battle and honed into a killing edge.
The bay itself was also a hallowed sanctum for those embarking into the jaws of death. Flickering candles and braziers filled with potent incense transformed it into a cathedral of imminent battle. Serfs chanted in High Gothic, their voices rising in a litany of war and honor. In a panoply of lightning yellow and stormcloud gray, the serfs attended to each warrior's power armor with devotion. Deftly anointing the Aquilas on their breastplates with twice blessed oil, stamping purity seals and the oaths of moment to shoulder guards, and securing the tools of wrath to their waists.
Jacoby was attached to Tactical Squad Numion, designation: Bladed Light. The fourth squad within the Third Battle Company. Led by Brother Sergeant Simon Traegle, his brothers in arms, a ten-man squad, carried their own legacy of battle within the contingent.
There in front, stood Lance Fultar. He had been with the squad since before the Sergeant was honored with his current role. He was the Sergeant’s second and the banner bearer for the squad. Aloft on his power pack was the banner itself, obsidian like the void. In the middle of the ancient, heavy fabric was a sword pointing to the heavens. Achievements were written in exquisite scrawl design on the blade's length, depicting the deeds the squad took part in throughout its centuries of service. Angels in gray robes were on either side of the tapestry. One hand raised to blare a horn while the other gripped a shining sword the color of citrine hilt down. A laurel wreath with a gold ribbon above it surrounded the sword's tip. The ribbon had the words “Duty Unto Death” stenciled in bold High Gothic. There, to his front right was Travis Hoatepion, heavy weapons and explosives expert, his Heavy Bolter held in both gauntlets. He led two other heavy weapon specialists within the formation. Saulinious Fugïr and Paul Rottly, who held Plasma Cannon and Multi Melta, respectively. To either side of Jacoby were Johan Holt and Caspian Hellteris, his Faetutiuos Coditum, his Fate's Companions. They began together as aspirants. They trained together as neophytes. Now, they fight together as full-blooded Astartes. For, in the fifty-six years of warring together, this would be their first time serving in an actual Blade squadron. No more sensoria scenarios. No more live-fire exercises. The yoke was off, and he was glad to have his Fated by his side in this action.
Serfs crescendoed in their dirge as three more giants walked into the bay from a side hatch. Their steps were heavy enough to shake the braziers and flicker the candles in their stands. With a final note of solemnity, the serfs stepped back behind the formation and filed out as the trio continued forward.
To the right of the trio was Steward Romero. One of five war priests who held the chronicles and deeds of the chapter. Skull helmet on and in all black, save for his left pauldron which held the chapter symbol, he came like a death that was promised - a living legend and spiritual guide, he would stoke the flames of hate when the time for battle commenced.
To the left was Blade Saint Chrolorian Rex. Company champion and hero, even to the Astartes assembled, was regal in his manner. Smooth, flowing, every swaggering step speaking to his skill as a bladesman. His power armor was richly adorned and ornate with battle honors, his very being seemed to glow with a radiant gleam. His broadsword, Indominus Valorus, hung behind his back just as he hung behind his Fated.
That fated brother was Captain Kylen Rostone, centermost in the trio. Liege lord and commander of the company. His half cloak was draped over his right side. The powered longsword, Wrath, was scabbarded and hung on the same side. His left arm, as if dipped in its substance, gleamed silver displaying the Deathwatch iconography in bold italics on the same shoulder guard. Command radiated off of him as he continued forward.
All three came to a halt in front of the formations of battle-hardened killers. The Captain, with his helmet under one arm, took his time scrutinizing his warriors. His face was relaxed, yet firm. Like old leather, it was creased and pitted with age. A scar ran diagonally from his forehead to jaw line. All those details were rendered moot compared to his eyes. Emerald bright, his rich green gaze landed on each of his warriors' helm-lens, searching for doubt or a lack of resolve, and they stared back in turn. Fervor evident in the way they tightened their fingers around their weapons and the slight puffing out of chests. Seeing this he gave a small nod and began to speak.
"My Brothers, one knee!” Captain Kylen's voice boomed. His rich baritone reverberated like the tolling of a cathedral bell. As one, his battle brothers knelt before their lord, servo joints grinding with the simple motion. The Captain blinked and data was revealed as he spoke. “A Terran month ago, our chapter received a distress call requesting immediate deliverance from a cult of Tyranid breed xenos erupting within the Fortress world of Nialos prime and are, at this very moment, harrying loyal sons and daughters of our blessed Imperium.” Inside Jacoby’s helmet, a world started to revolve in his eyes, data spooling to the side of the turning sphere.
The Captain continued; “They have been fighting this protracted and planet-wide war that grows increasingly bitter as time presses on. To us, it has been three months of travel in the black sea. To them, five years of fighting without cease or respite.”
The Captain blinked and the data changed within all their helms. What was a world spinning with color, now soured to just a malignant purple. To Jacoby, it was like seeing a fruit putrefy in real time. Mortis runes appeared over the majority of the world's surface, denoting enemy-held territory while Aquila runes stamped themselves on the map in their visor displays. Five loyalist-held bastions formed a horseshoe along the east coast of the continent Granddita. Gold against the purple. ‘Light against the dark’ Jacoby thought.
“This is our last update, with 80% of the world firmly in the hands of these apostates.” The Captain continued, his voice swelling with tightly controlled intensity. “These five bastions are what's left of the defiance against the unclean. They would kill this world and offer it up to their false alien god! We will deny them! Deny them of their pagan rituals! Deny them their conquest! Deny them their lives! You! My brothers will add your support to this undertaking. We expect heavy resistance upon translation. Your duty will be to take out the anti aerial batteries on these coordinates.” The Captain blinked and data spooled. “Purge the taint where you find it, clear the areas, and let us bring righteous wrath and fury to these scum!”
“To your valor, my kin! We translate within the hour.” With his speech concluded and orders deliberated, the Captain stepped back as death stepped forward. Steward Romero raised his hands to chest height, Imperial Rosary in one gauntlet, and his Crozius Arcanum in the other. “Let us pray.” He intoned.

Hey there nerds and weirdos, here's my Beth May is a superhero, dungeons and daddies is the best, and hooooo boy did i realize i have a lot of baggage i need to deal with, appreciation post. Two weeks prior to thanksgiving 2022, an old high school friend of mine jumped into a rented ford MachE mustang, pointed it south and began the long trip to a cabin on Mount Hood, Oregon for a DnD weekend. We were both excited to continue our campaign we started earlier in the year. I’d get to reprise the roll of Snu Snu, half orc Barbarian, who is a dumb but smashy chap. I like my Dnd Characters to have a delusion, like the orc barbarian that was convinced he was a “blood wizard”, or the halfling rogue who was trying to convince everyone he was a brave warrior when in fact he was a coward. It’s fun playing flawed characters in Dnd, i think it sorta breaks the mold of playing heroes on an important quest. I like flawed characters in film, tv, literature, probably because I am a flawed character. Person. I’m a flawed person. I’m real, despite sometimes not wanting to be so some of the time. We started our journey in Seattle Washington, our GPS said it would be a four hour trip at two hundred and fifteen miles, the mache e was advertised to have a range of 110 miles…. I immediately realized I had made a critically failed my intelligence roll. 215 miles was greater than 110 miles. After two hours of bumper to bumper traffic, I needed to charge the car to get to our destination and despite my undeserved confidence, charging an electric car is more difficult and slower than I had expected. You have to find a fast charger, the right fast charger, and download the app associated with it, fill out a bunch of personal info, then start the charging process, which I remind you was referred to as “fast” but in fact takes over an hour. I’d fucked up. Our friends were already at the cabin we had rented, they had their character sheets in one hand, beers in the other and they were just waiting for us. I thought i’d already ruined the trip and we hadn’t made it out of the state. I asked my friend what he’d want to listen to while we sat and waited for the car to gain enough range to make it to our cabin on the edge of the forgotten realms. Ok, i didn’t say that, that was me trying to sound impressive and like i’m a good writer. You get it, or at least i hope you get it. My friend knew that i love podcasts, so he suggested we listen to a DND themed podcast to get in the mood, i asked which one, and he suggested Dungeons and Daddies. He said it was really funny, and he thought i’d like it. So, i found it in my podcatcher, went to season one episode one and started listening. We listened for the entire ride to the cabin, and then back again. I immediately loved the show. There’s something about podcasts, I'm not sure exactly what it is, but to me it feels like I really get to know the hosts/characters on the show. I think podcasts create a false sense of intimacy between the listener and the hosts. I think it’s because I mainly listen to podcasts alone and and it feels like the hosts/characters are talking to me. Or that I'm a fly on the wall of a really fun place, and I get to quietly observe these hilarious people. Is it because I listen in headphones or in my car? Maybe. Anyway, I know I get a false sense of intimacy, but sometimes I like to pretend it isn’t, or maybe I forget that it isn’t. I’m not sure, but these people don’t know me, and I don't know them, not really. So, after our weekend of DND, we drove back to Seattle, and by the time I was back at my house, I was ten episodes into Dungeons and Daddies. Over the last three weeks It had become my new audio obsession. I was hooked and I listened to it in the gym, on dog walks, while I cooked for my family, while I drove, every moment of silence I had was filled with the dads in the forgotten realm. I LOVE this show like I imagine many of you do because it’s funny, smart and dumb at the same time, it has great improvisation, an interesting story, fun characters who are out of place, and is honestly very touching and more emotionally impactful than I'd ever have imagined. As I got further down the season one rabbit hole, I began finding myself gravitating to Ron Stampler as my favorite daddy storyline. Beth’s performance is just fantastic, and even before episode 61,, where Ron has to give his dog away, Ron’s story and Beth’s performance was bringing me to tears.
I’m a dad, I have a son who is eight. In my life, there are only two Dads in my immediate family, see my wife’s father passed away when she was eight, there’s me and my dad. Well.. oh boy. My dad is kinda a nightmare. Not like Willy is a nightmare, my Dad is more like a crumpled and faded poster of a black and white monster movie, it’s sometimes more sad than scary. My dad was gone a lot when I was a kid. He was on business trips for pretty much eighty percent of my childhood. At one point he was American airlines third most flown person in the world, no joke. He’d fly to Germany on Monday, Japan on Wednesday, and then back to Oregon on friday. The good thing was we were able to fly back to my parents home country in the summer and at christmas, and the whole family usually flew for free because of his frequent flier miles. Those trips were GREAT times, I’d see my cool cousins, we’d eat awesome candy, visit castles, see the sleeping giants and all other manner of family fun. But, in normal life, I'd see him Friday night where he’d crash out, then when he woke up on Saturday he’d be grumpy, groggy and easy to anger. Those were the really good times I remember with my Dad when I was growing up, but I also remember him being angry, depressed, mean and sometimes he’d hurt me. I’m not saying that he hit me or my brother or mom on a regular occasion, that he was a drunk or anything, but there were times where he’d take things too far and I'd get hurt. For example, i must have been ten or eleven when my Dad, Brother and I went to a christian rock festival.We had to kill some time in the parking lot before the doors opened to rock n roll jesus. So my dad had the idea to teach us the spoons game. It’s like the game where you put your hands out palm up, and the other player places their hands on your hands palm down. You try to slap the other player’s hands while they try to evade your slaps. Got it? There’s gotta be a name for that game, slappies or something…
Well, for some reason we had some cutlery in the back of the car, maybe we had a picnic before the show, i don’t remember why, but we had shiny metal spoons for some reason. He taught us “the spoon game” by instructing me to make fists, and put them out in front of myself. He held spoons, one in each hand, and placed the bottom of the spoon on the top of my knuckles. My goal was to move my hands out of the way of the spoons as he tried to hit my knuckles with them. We played for what seemed like 15 minutes and he hit me every-time and with each successful hit he grew happier, and laughed harder. At first it stung, then it ached, then it was like this bubbling cauldron of pain and frustration was exploding inside me. When I could hardly hold my hands still because I was so angry, hurt and embarrassed, I burst into tears when my hands were red and beginning to bruise. I ran away from him, I just took off up the improvised road in the parking lot. He came after me, apologized to me and gave me a hug. We never played that game again. That’s just the kind of guy he was, and as I got older I realized some of the myriad of reasons he was that way. Firstly, he was an orphan, he and his brother were dropped off at an orphanage when he was three and his brother was five. I can only assume catholic orphanages in the 1950’s were not a great place to have some of your first memories. Although he’s never talked about it to me, I’m sure they’ve affected him. About a year later he and his brother were adopted by my grandparents, who in their 40’s decided to adopt two brothers aged four and six. I adored my grandparents, they were amazing people. They were blue-collar folks, my grandfather was a coal miner, with amazing stories and two sheds full of treasures which my grandmother called junk my brother and I got to paw through. Sure, he picked it up off the side of the road, but they were treasures, not junk in my or my brothers eyes. My grandfather walked from Wales to Scotland with his brother when he was nine years old to get work in the coal mines of Scotland. His sister, she was a boat captain and smuggler during the Spanish civil war who ran guns, food and medical supplies to the anti fascists. My Grandmother learned sign language so she could communicate and help THE deaf family in the village when the mother of that family fell gravely ill. But, it was the 1950’s and 1960’s so no matter how great their lives stories were, hitting kids was super normal, or at least that’s what my father and mother experienced. I’m sure he had a lot of trauma he never dealt with when he became a father in his late twenties. When we were kids, he was the sole breadwinner, his job was probably really taxing and took a lot out of him, he was away from his family a lot, and you know, traveling for work and living in hotels sucks. That’s not to excuse his behavior, I just try to, you know, put him in context of the stress he was under that I was too young to know about. It’s easier for me to believe that he’s not inherently bad, but shaped by his environment, it’s just easier for me that way. Judge away. It’s complicated. When I was twelve he lost his job, his brother committed suicide, and his funeral he found out he had 4 half sisters in Scotland who his brother had known about, and not told him about for almost a decade. It was a bad year with a silver lining. I watched him retreat into depression, longing, and joy of finding his new sisters. When i got out of college, he had his fourth back surgery. He had ruptured another disc in his lower back, and required another Discectomy . However, during the healing process he got an infection, one that raised his fever to a dangerous level that resulted in brain damage. From that point on, he wasn’t mean. He wasn’t cruel. He was confused, stubborn, repetitive, annoying and a shadow of his former intellectual self. So, I pity my father. Over this thanksgiving he decided to drive us back to my house from our extended families thanksgiving celebration. He drove into oncoming traffic because we had told him to take the next left, which he interpreted as take a left right now. No one was hurt. My son was in the car and was very scared.
And all I could think about was Ron Stampler. Listening to the end of season one gave me a lot of feelings. Listening to how Willy treated Ron wasn’t like my life with my father, not beat for beat, but a lot of the emotional beats seemed similar. Suddenly my father being absent for most of my early childhood was similar to the emotional abandonment Willy treated Ron. I saw how Willy was dismissive and cruel to Ron, and it brought back a bunch of memories I hadn’t contextualized. The spoons game for example, I had just blocked that off, not thought about it for decades, and when Willy was being so cruel to Ron, it just reminded me of that afternoon in a parking lot outside of a Jesus festival. So, my dad never made me give my dog away, but he did lose my dog once. Like, his story is that he took him to the groomer and the dog just bolted and we never saw Mocha again. Holy shit. I… I just remembered that. I want to break the cycle. I don’t want to pass on the bullshit my Dad did to me, I don’t want my the way I feel less than, incomplete, wrong and not god damn good enough onto my sweet boy. He doesn’t deserve any of that, I mean no kid does, but I’m NOT going to do that to him. I struggle with being a father a lot. I’m always second guessing myself, always worried that i’ll slip into a casual cruelty that will forever leave deep emotional scars in my sweet son the way my dad did to me. My son is an emotional kid, like I was. My son has the biggest heart you’ll ever see in a child his age. He loves everyone he meets, treats them as dear friends, and is always the first to lend a hand, a shoulder to cry on, a hug, or the shirt off his back. For christ's sake, this halloween he gave a bunch of his candy to his friends brother on the night of halloween. The younger brother was too tired to do the second round of trick or treating, it was past his bedtime. We were having a little party for halloween because we go crazy for halloween. Decorations, lights, family costume themes, full sized cady bars for trick or treaters, the whole nine yards. My son’s friends parents were attending the party, So I took my son and his friend on 2nd round of trick or treating. It was awesome, we were the last group of trick or treaters to be seen and our neighborhood was just dumping candy into the kids bags. DUMPING. When we got home, with our heavy haul the brother was upset that he didn’t go back out and get candy, so my kid just gave him all he wanted. If you’re not a parent of a young kid, let me be clear- candy is the hard drugs of childhood. Kids can be junkies for that sweet sweet candy.
That’s the kind of selfless eight year old I have, just handing over his own kiddy crack to someone he cares about without a second thought. Just today I realized he put a board game on his list to Santa, because it’s my wife’s favorite board game. He wants HER to have it, so he’s asking the all mighty and powerful Santa to bring something for him, so he can make his mom happy. What a kid. Listening to the Dungeons and Daddies made me think a lot about my dad, my baggage, what Dad I wanted to be. I have committed myself to not passing on generational trauma to my sweet, sweet boy. Listening to Beth May craft such a beautiful arch for Ron opened up a pandora's box of emotion including hope, anger, sadness and love. Ron was able to take the first steps of breaking the cycle of abuse that Willy passed on to him, and I’m ready to do the same. I hope to be as smart, brave, insightful and cool as Ron frickin’ Stampler. Thank you Daddies, thank you Anthony, Thank you Beth. I did not expect that this horny and violent podcast would be so therapeutic and eye opening to me.

I have been dealing with the skipping/jerking wiper issue now since I bought my truck. I am starting to see it cropping up on many other people’s trucks too and hoping we could discuss what could be causing it.
What I'm referring to is only when the wipers are on intermittent mode, when they reach the end of the cycle to rest at the bottom of the windshield, they seem to skip/jerk ahead to a further stop rather than resting at the original point. When the windshield is dry it doesn’t do it and when using the regular low/high or washer modes they work perfect as well. I have checked and my wipers are aligned to the marks on the windshield, and I have even gone through a couple sets of blades and cleaned the windshield.
I have had it to 2 different dealers who could not replicate the issue. So based on feedback from other owners, I went ahead and just replaced the wiper motor myself. It’s an easy job and I had Ford points which made the part cheap enough to be worth the gamble.
The wipers are doing EXACTLY the same thing as before. I’m completely stumped now and all I can think of is this is either an inherent design flaw or maybe it’s the wiper linkage that’s to blame? I have no idea and this issue drives me absolutely crazy. Would love some input from other owners on this!

Video: Return of the King (1980) - Éowyn vs Witchking

“For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her. When I first looked on her and perceived her unhappiness, it seemed to me that I saw a white flower standing straight and proud, shapely as a lily, and yet knew that it was hard, as if wrought by elf-wrights out of steel. Or was it, maybe, a frost that had turned its sap to ice, and so it stood, bitter-sweet, still fair to see, but stricken, soon to fall and die? - Aragorn about Éowyn”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
This is part of a series exploring the hidden motives and actions of the main players during Robert's Rebellion, named LBJ in reference to the influence of Lyndon B. Johnson and the Vietnam War on GRRM's views and writings on war. LBJ also indicates considerations over whether Lyanna + Bobby B = Jon Snow. Previous installments include:

The last part examined evidence that the rebels lied to stage a rebellion to knock the dragons of the Iron Throne, ending with the question: If Rhaegar was taken hostage and prevented from defending himself against false allegations of kidnapping Lyanna, then how did he manage to return to fight at the Trident?

The Return of the Prince: Rhaegar at the Trident

Crowning Lyanna queen of love and beauty indicated to some that Rhaegar intended to set Elia Martell aside and make a new queen. So parallel to Arianne Martell's Queenmaker plot, which led to her solitary confinement in a tower, like Lyanna was confined in the tower of joy, Rhaegar, like the Queenmaker plot conspirators, may be imprisoned at Ghaston Grey in the Sea of Dorne. The precedent of the Mad King's imprisonment at Duskendale and the fact that Dorne has an Alcatraz-style island prison called Ghaston Grey - relating to Beauty & the Beast's Gaston, who imprisoned his romantic interest and lied to incite violence against his rival - supports that Rhaegar or his friends were imprisoned there. It's possible that Rhaegar is still alive; his status as the father of Elia's children may preserve his life. Martin stated Rhaegar was cremated, as is Targaryen tradition, when asked what happened to Rhaegar's body; this statement does not negate the possibility that an imposter's body was cremated in Rhaegar's stead. Or maybe he's truly dead, but there's good reason to believe Rhaegar wasn't present at the Trident where he supposedly died.
As mentioned in previous parts, it is strange that Rhaegar would supposedly leave three Kingsguard with Lyanna, while leaving Elia and their children, the first two heads of the dragon and the prince that was promised, in the care of his deranged father with no Kingsguard besides Jaime, who was kept busy guarding the King. Jaime's failure to protect Rhaegar's family haunts him...

"And the children, them as well," said Prince Lewyn.
Prince Rhaegar burned with a cold light, now white, now red, now dark. "I left my wife and children in your hands."
"I never thought he'd hurt them." Jaime's sword was burning less brightly now. "I was with the king . . ."

- A Storm of Swords Jaime VI
...but it ultimately fell to Rhaegar to ensure the safety of his loved ones, and the situation he left Elia and their children in was obviously dangerous, given that Aerys had to threaten Prince Lewyn with the safety of Elia and her children to convince him to command the Dornish troops. Some have argued that Rhaegar was so confident in prophecy that he underestimated the threat posed to himself and his children, but if that were the case, why bother guarding Lyanna and their alleged child? This failure, in conjunction with other evidence suggesting the abduction story was a farce, indicates that this person who returned from the south wasn't actually Rhaegar.
Recall that if Rhaegar truly abducted and impregnated Lyanna, evidence suggests he stayed with her at the tower long after she conceived. Dany claims to have been conceived soon before Rhaella fled King's Landing, and Martin stated Jon was born roughly 8-9 months before her, placing Jon's birth within a month of Rhaegar's death. Once he returned from the south, it would not have taken more than a few months tops to marshal the loyalist forces to oppose the rebel army. This implies he was at the tower for over a year, while a war raged nearby; why did he suddenly take an interest in the rebellion? Why not enter the fray sooner, when his help really could have made a difference? Walder Frey is ridiculed for arriving late to the Trident, but maybe Rhaegar is the one who truly deserves the moniker "the late lord". And if Rhaegar stayed away due to his love for Lyanna and desire to be with her, why not wait a couple more months so he could be there when she gave birth?
An obvious reason for Rhaegar to appear when he did is that Robert was starting to be taken seriously as a threat, and the crown prince gave heart to the loyalist forces during a pivotal battle; it's too bad this heart wasn't big enough to prevent the war in the first place. Crossing the Trident was also a tactically unsound move by Rhaegar, and it would have been to his advantage to draw the rebel army further south. During the War of the Five Kings, Stannis's forces also attempt to cross a river, the Blackwater Rush, but are spooked off by Renly's ghost:

My hirelings betray me, my friends are scourged and shamed, and I lie here rotting, Tyrion thought. I thought I won the bloody battle. Is this what triumph tastes like? "Is it true that Stannis was put to rout by Renly's ghost?"
Bronn smiled thinly. "From the winch towers, all we saw was banners in the mud and men throwing down their spears to run, but there's hundreds in the pot shops and brothels who'll tell you how they saw Lord Renly kill this one or that one. Most of Stannis's host had been Renly's to start, and they went right back over at the sight of him in that shiny green armor."
After all his planning, after the sortie and the bridge of ships, after getting his face slashed in two, Tyrion had been eclipsed by a dead man. If indeed Renly is dead. Something else he would need to look into. "How did Stannis escape?"

- A Storm of Swords Tyrion I
Like Garlan fought in Renly's armor at the Battle of the Blackwater, an imposter fought as Rhaegar at the Trident. "Rhaegar" wore black armor crusted with rubies, like Mance uses a ruby in a black iron cuff to disguise himself as Rattleshirt via glamor magic. Dany has a vision of her own face behind Rhaegar's visor, and red light glimmers through the visor like Melisandre's glamor-producing rubies glimmer redly.

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. "The last dragon," Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. "The last, the last." Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

- A Game of Thrones Daenerys IX

Lady Melisandre was seated near the fire, her ruby glimmering against the pale skin of her throat.

- A Dance with Dragons Jon I

The big square-cut gem that adorned his iron cuff glimmered redly. "Do you like my ruby, Snow? A token o' love from Lady Red."

- A Dance with Dragons Jon IV
This is a world with glamor magic, skinchanging, and Faceless Men, and so it cannot be ruled out that an imposter fought as Rhaegar at the Trident. Dany seeing her own face behind Rhaegar's visor hints that someone besides Rhaegar wore his armor. Even Arya, who is said to resemble Lyanna, makes use of the face-changer Jaqen H'ghar at Harrenhal, where all this began... Jaqen H'ghar's name is near anagram for Rhaegar, incidentally. It suspends belief that soldiers would stop in the thick of battle to scoop up rubies, making it easier to accept that ruby-assisted magic was afoot.

When Ned had finally come on the scene, Rhaegar lay dead in the stream, while men of both armies scrabbled in the swirling waters for rubies knocked free of his armor.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard I
Perhaps the strongest piece of evidence against an imposter, however, is that Jaime remembers a conversation with Rhaegar before the battle, in which there are no obvious indications of deception.

And all for naught. They found only darkness, dust, and rats. And dragons, lurking down below. He remembered the sullen orange glow of the coals in the iron dragon's mouth. The brazier warmed a chamber at the bottom of a shaft where half a dozen tunnels met. On the floor he'd found a scuffed mosaic of the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen done in tiles of black and red. I know you, Kingslayer, the beast seemed to be saying. I have been here all the time, waiting for you to come to me. And it seemed to Jaime that he knew that voice, the iron tones that had once belonged to Rhaegar, Prince of Dragonstone.
The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. "Your Grace," Jaime had pleaded, "let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine."
Prince Rhaegar shook his head. "My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour."
Jaime's anger had risen up in his throat. "I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard."
"Then guard the king," Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. "When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey."
Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime's shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return."
Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen ever spoke to him. Outside the gates an army had assembled, whilst another descended on the Trident. So the Prince of Dragonstone mounted up and donned his tall black helm, and rode forth to his doom.

- A Feast for Crows Jaime I
Then again, one wouldn't expect a skilled Faceless Man to give up the ruse... Actually, no, I don't think a Faceless Man impersonated Rhaegar at the Trident.

Lyanna fought Robert at the Trident

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If I hadn't lost you already, I probably have now. But hear me out.
mediachomp.com/the-lord-of-the-rings-mansplaining/

“And she answered: 'All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.'
'What do you fear, lady?' he asked.
'A cage,' she said.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
This is the first ASOIAF theory I ever thought up. I suppose I was influenced by Éowyn of The Lord of the Rings in my thinking. Éowyn means 'horse lover', like Lyanna was half a horse herself, an advantageous quality for the warrior maid who fought on horseback and injured the Demon of the Trident.
Video: Ode to Liane
Many who prefer R+L=J also reason that Lyanna was the Knight of the Laughing Tree and was discovered by Rhaegar, to explain why he fell in love with her, despite the folly of returning the mystery knight's sense of honor with an ignoble crowning (I prefer the reasoning that Ned was that mystery knight). Some also assume Lyanna's heritage made her a desirable broodmare to Rhaegar, despite scant evidence that he was interested in warg blood, besides the likely assumption that dragon abilities are related to skinchanging. Lyanna fighting at the Trident is a parallel theory which uses those same elements of disguising oneself to fight for justice, with the aid of House Stark's innate skinchanging ability. Yet this outcome is more impactful, because the stakes were higher at the Trident. The very idea that Lyanna would choose to chill in a tower for over a year fucking a married prince with two very young children while her family and countrymen died in droves on her account is wildly inconsistent with her character.

“Robert will never keep to one bed,” Lyanna had told him at Winterfell, on the night long ago when their father had promised her hand to the young Lord of Storm’s End. “I hear he has gotten a child on some girl in the Vale.” Ned had held the babe in his arms; he could scarcely deny her, nor would he lie to his sister, but he had assured her that what Robert did before their betrothal was of no matter, that he was a good man and true who would love her with all his heart. Lyanna had only smiled. “Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man’s nature.”

- A Game of Thrones Eddard IX
Lyanna was a fighter, the type to seek justice out herself, as she did when her father's bannerman was beset by bullies at Harrenhal. Lyanna also healed the crannogman's wounds; likewise, she would do what she could to heal the wounds caused by her disappearance.

"None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf."
"A wolf on four legs, or two?"
"Two," said Meera. "The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four.

- A Storm of Swords Bran II

The rest of his father's words were drowned out by a sudden clatter of wood on wood. Eddard Stark dissolved, like mist in a morning sun. Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout. "You be quiet, stupid," the girl said, tossing her own branch aside. "It's just water. Do you want Old Nan to hear and run tell Father?" She knelt and pulled her brother from the pool, but before she got him out again, the two of them were gone.

- A Dance with Dragons Bran III
Arya is often compared to Lyanna, and Arya fought Robert's heir at the ruby ford where Rhaegar allegedly died. She practiced swordplay with Mycah using wooden sticks, like Lyanna and Benjen fought with sticks in Winterfell's godswood.

"It has a name, does it?" Her father sighed. "Ah, Arya. You have a wildness in you, child. 'The wolf blood,' my father used to call it. Lyanna had a touch of it, and my brother Brandon more than a touch. It brought them both to an early grave." Arya heard sadness in his voice; he did not often speak of his father, or of the brother and sister who had died before she was born. "Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her."

- A Game of Thrones Arya II

"Mycah and I are going to ride upstream and look for rubies at the ford."
"Rubies," Sansa said, lost. "What rubies?"
Arya gave her a look like she was so stupid. "Rhaegar's rubies. This is where King Robert killed him and won the crown."

_

Beyond, in a clearing overlooking the river, they came upon a boy and a girl playing at knights. Their swords were wooden sticks, broom handles from the look of them, and they were rushing across the grass, swinging at each other lustily. The boy was years older, a head taller, and much stronger, and he was pressing the attack. The girl, a scrawny thing in soiled leathers, was dodging and managing to get her stick in the way of most of the boy's blows, but not all. When she tried to lunge at him, he caught her stick with his own, swept it aside, and slid his wood down hard on her fingers. She cried out and lost her weapon.
Prince Joffrey laughed. The boy looked around, wide-eyed and startled, and dropped his stick in the grass. The girl glared at them, sucking on her knuckles to take the sting out, and Sansa was horrified. "Arya?" she called out incredulously.
"Go away," Arya shouted back at them, angry tears in her eyes. "What are you doing here? Leave us alone."
Joffrey glanced from Arya to Sansa and back again. "Your sister?" She nodded, blushing. Joffrey examined the boy, an ungainly lad with a coarse, freckled face and thick red hair. "And who are you, boy?" he asked in a commanding tone that took no notice of the fact that the other was a year his senior.
"Mycah," the boy muttered. He recognized the prince and averted his eyes. "M'lord."
"He's the butcher's boy," Sansa said.
"He's my friend," Arya said sharply. "You leave him alone."
"A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight, is it?" Joffrey swung down from his mount, sword in hand. "Pick up your sword, butcher's boy," he said, his eyes bright with amusement. "Let us see how good you are."
Mycah stood there, frozen with fear.
Joffrey walked toward him. "Go on, pick it up. Or do you only fight little girls?"
"She ast me to, m'lord," Mycah said. "She ast me to."
Sansa had only to glance at Arya and see the flush on her sister's face to know the boy was telling the truth, but Joffrey was in no mood to listen. The wine had made him wild. "Are you going to pick up your sword?"
Mycah shook his head. "It's only a stick, m'lord. It's not no sword, it's only a stick."
"And you're only a butcher's boy, and no knight." Joffrey lifted Lion's Tooth and laid its point on Mycah's cheek below the eye, as the butcher's boy stood trembling. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?" A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah's flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy's cheek.
"Stop it!" Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick.
Sansa was afraid. "Arya, you stay out of this."
"I won't hurt him … much," Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher's boy.
Arya went for him.

- A Game of Thrones Sansa I
The deadly consequences of Lyanna's disappearance, based on the rebel's lies, would enrage the she-wolf, driving her to confront Robert in battle if given the opportunity. Thus, "Rhaegar's" rash decision to cross the Trident makes sense in the context of an inexperienced warrior maid chomping at the bit to avenge her father and brother. It even mirrors Arya at the Wed Redding, when she recklessly runs towards the Crossing:

"Maybe we can save her . . ."
"Maybe you can. I'm not done living yet." He rode toward her, crowding her back toward the wayn. "Stay or go, she-wolf. Live or die. Your—"
Arya spun away from him and darted for the gate. The portcullis was coming down, but slowly. I have to run faster. The mud slowed her, though, and then the water. Run fast as a wolf. The drawbridge had begun to lift, the water running off it in a sheet, the mud falling in heavy clots. Faster. She heard loud splashing and looked back to see Stranger pounding after her, sending up gouts of water with every stride. She saw the longaxe too, still wet with blood and brains. And Arya ran. Not for her brother now, not even for her mother, but for herself. She ran faster than she had ever run before, her head down and her feet churning up the river, she ran from him as Mycah must have run.
His axe took her in the back of the head.

- A Storm of Swords Arya XI
Lyanna would jump at the chance to practice swordplay with her guards while in captivity, and in particular she'd be eager to learn from the legendary Sword of the Morning Ser Arthur Dayne, like Arya learned from Syrio Forel, the First Sword of Braavos. As Rhaegar's oldest and dearest friend, Arthur could teach Lyanna to pass as Rhaegar in conversation.
Consider that after hearing a song about a lady throwing herself from a tower in grief, like Ashara Dayne allegedly killed herself over her brother's death, Arya thinks the lady should have sought revenge:

It made her angry to see Dareon sitting there so brazen, making eyes at Lanna as his fingers danced across the harp strings.

_

He is a man of the Night's Watch, she thought, as he sang about some stupid lady throwing herself off some stupid tower because her stupid prince was dead. The lady should go kill the ones who killed her prince. And the singer should be on the Wall.

- A Feast for Crows Cat of the Canals
As argued in the section on Kingsguard loyalty, Dornish Arthur Dayne was complicit in the betrayal of his friend and king because his sister's life was leveraged against him, like (fake) Arya's predicament leads Jon to betray the Watch. Being threatened with Ashara's death if he deserted his post is like how Arya murders Dareon the singer for deserting the Night's Watch. And yet Dareon's desertion is understandable, given that he was sent to the Wall due to a false accusation of rape, after he was caught abed with a daughter of Lord Mathis Rowan. Similarly, Robert falsely accused Rhaegar of raping Lyanna, when he was in fact guilty of raping her... only once.

The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. “I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her.”
“You did,” Ned reminded him.
“Only once,” Robert said bitterly.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard I
It would add a haunting dimension to Robert's claim that he dreams of killing Rhaegar every night if Robert glimpsed Lyanna once the rubies were dislodged and "Rhaegar" was in the stream. Alternately, if he knew Rhaegar had been killed already, he'd understand that he was fighting an imposter, and so Robert's allusion to Rhaegar dying a thousand deaths stinks of the rage the Mountain must have felt as Beric Dondarrion kept returning from death. Robert's inexplicable rage after his successful defeat of Rhaegar indicates something was off about this event in his mind.

"In my dreams, I kill him every night," Robert admitted. "A thousand deaths will still be less than he deserves."

- A Game of Thrones Eddard I
Not only does Dany have a vision of her own face, a woman's face, behind Rhaegar's redly glimmering visor, but she also has a vision of "Rhaegar" saying an unidentified woman's name in the stream.

And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. "The last dragon," Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. "The last, the last." Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

- A Game of Thrones Daenerys IX

Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman's name. . . . mother of dragons, daughter of death . . .

- A Clash of Kings Daenerys IV
The world of ice and fire app claims that Rhaegar said Lyanna's name at his death, but that source is only semi-canon. Both Jon and Robb say their direwolves names as they die, and so it's possible that "Rhaegar's" final words are related to skinchanging.

Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger's hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. "Ghost," he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end.

- A Dance with Dragons Jon XIII

"Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself . . . if not for me, for Jeyne."
"Jeyne?" Robb grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. "Mother," he said, "Grey Wind . . ."
"Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here."

- A Storm of Swords Catelyn VII
Dany also notes warrior maids with rubies, paralleling this idea that Lyanna was a warrior maid in Rhaegar's ruby-crusted armor.

warrior maids from Bayasabhad, Shamyriana, and Kayakayanaya with iron rings in their nipples and rubies in their cheeks

- A Game of Thrones Daenerys VI
Lyanna using a glamor to disguise herself is problematic, however, in that it wouldn't produce the iron tones in Rhaegar's voice that Jaime remembers, and her female body would put her at a natural disadvantage in combat, so skinchanging into a male body is a necessary component. But if Rhaegar's body wasn't available, the male she skinchanged into would then need to be glamored to resemble Rhaegar closely enough as to not arouse suspicions when she arrived in King's Landing. It also may be the case that Rhaegar's body was available, along with his armor, after torture left him comatose. Note that the ritual which leaves Drogo in a comatose state, in which Dany also goes into labor, involves shadows which parallel the shadows Bran saw in his vision of the Trident; these shadows may belong to Ned and Robert, as will be argued in a later part:

No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn't, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn't they see? Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.

- A Game of Thrones Daenerys VIII
We may assume House Targaryen has access to arcane devices, which the Kingsguard would be in a position to know about, given Bloodraven's use of a moonstone glamor in The Mystery Knight (which also depicts a warrior maid in black armor):

Dunk whirled. Through the rain, all he could make out was a hooded shape and a single pale white eye. It was only when the man came forward that the shadowed face beneath the cowl took on the familiar features of Ser Maynard Plumm, the pale eye no more than the moonstone brooch that pinned his cloak at the shoulder.

_

Mad Danelle Lothston herself rode forth in strength from her haunted towers at Harrenhal, clad in black armor that fit her like an iron glove, her long red hair streaming.

- The Mystery Knight
It's also possible that Lyanna had some sort of Faceless Man training; their ability to disguise themselves appears to be related to skinchanging.

"Mummers change their faces with artifice," the kindly man was saying, "and sorcerers use glamors, weaving light and shadow and desire to make illusions that trick the eye. These arts you shall learn, but what we do here goes deeper. Wise men can see through artifice, and glamors dissolve before sharp eyes, but the face you are about to don will be as true and solid as that face you were born with.

- A Dance with Dragons The Ugly Little Girl
Lyanna's defense of the crannogman, who travelled to the Isle of Faces in a skin boat to visit the green men, may have something to do with her access to these abilities.

"The finest knight I ever saw was Ser Arthur Dayne, who fought with a blade called Dawn, forged from the heart of a fallen star. They called him the Sword of the Morning, and he would have killed me but for Howland Reed." Father had gotten sad then, and he would say no more. Bran wished he had asked him what he meant.

- A Clash of Kings Bran III

"He passed beneath the Twins by night so the Freys would not attack him, and when he reached the Trident he climbed from the river and put his boat on his head and began to walk. It took him many a day, but finally he reached the Gods Eye, threw his boat in the lake, and paddled out to the Isle of Faces."
"Did he meet the green men?"
"Yes," said Meera, "but that's another story, and not for me to tell. My prince asked for knights."

- A Storm of Swords Bran II
So after receiving adequate training and equipment, a disguised Lyanna may then be allowed to leave her tower to confront Robert at the Trident, contingent upon her return in service to whatever oaths held Arthur at the tower against his will. A battle wound may then be the cause of Lyanna's bed of blood... Consider Arthur Dayne's legendary sword Dawn, likely inspired by King Arthur's Excalibur. During the fight at the tower of joy, Ned describes the blade as alive with light, like King Arthur once drew Excalibur and the blade shined so bright it blinded his enemies.

"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

- A Game of Thrones Eddard X
Excalibur's sheath also had magical healing powers (keep in mind the dick and vagina symbolism of a sword and sheath). The legendary prowess of the Sword of the Morning thus may be related to his sword's hidden healing ability, and so after Lyanna sustained her chest wound at the Trident, she may be transported back south to be healed by Dawn. This seems unlikely, however, given how grievously wounded "Rhaegar" was.
If skinchanging was involved, then Lyanna never had to bodily leave the tower, and survived the Trident through spiritually returning to her original body, and her bed of blood was in fact caused by birthing Jon. If Lyanna had a consensual affair with her impressive guard Ser Arthur, it would dovetail nicely with another aspect of Arthurian legend, in which Sir Lancelot has an affair with Queen Guinevere at his castle Joyous Guard, despite his close friendship with King Arthur. The Sword of the Morning and the Demon of the Trident are not the only candidates for Jon's father; Oswell Whent is also a potential sire, in light of the parallel in which Cersei instructs Osney Kettleblack (who some believe is Oswell's son) to seduce Margaery to remove her as Queen; the rebels may have instructed Oswell to ensure Lyanna became pregnant, to dissuade Robert from marrying her so that he'd be free to wed Cersei to keep the Lannister's support, or to stage a death in childbirth so that Lyanna would be unable to spread the truth of her imprisonment. The idea that Lyanna became pregnant while confined also parallels Daena the Defiant's pregnancy despite her imprisonment in the Maidenvault.
On that note, unless Martin lied, it's indisputable that Lyanna gave birth to Jon... but when? Skinchanging removes the hinderance of a swollen belly and other bodily limitations, but if Lyanna did in fact fight while pregnant, she was perhaps not as far along as we're led to believe. If we accept that Jon was born roughly 8-9 moons before Dany, as Martin states, then the only way to adjust Jon's birth is to then assume Dany isn't who she thinks she is, that she wasn't born 9 moons after Rhaella's flight. Beyond typical lemongate reasons to doubt Dany's past, there's a discrepancy in which Viserys tells Dany of a midnight flight to Dragonstone, whereas Jaime recalls Rhaella and Viserys departing in the morning. This casts doubt on both Dany and Viserys's origins and allows us leeway to adjust Jon's birthdate. Lyanna giving birth before the Trident is possible, and though Robb is supposedly older than Jon, it's hard to pin down exactly when Robb was born; Jon could be older than Robb without it being noticed, as infants can differ greatly in size and development, as seen with Gilly and Mance's sons.
Speaking of Mance Rayder, I’m pretty confident he's Arthur Dayne.
So, given everything we're told about what kind of person Lyanna was, along with parallels between her and Arya involving swordplay and disguises, it's easy to see that rather than being the Knight of the Laughing Tree, Lyanna fought when it mattered most, to avenge her family at the Trident, against the man who truly dishonored her.
In the next part, we'll gaze into King Robert's magic mirror, Queen Cersei, to uncover strong evidence that he had Rhaegar tortured for the crime of crowning his betrothed. To preview where this series is headed, in its full audio/visual glory with greater detail, look here.

Looking to trade this beautiful shf warthog 3.25 discontinued from DLT. Such a rock solid knife centering is good lockup is solid action is far better or on par with CRK and lockbar tension is easier than most CRK knives. Carried a little bit and maybe cut open a package or two, edge is factory and still sharp, no scratches on blade. Only wear I can see is on the pivot collars from being carried. I have medium to large hands and can still get a comfortable 4 finger grip. TV-$350
Timestamp and pics-https://imgur.com/a/LKh6yQR
Trades plus cash on my end:
Full size spartan warthog, kraken, god and country
Zaan,
PDW sts

1.Materials
For blade I took X12MF steel. I ordered it already heat treated by professionals to 60 hrc. Forming steel bar took a long time (13 hours) to avoid any burning. I know, this steel is not common in US so here some info [Taken from thermist company page]: The steel has good cutting edge stability and toughness. Has a great resistance to corrosion, ideal for hunting and outdoor knives. Chemical composition: C 1.45-1.65%; Cr 11-12.5%; Mo 0.4-0.6%; V 0.15-0.3%; Si 0.15-0.35%; Mn 0.15-0.4%.
For handle I took burl maple hybrid with epoxy. Bolster and rear Bolster casted from white bronze. Sheath made from vegetable tanned leather 3 mm / 0,11 inch thick. Sewed with waxed thread and embossed by hand.
2.Sizes Blade : 134 X 26 X 4.7 mm / 5.27 X 1.02 X 0.15 inch
Tang : 110 X 10 X 4.7 mm / 4,33071 X 0,393701 X 0,15748 inch
Handle : 130 X 30 X 26 mm / 5,11 X 1,18 X 1,02 inch

Overall info Blade polished up 20000 grid pastes and has mirror edge with razor cutting capabilities. Tip is thick and very hard to break.

4.Price & shipment Price is 170 USD via PayPal. Shipment from Ukraine.
5.Photo gallery
Photo with my reddit name : https://imgur.com/a/CkczjuT
Knife showcase : https://imgur.com/gallery/L6RIWBt
Knife video : https://imgur.com/gallery/jm2mQDz
Creation process photos : https://imgur.com/gallery/50jLmH0

--- Table of Contents ---
Spring 4985, 18 Buromoth
The road to Hamerfoss was north out of Smilnda. By horse, the journey took only two days, one and a half if ridden hard. By foot, it generally took four days, but escorting a heavily loaded wagon would take the squires six.
On the first day out, Thom and Rerves released their excited energy through constant chatter. Talking about how happy they were to finally be on their way to real training. Occasionally Shon would join in.
On the second day, they spoke about how much easier it would be to concentrate without the girls around. Shon didn’t join much in this conversation.
On the third day, they confessed to missing Daisy and Ania. Suspecting they missed the conversation, Shon attempted to chime in more often.
The fourth and fifth days were plagued with spring rain, and the boys did little more than complain, particularly about their new leather armor chafing when wet. Shon couldn't help but grumble in affirmation. He'd hated the armor from the first day.
The sixth, and final, day saw a stop to the rain. The boys spent their walk beside the wagon carefully dodging puddles after Thom submerged his entire boot in one deeper than expected. There was very little talking between them now, all three too nervous and excited for their imminent arrival.
The road outside the city had been the only part with flat fields and open skies on either side. For the rest, they'd traveled through forest, with only the occasional clearing maintained explicitly for travelers to camp. Tall evergreens growing close together blocked the view of anything beyond the road at their feet, giving Shon and the others very little to look at as they marched.
Two sturdy horses pulled the wagon of supplies for the fortress. Barrels of food and crates of scrap metal as well as sacks of letters and the Squire's personal bags, weighed down the laden wagon, the wheels carving deep channels in the muddy road.
Shon had already sketched the wagon, the horses, the Paladin driving them, and his fellow Squires many times over. He even managed a few landscape drawings, for lack of better subjects. He had no idea how the other two managed to calm their excitement before sleep. Perhaps that was why they talked so much every night.
Walking ahead of him, Rerves readjusted the hilt of his short sword while Shon pulled at the neck of his armor for what seemed like the hundredth time each. They hadn’t been trained in the proper use of either, and Shon wondered again why the Paladins had insisted the Squires wear them. They'd been ordered to guard the wagon, but who would be stupid enough to waylay a Temple cart so close to a fortress full of knights? Of course, monsters such as the draken and drakwalves were always a threat, but what were three untrained boys supposed to do against something like that?
Shon sighed, letting his hand fall limply from the gorget. It was no use. No matter how many times he tried to shift it, it would just rub somewhere else until he grew uncomfortable enough to try again. He attempted to distract himself, letting his eyes unfocus and picturing himself going through his kata as he walked in a daze. Master Veon-Zih always said that mental practice was just as important as physical training, though in this case, Shon was just glad it gave him something to focus on besides his nerves and discomfort.
He was about to start the second kata when he nearly ran into Rerves. The taller boy had stopped walking, and Shon arched an eyebrow at him before realizing that the wagon had also stopped. There was no way they were there already…
Stepping to the side, Shon saw what had stalled them. A man in what looked like poorly kept half-plate stood in the middle of the path. A large war ax strapped to his back.
The stranger scratched at his short beard, scraggly and peppered like his hair, “Ho traveler, where you headed?” He called.
The three boys looked to the Paladin driving the wagon, watching as his eyes narrowed, “We are bound for Hamerfoss, good ser…”
“Ah, so the toll you’ll be payin' will be comin' out of them coffers then,” the stranger called, his face splitting into a grin as the boys looked back his way.
“There is no toll on this road, good ser.” their Paladin stated. As if their heads had been placed on a swivel, the Squires returned their gazes to him, but only for a moment as the stranger answered again.
“There is now.” the bandit lifted his hand, the Paladin stood, and the boys looked between the two with wide eyes, not sure what they were supposed to do. The bandit whistled, a sharp sound that sent birds flying from the trees as four hooded figures exited from the gloom to surround the wagon and its three terrified Squires.
The Paladin drew his longsword, ordering the boys, “Protect the wagon!” They turned frightened eyes on each other for only a moment before looking back at the bandits. Each now holding swords of their own.
The knight lept from the wagon and charged the leader, who'd reached for his ax. Thom and Rerves fumbled for their short swords, and Shon dropped into a low stance, his fists held at the ready and heart beating furiously.
“Shon, sword!” Rerves yelled, his voice somehow steady as the four hooded bandits stalked closer.
Shon actually felt himself blush despite the situation and pulled his sword from its scabbard like the rest. He felt off-balance, the weight of the weapon throwing off his well-rehearsed stance. He didn’t have time to adjust before the bandits charged. Two went for Rerves, leaving one each for Shon and Thom.
Shon tried to relax, to stay alert and ready to move, as he'd been taught. But his palm was sweating and he clinched the hilt tighter than intended. Focused on the bandit heading his way, the chaos around him blurred, becoming indistinct, like a drawing left in the rain. Shon held his ground and lifted the sword to one of the ready positions he'd seen the Paladins practice. His attacker was quite a bit taller than he was, and Shon lifted the sword above his head as the first swing came down hard from above.
The hilt shook in Shon's hand, and his attacker didn't hesitate to swing again, this time sweeping around and aiming for Shon's left leg. Clenching his teeth, Shon pivoted the sword down to block again but misjudged the length of his blade. The bandit's long sword passed below the point of Shon's block to strike just above the knee. He felt the impact, but could only imagine the damage, refusing to look and thanking Hengist the limb hadn't buckled. As the shock of the hit ran its course, the attacker flicked his sword up from inside Shon's failed guard, knocking the weapon from his hand.
The short sword flew free, but Shon had already begun his counter, aiming with his free right hand at his attacker’s extended wrist. The hit would have knocked the attacker's arm aside at the least, but with his now empty left hand, Shon struck the same arm from the outside at the elbow. In an instinctual effort to save the joint, the bandit twisted awkwardly, but predictably, bringing his head lower and closer.
Cartilage crunched beneath his knuckles and Shon's attacker reeled back, gripping his nose under his hood and cursing loudly enough for others to hear over the clang of metal and chaos.
One of Rerves' attackers disengaged from his two-on-one fight to aid his friend, who was now backing away from Shon as fast as he could. Shon hesitated a moment then dashed to his fallen sword.
Again Shon felt unbalanced with the weapon in hand. He tried to shift his weight to offset the difference but barely had enough time to bring the sword to bear as the second attacker swung his two-handed greatsword at Shon's right side.
Taking his own weapon in both hands, Shon managed to absorb some of the force of the blow, but he still wasn't strong enough to fully block the strike. His arms buckled, giving way for his opponent's longsword to hit his upper arm. This second hit hadn't fully registered in Shon's mind when the new attacker shoved his shoulder into Shon's chest, trying to push him over.
It worked. Shon fell to the ground with a splash and smack as he habitually swung his hands down to slap the ground, dropping his sword again, but breaking the energy of the fall. Just as Master Veon-Zih had taught him. Perhaps expecting Shon to be winded, the attacker didn't follow through with another attack on the prone boy; instead, turning to look at the companion Shon had punched.
Shon didn't hesitate. Still on his back, Shon twisted his hips, scissoring his legs to either side of the bandit's leg and kicking him behind the knee and inside the shin. The bigger man went down, and Shon swung his legs up, rolling onto his shoulder blades before jumping directly to a standing position. Or at least trying to. The leather armor was heavy and awkward, and he wobbled when he landed on his feet. As he attempted to regain his balance, another whistle rang out from the front of the wagon.
As one, the attackers disengaged from their respective defending Squires. The one Shon had knocked down rolled away and was helped up by his companion sporting a bloody nose. The Squires didn't pursue. Their hands shook with adrenaline, and their eyes tried to dart every way at once.
"Stand down, Squires," it was the Paladin. The knight had sheathed his sword and was moving back towards the wagon, but the boys could barely manage a glance at each other before focusing back on their attackers. Still very much on edge. It wasn't until the attackers in question also sheathed their weapons that the Squires began to slowly straighten, looking between the Paladin, the lead bandit, their attackers, and each other in quick succession.
"You all did very well," the knight said, reaching out to ensure the horses were still calm. They'd hardly moved, causing Shon to determine they must be warhorses, perhaps one was the knight's own partner.
"Not bad, not bad." the lead bandit started forward, slinging his ax back over his shoulder as he moved. Rather than being reassured by the gesture, the Squires dropped back into their fighting stance.
The Paladin snapped, "It was a test, boys. Relax and sheath your swords before you hurt yourselves." The lead 'bandit' laughed out loud at that. It was a booming sound like a bark straight from his belly as he threw his head back and planted his fists firmly on his hips.
"First time seeing battle, even a mock one, and you can't help but be on edge. It's the same every year," he said, the strange speech pattern he'd used before completely gone. He gestured, and his four underlings removed their hoods. The one with the bloody nose still had it pinched, his head tilted forward.
Mock battle… Shon's leg and arm throbbed painfully with every heartbeat, and his knuckles stung as he clenched and unclenched his fists to try and relax. But now that it was over, he realized that both hits had been with the flat of the blade.
The ringleader continued, "These fine Squires are going to be the newest Paladins of Hengist. After their vigil next month." the four attackers saluted and the younger Squires exchanged glances again before finally putting their swords away. "And I," the man slapped his chest, "am your new Weaponmaster. Master Daunas Mung. It will be my job to train you in combat at Hamerfoss."
Rerves was the first to recover. He smiled, but his voice held a hint of sarcasm, "I wish I could say it's nice to meet you, Master Daunas," he tried to laugh, "perhaps once my heart has stopped trying to beat its way out of my chest." That caused the Weaponmaster to bark his own laugh again. Thom smiled nervously at Shon, who was taking slow, measured breaths to calm his own heart.
The Paladin took a moment to examine their various bumps and bruises but only used his magic to heal the senor squire's broken nose. The much larger party continued together towards Hamerfoss, Master Daunas riding with the Paladin in the wagon while the older Squires chatted amongst each other. Thom and Rerves didn’t join in the chatter, both looking as anxious as Shon felt. He could hear the two uninjured seniors making fun of the two who had fought him and wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or proud. He'd hardly used his sword, -dropped it twice!- and the sword was the sacred weapon of Hengist. The symbol of the god himself.
Eventually, -finally- they left the woods and immediately saw the fortress situated in the middle of a vast field. Hamerfoss was one of the oldest structures still being utilized in Clearhelm. As such, it wasn't nearly as visually impressive as some of the newer Temples in the cities. Even so, as they approached the south gate, the three new Squires gaped at its great stone walls in awe.
The outer curtain wall was twenty stones high, -at least four of the boys stacked one on top of the other- with two layers of iron portcullises, their bars as thick as Shon's forearm. Walking through the first, the boys looked up and saw the faces of Paladins looking down at them through holes in the ceiling, built for dumping hot tar or oil on invaders trapped between the portcullises. They moved a little faster through the second.
Beyond the wall was one of two open courtyards, with training dummies, archery targets, and sparring rings separated by neat stone walkways. The smell of hay and horses wafted over the whole place from the stable against the south wall to their right, and the ringing "tink, tink" of a hammer on metal filled the cool air from the smithy built into the side of the fortress proper.
"Welcome to Hamerfoss!" Master Daunas gestured widely to all before them, and Shon fixed his eyes on the fortress itself, rising up like an indomitable mountain before him. It was about fifteen feet taller than the curtain wall, with one great tower in the center jutting up another fifteen feet above that. The roof was lined with battlements where archers could rain death on an invading army.
Turning his head, Shon could see three of the four bastions at the corners of the curtain wall and the armored figures that must be more Paladins standing guard. His left hand twitched as he longed to unpack his journal and draw every detail. The bare, dead-looking vines covering the face of the west wall, he was sure they would bloom in a few short weeks and cover the stone in green; the squat smithy coming out of his workshop to wipe the sweat from his brow in the cool air of early spring; and the slack-jawed expressions of awe on his companions' faces as they tilted their heads waaay back to try and see the top of the fortress's tower. But there would be plenty of time for that. After all, this would be his home for the next four years.
"Well. Don't just stand there gawkin'! Unload the wagon." Shon jumped in surprise and glimpsed Thom and Rerves doing the same. Master Daunas must have startled them out of their awe as well.
Shon was grateful as Rerves cleared his throat and took charge. His habit of speaking first and taking control had annoyed the girls back in Smilnda, but as Thom was used to it and Shon didn’t like giving orders, it worked out well for the boys. "Thom, you get the horses settled. Shon, you start handing me things out of the wagon." Without a word of argument, Thom nodded and went to the horses, murmuring gently as he began removing their harness and Shon climbed into the bed of the wagon to lift one crate at a time down to Rerves.
Master Daunas snorted, turning away from the new boys to give orders Shon couldn't hear to the older Squires. The young men saluted in unison, one moving to help Thom and two coming back to the wagon to help Shon and Rerves. The last jogged to the blacksmith, who waved him towards the smithy. He returned a moment later, carrying a small box and marching towards the smith, who was speaking quietly with Master Daunas.
"Shon, come on!" Rerves whispered, gesturing with both hands impatiently. Shon shook his head to clear it, handing Rerves another crate. He'd been paying a little too much attention to Daunas and the smith.
"Sorry," Shon murmured, but if Rerves heard him, he just took the box and set it with the others. It didn't take long for the four Squires to finish with the wagon. Shon hopped down with his own pack over his shoulder just as Thom came out of the stable with the senior Squire to meet them.
"Horses taken care of?" Rerves asked, and Shon blinked at him, thinking, Of course, they were; Thom wouldn't have come out otherwise…
"Yep, all settled and ready to go," Thom answered with a smile. Shon would've simply nodded. He was never one to waste words on things that didn't need to be said, and now more than ever, he found himself so focused on taking in everything around him that he could hardly think of words to say.
It seemed Master Daunas had been waiting for something to be said out loud, though, because he turned towards them at the sound, "Alright lads, this here is Nangran Flintchest. He's our resident Smith, and he'll be making all your equipment." The man was only as tall as Thom, but his shoulders and chest were broader even than Master Daunas, with hands the size of shovels and a beard that hung to the middle of his chest.
"Line up, smallest... largest…" As he spoke, Nangran pointed first to the right, then to the left of Shon, and didn't bother to see if they obeyed before turning away from them to open the box the older Squire had brought. Taking out a long measuring tape and a ratty-looking notebook, the smith tossed the young man the notebook without explanation and headed toward Thom with the measuring tape. Thom quickly positioned himself to the right of Shon with Rerves on Shon’s left.
Nangran motioned with his hand, grumbling only "Arms…" Without need for further explanation, Thom stepped forward and lifted his arms like a 't', visibly swallowing down his nerves. Shon watched closely as the smith took the smaller boy's measurements. Around his chest, his bicep, lower arm, from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, neck to waist, and much more besides. Thom stood stiff, following the old man's clipped instructions with hesitant jerky movements. Shon thought it should be awkward to work around their armor, but Nangran didn't seem to notice.
"Sword?" Nangran asked, and Thom made a confused sound. But the smith waved a massive hand in his face, "Not you, boy. Daunas, what sword?"
Master Daunas had his arms crossed over his chest and was tilting his head back and forth from one side to the other, absently scratching his beard before he finally said. "Two hands." he then pointed at Shon, saying, "Bastard." Shon wrinkled his nose, but the offense was short-lived when Daunas pointed at Rerves, saying, "One hand."
Nangran sniffed, "One each..." he stepped over to Shon and motioned for him to raise his arms. Shon stiffened but obliged, keeping his eyes fixed forward as the old man ran his measuring tape all across Shon's body, fighting not to flinch each time the Smith brushed against him.
"Yep," Daunas answered. They were talking as if the boys weren't even there, and the older Squires just watched. Didn’t they have anything better to do? "And that one," Daunas continued, nodding towards Shon, "is a lefty." Nangran snorted without comment and continued measuring, while the Squire with the notebook scribbled a little something extra besides the numbers Nangran mumbled to him.
But then the smith ran his hand down Shon’s forearm, touching the skin of his wrist, and pulled away in surprise. Shon jerked his hand back but quickly returned it with a nervous swallow. The smith stared at him, his brow furrowed, "You're cold as ice boy. Nervous?"
Shon shook his head, but the smith continued to stare, so he added, "No sir. I'm always cold."
The smith hummed and went back to measuring around Shon's wrist and back up his arm, "They say cold hands make a warm heart," Nangran muttered.
Beside Shon, Rerves and Thom snickered. "Whoever says that has never met Shon," said Thom, who had relaxed noticeably once the smith had finished with him. Face forward, Shon glared sideways at him, but there was no real anger in it, and Thom snickered again.
Master Daunas let out another bark of a laugh, "I see you get along well! That's good; you'll want friends in training." Shon tried to relax, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out through pursed lips. He did get along with his fellow Squires. He felt his lips tilt up in an almost imperceptible smile. He would even go so far as to call them friends. Even if they did poke fun at each other. Or maybe it was because they did.
Smith Nangran moved on to Rerves, and Shon looked from the larger boy to the smaller and back again before focusing his gaze on Master Daunas. It seemed neither of them was going to ask the adults to clarify what they meant by the sword assignments, so he would have to. Feeling more at ease, he asked, "I thought we were going to be trained in all weapons…"
Daunas must've seen where Shon was going because he spoke at the pause provided, "Oh, you will, boy. But I was watching you fight back on the road. You didn't think we staged that little raid just for fun, did you?" Shon didn't answer. He had thought it was just for fun. Perhaps some kind of hazing ritual. When Shon didn't say anything, Daunas continued, "You boys haven't been trained, so your movements were on instinct, giving me an idea for what fighting style you may lean more towards." he pointed at Shon, who crossed his eyes to focus on the finger, "You, boy, are going to be a problem. You're the one old man V's been training."
Who? Shon refocused on the Weapon Master's face, arching an eyebrow in confusion. When Master Daunas didn’t respond to the look, Shon guessed, "Master Veon-Zih?"
Daunas continued, "He's got you jumping around with no mind to the armor you'll be wearing or the weapon in your hand. You'll have to work twice as hard to adjust some of those habits." Shon was taken aback, shocked, and a little afraid… He didn't want to lose what he'd already learned… but Master Daunas continued, "But with a hand-and-a-half sword, you'll be able to switch between one and two-handed maneuvers." he smiled softly, and Shon realized his emotions must have been showing on his face more than usual because the Weapon Master seemed to be comforting him. "You mark my words; you'll favor the bastard sword for sure."
Nangran finished with Rerves and began rolling up his measuring tape. He turned his back on the boys but spoke to them as he took his notebook back from the senior Squire, “Take that leather off and put it in the wagon. I’ll have better ready for you by first watch week.” The Squires exchanged looks, then began following the command, stripping off the leather armor and thick gambeson and trying in vain to straighten the sweaty wrinkled uniforms underneath.
“You four,” Daunas addressed the seniors, who moved from parade rest to attention in perfect unison, “show these three around and give them the rundown of how things work around here. You three,” he looked over his shoulder at Shon and the others, scratching his neck again, “this is your last day of freedom, enjoy it while you can.” all seven Squires saluted and Daunas sighed, giving a lazy salute in response before walking off, muttering to himself, “I need to shave…”
The older Squires approached the younger, two of them snickering after Daunas was far enough away not to hear. Shon arched an eyebrow at them and, seeing the expression, the tallest explained, “He’s normally clean-shaven. He let his beard grow out all week for the wagon raid.”
“You’ll be doing one too, in your last year.” another of the four added.
“Sorry about your arm,” the one who had fought Thom said, holding out his hand to the younger boy, “You really did do well, considering.” Thom shook the young man’s hand with a grateful smile at the compliment.
The two who had fought Shon exchanged looks with each other then looked at him, their expressions expectant. Shon arched his other eyebrow instead. Did they really expect him to apologize? They had attacked him. And he was four years younger than they were.
“So…” the one Shon had bloodied started, drawing the word out.
“Who taught you how to fight?” the second interjected.
“Master Veon-Zih.”
When Shon didn’t elaborate further, the two exchanged silent shrugs. Shon looked away from them, frustrated. They could communicate with each other fine in gestures and expressions, yet, he was expected to explain details they didn't need? Would they even know what a Monk was? Did it even matter? He was here to train as a Paladin now.
The only one who hadn’t spoken yet cleared his throat, and the other three turned his way immediately. Apparently, he was the unofficial leader of this group, just like Rerves was the unofficial leader of theirs. “We'll show you the barracks first. You should shower and change your uniforms before we walk around the rest of the fortress.”
“You have showers here too?” Rerves blurted in amazement, then snapped his mouth shut, blushing.
The two who were prone to laughing did so again, “Why wouldn’t we?”
“I bet we need it more than most of the official Temples.” the two laughed again.
Thom shuffled his feet nervously but said, “They told us things would be a lot rougher here.”
“They were probably just trying to scare you,”
“They were talking about the work,” the leader said sharply, then turned towards the fortress.
Shon and the others quickly grabbed their bags and rushed to follow. The leader continued to talk as they fell into step behind him, “Your day will start just before sunrise, at fifth bell. You will get dressed, make your bed as quickly as possible, then gather with the others in the courtyard,” he gestured with one hand at a wide-open spot on the training grounds, “From there we run. Around the fortress ten times in formation. After that are drills and then breakfast. After breakfast, we have prayer, followed by lectures, then heavy weapons and armor training, then lunch.” they made their way into the fortress and up a long flight of stairs to the third floor, “After lunch, there's more classwork, then light weapons and combat training. You’re then given an hour of free time to shower and rest before dinner. After dinner, there is mandated study or prayer time, then another hour of free time before lights out at ninth bell. Once every season, we take four weeks to stand watch, one week for each shift.”
He took them down a long hall lined with doors on one side. Shon tried to listen and count the doors at the same time and was glad he did when the leader stopped beside the ninth, “These three rooms are yours. Go ahead and get a new uniform and meet us back out here.”
One of the nicer boys stepped forward to open the first door, “This one is Rerves, followed by Shon and Thom.” Shon entered to find a small room barely six feet square. Directly across from the door was a bed that took up the entire wall and a small high-set window that looked out over the training field. Beside it was a small desk with a single wooden chair. Under the bed, Shon found a long shallow box full of neatly folded uniforms. His name was embroidered in the lining of each piece, and on top was a pinned note with instructions detailing the laundry procedure. Shon only skimmed it, it was the same as the fortress in Smilnda, and most likely the same the Provence over, perhaps even the kingdom.
He left his pack by the desk and returned to the hall with one of his uniforms to find it empty. Glancing down either side of the hall, he shrugged at Thom’s questioning look when he was joined by his two fellows. They waited at least ten minutes before the seniors returned, without their armor and holding their own spare uniforms. They looked nearly as disheveled as the juniors. The leader gestured for them to follow again and said, “Once you get your armor, you will keep it in your room. It's your responsibility to keep it oiled or polished as appropriate.” well, they would be good at that at least… Had they been left to wait while the seniors cared for their armor? Shon didn’t bother to ask, following the four deeper into the fortress.
They were taken to the showers, a single large room with spigots set into the walls and drains in the floor. The seniors started to strip down, placing their dirty uniforms in a basket by the door and setting their clean sets on the benches set along the same wall. Thom, Rerves, and Shon all exchanged looks before following their lead.
There were only ten showerheads, and Rerves finally asked, “How many Squires are there here?”
The seniors each moved to their own showerhead, and the room was quickly filled with hot steam, “Twentyone, including us, but we will be gone in a month, so that will leave seventeen.” one of them answered, stepping under the hot water with a grateful sigh, rinsing the sweat and dirt from the road off his surprisingly well-muscled body. Shon counted the shower spigots again as he moved towards his own. Almost twenty Squires and only ten showers at a time… it sounded like a nightmare. But at least they had hot running water.
Though he had above-average cold tolerance and preferred the winter chill far more than the summer sweat, Shon always enjoyed a truly hot shower. Master Veon-Zih liked to argue that baths were far superior, but in Shon's experience, baths always cooled off too quickly, which was why most ordinary citizens of Clearhelm used the public steam baths.
After they were washed and dressed, the real tour began. They were shown the hall with the officer's rooms, the infirmary, the mess hall, the library, and the classroom. “There’s only one?” Thom asked, peeking into the room with a blackboard across the far wall and long tables situated in front.
“Tomorrow is the last real day before the watch weeks start. You'll spend those four weeks catching up on foundational stuff. Kingdom-wide law, and your assigned sword dills, that sort of thing. After that, the lessons are given in a four-year rotation, so your first classes after the watch weeks will be new to both you and everyone else." the leader explained.
The nicest one elaborated, “You’ll have the same schedule we did, so comparative law, followed by history, then theology, then comparative cultural studies.” Shon wasn’t sure what he looked forward to least on that list. Though all would be better than fighting for a shower…
"There's also etiquette, monster studies, combat tactics and command, and war history and theory." his friend added, and Shon was relieved that at least most of those seemed more interesting.
Next, they were shown some of the less-used rooms. The war room, full of charts and maps and only used for large-scale tactics training, and an indoor sparring room that looked like it was never used.
“This is supposed to be for heavy weather.” one of the laughers said with a snicker.
“But Master Daunus says your enemies won’t let you move a fight inside, so why practice there,” added the other. Shon happened to agree, but also wasn’t looking forward to training in the rain after having walked in it for two days.
Lastly, they were shown the chapel, not as fine as the one in Smilnda but with the same sweet incense and warm comfort. The atmosphere seeped into Shon’s bones as they approached the head altar for a brief prayer and a blessing from the resident Cleric. He was a young man with pale brown hair and green eyes. He smiled warmly down at the new boys, saying, “Welcome to Hamerfoss, Squires of Hengist.” which in turn made each of them glow with enough pride to banish the nerves of their first day and daunting future.
***
--- Part 2/2 ---
--- Table of Contents ---
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When the old man got within range, John kicked at him with his good leg, but the old timer was quick, much quicker than he looked. He ducked to his right, side stepping John's lashing foot, then darted in and touched the tip of the prod to John's leg. Fire--that's what it felt like. White hot fire. A jolt went through John's body that made his eyeballs hurt. And just like that, the old man slipped in again and jabbed him in the stomach. Then, as John rolled onto his belly, the tip touched his back.
John curled into a ball and hugged his knees to his chest.
"Get through that door, boy," the old man said. "Move it, now!" Like herding an ornery animal.
And like an animal, John Burke responded, lifting himself onto all fours and crawling toward the exit. Halfway across the floor, the old man jammed the cattle prod against John's ass. He cried out and scampered through the door.
As soon they were out of the room, the old man clicked his cheek a couple of times like he was calling a dog. "Get on your feet, like a good boy." John struggled to his feet as the door closed behind him and the bolts slammed into place. He stood at one end of a narrow passage, dark, except for a single bulb hanging from the ceiling at the far end. Again, John felt the prod touch his back.
"Get!" the old man said.
John limped toward the light.
The passage emptied into a windowless room, low ceilinged and big. The old man forced him into a chute--a cattle chute. Horizontal steel poles on each side formed a walkway barely wide enough for a man's shoulders. The poles were stacked four high, the top pole about five feet off the ground. Every six or eight feet stood a vertical brace.
The old man closed and locked a sliding wooden door behind them, then bent and slipped between two of the horizontal poles. Outside the chute, he prodded John to keep him moving. As John walked toward the end, the old man thumped him two or three times with the prod but didn't shock him.
Suddenly, an overpowering stench hit John and his feet stopped moving. He looked to the right, toward the source of the smell, and saw a stainless steel table, on top of which lay a man's lifeless body. He was on his belly with his head turned and John could see the face of the man who'd been goaded out of the room just before him. The white-haired old lady stood beside the table gripping an electric carving knife in one latexed hand, while with her other gloved hand she pressed the man's leg firmly against the table. Bile gurgled up into John's throat as the old lady thumbed the switch on the carving knife and sliced a hunk of meat from the back of the dead man's thigh.
John spewed vomit and dropped to his knees. "Get up, boy," he heard from behind him as the prod juiced his lower back. John screamed in pain as he staggered to his feet. "Move it," the old man said. With legs like jelly, John stumbled forward.
The cut he'd worked into the leather belt was just to the right of the steel loop through which the handcuffs ran. Only an eighth of an inch of leather remained. Using his body, John shielded his hands from the old man's view while he tugged on the handcuffs and hobbled along.
The sides of the chute closed in on him as he reached the end. Near panic, John tried to turn around, but before he could the old man slid a gate closed behind him that penned him in.
Trapped.
From the corner of his eye, John watched the old man. Saw him step towards a workbench against the wall, fifteen feet away, and toss the cattle prod onto it. He pulled a ballpeen hammer down from a wall above the bench. It had a big stainless steel head with a foot long wooden handle. The old man turned and walked toward John with a casual, bored look on his face, just another day in the slaughterhouse.
Bent as far forward as he could, John thrust his hips back and jerked his cuffed hands forward, but the leather belt held. Behind him he heard the old man's shoes scrape the cement floor. Desperate, John twisted his hands to the right. The leather still held. Just an eighth of an inch between a chance for escape and a hammer to the back of the head.
A shoe scuff on the floor. Afraid to look, John stared at his hands. He groaned as he thrust his hips to the right and jerked his hands to the left. The leather tore and the belt pulled free from his waist.
"Where you think you're going?" the old man said.
John ducked and heard the top pole ring as the ballpeen hammer glanced off of it. With the belt still dangling from his handcuffs, John doubled over and stepped between the two middle poles on his left side. To his right the old man cursed him and swung the hammer between the bars. The hammer thumped into John's right hip but he didn't stop. Once through the bars he ran--hobbled on his painful ankle--toward the wall, trying to put as much distance between him and the old man as possible.
"Momma, momma, he got loose!"
"Catch him quick 'fore he gets away," the old lady screamed.
John Burke was lost. He didn't know where he was our how to get out. He turned, saw the old man race around the end of the chute, hammer cocked over his shoulder. John's back was to the wall. Wildly, he glanced around for something he could use. There was nothing.
To his left, twenty feet away was the corner of the room and a closed door.
The old man saw John looking. "You'll never get out." But he slowed down, approaching cautiously, angling toward the door to cut off John's only escape route.
The old man looked nervous about the door. John broke and ran. Waves of pain shot up his leg from his swollen ankle but he ignored it. The old man lunged toward the door to intercept. John tried to stop and start, throw a fake at the old man, but his ankle folded and he hit the floor.
The old man dropped to one knee beside him and raised the hammer over his head. "Got you!"
But as the killer blow came down, John shifted slightly to the side and the hammer struck the cement beside his head, sending tiny chips flying into his face. He lashed out with his good foot, missed the old man's head but caught him in the ribs. As the old man grunted and toppled over, John got to his feet and struggled to the door.
Locked.
John twisted the knob and screamed in rage. The old man stood up. Mounted on the wall next to the door was a gray metal circuit box, the handle protruding from its side angled up in the on position. An electrical shut off.
"Get him, poppy," the old woman screamed from the other side of the room. A nice old couple who called each other momma and poppy.
John grabbed the handle with both hands, shot a glance at the old man, saw him bearing down, and pulled.
Lights out. Total darkness.
Just in time John ducked. He heard the old man grunt as the hammer dug into the drywall. With his manacled hands, John shoved the old man, then ran along the wall to his left. Moving through the dark it felt like a mile. The old lady screamed.
Cuffed hands out in front with the torn leather belt dangling from them, John ran into the wall and turned right. He had no idea where to go or what to do. Just knew he had to put as much distance as he could between him and the old man. At the next corner he turned right again. Just up ahead he heard the old lady. "Poppy, I can't see."
He slowed down, tried to catch his breath. Then the lights came on. Poppy must have gotten to the switch. John found himself next to the stainless steel butchering table, and face-to-face with the old lady. With the power on, her electric carving knife started buzzing.
"I got him, poppy!" she said and chopped at him with the knife.
John jerked his head back as the humming blade passed less than an inch from his eyes.
"Momma!" the old man screamed.
John looked across the big room at the old man by the door. Hammer swinging from his hand, he started to run towards them but had to go around the cattle chute. The old lady again cut at John but this time he managed to catch her wrist in his hands. As he kicked her in the shin he heard one of his bare toes crack, but she loosened her grip on the knife and he was able to jerk it out of her hand.
The old man rounded the end of the chute and howled in rage as he saw them struggling. Momma clawed at John's eyes with both hands, but he managed to close them just as her nails raked his face. Carving knife in hand, he slashed at the old lady. The vibrating blade ripped into the side of her neck and cut across her throat. She gurgled up a foul smelling blast of air from her open trachea that made John gag. With her eyes wide open, the old lady looked stunned as her knees folded and she collapsed to the ground.
John Burke turned and the old man was right on top of him, screaming, swinging the hammer at his head. As John raised the carving knife, the hammer snapped the blade off and knocked it from his hand. The old man lunged closer, grabbed him by the throat with his left hand and raised the hammer again.
John threw an awkward jab with his shackled hands and hit the old man in the face with just enough force to stun him into losing his grip on John's neck. Then with a two-handed uppercut to the gut, this one with a little more behind it, he doubled the old man over, then ran for the door.
Standing in front of the door, he jerked down the power switch and again shrouded the room in darkness. He raised his good leg and kicked the wooden door as hard as he could. It gave just a little. Behind him he heard the old man crying, and something else--things being knocked over, things hitting the floor, the sounds of searching.
As John kicked again, his bad ankle screamed in pain, yet still the door held. He caught his breath, raised his good leg and managed one more kick. This time the knob splintered off and the door flew open. Stairs led up.
Behind him, a two-count metallic click echoed through the room. The unmistakable sound of a shell being chambered. A shotgun.
Fighting back the pain, John loped up the stairs as the shotgun blasted behind him. Upstairs he found himself in an empty kitchen. He moved down a short hallway that opened into a room he recognized, the den of the old lady's house. It was dark outside and only a few lights were on inside the house.
Footsteps on the cellar stairs.
Frantically, John looked around, seeing the big bay windows, but no door to the outside. He knocked the dead telephone to the ground, snatched up the end table, and heaved it through one of the windows.
Outside the air was warm and muggy, the ground soft like after a rain. Naked, except for the handcuffs and leather belt hanging from them, John staggered toward the woods just beyond the house. As he reached the first trees he heard another shotgun blast behind him, heard glass shatter, heard pellets tearing through the trees to his right.
Into the trees, getting some of them between him and the house in case the old man ripped off another shot.
"Murderer! I'll kill you," the old timer yelled through the trees. Almost funny, a minute ago the old man trying to bash his brains in with a hammer but still had the nerve to call him a murderer. Not to mention the sweet old lady carving a man like a Christmas turkey.
John turned forty-five degrees to the right. Choosing a zig-zag over a straight line. A minute later he heard another shot, then the pellets ripped into the branches off to his left. A frustration shot. The old man had guessed he'd turn but he'd guessed the wrong way.
He'd gotten out of shape. Just a few minutes into the woods he was puffing like a steam train, a stitch like a knife twisting into his side. John could feel his ankle starting to swell. Time for the zag so he turned left, crossed through what he guessed was fifty or sixty yards of woods, then suddenly burst into a clearing--the cemetery. The high three-quarter moon cast short, dark shadows from the tombstones. Blackness in a sea of night.
Something crashed through the brush behind him in the distance, followed by bark of a big dog. John had trouble as he stepped over the low spiked fence that surrounded the graveyard. For a second he had to put all of his weight on his bad leg and came close to impaling himself.
John remembered another fence, a six-foot iron one that spanned the front of the property, the half-inch thick bars thrust at the sky like black spears. If it circled the whole property, how the hell was he going to get out?
The barking grew louder.
As he limped between the gravestones, John heard the old man cursing in the distance, farther away than the dog, but getting closer. Terror's icy hand gripped John Burke's heart. His feet stopped moving and he dropped down onto a soft, moist patch of earth and leaned his back against a marble slab that marked someone's final resting place, someone whose troubles were over for good. John put his head into his hands as despair washed over him.
He wasn't going to get away. Not on a bad ankle. Not with his hands cuffed. Not from a madman with a dog and shotgun. A madman who kept humans like cattle, who beat men to death with a hammer, whose wife ran a human butcher shop. They were close, the old man and his dog. John could hear the dog tearing through the underbrush just inside the woods, just beyond the cemetery fence. In a minute it would all be over. He wondered if Gail would ever find out what happened to him? To die like this, in a bone yard, victim to a crazy old man and his even crazier wife.
Fear, despair, hopelessness--these feelings surged through John as a sob racked his body so hard it bounced his back off the marble tombstone and shot a bolt of pain down his spine. Then, as if cleansed by fire, those feelings melted like snow, replaced by something new, by something better, by something that fueled him--Rage.
Perched in front of the grave next to him was a thick marble urn, holding a bouquet of long dead flowers. John rolled to it, grabbed the urn in both hands, and dumped out the withered flora. He felt the comforting weight of the urn, heavy enough to crush a dog's skull, or a man's.
He wasn't going to make it easy. If they were going to kill him, they'd have to work for it. The headstones were too small to hide behind unless he crouched down and John didn't want to crouch down and hide. He was through hiding, besides, his ankle couldn't take much crouching. Better to let the dog see him, try to get rid of the mutt before the old man made it out of the woods.
The underbrush got quiet. The dog was out of the woods. No more barking. The moonlight and the shadows played tricks on John's eyes. A glimpse of movement at the fence then nothing. He strained his eyes, willing them to see through the darkness but it was his ears that responded, picking up the quick thumping of padded feet on the wet grass. The sound coming from his left. John raised the urn and turned, then heard it behind him, much closer. A throaty growl. He tried to spin around but the furry beast hit him in the back.
Claws raked his bare shoulder blades as he slammed face first into the ground and the marble urn flew from his hands, useless. Sharp teeth gripped the back of his head and shook it like the stuffed head of a doll. His scalp tore--he actually felt it--as the dog growled and bit harder.
"Get him, boy!" the old man shouted from somewhere near the edge of the woods.
John used his good left leg to push into the ground and roll. The dog tightened its grip on John's head and tried to roll with him but John used his arms to topple the German Shepherd off of him. As the brute tried to regain his feet, John kept rolling until he was on top with the dog pinned under him. The canine's jaws sprung open, looking for something to bite as John grabbed the animal's big head, one hand on each side, and forced the handcuff chain and part of the leather belt into the back of its mouth.
With his naked body pressing down on the dog, John forced the Shepherd's head back. The handcuff chain cut into the roof of the dog's mouth as John pushed back harder and harder. The beast's nails ripped at John's chest and thighs, but still he forced the big head back until the dog's agonized yelping was cut short by a loud crack, like the dry snap of a rotten branch, as its neck broke and body went limp.
John rolled off of the dead dog and struggled to his feet. The old man yelled, "Did you get him, Butch? Did you get him?" John turned toward the sound of the man's voice and saw him stumble out of the woods, just on the other side of the fence, shotgun held across his chest. The old man's eyes locked on the animal lying on the ground. "Butch!" he cried, voice cracked with emotion Then he raised his shotgun.
John dropped behind a headstone just as a blast ripped through the air. Pellets smacked into the other side of the stone. Then, as the double click of a new shell being racked into the chamber echoed across the graveyard, John scrambled away on all fours, keeping his head below the top of the tombstones.
By the time he reached the cemetery fence, John could barely move. His breath came in ragged gasps; his chest, shoulders, and thighs were on fire; and the back of his neck felt wet and sticky. He lifted his cuffed hands over his head and wiped at his neck. His palms came away covered with blood, blood that looked almost black in the moonlight.
One foot got tangled going over the fence and John fell, landing with a thud on the other side. Behind him, fifty yards at most, he could hear the old man's quick shuffle coming across the cemetery. The old man mumbling and cursing to himself. Once John got into the tree line he felt a little safer, something between him and muzzle of that shotgun. But the going was slow. Much tougher than before. He started to feel dizzy. The dog had torn him up and he knew he was bleeding badly.
He'd made it this far but knew there was no way he could make it all the way back home, at least not tonight. Too tired and too hurt. But with the dog dead, all he had to do was shake the old man off his trail, then hole up somewhere until daylight. In the morning he would parallel the road just inside the trees to keep out of sight. His house was only two miles away. He would make it even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees the whole way.
He ran into the fence. Six feet tall, made of pointed wrought iron bars, no more than ten inches apart. Impossible to slip between them. The bars braced by two thin rectangular, iron beams that ran the length of the fence. One, a foot from the ground; the other, a foot from the top.
John hadn't gained any distance on the old man. He could hear his thrashing back in the trees, his slow, steady pace, his mumbling punctuated by curses.
There was only one way to get out and that was over the fence. John set his feet on the bottom support and grabbed the top crossbar with both hands, but with his wrists cuffed he couldn't spread his hands out. He couldn't climb.
He managed to pull himself up so his chin was over the top of the fence and then swung his good leg up. It didn't go high enough. Arms straining, he swung it up harder and managed to hook his heel on the top support, between two of the bars. That's when he lost his grip.
John fell but his foot stayed. He heard his ankle crack and he screamed. Caught between the two vertical bars and the horizontal support, his bare foot was wedged in tight and he hung upside down, naked, like a stuck pig being bled in a slaughterhouse.
The old man stepped out from the trees, shotgun held across his chest like a soldier. Fifteen feet from John, he raised it to his shoulder and grinned as he pulled the trigger. CLICK.
"Goddamit!" He racked the pump, took aim, and pulled the trigger again. Another empty click. This time he slammed the pump back and stared into the open chamber. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled, then grabbed the barrel in a two handed grip.
He swung it like a baseball bat at John's head and all John Burke could do was close his eyes. Just before the wooden stock crashed into his skull, he heard himself say, "Gail."
* * *
Gail Burke was on the toilet, in the middle of peeing, when the doorbell rang. "John," she heard herself say. "God, please let it be John." She pulled on her jeans and ran to the door, didn't even flush. But it wasn't John. It was a man, old but distinguished looking in a dark suit with a pale blue tie draped in front of a starched white shirt. She glanced behind him and saw a van parked in her driveway. Not a minivan, but a full-sized, white work van, windowless except for the driver and passenger doors. No name on the side.
"Can I help you?" she asked, losing hope her caller had anything to do with John.
He raised his hands slightly and she noticed they held a round plastic container. Rubbermaid, or Tupperware, with a lid on it. "Yes," she said.
"Mrs. Burke?"
Gail nodded.
My name is Muller, Frank Muller. He nodded to the right. "I live on Cemetery Road."
She gave him a brief smile.
"I've read about your...your husband's disappearance in the paper."
At first she'd had a lot of visitors like this. Well-wishers, sympathizers, but it had been two weeks and people had stopped coming by. Mostly, she guessed they thought John's disappearance maybe wasn't so mysterious after all. Middle-aged man, married for a dozen years, suddenly takes off. Maybe found a young girl. No mystery there. But she knew that wasn't what he'd done. Something terrible had happened. She could feel it.
"Thank you," was all she could think of to say.
He raised his hands again. "I've brought you something. Chili, my wife's secret recipe."
She looked at the container. The two-gallon size. That's a lot of chili, she thought. She caught a whiff of it as he slipped one hand under the container and lifted part of the lid with the other. He said, "Chock full of beef and beans. Put some meat on your bones."
Gail felt her face flush. Her jeans hung loosely on her hips. She'd lost ten pounds since John disappeared and hadn't had it to spare to begin with. "Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr..." She couldn't even remember the gentleman's name.
"Muller," he said.
"Of course," she said quickly. "Thank you again, Mr. Muller." Gail reached for the container. "To be honest I haven't felt much like cooking and that smells delicious. Please tell Mrs. Muller that I said--"
Mr. Muller shook his head. "Buried her recently."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
As she took the chili from him, he forced a smile. "I made it but it's her recipe so if it's good she gets the credit." He laughed a more genuine laugh. "And if it's bad, I'll take the blame."
She felt the heat through the plastic. They said goodbye and Gail Burke went inside to eat a bowl of Mrs. Muller's secret recipe. She felt her stomach growl with hunger. If it tasted as good as it smelled, maybe she'd have two bowls.
THE END

Welcome to Green Valley

Four Merry Jaunts Through the Bumpkin Quest Campaign

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide Spring Cleaning time! This includes a parade, a festival, and a temple ceremony. These events are haunted by and angry goose hating enchanted broom.
CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens Folks need to eat. And round here they like to eat massive angry chickens. Somebody's gotta deliver them, and that somebody is your players!
CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent Simple problems require convoluted solutions. Help Marvin enchant a plow that can pass through stones. What could go wrong?
CHAPTER 4: High Society After earning some respect the players get invited to a high falutin social dilly do. But not as guests. As the help. And this party is gonna need it! The entertainment is about to become a mesmerizing problem.
ADVENTURE MECHANICS - Target Character Level: Commoners or Level 1 - Target Party Size: Four Players - Average Adventure Playtime: 2ish Hours - Tone: Rural Mayhem and Foolishness
Grab the Free PDF Here. https://www.patreon.com/posts/adventure-to-83830560
I’ve also put these adventures into our *Bumpkin Quest: Campaign Guide https://www.patreon.com/posts/guide-bumpkin-to-80202231 The guide fills in the details of Green Valley pretty thoroughly. The quests are simple enough to be run in any setting you choose, but if you're interested in more the Guide has about two dozen Custom Maps, 70+ NPCs, Location Descriptions, 20+ Local Legends, and Scores of Adventure and Event Ideas. You can grab the PDF Free at the link above.

Hills Furrow

At the center of the Valley sits a patch of small grassy hills, through which the Slow Water meanders through. Built into these hills is the Village of Hills Furrow. Celebrated by everyone living in The Valley and boasting a whopping population of almost 150, Hills Furrow is the center of commerce and social importance. Well, at least as far as the locals are concerned. Realistically it would be less than a blip on the grand scale of things, a mere kernel of wheat in the silo of civilization, but to those who live here, there is nothing quite like living in the “city”.
The Village itself, like the Valley, is predominantly Halfling, and their fancy dwellings are burrowed into the hillsides as often as possible. These dwellings have been family owned for generations only becomeing available if there are no heirs to pass them along to. Other folk live in well kept two story shingled buildings, most of which house a business on the lower floor and house the Shopkeepers and their families above their workplaces, though a few live in nearby homes. There aren’t many “rental” spaces in town, as property is usually bought up quickly by the Halfling Families, but there are long term options at either of the Inns in town.
Hills Furrow: Locations 1) The Crocked Crow (Inn and Tavern) 2) The Dancing Lamb (Inn and Tavern) 3) The Moaning Toad (Tavern) 4) Granny's Groceries (General Market) 5) Get Nailed (Hardware and Distilery) 6) Gimdurh's Hammer (Smithy) 7) Brenra's Mechanicals (Tinker) 8) Hjoldren's Home Goods (Carpenter) 9) Standard Industries (Office) 10) Fit to be Dyed (Tailor) 11) The Last Loaf (Baker) 12) The Cloudy Cleaver (Butcher) 13) Nature's Medecine (Apothecary) 14) Sheriff's Office 15) Green Valley School House 16) The Waterwheel 17) The Windmill 18) The Undercloak Estate 19) Truefoot Burrow 20) The Meadows Family Hill
The locals are hospitable and friendly enough, but they do not really trust outsiders. Folks from foreign places are good for trade, news, and little else. Those that come through are treated well enough as long as they don’t wear out their welcome. Locals, well, that’s a bit of a different story. The city and area doesn’t operate under a written caste system or social structure, but there is clearly a pecking order, and family heritage matters a great deal to folks in Hills Furrow. Most locals, whether they’ve gotten an education or not, can easily be classified as simple. It isn’t that they are slow of mind or unintelligent, but more that they are unconcerned with matters the outside world considers important. This sentiment has created a general, but friendly, dislike between those that consider themselves Highfalutin and those that clearly are not.
Well now that I've given you the fifty cent tour. Shall we get on to adventure?

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide

We will open our journeys in the Green Valley at Green Tide, the annual celebration of Winter’s End. This adventure is designed to give a tour of Hills Furrow and introduce them to the locals. It will begin with some chores around their house to prepare for the festival and end with a battle involving an enchanted broom. If you did not do Session Zero, this chapter may take a bit longer as we get to know everyone and their characters.

ACT 1: Pre-Festival

The locals spend the week cleaning out their houses and farms. They gather old junk and unused items to be used later in the festival. They also begin preparing what food is left from winter to be used in a celebration and feasts.
Things to do! - Have the Players clean up junk around the house - Have them Find something strange (Perhaps used for a later mystery?) - Have them Decorate their Broom - Have them run a Household Errand (Meet an NPC)

ACT 2: Sweeping Day

A merry festival celebrating Spring cleaning and putting the past behind them. They form a parade, with one member from each house carrying a brightly decorated broom and using it to symbolically “Sweep Away Winter”. The rest of the family marches their winter’s trash and unused goods down to the Fairgrounds. The goods are often traded, while the trash is piled in the fire pit to await burning later. The entire day is filled with fun outdoor activities. Households also symbolically bring their problems to the bonfires to burn them later.
Things to do! - March in the Parade - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals
EVENT: I Love a Parade
The parade will march North from near the Cross Roads in the South up around the hill and back again to the South where it will head for the Fairgrounds. There isn’t anything particularly challenging about this event, but it would be a wonderful place to start leaning into or building local rivalries.
EVENT: Never Seen a Broom Do That… As they come into the home stretch of the Parade one of the local’s Brooms will animate and take off. It will chase folks around the parade. The players can attempt to stop it, but the broom will flee soon after being attacked. It will fly up into the air, attack a flock of geese, and chase them off until it can’t be seen anymore. They can go and collect a fallen goose if they wish. I highly recommend giving it a motorcycle type sound as it flies around hitting folks. Maybe even going as far as giving it a rough gravel angry voice and letting it insult people.

ACT 3: Winter’s End

Winter’s End is a Combination of Groundhog’s Day and Fasnacht, this day gets a little wild. The Festival kicks off at dawn with the Great Gopher Hunt. Gophers are well known spies for The Voice of Winter and thus need to be hunted before they can tell The Voice to delay Spring. Gophers themselves are quite tasty, and are notoriously bad for crops, so this works out economically all around. Throughout the rest of the day families continue to contribute to the Bonfire Pile which often gets quite large. At dusk a large effigy of The Voice of Winter is placed on top of the pile. Once the sun has fully set they light the fire and burn the Effigy. Folk usually dress darkly during the day and brightly at night. After the burning they feast on sweets and treats that were made from goods saved up from winter storage.
Things to do! - The Great Gopher Hunt - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals - The Fairground’s Activities
EVENT: The Great Gopher Hunt The Hunt begins at dawn and takes place all over the Valley. Locals race to collect as many Gophers as possible. It is easiest to kill the Gopher, but there are some that find that distasteful. Instead they live trap the critters. It is a bit tougher to do so, but an option should your players wish. This is most easily played out as a series of appropriate Skill Checks, in which the higher they score the more gophers they obtain.
EVENT: Trash Removal They may find some locals willing to pay them to help cart junk down to the bonfire pile. Not a lot of skill involved in this, but it is a great opportunity to meet locals, and you could throw a runaway cart at them.
Fair Activities They will probably want to take part in Fairground Activities. Players love these types of challenges. Here are a few ideas you can build on. - Axe Throwin: Basic attack rolls on a Round Target. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Bow Shootin: Basic attack rolls on Moving Targets. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Pig Chasin: Catch the greased Pig! Medium DC Challenge requiring three success before three Failures. - Mud Wrastlin: Nothing says bumpkin like a good Mud Wrastlin Pit. Contested Skill Challenges. - Sausage Eating Contest: Increasingly difficult DC Challenge. Eat till you puke! Can also be Pies or Ribs or Little Fish… you know whatever someone wants to stuff dozens of in their gullet. - Tug O’War: Team Strength Challenge. Three to Five Contested Rolls with opposing teams. - Gopher BBQ Cook Off: A Hard Culinary Challenge to see who can BBQ the best Gopher! - Races: Foot and Mount Races based on Three to Five Contested Rolls. I usually include a few odd mounts like a Giant Chicken or some such nonsense.

ACT 4: Day of Ashes

The Day of Ashes is a day of rest, recovery, and reflection. Locals take the ashes from the bonfires and rub their hands in them to symbolize the end of a hard year’s work and hardships of the past. The day ends with a large family feast, typically Pork. Activities this day are light, but many folks head to the Temple for the Calling of Spring Blessings. They put on their fancies and head down to ask forgiveness for over-indulging in the festival and for worship. Well sort of…
Unfortunately, a lot of folks take this as an opportunity to peacock about and practice their one-upmanship over other locals. If you’re looking for inspiration for their outfits look to older photos of the Kentucky Derby. Over the years this troubling practice has caused more than one fight to break out after the service.
*Things to do! * - Go to Temple and Meet More Locals - Pick a Local Patron!
EVENT: Temple Services The majority of the town comes to Temple on this day. The service is usually longer, and a bit more “Where have most of you been all year?” But otherwise it is a call for the Divine Blessings to touch their crops and protect their lives. It ends with a ceremony in which the locals put their hands into the ashes from yesterday’s bonfire. Once services end they will head outside, where the trouble will begin. Two of the wealthier families will get into it with each other. Starting with a couple of veiled insults, probably before service and continuing afterward. If one of your players is from a local Rich Folk family then they can be right in the middle of it all, otherwise they will have to pick a side. This choice will determine their house Patron moving forward. Tension will increase until folks start drawing up sides, and then someone will throw a rotten tomato at one of the House Matrons. That will blow the lid off the incident and a yokel brawl will break out. For comedy purposes I recommend the instant appearance of several food carts filled with expired products, and maybe a six year old hustler selling big sticks for wacking folks with. As the locals brawl call for perception checks. Who ever rolls highest begins to hear… The Broom returning!
ENCOUNTER: Stick In The Eye The broom returns ready to whoop some ash. It will be absolutely bent on cleaning anyone and everyone who is even the slightest bit dirty! If it successfully attacks a character they will have to make a Strength Saving throw or be knocked to the ground and swept clean by the broom. As this would be an awful omen for the year folks are terrified and will be running around screaming. Absolute mass hysteria. If the players were lucky enough to hear it coming they can avoid being surprised by the broom. Otherwise the broom will get a full round to attack before they have a chance to do anything. They’ll have to beat the broom into submission any way they can before it sweeps the whole town into chaos!

CLOSING

After defeating the broom things will settle back down again. Bumpkins are quick to return to normal when things go awry. However, they will have gotten the attention of one of the Wealthy Families in the area and be offered jobs. Which family is really, based on what will work best for them and you as the DM. For gags you might be tempted to have the Yokels pick them up, but that is a hard bit to sustain, and you may be better served keeping them on the side as a comic foil rather than up front. Completely up to you. The session should end with them being invited to meet their new patron tomorrow someplace important.

CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens

After successfully defeating the Enchanted Broom, our Bumpkins have gained the attention of a possible local Patron. This individual has summoned them to a nearby farm to discuss future work. That work includes proving themselves capable and not just lucky.

ACT 1: Meet the Boss

In this Act the players will meet with their new patron, one of the Family Heads, who that is entirely depends on their choices from the last game. This entire side branch is designed to flavor the background of the campaign, but if you’d rather just have them stay freelancing and independent that’s fine as well. There is also the possibility of “competing” offers should they have second thoughts for any reason. Once they arrive at the meeting spot their Patron will ask them some questions about their ambitions (Class Goals), they will then hand them off to their new “boss” who will assign them their task. They will take them to a nearby barn.
NPC: “Boss” Needs a fitting name for the Family they work for... Character wise, what we got here is a standard “Ranch Foreman” character. They’re tough, A little mean, and completely loyal to their employer. They almost certainly chew tobacco (by the handful), have a tattoo of the Ranch’s Brand, and know where all the bodies are buried. They also have a huge and obvious scar on the side of their head where a Giant Chicken pecked a hole in their skull, so they’re not as bright as they used to be, not at all truthfully. Nor are they actually the Foreman anymore, but no one has a heart to tell them. They’ve been quietly downgraded to Chicken Handler, which is something they seem to remember quite well, but the brain damage keeps them from realizing all that. They can be found wandering the Farm giving strange orders to other Hands. These Hands nod politely and then go back to what they are doing.
Things To Do! - Meet Their Patron - Discuss Their Future - Meet Their New “Boss”

ACT 2: Chicken Dance

Boss will lead them into the odd looking barn. This building is filled with Giant Chickens. These two-three foot fouls have extremely exaggerated features, spiky looking beaks with sharp tooth like edges, big darting eyes, bumpy cracked skin, long gnarled talons, and dirty mottled feathers. They’re more beast than bird. But, they’re good for eatin! These creatures should have a stat block similar to an Axe Beak. When the players enter into the Barn the Chickens will go nuts, obviously deeply bothered by the intrusion. Boss will throw in some deer haunches and the birds will tear them apart in a feeding frenzy. They will then put on a Chicken Suit and begin a flapping dance. (Google Magnificent Riflebird) It should be absolutely captivating and the chickens will become mesmerized, watching every move. Boss will then load two dozen chickens onto a large wagon and lock it. They will have the players push the wagon out while he keeps the Chickens calm. Once outside they’ll hang heavy tarps on the sides of the wagon, and remove the suit. He will then explain to them that they need to keep the tarps on the wagon, and keep the birds well fed, or the chickens will get restless and become violent. When they do need to interact with them someone will have to wear the suit and dance to keep them calm. The bigger the person in the suit the better. Boss will then give them a Map of Green Valley and instruct them to drop off two chickens at each of the outer settlements. They have two days to get this done.
Things To Do! - Head into the barn - Witness The Dance of The Chicken - Push the Wagon out - Get the Costume and Delivery Instructions

ACT 3: Bumpy Roads

They will be off to deliver the Chickens to various locations. There is no specific order to this delivery, they just need to pick a route and go. If they’re short on time they can take the country roads that lead between the outer settlements, but these aren’t as well kept as the main roads are. Whatever road they take and wherever they decide to stop for the night there are problems they will encounter along the way. You can make them random or pick the ones that best suit your players. Most of these should at some point require someone putting on the suit and dancing for the chickens to keep them calm. I would also increase the difficulty of each event. If they fail a dance the Chickens will become restless and start attacking the cart until they are calmed down. Too many failures and the wagon’s cage will break and the remaining chickens escape. They will then have to be rounded up and the cage repaired.
Things to Do! - Decide the delivery route - Deliver the chickens - Keep the Chickens calm
Possible Road Events 1) Rough roads cause problems 2) Yokels attempt to see what’s in the cart 3) Bad Weather swamps the road or scares the chickens 4) Pack of Coyotes causes trouble. 5) Chicken Rustlers! Protect the Flock! 6) Wagon breaks and needs repair 7) Cows in the road, someone’s herd is out. 8) Broken Bridge, not gone, just broken

ACT 4: Final Delivery

They’re now closing in on the final delivery. Something needs to happen here to cause them to put the suit on. Or maybe they never took it off! I love that idea, that one of your players just loves the suit and wants to be a chicken… lol… Anyway I’m a fan of having them need to get out of the suit for some reason, maybe a bathroom break, or they stand on a fire ant hill, or a snake slithers up their leg. You know something silly and fun. BUT the zipper is stuck! So they’ll have to try and unstick it and fast! Whatever happens they’re going to get shot at by some hunters looking for a big score who have mistaken the flailing caused by the stuck zipper to be the chicken attacking. After dealing with the Hunters they can go ahead and make the final drop. And head home.
Things to Do! - Head for the final delivery - Get shot at! - Deliver the last chickens
ENCOUNTER: That’s a BIG Chicken! Having two hunters in the field is more than enough to cause a problem for the players. The hunters will almost certainly surprise the players, but you can allow them a perception check, if they succeed they’ll see the hunters just before the muskets go off. It would be OK to down the Chicken Player here if the hunters successfully hit it. They’ll have healer’s kits on hand because, well, this seems to happen to them a lot out here. After the initial attack the players can decide to attack back or try and talk the hunters down. A basic Bandit or Scout stat block should do will for the hunters. If you’re looking for a bit more mayhem, if the hunters miss the players you could have them hit the cage, and you know, bust it open. This may be especially tempting if they
POSSIBLE ENCOUNTER: Big Ol' Frog So there is a giant frog hiding in the mud down in the creek. If a player takes cover behind the banks there is a good chance that the frog will attempt to nab the player as a snack. If it is successful in grabbing a player with its tongue it will immediately head down river, and they'll have to chase it to get their friend back.

CLOSE

When they return, Boss will reward them. How much will depend on how successful they were delivering the birds. If they did a descent job, they will be paid two day’s wages each. If they were completely successful they can have a bonus. However, if the wagon is in bad shape they might have some money deducted. After they’re paid out, they will be dismissed, and told to expect a new assignment next week.

CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent

After successfully delivering chickens Boss is going to trust them with a more important task. Their employer has requested an item to be created by Marvin the Magnificent. This is a farming community so having enchanted Farming Equipment is extremely desirable. Marvin has done a lot of basic enchantments over the years, but this new one, an The Stone Skipper, a plough whose blade goes ethereal while in contact with stones too large to push away, has really put him to the test. He needs some help with the final enchantments. The players will have to travel to the Ethereal Plane and hit the Blade of the plow with large rocks. But there’s a problem, they’re going to have mischievous Ethereal Sprites attempting to stop them! If they’re successful, which they should be, they get to take the plough for a test drive, and deal with the strange side effects of the enchantment. Angry goats that blink in and out of existence.

ACT 1: To the Tower

They’ll be summoned out to the Ranch where they’ll meet with Boss again. Once there they will notice a large pile of bent and dinged up plows. Boss will explain to them that a recent land acquisition has become problematic. The Fields are filled with large stones just under the topsoil and they’ve damaged a lot of Plow Blades. The Smithing costs are getting out of hand and so their Patron is looking for an alternate solution to the problem. He is sending them to help Marvin the Magnificent, who has taken the job, but run into some complications and needs some help. They may ask about Marvin. Or perhaps the fields that were purchased, so be ready to answer these types of questions. Once they’re done here they can head to Marvin’s Tower, which is just north of town.
Things to Do! - Meet Boss again - Ask some Informational Questions - Head for the Tower
NPC: Marvin the Magnificent Marvin Boudenbaum, AKA Marvin the Magnificent, has lived in town a good number of years, he wasn’t born here but is considered local by most folk. He is a mage of some skill, having mastered spells up to level 3 spells, and is frequently hired by locals to use his magic for anything and everything that their bumpkin brains can cook up. Thing is… Marvin has extraordinary bad luck, so bad in fact that his spellwork has a tendency to go wrong. Typically, it doesn’t go wrong in a dangerous fashion, but there was that time little Timmy Proudfoot was flung into the Astral Sea. Marvin was about to be sentenced for Negligent Magic Murdering when Timmy was suddenly returned by Captain Jinny Steampipe of the Atomic Dustbin (An Astral Spell Ship). Timmy was ok and Jinny and crew spent a few weeks spending some money and telling everyone in town amazing stories of the Astral Sea, so all was forgiven. Marvin, has since taken to having anyone who hires him sign liability waivers, you know just in case. He lives in a small tower just outside of town to the North.

ACT 2: Marvin the Magnificent

As they approach the tower they should see an explosion at the peak of the structure. It should look similar to a fireworks mishap. When it clears there will be no visible damage to the tower, But Marvin will plummet to the earth just off to the side of them, landing in a small pond. He will then come charging out of the pond, laughing hysterically, and riding on a large turtle. Once he gets a few feet away from the pond the turtle will disappear and he will tumble to the ground right in front of the players. He will leap up quickly and turn toward the players. “Behold Travelers, You stand in the presence of Marvin the Magnificent! And everything you have witness was mostly intended!” He will then strike a cool pose with his wand pointed to the sky! “Now why do you approach my tower!?”
Once Marvin finds out they’ve been sent about the plow he will become more nervous looking. “I see, well follow me. We have work to do.” He will then start walking toward the tower… his boots squishing out water. This should give them a little time to ask a few questions. Marvin will be a little subversive about what they need to do. He will attempt to frame it very mysteriously, saying things like “All will be revealed soon.” and “Save your questions! All Answers await us… in the future!” If they ask him about what they witnessed outside, he will tell them he was working on a mount summoning spell designed for lakes and rivers.
Things to Do! - Head toward the Tower - Meet Marvin - Ask Questions

ACT 3: The Cabinet of Mysteries

The inside of the Wizard’s Tower will be far more mundane than they likely expect. At least on the first floor. It will have a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen, as well as a few odds and ends about. Nothing special at all. The second floor, are Marvin’s personal quarters and some room for study, but it is the third floor, where Marvin will lead them, and it will be more of what one would expect in a Wizard’s tower. There will be books shelves, arcane equipment, and storage for components. In the middle of the room will be a tall cabinet.
Marvin will explain to them that the Cabinet is a transportation device, and that he will need them to enter into it with a plow that he has recently enchanted. They will be taken to the Ethereal Plane, and once there they’ll need to take the plow outside and begin hitting it with large field stones. There is a large pile of stones just on the north edge of the tower. They’ll have to do this quickly, before the “others” show up. Who are the others? Hard to say, but there are things that live in the Ethereal Plane that don’t like intruders. The idea is to imbue the Plow with Ethereal Powers so it can pass through large stones while plowing fields. Once they return with the Enchanted Plow, Marvin will have them load it on a cart, pulled by a very smart Donkey, and send them on their way.
Skill Challenge: Enchant the Plow This skill challenge will require five successes before they’re incapacitated by the others. However they decide to do it, they’ll have to successfully hit the plow with five large stones. Failures will result in strange indiscernible entities attacking them. They do minimal damage but could knock people out if there are enough failures.
Things to Do! - Move Through Marvin’s Tower - Enter the Cabinet - Enchant the Plow

ACT 4: Blinking Goats

Upon returning to Boss with the Plow they will be happily greet and paid. Their Patron will be there and will be very pleased with their success. He will ask them to demonstrate the plow’s abilities. Once they get set up out in the field and begin plowing something weird will happen. Every time they hit a stone and the plow’s power activates an Ethereal Goat will manifest and kick or ram the plow, and then disappear. It will feel very similar to what they encountered in the Ethereal Plane. They’ll have to find a way to deal with the manifestations.
ENCOUNTER: Ethereal Goats These goats should function very similarly to Blink Dogs, but I would trim the HP and AC a little to put them in line with the party’s. They will be intent on breaking the Plow not the party, although they will attack the party if they can’t get to the Plow.
Things to Do! - Deliver the Plow - Drive the Plow - Defeat the Ethereal Goats

CLOSE

Once defeated the Boss will come over to yell at them, but the Patron will find the entire thing amusing and more importantly, another impressive demonstration of the player’s skills. He will invite them to the “House” for an important party next week.

CHAPTER 4: High Society

They've definitely been noticed now and have impressed with their ability, unconventional as it may be. They are invited to their patron's home, but not as guests. Though, they might think they were actually invited as guests! They have been brought in to help work the event held out at the Party Field. They will have to gather party supplies, help put up the tent, and then serve the actual guests. During the evening’s entertainment a hypnotist “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will mesmerize the crowd and attempt to rob them all. Hopefully the players don’t fall victim to her schemes. And if they do oh well, they’ll be entertained all the same.

ACT 1: Special Delivery

The players arrive at the Patron’s very nice property. They will be greeted by a properly dressed servant with a clipboard, the Party Planner. The Planner will be rigid and direct. They will immediately begin tasking them about. If they mention that they were invited to the party the servant will laugh “You didn’t think you were a guest? Oh dear, how embarrassing. You’re the help! It is still a great honor to be tasked to help at the Party, but you’re not guests. Now as for your current task. Head into town and gather these supplies. Bring them to the field by noon.” After the instructions are given the servant will go back to their tasks and expect the players to do the same. They will have three stops; The Crocked Crow for Food and Beer, Get Nailed for the Tent and Spirits, and Shalana Proud-Breed’s Tailor Shop to pick up the Dry Cleaning. Feel free to make any and all of these go sideways! Its a good place to toss in some shenanigans as well! They should also be introduced to Dr Hypnotika and her associates.
Things To do! - Go to their Patron’s Home - Meet the Party Planner and Dr Hypnotika - Run their Errands
NPC: Dr Hypnotika Dr Hypnotika and her group will perform for the party. Hypnotica is a Tiefling Mezmerist and illusionist. She has an obnoxiously high charisma and some pretty serious skills to back up her claims. However, she uses those skills to beguile her guests, robbing them blind while they are under her spells. She wears a fine robe with a bedazzled headwrap. She has dark upward spiraling horns, light purple skin, and matching eyes. She wears a monocle and walks with a ceremonially carved staff depicting the "Struggles of the Universe". She is extremely persuasive and even more deceptive. Even if someone were to grow suspicious she can easily talk her way out of trouble.
NPCs: Clapper and Bob Hypnotika brings with her two assistants. Clapper the suit wearing Kenku who will perform wondrous displays of mimicry and slight of hand, and her strongman Bob the Kobold. Bob wears a leopard print strongman's outfit and is amazingly swole, particularly for a kobold, and capable of lifting upwards of 400lbs. Bob doesn't do much else other than get hit with things. in the act.

ACT 2: Put up the Tent

After they finish running their errands they will be tasked with putting up a large party tent. This Act is an ongoing Skill Challenge and should have a constantly distracted feel to it. First they have to unpack the tent. Then they have to realize some pieces are missing, they’ll have to form a solution to that problem. After that wind should cause some problems as the tent is at least being pulled up. This is a great moment for some wondrous tom-foolery.
Things To do! - Unpack the tent - Deal with missing parts - Secure the tent during the wind gusts

ACT 3: Put These On

After they finish putting up the tent they’ll be sent to the Servant’s Quarters to bathe and change. They’ll get a little time to explore and snoop if they wish. Afterward they’ll be tasked with helping in the kitchen, but unfortunately the cooks are going to have been playing a drinking game all afternoon and are no longer fully capable of doing their jobs. This would make a great moment for some sort of mini-game where the players have to determine whether or not the cooks are doing the right things. Once the dinner has been completed they will have to serve the guests. This is a good place to insert gossip and help them meet a few other folks.
Things To do! - Get changed for the party - Deal with the drunk cooks - Serve the guests drinks and food

ACT 4: An Evening to Remember

At some point in the evening things are going to start sliding downhill. Some of the locals will have become extremely inebriated and will need to be encouraged to leave, or just moved off to the side as they’ve already passed out, before the show begins. Once the show begins the locals will become fixated on the goings on. “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will have put an additive in the drinks for the that will make everyone more susceptible to her powers of persuasion. Once the show starts she will have them all doing silly things, those who drank have disadvantage on saves against her powers. She will end the show asking the guests to display their most valuable treasure, a with a hypnotic pattern and then send her assistants out to collect those treasures. The players will have to “do something” about the thieves.
Things To do! - Deal with Drunks - Watch the Show - Stop the Criminals
ENCOUNTER: Hypnotika's Gang This encounter doesn't have to be a fight. If Hypnotika is caught she may claim it was all part of the act and simple return the valuables with a "no harm, no foul" type attitude. This will be he go to in an attempt to avoid a fight, but if the character persist in some kind of retribution or punishment the situation will devolve into a combat. Hypnotica herself is an Illusionist Wizard but is low on spells after the show. Clapper is a low level rogue and Bob a Barbarian, and should play out as such. Even with Skills they are combat adverse and will be looking for an opportunity to flee rather than fight. They do have a getaway wagon out front that they'll be headed for if things go south.

CLOSE

We’re assuming the Bumpkins at least attempted to stop the robbery. This will draw a lot of attention to them. Their Patron will be well pleased with them, and let them know they will be getting much more important jobs in the future. The guests will also take note and will begin treating them all a bit better. They’re all essentially Folk Heroes at this point for secondary backgrounds. Their Patron should reward them with something very nice as the party kicks back in. They will need to finish out the nights work of course.

QUEST-LINE CLOSING

Congratulations! Your Players have completed their first Quest-line! Hopefully it was a delightful experience. But now that they've finished what comes next? Well, here are some ideas.
Reward Them! They've been doing some rather Adventurous things lately, and therefore should now have a Class Level under their belt, so the real D&D world now opens to them! Maybe it is time for some real adventuring gear. No more sticks, stones, and burlap sack armor.
Folk Heroes? There's a good chance that the Valley is Speaking the News about them and their exploits while drinking in the taverns. They may have even earned the actual Folk Hero Feat! Maybe someone would be interested in giving them a task!
Simply Go Exploring! There are a lot of places in Green Valley that we only dipped our toes into. You could have them head down to Stinkmarsh, or maybe climb up the cliffs of Longridge. The world (Well, the Valley) is wholly open to them.
Explore Local Legends There are lots of local legends they can look into! Hopefully they search out something that isn't too far over their heads!
Continue Working for their Patron It would be an easy DM go to simply to have them continue working for their current Patron. They've probably been impressive enough fo a family to be interested in keeping them on.
Establish Themselves as Adventurers! Maybe they want to set up a Adventurers for Hire business? This "Heroes Guild" approach is really appealing to a lot of players and absolutely plays into Bumpkin Quest. Just remember, this is a place of low key problems that locals make really big deals out of. So the idea of slaying dragons shouldn't really be on the table... that is until an actual dragon shows up! Which one day absolutely should.

Welcome to Green Valley

Four Merry Jaunts Through the Bumpkin Quest Campaign

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide Spring Cleaning time! This includes a parade, a festival, and a temple ceremony. These events are haunted by and angry goose hating enchanted broom.
CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens Folks need to eat. And round here they like to eat massive angry chickens. Somebody's gotta deliver them, and that somebody is your players!
CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent Simple problems require convoluted solutions. Help Marvin enchant a plow that can pass through stones. What could go wrong?
CHAPTER 4: High Society After earning some respect the players get invited to a high falutin social dilly do. But not as guests. As the help. And this party is gonna need it! The entertainment is about to become a mesmerizing problem.
ADVENTURE MECHANICS - Target Character Level: Commoners or Level 1 - Target Party Size: Four Players - Average Adventure Playtime: 2ish Hours - Tone: Rural Mayhem and Foolishness
Grab the Free PDF Here. https://www.patreon.com/posts/adventure-to-83830560
I’ve also put these adventures into our *Bumpkin Quest: Campaign Guide https://www.patreon.com/posts/guide-bumpkin-to-80202231 The guide fills in the details of Green Valley pretty thoroughly. The quests are simple enough to be run in any setting you choose, but if you're interested in more the Guide has about two dozen Custom Maps, 70+ NPCs, Location Descriptions, 20+ Local Legends, and Scores of Adventure and Event Ideas. You can grab the PDF Free at the link above.

Hills Furrow

At the center of the Valley sits a patch of small grassy hills, through which the Slow Water meanders through. Built into these hills is the Village of Hills Furrow. Celebrated by everyone living in The Valley and boasting a whopping population of almost 150, Hills Furrow is the center of commerce and social importance. Well, at least as far as the locals are concerned. Realistically it would be less than a blip on the grand scale of things, a mere kernel of wheat in the silo of civilization, but to those who live here, there is nothing quite like living in the “city”.
The Village itself, like the Valley, is predominantly Halfling, and their fancy dwellings are burrowed into the hillsides as often as possible. These dwellings have been family owned for generations only becomeing available if there are no heirs to pass them along to. Other folk live in well kept two story shingled buildings, most of which house a business on the lower floor and house the Shopkeepers and their families above their workplaces, though a few live in nearby homes. There aren’t many “rental” spaces in town, as property is usually bought up quickly by the Halfling Families, but there are long term options at either of the Inns in town.
Hills Furrow: Locations 1) The Crocked Crow (Inn and Tavern) 2) The Dancing Lamb (Inn and Tavern) 3) The Moaning Toad (Tavern) 4) Granny's Groceries (General Market) 5) Get Nailed (Hardware and Distilery) 6) Gimdurh's Hammer (Smithy) 7) Brenra's Mechanicals (Tinker) 8) Hjoldren's Home Goods (Carpenter) 9) Standard Industries (Office) 10) Fit to be Dyed (Tailor) 11) The Last Loaf (Baker) 12) The Cloudy Cleaver (Butcher) 13) Nature's Medecine (Apothecary) 14) Sheriff's Office 15) Green Valley School House 16) The Waterwheel 17) The Windmill 18) The Undercloak Estate 19) Truefoot Burrow 20) The Meadows Family Hill
The locals are hospitable and friendly enough, but they do not really trust outsiders. Folks from foreign places are good for trade, news, and little else. Those that come through are treated well enough as long as they don’t wear out their welcome. Locals, well, that’s a bit of a different story. The city and area doesn’t operate under a written caste system or social structure, but there is clearly a pecking order, and family heritage matters a great deal to folks in Hills Furrow. Most locals, whether they’ve gotten an education or not, can easily be classified as simple. It isn’t that they are slow of mind or unintelligent, but more that they are unconcerned with matters the outside world considers important. This sentiment has created a general, but friendly, dislike between those that consider themselves Highfalutin and those that clearly are not.
Well now that I've given you the fifty cent tour. Shall we get on to adventure?

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide

We will open our journeys in the Green Valley at Green Tide, the annual celebration of Winter’s End. This adventure is designed to give a tour of Hills Furrow and introduce them to the locals. It will begin with some chores around their house to prepare for the festival and end with a battle involving an enchanted broom. If you did not do Session Zero, this chapter may take a bit longer as we get to know everyone and their characters.

ACT 1: Pre-Festival

The locals spend the week cleaning out their houses and farms. They gather old junk and unused items to be used later in the festival. They also begin preparing what food is left from winter to be used in a celebration and feasts.
Things to do! - Have the Players clean up junk around the house - Have them Find something strange (Perhaps used for a later mystery?) - Have them Decorate their Broom - Have them run a Household Errand (Meet an NPC)

ACT 2: Sweeping Day

A merry festival celebrating Spring cleaning and putting the past behind them. They form a parade, with one member from each house carrying a brightly decorated broom and using it to symbolically “Sweep Away Winter”. The rest of the family marches their winter’s trash and unused goods down to the Fairgrounds. The goods are often traded, while the trash is piled in the fire pit to await burning later. The entire day is filled with fun outdoor activities. Households also symbolically bring their problems to the bonfires to burn them later.
Things to do! - March in the Parade - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals
EVENT: I Love a Parade
The parade will march North from near the Cross Roads in the South up around the hill and back again to the South where it will head for the Fairgrounds. There isn’t anything particularly challenging about this event, but it would be a wonderful place to start leaning into or building local rivalries.
EVENT: Never Seen a Broom Do That… As they come into the home stretch of the Parade one of the local’s Brooms will animate and take off. It will chase folks around the parade. The players can attempt to stop it, but the broom will flee soon after being attacked. It will fly up into the air, attack a flock of geese, and chase them off until it can’t be seen anymore. They can go and collect a fallen goose if they wish. I highly recommend giving it a motorcycle type sound as it flies around hitting folks. Maybe even going as far as giving it a rough gravel angry voice and letting it insult people.

ACT 3: Winter’s End

Winter’s End is a Combination of Groundhog’s Day and Fasnacht, this day gets a little wild. The Festival kicks off at dawn with the Great Gopher Hunt. Gophers are well known spies for The Voice of Winter and thus need to be hunted before they can tell The Voice to delay Spring. Gophers themselves are quite tasty, and are notoriously bad for crops, so this works out economically all around. Throughout the rest of the day families continue to contribute to the Bonfire Pile which often gets quite large. At dusk a large effigy of The Voice of Winter is placed on top of the pile. Once the sun has fully set they light the fire and burn the Effigy. Folk usually dress darkly during the day and brightly at night. After the burning they feast on sweets and treats that were made from goods saved up from winter storage.
Things to do! - The Great Gopher Hunt - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals - The Fairground’s Activities
EVENT: The Great Gopher Hunt The Hunt begins at dawn and takes place all over the Valley. Locals race to collect as many Gophers as possible. It is easiest to kill the Gopher, but there are some that find that distasteful. Instead they live trap the critters. It is a bit tougher to do so, but an option should your players wish. This is most easily played out as a series of appropriate Skill Checks, in which the higher they score the more gophers they obtain.
EVENT: Trash Removal They may find some locals willing to pay them to help cart junk down to the bonfire pile. Not a lot of skill involved in this, but it is a great opportunity to meet locals, and you could throw a runaway cart at them.
Fair Activities They will probably want to take part in Fairground Activities. Players love these types of challenges. Here are a few ideas you can build on. - Axe Throwin: Basic attack rolls on a Round Target. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Bow Shootin: Basic attack rolls on Moving Targets. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Pig Chasin: Catch the greased Pig! Medium DC Challenge requiring three success before three Failures. - Mud Wrastlin: Nothing says bumpkin like a good Mud Wrastlin Pit. Contested Skill Challenges. - Sausage Eating Contest: Increasingly difficult DC Challenge. Eat till you puke! Can also be Pies or Ribs or Little Fish… you know whatever someone wants to stuff dozens of in their gullet. - Tug O’War: Team Strength Challenge. Three to Five Contested Rolls with opposing teams. - Gopher BBQ Cook Off: A Hard Culinary Challenge to see who can BBQ the best Gopher! - Races: Foot and Mount Races based on Three to Five Contested Rolls. I usually include a few odd mounts like a Giant Chicken or some such nonsense.

ACT 4: Day of Ashes

The Day of Ashes is a day of rest, recovery, and reflection. Locals take the ashes from the bonfires and rub their hands in them to symbolize the end of a hard year’s work and hardships of the past. The day ends with a large family feast, typically Pork. Activities this day are light, but many folks head to the Temple for the Calling of Spring Blessings. They put on their fancies and head down to ask forgiveness for over-indulging in the festival and for worship. Well sort of…
Unfortunately, a lot of folks take this as an opportunity to peacock about and practice their one-upmanship over other locals. If you’re looking for inspiration for their outfits look to older photos of the Kentucky Derby. Over the years this troubling practice has caused more than one fight to break out after the service.
*Things to do! * - Go to Temple and Meet More Locals - Pick a Local Patron!
EVENT: Temple Services The majority of the town comes to Temple on this day. The service is usually longer, and a bit more “Where have most of you been all year?” But otherwise it is a call for the Divine Blessings to touch their crops and protect their lives. It ends with a ceremony in which the locals put their hands into the ashes from yesterday’s bonfire. Once services end they will head outside, where the trouble will begin. Two of the wealthier families will get into it with each other. Starting with a couple of veiled insults, probably before service and continuing afterward. If one of your players is from a local Rich Folk family then they can be right in the middle of it all, otherwise they will have to pick a side. This choice will determine their house Patron moving forward. Tension will increase until folks start drawing up sides, and then someone will throw a rotten tomato at one of the House Matrons. That will blow the lid off the incident and a yokel brawl will break out. For comedy purposes I recommend the instant appearance of several food carts filled with expired products, and maybe a six year old hustler selling big sticks for wacking folks with. As the locals brawl call for perception checks. Who ever rolls highest begins to hear… The Broom returning!
ENCOUNTER: Stick In The Eye The broom returns ready to whoop some ash. It will be absolutely bent on cleaning anyone and everyone who is even the slightest bit dirty! If it successfully attacks a character they will have to make a Strength Saving throw or be knocked to the ground and swept clean by the broom. As this would be an awful omen for the year folks are terrified and will be running around screaming. Absolute mass hysteria. If the players were lucky enough to hear it coming they can avoid being surprised by the broom. Otherwise the broom will get a full round to attack before they have a chance to do anything. They’ll have to beat the broom into submission any way they can before it sweeps the whole town into chaos!

CLOSING

After defeating the broom things will settle back down again. Bumpkins are quick to return to normal when things go awry. However, they will have gotten the attention of one of the Wealthy Families in the area and be offered jobs. Which family is really, based on what will work best for them and you as the DM. For gags you might be tempted to have the Yokels pick them up, but that is a hard bit to sustain, and you may be better served keeping them on the side as a comic foil rather than up front. Completely up to you. The session should end with them being invited to meet their new patron tomorrow someplace important.

CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens

After successfully defeating the Enchanted Broom, our Bumpkins have gained the attention of a possible local Patron. This individual has summoned them to a nearby farm to discuss future work. That work includes proving themselves capable and not just lucky.

ACT 1: Meet the Boss

In this Act the players will meet with their new patron, one of the Family Heads, who that is entirely depends on their choices from the last game. This entire side branch is designed to flavor the background of the campaign, but if you’d rather just have them stay freelancing and independent that’s fine as well. There is also the possibility of “competing” offers should they have second thoughts for any reason. Once they arrive at the meeting spot their Patron will ask them some questions about their ambitions (Class Goals), they will then hand them off to their new “boss” who will assign them their task. They will take them to a nearby barn.
NPC: “Boss” Needs a fitting name for the Family they work for... Character wise, what we got here is a standard “Ranch Foreman” character. They’re tough, A little mean, and completely loyal to their employer. They almost certainly chew tobacco (by the handful), have a tattoo of the Ranch’s Brand, and know where all the bodies are buried. They also have a huge and obvious scar on the side of their head where a Giant Chicken pecked a hole in their skull, so they’re not as bright as they used to be, not at all truthfully. Nor are they actually the Foreman anymore, but no one has a heart to tell them. They’ve been quietly downgraded to Chicken Handler, which is something they seem to remember quite well, but the brain damage keeps them from realizing all that. They can be found wandering the Farm giving strange orders to other Hands. These Hands nod politely and then go back to what they are doing.
Things To Do! - Meet Their Patron - Discuss Their Future - Meet Their New “Boss”

ACT 2: Chicken Dance

Boss will lead them into the odd looking barn. This building is filled with Giant Chickens. These two-three foot fouls have extremely exaggerated features, spiky looking beaks with sharp tooth like edges, big darting eyes, bumpy cracked skin, long gnarled talons, and dirty mottled feathers. They’re more beast than bird. But, they’re good for eatin! These creatures should have a stat block similar to an Axe Beak. When the players enter into the Barn the Chickens will go nuts, obviously deeply bothered by the intrusion. Boss will throw in some deer haunches and the birds will tear them apart in a feeding frenzy. They will then put on a Chicken Suit and begin a flapping dance. (Google Magnificent Riflebird) It should be absolutely captivating and the chickens will become mesmerized, watching every move. Boss will then load two dozen chickens onto a large wagon and lock it. They will have the players push the wagon out while he keeps the Chickens calm. Once outside they’ll hang heavy tarps on the sides of the wagon, and remove the suit. He will then explain to them that they need to keep the tarps on the wagon, and keep the birds well fed, or the chickens will get restless and become violent. When they do need to interact with them someone will have to wear the suit and dance to keep them calm. The bigger the person in the suit the better. Boss will then give them a Map of Green Valley and instruct them to drop off two chickens at each of the outer settlements. They have two days to get this done.
Things To Do! - Head into the barn - Witness The Dance of The Chicken - Push the Wagon out - Get the Costume and Delivery Instructions

ACT 3: Bumpy Roads

They will be off to deliver the Chickens to various locations. There is no specific order to this delivery, they just need to pick a route and go. If they’re short on time they can take the country roads that lead between the outer settlements, but these aren’t as well kept as the main roads are. Whatever road they take and wherever they decide to stop for the night there are problems they will encounter along the way. You can make them random or pick the ones that best suit your players. Most of these should at some point require someone putting on the suit and dancing for the chickens to keep them calm. I would also increase the difficulty of each event. If they fail a dance the Chickens will become restless and start attacking the cart until they are calmed down. Too many failures and the wagon’s cage will break and the remaining chickens escape. They will then have to be rounded up and the cage repaired.
Things to Do! - Decide the delivery route - Deliver the chickens - Keep the Chickens calm
Possible Road Events 1) Rough roads cause problems 2) Yokels attempt to see what’s in the cart 3) Bad Weather swamps the road or scares the chickens 4) Pack of Coyotes causes trouble. 5) Chicken Rustlers! Protect the Flock! 6) Wagon breaks and needs repair 7) Cows in the road, someone’s herd is out. 8) Broken Bridge, not gone, just broken

ACT 4: Final Delivery

They’re now closing in on the final delivery. Something needs to happen here to cause them to put the suit on. Or maybe they never took it off! I love that idea, that one of your players just loves the suit and wants to be a chicken… lol… Anyway I’m a fan of having them need to get out of the suit for some reason, maybe a bathroom break, or they stand on a fire ant hill, or a snake slithers up their leg. You know something silly and fun. BUT the zipper is stuck! So they’ll have to try and unstick it and fast! Whatever happens they’re going to get shot at by some hunters looking for a big score who have mistaken the flailing caused by the stuck zipper to be the chicken attacking. After dealing with the Hunters they can go ahead and make the final drop. And head home.
Things to Do! - Head for the final delivery - Get shot at! - Deliver the last chickens
ENCOUNTER: That’s a BIG Chicken! Having two hunters in the field is more than enough to cause a problem for the players. The hunters will almost certainly surprise the players, but you can allow them a perception check, if they succeed they’ll see the hunters just before the muskets go off. It would be OK to down the Chicken Player here if the hunters successfully hit it. They’ll have healer’s kits on hand because, well, this seems to happen to them a lot out here. After the initial attack the players can decide to attack back or try and talk the hunters down. A basic Bandit or Scout stat block should do will for the hunters. If you’re looking for a bit more mayhem, if the hunters miss the players you could have them hit the cage, and you know, bust it open. This may be especially tempting if they
POSSIBLE ENCOUNTER: Big Ol' Frog So there is a giant frog hiding in the mud down in the creek. If a player takes cover behind the banks there is a good chance that the frog will attempt to nab the player as a snack. If it is successful in grabbing a player with its tongue it will immediately head down river, and they'll have to chase it to get their friend back.

CLOSE

When they return, Boss will reward them. How much will depend on how successful they were delivering the birds. If they did a descent job, they will be paid two day’s wages each. If they were completely successful they can have a bonus. However, if the wagon is in bad shape they might have some money deducted. After they’re paid out, they will be dismissed, and told to expect a new assignment next week.

CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent

After successfully delivering chickens Boss is going to trust them with a more important task. Their employer has requested an item to be created by Marvin the Magnificent. This is a farming community so having enchanted Farming Equipment is extremely desirable. Marvin has done a lot of basic enchantments over the years, but this new one, an The Stone Skipper, a plough whose blade goes ethereal while in contact with stones too large to push away, has really put him to the test. He needs some help with the final enchantments. The players will have to travel to the Ethereal Plane and hit the Blade of the plow with large rocks. But there’s a problem, they’re going to have mischievous Ethereal Sprites attempting to stop them! If they’re successful, which they should be, they get to take the plough for a test drive, and deal with the strange side effects of the enchantment. Angry goats that blink in and out of existence.

ACT 1: To the Tower

They’ll be summoned out to the Ranch where they’ll meet with Boss again. Once there they will notice a large pile of bent and dinged up plows. Boss will explain to them that a recent land acquisition has become problematic. The Fields are filled with large stones just under the topsoil and they’ve damaged a lot of Plow Blades. The Smithing costs are getting out of hand and so their Patron is looking for an alternate solution to the problem. He is sending them to help Marvin the Magnificent, who has taken the job, but run into some complications and needs some help. They may ask about Marvin. Or perhaps the fields that were purchased, so be ready to answer these types of questions. Once they’re done here they can head to Marvin’s Tower, which is just north of town.
Things to Do! - Meet Boss again - Ask some Informational Questions - Head for the Tower
NPC: Marvin the Magnificent Marvin Boudenbaum, AKA Marvin the Magnificent, has lived in town a good number of years, he wasn’t born here but is considered local by most folk. He is a mage of some skill, having mastered spells up to level 3 spells, and is frequently hired by locals to use his magic for anything and everything that their bumpkin brains can cook up. Thing is… Marvin has extraordinary bad luck, so bad in fact that his spellwork has a tendency to go wrong. Typically, it doesn’t go wrong in a dangerous fashion, but there was that time little Timmy Proudfoot was flung into the Astral Sea. Marvin was about to be sentenced for Negligent Magic Murdering when Timmy was suddenly returned by Captain Jinny Steampipe of the Atomic Dustbin (An Astral Spell Ship). Timmy was ok and Jinny and crew spent a few weeks spending some money and telling everyone in town amazing stories of the Astral Sea, so all was forgiven. Marvin, has since taken to having anyone who hires him sign liability waivers, you know just in case. He lives in a small tower just outside of town to the North.

ACT 2: Marvin the Magnificent

As they approach the tower they should see an explosion at the peak of the structure. It should look similar to a fireworks mishap. When it clears there will be no visible damage to the tower, But Marvin will plummet to the earth just off to the side of them, landing in a small pond. He will then come charging out of the pond, laughing hysterically, and riding on a large turtle. Once he gets a few feet away from the pond the turtle will disappear and he will tumble to the ground right in front of the players. He will leap up quickly and turn toward the players. “Behold Travelers, You stand in the presence of Marvin the Magnificent! And everything you have witness was mostly intended!” He will then strike a cool pose with his wand pointed to the sky! “Now why do you approach my tower!?”
Once Marvin finds out they’ve been sent about the plow he will become more nervous looking. “I see, well follow me. We have work to do.” He will then start walking toward the tower… his boots squishing out water. This should give them a little time to ask a few questions. Marvin will be a little subversive about what they need to do. He will attempt to frame it very mysteriously, saying things like “All will be revealed soon.” and “Save your questions! All Answers await us… in the future!” If they ask him about what they witnessed outside, he will tell them he was working on a mount summoning spell designed for lakes and rivers.
Things to Do! - Head toward the Tower - Meet Marvin - Ask Questions

ACT 3: The Cabinet of Mysteries

The inside of the Wizard’s Tower will be far more mundane than they likely expect. At least on the first floor. It will have a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen, as well as a few odds and ends about. Nothing special at all. The second floor, are Marvin’s personal quarters and some room for study, but it is the third floor, where Marvin will lead them, and it will be more of what one would expect in a Wizard’s tower. There will be books shelves, arcane equipment, and storage for components. In the middle of the room will be a tall cabinet.
Marvin will explain to them that the Cabinet is a transportation device, and that he will need them to enter into it with a plow that he has recently enchanted. They will be taken to the Ethereal Plane, and once there they’ll need to take the plow outside and begin hitting it with large field stones. There is a large pile of stones just on the north edge of the tower. They’ll have to do this quickly, before the “others” show up. Who are the others? Hard to say, but there are things that live in the Ethereal Plane that don’t like intruders. The idea is to imbue the Plow with Ethereal Powers so it can pass through large stones while plowing fields. Once they return with the Enchanted Plow, Marvin will have them load it on a cart, pulled by a very smart Donkey, and send them on their way.
Skill Challenge: Enchant the Plow This skill challenge will require five successes before they’re incapacitated by the others. However they decide to do it, they’ll have to successfully hit the plow with five large stones. Failures will result in strange indiscernible entities attacking them. They do minimal damage but could knock people out if there are enough failures.
Things to Do! - Move Through Marvin’s Tower - Enter the Cabinet - Enchant the Plow

ACT 4: Blinking Goats

Upon returning to Boss with the Plow they will be happily greet and paid. Their Patron will be there and will be very pleased with their success. He will ask them to demonstrate the plow’s abilities. Once they get set up out in the field and begin plowing something weird will happen. Every time they hit a stone and the plow’s power activates an Ethereal Goat will manifest and kick or ram the plow, and then disappear. It will feel very similar to what they encountered in the Ethereal Plane. They’ll have to find a way to deal with the manifestations.
ENCOUNTER: Ethereal Goats These goats should function very similarly to Blink Dogs, but I would trim the HP and AC a little to put them in line with the party’s. They will be intent on breaking the Plow not the party, although they will attack the party if they can’t get to the Plow.
Things to Do! - Deliver the Plow - Drive the Plow - Defeat the Ethereal Goats

CLOSE

Once defeated the Boss will come over to yell at them, but the Patron will find the entire thing amusing and more importantly, another impressive demonstration of the player’s skills. He will invite them to the “House” for an important party next week.

CHAPTER 4: High Society

They've definitely been noticed now and have impressed with their ability, unconventional as it may be. They are invited to their patron's home, but not as guests. Though, they might think they were actually invited as guests! They have been brought in to help work the event held out at the Party Field. They will have to gather party supplies, help put up the tent, and then serve the actual guests. During the evening’s entertainment a hypnotist “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will mesmerize the crowd and attempt to rob them all. Hopefully the players don’t fall victim to her schemes. And if they do oh well, they’ll be entertained all the same.

ACT 1: Special Delivery

The players arrive at the Patron’s very nice property. They will be greeted by a properly dressed servant with a clipboard, the Party Planner. The Planner will be rigid and direct. They will immediately begin tasking them about. If they mention that they were invited to the party the servant will laugh “You didn’t think you were a guest? Oh dear, how embarrassing. You’re the help! It is still a great honor to be tasked to help at the Party, but you’re not guests. Now as for your current task. Head into town and gather these supplies. Bring them to the field by noon.” After the instructions are given the servant will go back to their tasks and expect the players to do the same. They will have three stops; The Crocked Crow for Food and Beer, Get Nailed for the Tent and Spirits, and Shalana Proud-Breed’s Tailor Shop to pick up the Dry Cleaning. Feel free to make any and all of these go sideways! Its a good place to toss in some shenanigans as well! They should also be introduced to Dr Hypnotika and her associates.
Things To do! - Go to their Patron’s Home - Meet the Party Planner and Dr Hypnotika - Run their Errands
NPC: Dr Hypnotika Dr Hypnotika and her group will perform for the party. Hypnotica is a Tiefling Mezmerist and illusionist. She has an obnoxiously high charisma and some pretty serious skills to back up her claims. However, she uses those skills to beguile her guests, robbing them blind while they are under her spells. She wears a fine robe with a bedazzled headwrap. She has dark upward spiraling horns, light purple skin, and matching eyes. She wears a monocle and walks with a ceremonially carved staff depicting the "Struggles of the Universe". She is extremely persuasive and even more deceptive. Even if someone were to grow suspicious she can easily talk her way out of trouble.
NPCs: Clapper and Bob Hypnotika brings with her two assistants. Clapper the suit wearing Kenku who will perform wondrous displays of mimicry and slight of hand, and her strongman Bob the Kobold. Bob wears a leopard print strongman's outfit and is amazingly swole, particularly for a kobold, and capable of lifting upwards of 400lbs. Bob doesn't do much else other than get hit with things. in the act.

ACT 2: Put up the Tent

After they finish running their errands they will be tasked with putting up a large party tent. This Act is an ongoing Skill Challenge and should have a constantly distracted feel to it. First they have to unpack the tent. Then they have to realize some pieces are missing, they’ll have to form a solution to that problem. After that wind should cause some problems as the tent is at least being pulled up. This is a great moment for some wondrous tom-foolery.
Things To do! - Unpack the tent - Deal with missing parts - Secure the tent during the wind gusts

ACT 3: Put These On

After they finish putting up the tent they’ll be sent to the Servant’s Quarters to bathe and change. They’ll get a little time to explore and snoop if they wish. Afterward they’ll be tasked with helping in the kitchen, but unfortunately the cooks are going to have been playing a drinking game all afternoon and are no longer fully capable of doing their jobs. This would make a great moment for some sort of mini-game where the players have to determine whether or not the cooks are doing the right things. Once the dinner has been completed they will have to serve the guests. This is a good place to insert gossip and help them meet a few other folks.
Things To do! - Get changed for the party - Deal with the drunk cooks - Serve the guests drinks and food

ACT 4: An Evening to Remember

At some point in the evening things are going to start sliding downhill. Some of the locals will have become extremely inebriated and will need to be encouraged to leave, or just moved off to the side as they’ve already passed out, before the show begins. Once the show begins the locals will become fixated on the goings on. “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will have put an additive in the drinks for the that will make everyone more susceptible to her powers of persuasion. Once the show starts she will have them all doing silly things, those who drank have disadvantage on saves against her powers. She will end the show asking the guests to display their most valuable treasure, a with a hypnotic pattern and then send her assistants out to collect those treasures. The players will have to “do something” about the thieves.
Things To do! - Deal with Drunks - Watch the Show - Stop the Criminals
ENCOUNTER: Hypnotika's Gang This encounter doesn't have to be a fight. If Hypnotika is caught she may claim it was all part of the act and simple return the valuables with a "no harm, no foul" type attitude. This will be he go to in an attempt to avoid a fight, but if the character persist in some kind of retribution or punishment the situation will devolve into a combat. Hypnotica herself is an Illusionist Wizard but is low on spells after the show. Clapper is a low level rogue and Bob a Barbarian, and should play out as such. Even with Skills they are combat adverse and will be looking for an opportunity to flee rather than fight. They do have a getaway wagon out front that they'll be headed for if things go south.

CLOSE

We’re assuming the Bumpkins at least attempted to stop the robbery. This will draw a lot of attention to them. Their Patron will be well pleased with them, and let them know they will be getting much more important jobs in the future. The guests will also take note and will begin treating them all a bit better. They’re all essentially Folk Heroes at this point for secondary backgrounds. Their Patron should reward them with something very nice as the party kicks back in. They will need to finish out the nights work of course.

QUEST-LINE CLOSING

Congratulations! Your Players have completed their first Quest-line! Hopefully it was a delightful experience. But now that they've finished what comes next? Well, here are some ideas.
Reward Them! They've been doing some rather Adventurous things lately, and therefore should now have a Class Level under their belt, so the real D&D world now opens to them! Maybe it is time for some real adventuring gear. No more sticks, stones, and burlap sack armor.
Folk Heroes? There's a good chance that the Valley is Speaking the News about them and their exploits while drinking in the taverns. They may have even earned the actual Folk Hero Feat! Maybe someone would be interested in giving them a task!
Simply Go Exploring! There are a lot of places in Green Valley that we only dipped our toes into. You could have them head down to Stinkmarsh, or maybe climb up the cliffs of Longridge. The world (Well, the Valley) is wholly open to them.
Explore Local Legends There are lots of local legends they can look into! Hopefully they search out something that isn't too far over their heads!
Continue Working for their Patron It would be an easy DM go to simply to have them continue working for their current Patron. They've probably been impressive enough for a family to be interested in keeping them on.
Establish Themselves as Adventurers! Maybe they want to set up a Adventurers for Hire business? This "Heroes Guild" approach is really appealing to a lot of players and absolutely plays into Bumpkin Quest. Just remember, this is a place of low key problems that locals make really big deals out of. So the idea of slaying dragons shouldn't really be on the table... that is until an actual dragon shows up! Which one day absolutely should.

Welcome to Green Valley

Four Merry Jaunts Through the Bumpkin Quest Campaign

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide Spring Cleaning time! This includes a parade, a festival, and a temple ceremony. These events are haunted by and angry goose hating enchanted broom.
CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens Folks need to eat. And round here they like to eat massive angry chickens. Somebody's gotta deliver them, and that somebody is your players!
CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent Simple problems require convoluted solutions. Help Marvin enchant a plow that can pass through stones. What could go wrong?
CHAPTER 4: High Society After earning some respect the players get invited to a high falutin social dilly do. But not as guests. As the help. And this party is gonna need it! The entertainment is about to become a mesmerizing problem.
ADVENTURE MECHANICS - Target Character Level: Commoners or Level 1 - Target Party Size: Four Players - Average Adventure Playtime: 2ish Hours - Tone: Rural Mayhem and Foolishness
Grab the Free PDF Here. https://www.patreon.com/posts/adventure-to-83830560
I’ve also put these adventures into our *Bumpkin Quest: Campaign Guide https://www.patreon.com/posts/guide-bumpkin-to-80202231 The guide fills in the details of Green Valley pretty thoroughly. The quests are simple enough to be run in any setting you choose, but if you're interested in more the Guide has about two dozen Custom Maps, 70+ NPCs, Location Descriptions, 20+ Local Legends, and Scores of Adventure and Event Ideas. You can grab the PDF Free at the link above.

Hills Furrow

At the center of the Valley sits a patch of small grassy hills, through which the Slow Water meanders through. Built into these hills is the Village of Hills Furrow. Celebrated by everyone living in The Valley and boasting a whopping population of almost 150, Hills Furrow is the center of commerce and social importance. Well, at least as far as the locals are concerned. Realistically it would be less than a blip on the grand scale of things, a mere kernel of wheat in the silo of civilization, but to those who live here, there is nothing quite like living in the “city”.
The Village itself, like the Valley, is predominantly Halfling, and their fancy dwellings are burrowed into the hillsides as often as possible. These dwellings have been family owned for generations only becomeing available if there are no heirs to pass them along to. Other folk live in well kept two story shingled buildings, most of which house a business on the lower floor and house the Shopkeepers and their families above their workplaces, though a few live in nearby homes. There aren’t many “rental” spaces in town, as property is usually bought up quickly by the Halfling Families, but there are long term options at either of the Inns in town.
Hills Furrow: Locations 1) The Crocked Crow (Inn and Tavern) 2) The Dancing Lamb (Inn and Tavern) 3) The Moaning Toad (Tavern) 4) Granny's Groceries (General Market) 5) Get Nailed (Hardware and Distilery) 6) Gimdurh's Hammer (Smithy) 7) Brenra's Mechanicals (Tinker) 8) Hjoldren's Home Goods (Carpenter) 9) Standard Industries (Office) 10) Fit to be Dyed (Tailor) 11) The Last Loaf (Baker) 12) The Cloudy Cleaver (Butcher) 13) Nature's Medecine (Apothecary) 14) Sheriff's Office 15) Green Valley School House 16) The Waterwheel 17) The Windmill 18) The Undercloak Estate 19) Truefoot Burrow 20) The Meadows Family Hill
The locals are hospitable and friendly enough, but they do not really trust outsiders. Folks from foreign places are good for trade, news, and little else. Those that come through are treated well enough as long as they don’t wear out their welcome. Locals, well, that’s a bit of a different story. The city and area doesn’t operate under a written caste system or social structure, but there is clearly a pecking order, and family heritage matters a great deal to folks in Hills Furrow. Most locals, whether they’ve gotten an education or not, can easily be classified as simple. It isn’t that they are slow of mind or unintelligent, but more that they are unconcerned with matters the outside world considers important. This sentiment has created a general, but friendly, dislike between those that consider themselves Highfalutin and those that clearly are not.
Well now that I've given you the fifty cent tour. Shall we get on to adventure?

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide

We will open our journeys in the Green Valley at Green Tide, the annual celebration of Winter’s End. This adventure is designed to give a tour of Hills Furrow and introduce them to the locals. It will begin with some chores around their house to prepare for the festival and end with a battle involving an enchanted broom. If you did not do Session Zero, this chapter may take a bit longer as we get to know everyone and their characters.

ACT 1: Pre-Festival

The locals spend the week cleaning out their houses and farms. They gather old junk and unused items to be used later in the festival. They also begin preparing what food is left from winter to be used in a celebration and feasts.
Things to do! - Have the Players clean up junk around the house - Have them Find something strange (Perhaps used for a later mystery?) - Have them Decorate their Broom - Have them run a Household Errand (Meet an NPC)

ACT 2: Sweeping Day

A merry festival celebrating Spring cleaning and putting the past behind them. They form a parade, with one member from each house carrying a brightly decorated broom and using it to symbolically “Sweep Away Winter”. The rest of the family marches their winter’s trash and unused goods down to the Fairgrounds. The goods are often traded, while the trash is piled in the fire pit to await burning later. The entire day is filled with fun outdoor activities. Households also symbolically bring their problems to the bonfires to burn them later.
Things to do! - March in the Parade - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals
EVENT: I Love a Parade
The parade will march North from near the Cross Roads in the South up around the hill and back again to the South where it will head for the Fairgrounds. There isn’t anything particularly challenging about this event, but it would be a wonderful place to start leaning into or building local rivalries.
EVENT: Never Seen a Broom Do That… As they come into the home stretch of the Parade one of the local’s Brooms will animate and take off. It will chase folks around the parade. The players can attempt to stop it, but the broom will flee soon after being attacked. It will fly up into the air, attack a flock of geese, and chase them off until it can’t be seen anymore. They can go and collect a fallen goose if they wish. I highly recommend giving it a motorcycle type sound as it flies around hitting folks. Maybe even going as far as giving it a rough gravel angry voice and letting it insult people.

ACT 3: Winter’s End

Winter’s End is a Combination of Groundhog’s Day and Fasnacht, this day gets a little wild. The Festival kicks off at dawn with the Great Gopher Hunt. Gophers are well known spies for The Voice of Winter and thus need to be hunted before they can tell The Voice to delay Spring. Gophers themselves are quite tasty, and are notoriously bad for crops, so this works out economically all around. Throughout the rest of the day families continue to contribute to the Bonfire Pile which often gets quite large. At dusk a large effigy of The Voice of Winter is placed on top of the pile. Once the sun has fully set they light the fire and burn the Effigy. Folk usually dress darkly during the day and brightly at night. After the burning they feast on sweets and treats that were made from goods saved up from winter storage.
Things to do! - The Great Gopher Hunt - Carry Junk to the Bonfire - Meet more of the Locals - The Fairground’s Activities
EVENT: The Great Gopher Hunt The Hunt begins at dawn and takes place all over the Valley. Locals race to collect as many Gophers as possible. It is easiest to kill the Gopher, but there are some that find that distasteful. Instead they live trap the critters. It is a bit tougher to do so, but an option should your players wish. This is most easily played out as a series of appropriate Skill Checks, in which the higher they score the more gophers they obtain.
EVENT: Trash Removal They may find some locals willing to pay them to help cart junk down to the bonfire pile. Not a lot of skill involved in this, but it is a great opportunity to meet locals, and you could throw a runaway cart at them.
Fair Activities They will probably want to take part in Fairground Activities. Players love these types of challenges. Here are a few ideas you can build on. - Axe Throwin: Basic attack rolls on a Round Target. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Bow Shootin: Basic attack rolls on Moving Targets. Higher scores equal Higher points. - Pig Chasin: Catch the greased Pig! Medium DC Challenge requiring three success before three Failures. - Mud Wrastlin: Nothing says bumpkin like a good Mud Wrastlin Pit. Contested Skill Challenges. - Sausage Eating Contest: Increasingly difficult DC Challenge. Eat till you puke! Can also be Pies or Ribs or Little Fish… you know whatever someone wants to stuff dozens of in their gullet. - Tug O’War: Team Strength Challenge. Three to Five Contested Rolls with opposing teams. - Gopher BBQ Cook Off: A Hard Culinary Challenge to see who can BBQ the best Gopher! - Races: Foot and Mount Races based on Three to Five Contested Rolls. I usually include a few odd mounts like a Giant Chicken or some such nonsense.

ACT 4: Day of Ashes

The Day of Ashes is a day of rest, recovery, and reflection. Locals take the ashes from the bonfires and rub their hands in them to symbolize the end of a hard year’s work and hardships of the past. The day ends with a large family feast, typically Pork. Activities this day are light, but many folks head to the Temple for the Calling of Spring Blessings. They put on their fancies and head down to ask forgiveness for over-indulging in the festival and for worship. Well sort of…
Unfortunately, a lot of folks take this as an opportunity to peacock about and practice their one-upmanship over other locals. If you’re looking for inspiration for their outfits look to older photos of the Kentucky Derby. Over the years this troubling practice has caused more than one fight to break out after the service.
*Things to do! * - Go to Temple and Meet More Locals - Pick a Local Patron!
EVENT: Temple Services The majority of the town comes to Temple on this day. The service is usually longer, and a bit more “Where have most of you been all year?” But otherwise it is a call for the Divine Blessings to touch their crops and protect their lives. It ends with a ceremony in which the locals put their hands into the ashes from yesterday’s bonfire. Once services end they will head outside, where the trouble will begin. Two of the wealthier families will get into it with each other. Starting with a couple of veiled insults, probably before service and continuing afterward. If one of your players is from a local Rich Folk family then they can be right in the middle of it all, otherwise they will have to pick a side. This choice will determine their house Patron moving forward. Tension will increase until folks start drawing up sides, and then someone will throw a rotten tomato at one of the House Matrons. That will blow the lid off the incident and a yokel brawl will break out. For comedy purposes I recommend the instant appearance of several food carts filled with expired products, and maybe a six year old hustler selling big sticks for wacking folks with. As the locals brawl call for perception checks. Who ever rolls highest begins to hear… The Broom returning!
ENCOUNTER: Stick In The Eye The broom returns ready to whoop some ash. It will be absolutely bent on cleaning anyone and everyone who is even the slightest bit dirty! If it successfully attacks a character they will have to make a Strength Saving throw or be knocked to the ground and swept clean by the broom. As this would be an awful omen for the year folks are terrified and will be running around screaming. Absolute mass hysteria. If the players were lucky enough to hear it coming they can avoid being surprised by the broom. Otherwise the broom will get a full round to attack before they have a chance to do anything. They’ll have to beat the broom into submission any way they can before it sweeps the whole town into chaos!

CLOSING

After defeating the broom things will settle back down again. Bumpkins are quick to return to normal when things go awry. However, they will have gotten the attention of one of the Wealthy Families in the area and be offered jobs. Which family is really, based on what will work best for them and you as the DM. For gags you might be tempted to have the Yokels pick them up, but that is a hard bit to sustain, and you may be better served keeping them on the side as a comic foil rather than up front. Completely up to you. The session should end with them being invited to meet their new patron tomorrow someplace important.

CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens

After successfully defeating the Enchanted Broom, our Bumpkins have gained the attention of a possible local Patron. This individual has summoned them to a nearby farm to discuss future work. That work includes proving themselves capable and not just lucky.

ACT 1: Meet the Boss

In this Act the players will meet with their new patron, one of the Family Heads, who that is entirely depends on their choices from the last game. This entire side branch is designed to flavor the background of the campaign, but if you’d rather just have them stay freelancing and independent that’s fine as well. There is also the possibility of “competing” offers should they have second thoughts for any reason. Once they arrive at the meeting spot their Patron will ask them some questions about their ambitions (Class Goals), they will then hand them off to their new “boss” who will assign them their task. They will take them to a nearby barn.
NPC: “Boss” Needs a fitting name for the Family they work for... Character wise, what we got here is a standard “Ranch Foreman” character. They’re tough, A little mean, and completely loyal to their employer. They almost certainly chew tobacco (by the handful), have a tattoo of the Ranch’s Brand, and know where all the bodies are buried. They also have a huge and obvious scar on the side of their head where a Giant Chicken pecked a hole in their skull, so they’re not as bright as they used to be, not at all truthfully. Nor are they actually the Foreman anymore, but no one has a heart to tell them. They’ve been quietly downgraded to Chicken Handler, which is something they seem to remember quite well, but the brain damage keeps them from realizing all that. They can be found wandering the Farm giving strange orders to other Hands. These Hands nod politely and then go back to what they are doing.
Things To Do! - Meet Their Patron - Discuss Their Future - Meet Their New “Boss”

ACT 2: Chicken Dance

Boss will lead them into the odd looking barn. This building is filled with Giant Chickens. These two-three foot fouls have extremely exaggerated features, spiky looking beaks with sharp tooth like edges, big darting eyes, bumpy cracked skin, long gnarled talons, and dirty mottled feathers. They’re more beast than bird. But, they’re good for eatin! These creatures should have a stat block similar to an Axe Beak. When the players enter into the Barn the Chickens will go nuts, obviously deeply bothered by the intrusion. Boss will throw in some deer haunches and the birds will tear them apart in a feeding frenzy. They will then put on a Chicken Suit and begin a flapping dance. (Google Magnificent Riflebird) It should be absolutely captivating and the chickens will become mesmerized, watching every move. Boss will then load two dozen chickens onto a large wagon and lock it. They will have the players push the wagon out while he keeps the Chickens calm. Once outside they’ll hang heavy tarps on the sides of the wagon, and remove the suit. He will then explain to them that they need to keep the tarps on the wagon, and keep the birds well fed, or the chickens will get restless and become violent. When they do need to interact with them someone will have to wear the suit and dance to keep them calm. The bigger the person in the suit the better. Boss will then give them a Map of Green Valley and instruct them to drop off two chickens at each of the outer settlements. They have two days to get this done.
Things To Do! - Head into the barn - Witness The Dance of The Chicken - Push the Wagon out - Get the Costume and Delivery Instructions

ACT 3: Bumpy Roads

They will be off to deliver the Chickens to various locations. There is no specific order to this delivery, they just need to pick a route and go. If they’re short on time they can take the country roads that lead between the outer settlements, but these aren’t as well kept as the main roads are. Whatever road they take and wherever they decide to stop for the night there are problems they will encounter along the way. You can make them random or pick the ones that best suit your players. Most of these should at some point require someone putting on the suit and dancing for the chickens to keep them calm. I would also increase the difficulty of each event. If they fail a dance the Chickens will become restless and start attacking the cart until they are calmed down. Too many failures and the wagon’s cage will break and the remaining chickens escape. They will then have to be rounded up and the cage repaired.
Things to Do! - Decide the delivery route - Deliver the chickens - Keep the Chickens calm
Possible Road Events 1) Rough roads cause problems 2) Yokels attempt to see what’s in the cart 3) Bad Weather swamps the road or scares the chickens 4) Pack of Coyotes causes trouble. 5) Chicken Rustlers! Protect the Flock! 6) Wagon breaks and needs repair 7) Cows in the road, someone’s herd is out. 8) Broken Bridge, not gone, just broken

ACT 4: Final Delivery

They’re now closing in on the final delivery. Something needs to happen here to cause them to put the suit on. Or maybe they never took it off! I love that idea, that one of your players just loves the suit and wants to be a chicken… lol… Anyway I’m a fan of having them need to get out of the suit for some reason, maybe a bathroom break, or they stand on a fire ant hill, or a snake slithers up their leg. You know something silly and fun. BUT the zipper is stuck! So they’ll have to try and unstick it and fast! Whatever happens they’re going to get shot at by some hunters looking for a big score who have mistaken the flailing caused by the stuck zipper to be the chicken attacking. After dealing with the Hunters they can go ahead and make the final drop. And head home.
Things to Do! - Head for the final delivery - Get shot at! - Deliver the last chickens
ENCOUNTER: That’s a BIG Chicken! Having two hunters in the field is more than enough to cause a problem for the players. The hunters will almost certainly surprise the players, but you can allow them a perception check, if they succeed they’ll see the hunters just before the muskets go off. It would be OK to down the Chicken Player here if the hunters successfully hit it. They’ll have healer’s kits on hand because, well, this seems to happen to them a lot out here. After the initial attack the players can decide to attack back or try and talk the hunters down. A basic Bandit or Scout stat block should do will for the hunters. If you’re looking for a bit more mayhem, if the hunters miss the players you could have them hit the cage, and you know, bust it open. This may be especially tempting if they
POSSIBLE ENCOUNTER: Big Ol' Frog So there is a giant frog hiding in the mud down in the creek. If a player takes cover behind the banks there is a good chance that the frog will attempt to nab the player as a snack. If it is successful in grabbing a player with its tongue it will immediately head down river, and they'll have to chase it to get their friend back.

CLOSE

When they return, Boss will reward them. How much will depend on how successful they were delivering the birds. If they did a descent job, they will be paid two day’s wages each. If they were completely successful they can have a bonus. However, if the wagon is in bad shape they might have some money deducted. After they’re paid out, they will be dismissed, and told to expect a new assignment next week.

CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent

After successfully delivering chickens Boss is going to trust them with a more important task. Their employer has requested an item to be created by Marvin the Magnificent. This is a farming community so having enchanted Farming Equipment is extremely desirable. Marvin has done a lot of basic enchantments over the years, but this new one, an The Stone Skipper, a plough whose blade goes ethereal while in contact with stones too large to push away, has really put him to the test. He needs some help with the final enchantments. The players will have to travel to the Ethereal Plane and hit the Blade of the plow with large rocks. But there’s a problem, they’re going to have mischievous Ethereal Sprites attempting to stop them! If they’re successful, which they should be, they get to take the plough for a test drive, and deal with the strange side effects of the enchantment. Angry goats that blink in and out of existence.

ACT 1: To the Tower

They’ll be summoned out to the Ranch where they’ll meet with Boss again. Once there they will notice a large pile of bent and dinged up plows. Boss will explain to them that a recent land acquisition has become problematic. The Fields are filled with large stones just under the topsoil and they’ve damaged a lot of Plow Blades. The Smithing costs are getting out of hand and so their Patron is looking for an alternate solution to the problem. He is sending them to help Marvin the Magnificent, who has taken the job, but run into some complications and needs some help. They may ask about Marvin. Or perhaps the fields that were purchased, so be ready to answer these types of questions. Once they’re done here they can head to Marvin’s Tower, which is just north of town.
Things to Do! - Meet Boss again - Ask some Informational Questions - Head for the Tower
NPC: Marvin the Magnificent Marvin Boudenbaum, AKA Marvin the Magnificent, has lived in town a good number of years, he wasn’t born here but is considered local by most folk. He is a mage of some skill, having mastered spells up to level 3 spells, and is frequently hired by locals to use his magic for anything and everything that their bumpkin brains can cook up. Thing is… Marvin has extraordinary bad luck, so bad in fact that his spellwork has a tendency to go wrong. Typically, it doesn’t go wrong in a dangerous fashion, but there was that time little Timmy Proudfoot was flung into the Astral Sea. Marvin was about to be sentenced for Negligent Magic Murdering when Timmy was suddenly returned by Captain Jinny Steampipe of the Atomic Dustbin (An Astral Spell Ship). Timmy was ok and Jinny and crew spent a few weeks spending some money and telling everyone in town amazing stories of the Astral Sea, so all was forgiven. Marvin, has since taken to having anyone who hires him sign liability waivers, you know just in case. He lives in a small tower just outside of town to the North.

ACT 2: Marvin the Magnificent

As they approach the tower they should see an explosion at the peak of the structure. It should look similar to a fireworks mishap. When it clears there will be no visible damage to the tower, But Marvin will plummet to the earth just off to the side of them, landing in a small pond. He will then come charging out of the pond, laughing hysterically, and riding on a large turtle. Once he gets a few feet away from the pond the turtle will disappear and he will tumble to the ground right in front of the players. He will leap up quickly and turn toward the players. “Behold Travelers, You stand in the presence of Marvin the Magnificent! And everything you have witness was mostly intended!” He will then strike a cool pose with his wand pointed to the sky! “Now why do you approach my tower!?”
Once Marvin finds out they’ve been sent about the plow he will become more nervous looking. “I see, well follow me. We have work to do.” He will then start walking toward the tower… his boots squishing out water. This should give them a little time to ask a few questions. Marvin will be a little subversive about what they need to do. He will attempt to frame it very mysteriously, saying things like “All will be revealed soon.” and “Save your questions! All Answers await us… in the future!” If they ask him about what they witnessed outside, he will tell them he was working on a mount summoning spell designed for lakes and rivers.
Things to Do! - Head toward the Tower - Meet Marvin - Ask Questions

ACT 3: The Cabinet of Mysteries

The inside of the Wizard’s Tower will be far more mundane than they likely expect. At least on the first floor. It will have a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen, as well as a few odds and ends about. Nothing special at all. The second floor, are Marvin’s personal quarters and some room for study, but it is the third floor, where Marvin will lead them, and it will be more of what one would expect in a Wizard’s tower. There will be books shelves, arcane equipment, and storage for components. In the middle of the room will be a tall cabinet.
Marvin will explain to them that the Cabinet is a transportation device, and that he will need them to enter into it with a plow that he has recently enchanted. They will be taken to the Ethereal Plane, and once there they’ll need to take the plow outside and begin hitting it with large field stones. There is a large pile of stones just on the north edge of the tower. They’ll have to do this quickly, before the “others” show up. Who are the others? Hard to say, but there are things that live in the Ethereal Plane that don’t like intruders. The idea is to imbue the Plow with Ethereal Powers so it can pass through large stones while plowing fields. Once they return with the Enchanted Plow, Marvin will have them load it on a cart, pulled by a very smart Donkey, and send them on their way.
Skill Challenge: Enchant the Plow This skill challenge will require five successes before they’re incapacitated by the others. However they decide to do it, they’ll have to successfully hit the plow with five large stones. Failures will result in strange indiscernible entities attacking them. They do minimal damage but could knock people out if there are enough failures.
Things to Do! - Move Through Marvin’s Tower - Enter the Cabinet - Enchant the Plow

ACT 4: Blinking Goats

Upon returning to Boss with the Plow they will be happily greet and paid. Their Patron will be there and will be very pleased with their success. He will ask them to demonstrate the plow’s abilities. Once they get set up out in the field and begin plowing something weird will happen. Every time they hit a stone and the plow’s power activates an Ethereal Goat will manifest and kick or ram the plow, and then disappear. It will feel very similar to what they encountered in the Ethereal Plane. They’ll have to find a way to deal with the manifestations.
ENCOUNTER: Ethereal Goats These goats should function very similarly to Blink Dogs, but I would trim the HP and AC a little to put them in line with the party’s. They will be intent on breaking the Plow not the party, although they will attack the party if they can’t get to the Plow.
Things to Do! - Deliver the Plow - Drive the Plow - Defeat the Ethereal Goats

CLOSE

Once defeated the Boss will come over to yell at them, but the Patron will find the entire thing amusing and more importantly, another impressive demonstration of the player’s skills. He will invite them to the “House” for an important party next week.

CHAPTER 4: High Society

They've definitely been noticed now and have impressed with their ability, unconventional as it may be. They are invited to their patron's home, but not as guests. Though, they might think they were actually invited as guests! They have been brought in to help work the event held out at the Party Field. They will have to gather party supplies, help put up the tent, and then serve the actual guests. During the evening’s entertainment a hypnotist “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will mesmerize the crowd and attempt to rob them all. Hopefully the players don’t fall victim to her schemes. And if they do oh well, they’ll be entertained all the same.

ACT 1: Special Delivery

The players arrive at the Patron’s very nice property. They will be greeted by a properly dressed servant with a clipboard, the Party Planner. The Planner will be rigid and direct. They will immediately begin tasking them about. If they mention that they were invited to the party the servant will laugh “You didn’t think you were a guest? Oh dear, how embarrassing. You’re the help! It is still a great honor to be tasked to help at the Party, but you’re not guests. Now as for your current task. Head into town and gather these supplies. Bring them to the field by noon.” After the instructions are given the servant will go back to their tasks and expect the players to do the same. They will have three stops; The Crocked Crow for Food and Beer, Get Nailed for the Tent and Spirits, and Shalana Proud-Breed’s Tailor Shop to pick up the Dry Cleaning. Feel free to make any and all of these go sideways! Its a good place to toss in some shenanigans as well! They should also be introduced to Dr Hypnotika and her associates.
Things To do! - Go to their Patron’s Home - Meet the Party Planner and Dr Hypnotika - Run their Errands
NPC: Dr Hypnotika Dr Hypnotika and her group will perform for the party. Hypnotica is a Tiefling Mezmerist and illusionist. She has an obnoxiously high charisma and some pretty serious skills to back up her claims. However, she uses those skills to beguile her guests, robbing them blind while they are under her spells. She wears a fine robe with a bedazzled headwrap. She has dark upward spiraling horns, light purple skin, and matching eyes. She wears a monocle and walks with a ceremonially carved staff depicting the "Struggles of the Universe". She is extremely persuasive and even more deceptive. Even if someone were to grow suspicious she can easily talk her way out of trouble.
NPCs: Clapper and Bob Hypnotika brings with her two assistants. Clapper the suit wearing Kenku who will perform wondrous displays of mimicry and slight of hand, and her strongman Bob the Kobold. Bob wears a leopard print strongman's outfit and is amazingly swole, particularly for a kobold, and capable of lifting upwards of 400lbs. Bob doesn't do much else other than get hit with things. in the act.

ACT 2: Put up the Tent

After they finish running their errands they will be tasked with putting up a large party tent. This Act is an ongoing Skill Challenge and should have a constantly distracted feel to it. First they have to unpack the tent. Then they have to realize some pieces are missing, they’ll have to form a solution to that problem. After that wind should cause some problems as the tent is at least being pulled up. This is a great moment for some wondrous tom-foolery.
Things To do! - Unpack the tent - Deal with missing parts - Secure the tent during the wind gusts

ACT 3: Put These On

After they finish putting up the tent they’ll be sent to the Servant’s Quarters to bathe and change. They’ll get a little time to explore and snoop if they wish. Afterward they’ll be tasked with helping in the kitchen, but unfortunately the cooks are going to have been playing a drinking game all afternoon and are no longer fully capable of doing their jobs. This would make a great moment for some sort of mini-game where the players have to determine whether or not the cooks are doing the right things. Once the dinner has been completed they will have to serve the guests. This is a good place to insert gossip and help them meet a few other folks.
Things To do! - Get changed for the party - Deal with the drunk cooks - Serve the guests drinks and food

ACT 4: An Evening to Remember

At some point in the evening things are going to start sliding downhill. Some of the locals will have become extremely inebriated and will need to be encouraged to leave, or just moved off to the side as they’ve already passed out, before the show begins. Once the show begins the locals will become fixated on the goings on. “The Great Dr Hypnotika” will have put an additive in the drinks for the that will make everyone more susceptible to her powers of persuasion. Once the show starts she will have them all doing silly things, those who drank have disadvantage on saves against her powers. She will end the show asking the guests to display their most valuable treasure, a with a hypnotic pattern and then send her assistants out to collect those treasures. The players will have to “do something” about the thieves.
Things To do! - Deal with Drunks - Watch the Show - Stop the Criminals
ENCOUNTER: Hypnotika's Gang This encounter doesn't have to be a fight. If Hypnotika is caught she may claim it was all part of the act and simple return the valuables with a "no harm, no foul" type attitude. This will be he go to in an attempt to avoid a fight, but if the character persist in some kind of retribution or punishment the situation will devolve into a combat. Hypnotica herself is an Illusionist Wizard but is low on spells after the show. Clapper is a low level rogue and Bob a Barbarian, and should play out as such. Even with Skills they are combat adverse and will be looking for an opportunity to flee rather than fight. They do have a getaway wagon out front that they'll be headed for if things go south.

CLOSE

We’re assuming the Bumpkins at least attempted to stop the robbery. This will draw a lot of attention to them. Their Patron will be well pleased with them, and let them know they will be getting much more important jobs in the future. The guests will also take note and will begin treating them all a bit better. They’re all essentially Folk Heroes at this point for secondary backgrounds. Their Patron should reward them with something very nice as the party kicks back in. They will need to finish out the nights work of course.

QUEST-LINE CLOSING

Congratulations! Your Players have completed their first Quest-line! Hopefully it was a delightful experience. But now that they've finished what comes next? Well, here are some ideas.
Reward Them! They've been doing some rather Adventurous things lately, and therefore should now have a Class Level under their belt, so the real D&D world now opens to them! Maybe it is time for some real adventuring gear. No more sticks, stones, and burlap sack armor.
Folk Heroes? There's a good chance that the Valley is Speaking the News about them and their exploits while drinking in the taverns. They may have even earned the actual Folk Hero Feat! Maybe someone would be interested in giving them a task!
Simply Go Exploring! There are a lot of places in Green Valley that we only dipped our toes into. You could have them head down to Stinkmarsh, or maybe climb up the cliffs of Longridge. The world (Well, the Valley) is wholly open to them.
Explore Local Legends There are lots of local legends they can look into! Hopefully they search out something that isn't too far over their heads!
Continue Working for their Patron It would be an easy DM go to simply to have them continue working for their current Patron. They've probably been impressive enough fo a family to be interested in keeping them on.
Establish Themselves as Adventurers! Maybe they want to set up a Adventurers for Hire business? This "Heroes Guild" approach is really appealing to a lot of players and absolutely plays into Bumpkin Quest. Just remember, this is a place of low key problems that locals make really big deals out of. So the idea of slaying dragons shouldn't really be on the table... that is until an actual dragon shows up! Which one day absolutely should.

Not every town is on the map.
"Daddy, I gotta pee."
Dale Thornton looked over his shoulder at his six-year-old son belted into the back seat of their Jeep Cherokee. As the boy squirmed around, Dale looked at his wife in the passenger seat beside him. "Didn't he just go?"
Carol glanced at her watch. "That was over an hour ago." She twisted to look into the back seat. "Can you hold it?"
In the rearview mirror, Dale saw Jesse shake his head. His wife checked her watch again. He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head. She was the family mediator, and she had just come up with something that made perfect sense. One of the reasons he loved her so much was her ability to change gears. In himself, Dale recognized his single-mindedness as a drawback. He admired her flexibility. In more ways than one, he thought. She was a good wife and a good mother.
"It's almost five," Carol said. "Let's stop at the next town. We can all use the restroom and get something to eat."
Dale tugged the spiral-bound road atlas down from where he had wedged it between the visor and the roof. They had left Tulsa that morning, headed for Mardi Gras, and he hoped to be in New Orleans by 10 p.m. Looking at the LOUISIANA page, his eyes traced the route he had highlighted in yellow. They had detoured down old U.S. 167. Rural America was disappearing and Dale wanted his son to see something of it before it was completely gone.
They were somewhere south of Ruston. He couldn't remember if they had passed Jonesboro or not, so the next town was either that or--if they'd already passed it--Winnfield. The gas gauge was on a quarter of a tank. They needed to stop anyway. "All right, honey," he said. "We'll take a break."
Carol laid a hand on his leg. "I'm glad we came this way. You can't see anything from the Interstate."
Ten miles later they sprang upon a small town. There was an old-fashioned, carved wooden sign posted beside the highway. Dale read out loud, "Welcome to Batesville. Population 875."
"What's that mean," Jesse asked.
Dale glanced at his son in the rearview mirror. "That's how many people live here."
"When somebody dies, do they change the number on the sign?"
Carol smiled over her shoulder at Jesse. "I bet they change it when a baby is born."
Just like her. She didn't like to talk about death or dying. Instead, she liked to focus on the good things in life, babies, birthdays, and family vacations. She had always been like that but more so since her grandfather passed away last year. She had been very close to him, closer than she had ever been to her father.
Dale sneaked a glance at her. She was his angel but an angel with dark secrets. She had shared some of those secrets with him but not all of them, probably because she knew the abuse in her life disturbed him so much. "That sign probably hasn't been changed in twenty years," he said.
"Why put it up if it's not right?" Jesse asked.
Good question. "I don't know, son."
As they got into the little town, Dale was impressed. The side streets that cut off of the highway were lined with neat wooden houses, most of them with white picket fences. A lot of the little towns they had passed through looked run down and dirty, but not this one. Batesville was clean and pretty.
When they came to the town's only traffic light, Dale saw a business on each corner: a hotel, a gas station, a restaurant, and the Batesville General Store. Before the light turned green, Dale pulled the Jeep beside the pumps at the gas station. A middle-aged man wearing oil stained coveralls stepped out from the office. "What can I do you for?" he asked. His tone was friendly, something you didn't hear at many gas stations these days.
Dale stepped out of the driver's seat and stretched. "I need a fill-up and some food." Then he jerked his thumb toward the back seat. "And my son needs to use the head."
The man wiped his hands on a rag he pulled out of his pocket. Then he shook Dale's hand. "Dudley Simpson. I can help you with the gas and the bathroom for your boy, but as for food, afraid all I got is potato chips and sodas." He pointed to the restaurant across the street. "Right over there is the best food in town." He laughed. "Only restaurant we got, but I wouldn't kid you. It's really good. Restroom's not too bad either."
Jesse said he could hold it until they got to the restaurant, so Dale sent him and Carol across the street to get a table. When he reached for the gas pump, Dudley Simpson stopped him. "I don't charge extra for full service. Every car comes through here I pump the gas, look under the hood, and check the tires."
"Don't see that too much anymore," Dale said.
"Guess I'm kind of old-fashioned."
After Dudley finished, Dale added a couple of bucks to the bill. He felt a little awkward, unsure if he could tip the owner of a gas station without insulting him. But Dudley took no offense, just said thank you and asked him to stop in again on their way home.
When Dale turned the key, nothing happened. He turned it again and still nothing happened. Just a click. No dash lights, the motor didn't turn over, nothing. Dudley told him to pop the hood again. After Dale turned the key a couple more times with Simpson's head buried under the hood, Dudley said he'd found the problem. "Alternator's shot. You must've been running on battery for a good while."
"Can you fix it?"
The gas station owner looked at his watch. "Not today. Parts store is closed 'till tomorrow."
Great, just great, Dale thought.
"I could arrange a tow to somewhere else, next town down the highway has a Goodyear Service Center," Dudley said, "but even they won't get to it until tomorrow."
Dale nodded, his mind stuck on having to spend the night in Batesville instead of New Orleans.
"I'll get to it first thing," Dudley said. "Have you out of here by ten o'clock." He pointed at the hotel. "Mrs. Jensen has a nice place. A-C, cable TV, and no bugs."
Great. No bugs.
Dudley told Dale that he could leave the Jeep right where it was. No need to worry about it, he said. They had a town marshal but nothing ever happened in Batesville. So quiet the state police never even came by.
"Sorry I'm blocking your pumps," Dale said.
Dudley shrugged. "Other side's open." Then he looked at his watch. "Besides, it's five-thirty. I close in half an hour."
As he crossed the street, Dale remembered his gun. A Smith and Wesson .357 revolver that he always brought with him on road trips. You never knew what could happen. They might break down on the highway and get attacked by a drug-crazed motorcycle gang. The gun was in the cargo compartment, wrapped inside a cloth and tucked between the spare tire and the side wall. It would be safe enough.
At the restaurant he told Carol the news and in typical Carol fashion she looked on the bright side. "It'll be fun being stranded in a small town," she said. "Who knows what'll happen?"
"Do they have TV?" Jesse asked.
A cute young waitress served them. The plastic tag pinned to her blouse said her name was April. When she brought out their food she set Jesse's down first.
"That's the cutest little mark on your face," she said. "Almost looks like lipstick."
Unabashedly, Jesse pointed to the red oval shaped birthmark set high on his right cheek. "It means I'm special."
She smiled. "It looks like a kiss."
"Really?" Jesse asked.
Dale saw a look of contentment on Carol's face. Jesse's birthmark was something she'd never wanted their son to be shy or embarrassed about.
The waitress set out the rest of the plates. "I heard a mark like that means that right before you were born an angel kissed you."
Jesse turned to his mom. "Is that true?"
Carol smiled at her son and nodded. "I think she may be right."
April bent down and kissed Jesse on the top of his head. "I'm not an angel, but there's a kiss from me."
Dudley Simpson had been right; the food was excellent. After they ate, Dale got up to use the bathroom. "You need to go again, Jess?"
The boy shook his head. "No thanks."
Dale handed Carol a credit card. "Let's save our cash."
She nodded. "All right, baby."
"Back in a sec," he said as he turned away.
***
When he came out of the men's room, Carol and Jesse weren't at the table. The waitress had been quick. Most of the dirty plates were gone; the only ones left were his. Dale looked for his family near the front door, then up by the cash register, but they weren't there.
Maybe Jesse had changed his mind and Carol had brought him into the bathroom with her. So Dale waited, but after several minutes passed and they didn't come out, he decided to check outside. They might have gotten cold or Jesse could've gotten restless and they were waiting out front for him. But they weren't out front, either.
Across the street the lights were out at the gas station--Dudley was closed for the night. The Jeep Cherokee sat at the pumps. Anxiously, Dale looked at the hotel. Maybe...but they wouldn't do that, wouldn't have gone without him. That wasn't like Carol. Smart and independent, but she liked her husband doing the man things, and in her mind, checking into a hotel was a man thing.
Back inside he knocked on the door of the women's restroom. No one answered, so he cracked it open. "Carol?" No answer. "Carol, Jess, you there?"
"Can I help you, sir?" It was their waitress.
Embarrassed, Dale forced a laugh. "I seem to have lost my wife and son." He nodded toward the men's room. "While I was in there."
"Your wife and son?" She looked confused.
"When I came back they were gone."
She had a blank look on her face.
Annoyed, he said, "I ate with them."
The waitress furrowed her brow. "Sir, I didn't see you with anyone else."
Dale stared at her. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong, maybe this wasn't his waitress. He checked her name tag, saw it said April. "You waited on us." Dale pointed to his right cheek. "My son has that little birthmark. You said an angel kissed him."
She shrugged. "I think I'd remember that."
He pointed to himself. "You remember me?" Then at their table. "We were sitting right there."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. I remember you, but you ate by yourself." She turned to the table where Dale's dishes still sat. "I was just bringing you your bill."
He raised his voice. "Is this some kind of a joke?" People began looking at him.
April took a step back and raised her hands. "You need to talk to Mr. Simms."
"Who's Mr. Simms?"
"The owner."
"Well that's who I want to see."
Mr. Simms was already scurrying over. "What's the problem?"
Dale turned to him. "I can't find my family." He pointed at the girl. "She was our waitress and she's telling me she doesn't even remember them."
Mr. Simms looked at April.
She shrugged again. "I'm sorry but he was alone. I've never seen his family."
Simms looked like he didn't understand. April tried to explain it again, but Dale cut her off and pointed to the table. "My family and I ate right there. I went to the restroom, came out, and they were gone."
Mr. Simms clapped a hand on Dale's shoulder. "Maybe they're outside waiting for you."
"I've checked outside," he barked. "They're not there."
Simms glanced at the waitress. "Why don't you get back to work. I'll handle this."
Dale grabbed her by the arm. "She knows where they are."
Everyone in the restaurant stared at him.
Mr. Simms jerked Dale's hand away from the girl. "Sir, she said she doesn't know where your family is."
April pleaded with her boss. "He didn't have his family with him."
"She's lying!" Dale said, as he inched closer to April.
Simms stepped between them. Looking at Dale, he said, "Have you checked your car?"
He nodded. "It's broken down at the gas station across the street. We've got to spend the night at the hotel."
Mr. Simms smiled. "That's probably it."
"What?"
"I bet they're at the hotel."
"He was by himself," April said.
The restaurant owner snapped his head towards her and pointed to the dinning area. "Go."
She looked at her boss for a second, a half-formed protest on her lips; then suddenly she spun on her heel and stomped away.
Simms looked back at Dale. "Have you checked the hotel?"
"They wouldn't do that."
"Have you checked?" Insistent.
Dale could feel himself losing control as the sweat dripped from his armpits. He took several deep breaths, trying to force himself to calm down. "No, I haven't."
"Maybe your kids got tired."
The deep breathing had made him light-headed. "Just the one boy." As Dale turned toward the door, Simms patted him on the back. "I'm sure everything's going to be fine."
But things weren't fine. At the hotel, he woke up Mrs. Jensen. Turns out she and Mr. Jensen had an apartment behind the office. Dale had banged on the glass door of the office for five minutes before a light came on.
Mrs. Jensen had come out first. A white haired old lady, covered in a paper-thin pink housecoat, imprinted with blue flowers the size of a quarter. A minute later, Mr. Jensen, looking about seventy, dressed in a full set of dark green, silk pajamas and a pair of matching slippers, stumbled into the office, smelling like he'd taken a bath in Jack Daniel's.
Dale's heart sank. He went through the story anyway, but as he expected, the Jensens said that no one had checked in or even come by since mid-morning.
Walking back to the restaurant, he looked at his Jeep. Still empty and no one near it.
A marked police car was parked near the restaurant's front door. As he got closer, Dale read the decal on the side, BATESVILLE TOWN MARSHAL. Maybe now he could get some help.
Just inside, near the cash register, Dale found April the waitress, Mr. Simms, and a heavyset man in jeans and a T-shirt, talking. As he walked up, all three stopped and stared at him. He felt like a freak in a boardwalk exhibit.
"Did you find them?" Simms asked.
Dale shook his head. "The people at the hotel haven't seen them."
The big man in jeans took a step toward him. "Mr...?
"Thornton. Dale Thornton."
The man stuck out his hand. "Jerry Stillwell. I'm town marshal."
"Saw your car outside." Dale shook the marshal's hand. "My wife and son are miss--"
"I understand there was a problem here earlier."
"Yeah there's a problem. My family disappeared."
The marshal and Simms traded glances; then he looked back at Dale. "So I heard. What do you think happened to them?"
Something didn't feel right. "If I knew that, they wouldn't be missing."
Marshal Stillwell stuck his belly out. "No reason to get smart. You all ready scared some customers. Don't make--"
"Scared some customers. Is that why you're here, because I scared some customers? My wife and son are MISSING!" Everyone in the restaurant had stopped eating and was watching the soap opera at the door. With a sharp edge to his voice, Dale said, "What are you going to do about it?"
The marshal jabbed a finger at him. "You better calm yourself down or I'll do it for you. Now I need to ask you some questions," his eyes swept the customers, "and I don't think this is the place to do it."
"I'm not going anywhere." Dale pointed to the completely cleaned off table where they'd eaten. "Half an hour ago my family and I ate right there. Now they're gone. Someone in here knows what happened to them."
The marshal dropped a big hand on Dale's shoulder and tried to guide him out the door. "We're going to find your family, but not here, not like--"
Dale pulled away. He pointed to Simms and the waitress. "They coming with us?"
"I don't see the need for--"
Dale reached out for April. "She's lying!"
With surprising speed, the town marshal slipped behind him and clamped a meaty forearm around his throat, sealing off his windpipe. Dale grabbed at the hairy arm and tried to twist it away as the marshal whispered in his ear, "Take it easy, son." Then something jabbed him in the kidney that sent waves of pain shooting up his back.
Seconds later, Dale was on the floor, his cheek pressed against the cool tiles, as the marshal handcuffed his wrists behind his back.
***
"She said it was the kiss of an angel, huh?" Marshal Stillwell asked. Things had calmed down some. Dale and the town marshal were alone in his office. Dale was still handcuffed, but the marshal had moved them to the front. He sat in a chair in front of the lawman's desk, watching him fill out forms with a ballpoint pen. Stillwell touched his finger to his right cheek. "That mark you're talking about is right here?"
Dale nodded.
"That's strange."
The handcuffs were uncomfortable. Dale twisted his wrists, trying to get some circulation back. "What's unusual about it?"
"We had a preacher in town few years back with the same kind of mark on his face." Stillwell traced a small circle on his cheek. "Heard him say once during a sermon it was from an angel's kiss."
Dale stared at the marshal, his flesh suddenly crawling with goosebumps.
"But he was a strange one. Lots of rumors. Guess it goes with the territory."
"What territory?"
"Young, good-looking preacher. Single. Moves into town, starts preaching all hours of the night." He gave Dale a knowing wink, like they were sharing a secret. "Giving special counseling sessions to half the women in town."
Grasping at straws, looking for anything. Dale said, "Is he still here?"
Marshal Stillwell shook his head. "Church burned down."
"What about the preacher?"
"We never found his body."
"He was the only one in the church?"
Stillwell looked down at the form on his desk and pressed his pen to it. "He had six or eight ladies in there with him. Supposed to be some sort of social club. Fire was so hot, we couldn't tell one body from the next. That was when the rumors really started."
Dale flexed his fingers. His hands hurt. "What kind of rumors?"
The marshal laughed. "Just gossip. People 'round here are simple minded, superstitious, that's all."
"What kind of gossip?"
Stillwell looked up. "Not everybody you understand, but some people have been talking about how the preacher isn't really dead, about how he's gonna come back some day."
Dale needed to get out, to find Carol and Jesse. There was something terribly wrong here. "Am I under arrest?"
Stillwell nodded.
In the corner stood a single holding cell, the door gaping open, waiting. "What's the charge?"
The marshal jerked a thumb in the general direction of the restaurant. "Disturbing the peace."
"What about my family?"
The man tapped the pile of forms in front of him. "I'll forward these missing persons reports to the state police in the morning; then I'll call the judge and try to get a bond set for you."
Dale sprung to his feet. "I've got to find my family tonight!"
Marshal Stillwell eased out of his chair and stood up. "Just calm down. Soon as I get this information to them, the state troopers will be on the lookout." He jerked his thumb toward the south. "Their office is just five miles down the road."
Dale nodded at the phone on the desk. "Call them now."
The marshal shook his head. "Can't do that."
"Why not."
"I got procedures to follow."
Dale Thornton squatted and shoved the desk into Stillwell. The marshal's chair rolled back on its casters but snagged on something and tipped over, spilling Marshal Stillwell onto the floor. Dale scrambled over the desk, knocking papers, pens, and a near full cup of coffee on top of the lawman, then dropped a knee into the man's big belly. The marshal curled into a ball and moaned.
Stillwell didn't have a gun on him, at least not one Dale could find. The way he was dressed it looked like he had been called out from home. Maybe he forgot his gun, or maybe he just didn't carry one. Dale grabbed a handful of shirt and dragged the marshal into the open holding cell, then kicked the door shut. It locked automatically.
By the time Stillwell staggered to his feet Dale was searching his desk. The marshal tried to rip the steel bars apart with his bare hands. "Let me out of here, you crazy bastard!"
Dale ignored him. In the bottom right hand drawer he found a gun, a .38 caliber, five-shot Smith and Wesson. Stillwell started shouting for help. Dale leveled the gun at him. "Shut up."
Stillwell quit yelling.
Dale kept searching.
A few seconds later, the marshal said, "You'll never get away with this."
Holding his wrists up, Dale rattled the handcuffs. "Keys?"
The cop pointed to the desk. "Bottom left."
After he got the handcuffs off, Dale finished going through the desk, then did a quick search of a filing cabinet that was set against the wall. There he found keys to the holding cell and a roll of duct tape.
As Dale approached the cell, Marshal Stillwell backed against the far wall. "What are you gonna do?"
Aiming the revolver at Stillwell's belly, Dale ordered him to lie on the floor. A few minutes later he relocked the cell door, leaving the marshal with his hands cuffed behind his back and a strip of silver duct tape wrapped around his head that sealed his mouth shut. On his way out of the marshal's office, Dale tossed the revolver back into the desk drawer and kicked it shut. That was trouble he didn't need.
The state police. "Their office is just five miles down the road," the marshal had said.
Darkness had settled over the Batesville. How long had he been in the marshal's office? Everything in town was closed and locked up tight. There wasn't a light to be seen, and not a soul on the street. He didn't see any payphones.
He had to get out of town. Which way had the marshal pointed when he mentioned the state police? Thinking about it, Dale decided it had to be south. They'd driven in from the north and he was sure they hadn't passed a state police troop.
The night had turned cold. If he was going to walk for five miles he needed a jacket.
It took just a few minutes to make it to the gas station. His Jeep was right where he'd left it, but when he reached into his pocket for the keys they weren't there. An image flashed through his mind. A close up shot just like in a movie. His hand reaching toward Dudley Simpson's, and in his hand, his keys.
Damn!
He looked into the rear window, saw their luggage lying in the back. Dale thought about breaking the window and getting a jacket, maybe his gun, too. Not the gun. He was in enough trouble all ready for what he'd done to the town marshal. Assault, kidnapping--maybe not kidnapping, he hadn't taken him anywhere, just locked him in his own cell--but something like kidnapping. Desperation had driven him to it. That's the only reason he had done it. Because he had to find Carol and Jesse.
He could make it without a jacket.
Old Highway 167 south. Dale Thornton started walking. Ten minutes later he saw headlights behind him, coming from town. He crouched in the bushes beside the highway, but the beat-up pickup glided to a stop next to him. An old man sat behind the wheel, alone in the truck. "You need a ride?"
Feeling like a complete fool, Dale stood. "Yeah, I guess."
"Where you headed?"
"You know where the state police office is?"
The old man nodded, then jerked his head toward the passenger side. "Hop in."
As he climbed into the pickup truck, Dale shot a glance at the old man. Probably at least seventy, with long ghost white hair and a bushy mustache, wearing a stained undershirt and a pair of denim overalls. Dale scanned the dashboard for a clock but didn't see one. "What time is it?"
The old man shrugged. "Haven't worn a watch in thirty years. Do things as quick as I can. A timepiece strapped to my wrist ain't gonna make me move any faster."
The drive was torture. Never did the old man go over thirty-five miles an hour. Only good thing was that he didn't ask any questions. Just dropped Dale off in the parking lot of the state police troop. As he walked through the door into the police station, Dale glanced over his shoulder and saw the old man's pickup rumbling down the highway.
Inside, sitting behind a chest high counter, was a uniformed trooper, sergeant stripes on his sleeves. Mid-40's, with an iron gray crew cut. "Can I help you, sir?" the sergeant said.
Dale spat out the story as fast as he could, leaving out the part about how he'd handcuffed the town marshal and left him gagged in his own jail cell.
The sergeant's face had remained inscrutable while Dale talked. "What was the name of that town again, sir?"
"Batesville."
The sergeant wheeled his chair over to a map hanging on the wall. "And where'd you say it was?"
The state cop demonstrated the same bureaucrat mentality as the town marshal. Any minute now he'd break out a sheaf of forms and start filling them out. Dale pointed north. "Five miles that way."
"What'd you say your name was again?" The sergeant glided the chair back over to his work area and pulled a pen from his shirt pocket.
"Thornton. Dale Thornton."
As soon as the sergeant finished jotting Dale's name on a pad, he looked up. "There's no town named Batesville."
"I was just there!"
The sergeant stood up. "Take it easy, sir. I'm sure you just got the name mixed up."
Just like in the restaurant.
"...get to the bottom of it." The desk sergeant was still talking, but Dale hadn't heard everything. He felt dizzy. Was everyone around here crazy? "We ate dinner there," he mumbled. "I left my car at the gas station. Dudley Simpson's gas station."
The sergeant nodded as he walked around the counter. A big man, at least six feet, with the beefy build of a weightlifter. "I know Simpson's place. Old 167 and Highway 90. But there's no town there, just the gas station."
"The gas station's smack in the middle of the town. There's a restaurant, a general store, and a hotel, too."
The sergeant closed on him, his body bladed, his gun side away from Dale. "I need you to put your hands on the counter, sir."
"What?"
With his right hand resting on his holstered pistol, the state trooper took hold of Dale's wrist with his left hand and pushed it to the top of the counter. Dale's other hand followed. The sergeant said, "Pull you feet back."
"What are you doing?"
"You have any weapons on you?"
"No! Of course not." Glad he'd left the marshal's gun, glad he hadn't gotten his own out of the Jeep.
"I'm just gonna pat you down."
"Why?" Dale said. "I haven't done anything. My family's missing?"
The sergeant slid his hands over Dale's waist and the outside of his pockets. "It's for safety, sir."
"Whose?"
"Yours and mine," the trooper sergeant said as he stepped backward a few feet.
"Something's happened to my wife and son. I came here for help."
"What happened to them?"
"I don't know," Dale said. "That's why I need your help."
"Mr. Thornton, I've worked this area for nineteen years. There is no town called Batesville."
"I don't care what you call it, but there's a town five miles away and we need to go there right now."
"Closest town is twelve miles from here and it's south."
The gas station. At least the sergeant knew about the gas station. Dale looked over his shoulder at the big cop. "Can I stand up?" After getting a nod, Dale pushed away from the counter and stood straight. Arguing wasn't getting him anywhere. "Look sergeant, maybe I seem a bit confused, but I know my wife and 6-year-old son are missing. Our car broke down at Simpson's gas station. Can you drive me there and help me look for them?"
The sergeant took his hand off his pistol and relaxed a little. "How'd you get here?"
"An old man in a pickup gave me a ride."
"You get his name?"
Dale's mouth opened but nothing came out as he realized he couldn't remember a thing about the old man or his truck. No details at all.
"What's the matter?"
Dale shook his head. "He...he just gave me a ride. I didn't get his name."
The trooper sergeant held up his hand. "Stay right here. Soon as I get someone to cover the desk, I'll give you a ride back to Simpson's."
Ten minutes later Dale climbed into the passenger seat of the state police car. The sergeant looked over at him. "Put your seatbelt on." Dale strapped himself in but noticed the sergeant didn't.
On the highway the trooper asked him to go over the story again. As Dale repeated what had happened, the sergeant asked several questions about Simpson's: what time of day, what was wrong with the car, who had the keys; but he asked nothing about what happened in the restaurant. The restaurant that wasn't there, according to the sergeant.
A few minutes later the police cruiser's headlights lit up the darkened gas station and Dale's Jeep parked at the pumps.
There was nothing else--absolutely nothing else.
The sergeant slowed down as he turned into the parking lot. "That your Cherokee?"
Stunned, Dale couldn't answer. Staring out the window, struck dumb by what he saw, or didn't see. No restaurant, no hotel, no Batesville General Store--no town. Just empty farmland and a few trees surrounding the gas station.
The trooper pulled his car up behind the Jeep, leaving a car-length gap between the two of them. "Stay here," he said as he pulled a flashlight from a charger mounted to the dash.
Dale leaned his head against the window and watched the sergeant creep up to the driver's door of his Jeep Cherokee, flashlight held out in front of him, his other hand on the butt of his pistol. The state cop opened the door--the locked door--and poked his head inside the passenger compartment of Dale's Jeep. The trooper backed out and held up his hand, Dale's keys dangling from his fingers. "Keys were inside," he shouted.
With legs quivering, Dale stepped out of the police car. He couldn't understand this. The Jeep had been locked, Dudley Simpson had the keys. He stumbled toward the trooper.
The sergeant shined his flashlight into the back, into the cargo compartment. Suddenly, his face turned to stone. He dropped the keys, drew his gun, aimed both it and his flashlight at Dale. "Don't move!"
Dale stopped dead. What the hell was...
"Get on the ground!"
Not comprehending, Dale just stood there.
The trooper screamed at him, "Get on the fucking ground--now."
Dale Thornton dropped face down onto the pavement. From the corner of his eye, he saw the sergeant side-stepping around him until he was behind Dale and to his left.
The trooper said, "Turn your head to the right."
Dale did as he was told. Then the sergeant closed in and cuffed his hands behind his back. Just the second time in his life Dale had been handcuffed, both on the same night.
After backing up a few steps, the sergeant keyed the radio clipped to his belt and called the state police troop. When the dispatcher answered, the sergeant said, "I need back up units," Dale heard him take a deep breath, "and notify the corner."
The tinny voice from the radio said, "What you got, sergeant?"
"Homicide," the trooper answered. "Suspect is in custody."
Homicide?
The sergeant hooked Dale's elbows and jerked him to his feet, then picked up the keys and opened the tailgate of the Jeep.
Lying in the back, in the cargo space, arms and legs twisted into a torturous configuration, was the naked body of his wife, Carol. At the back of her head, her golden hair was tangled and caked with dried blood. Her face chalk white, her forehead blown out where the bullet had exited. On the carpet next to her was a .357 revolver--Dale's .357 revolver.
She was alone.
"Jesse!" Dale screamed at the dark and empty fields.
***
In 1885 the town of Batesville, Louisiana burned to the ground. Scores of people were killed in the predawn fire that swept through the town. Among those reported killed in the blaze was the town's only minister, but many bodies were so badly burned that positive identification was impossible.
The fire started in the Batesville church and was allegedly set by a preacher from a nearby town. The preacher, a God-fearing and righteous man, was said to have been outraged at the evil deeds going on in Batesville, which he had called a modern-day Sodom.
The town of Batesville was never rebuilt.
THE END

2015 ford edge wiper blade size

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Durability w/ Force Field/Armor

Blunt

Piercing/Cutting

Sound

Heat

Cold

Electricity

Light

Energy

Chemical

Adhesive

Biological

Matter Manipulation

Phasing

Magic

Soul/Life Force

Power Absorption/Nullification

Mental

Durability w/o Force Field/Armor

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Mental

The Return of the Prince: Rhaegar at the Trident

Lyanna fought Robert at the Trident

Welcome to Green Valley

Four Merry Jaunts Through the Bumpkin Quest Campaign

Hills Furrow

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide

ACT 1: Pre-Festival

ACT 2: Sweeping Day

ACT 3: Winter’s End

ACT 4: Day of Ashes

CLOSING

CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens

ACT 1: Meet the Boss

ACT 2: Chicken Dance

ACT 3: Bumpy Roads

ACT 4: Final Delivery

CLOSE

CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent

ACT 1: To the Tower

ACT 2: Marvin the Magnificent

ACT 3: The Cabinet of Mysteries

ACT 4: Blinking Goats

CLOSE

CHAPTER 4: High Society

ACT 1: Special Delivery

ACT 2: Put up the Tent

ACT 3: Put These On

ACT 4: An Evening to Remember

CLOSE

QUEST-LINE CLOSING

Welcome to Green Valley

Four Merry Jaunts Through the Bumpkin Quest Campaign

Hills Furrow

CHAPTER 1: Green Tide

ACT 1: Pre-Festival

ACT 2: Sweeping Day

ACT 3: Winter’s End

ACT 4: Day of Ashes

CLOSING

CHAPTER 2: A Cartload of Chickens

ACT 1: Meet the Boss

ACT 2: Chicken Dance

ACT 3: Bumpy Roads

ACT 4: Final Delivery

CLOSE

CHAPTER 3: Marvin the Magnificent

ACT 1: To the Tower