Classic-Castle Roleplay - Gaming Thread

[smcginnis]

Location: Unknown. (How original. XD. And no, Shadowviking, you're not the only one still in this.)

___A deafening clap of thunder followed, almost instantly, the lightning that had moments before illuminated the locale: a few barren trees and a ruined watchtower. The storm was unusual for these parts in that, although thundering, there was no rain.

___A cloaked figure moved swiftly along the abandoned road. It was not hurrying, and yet it was still moving faster than a marching regiment. It cringed whenever the lightning flashed. Spying the ruin, it quickly dashed over and sheltered beneath the crumbling ceiling. As it passed the doorway, ivy that was growing in the rotten wood withered and died; and when it sat down on the floor, rats scurried as fast as they could away from it.
___The figure pulled its hood off, revealing a hideous sight. The skin was mottled and dark purple, as if bruised; there was no hair, not even eyelashes; and the face was grotesque. The eyes, darting glances around the dark building, were golden, but evilly so; with horizontal slits for pupils. The nose was narrow and flat, and the ears were ragged and pointed. When it opened its lipless mouth to drink from a canteen, sharp, pointed teeth poked out.
___Spreading its cloak on the ground, and laying down a long, black stick it had been carrying, the figure prepared to stay the night. Suddenly, it grabbed the stick up defensively, and asked, in a hissing voice, "Whoo isss there?"
___A man stepped out of the shadows near the empty fireplace. Although dressed in a travel-stained, navy-colored suit of clothing, he nevertheless bore himself like a prince. He was clean shaven, and had shoulder length black hair. He wore a grim smile, as though he had been through great hardship only to find that it had been needless. He spoke, in a clear, firm voice, "I believe you know who I am, Sijil."
___Sijil, though evil, was not stupid, and he knew that this man was more than a match for him. As he slowly maneuvered his weapon until it was pointing at the man, he said, "Aahh, sso we meet again. You were lucky to have esscaped lassst time. I won't let you get away from me...AGAIN!" So saying, Sijil pressed a knot on the black stick and a bolt issued forth towards the stranger. It struck him in the chest, and as he fell, Sijil rushed over.
___"Ah, you have bested me, finally, old enemy," said the man. "But I have to tell you something." He pulled out the bolt and moved aside his cloak, revealing a metal plate atop a coat of mail, in which the arrow had stuck. "You haven't killed me yet!" With this, he drew a copper knife from his belt, and stabbed Sijil through the heart.
___Sijil's eyes widened, and he died, moments later, without a sound. The man in blue looked grimly at the body, and muttered, "No use burying him, the ground would simply cast him back up. And I can't just leave him here..." Drawing another knife, this one silver, he struck it against the first, and a green spark fell from them onto Sijil's prone form. The man coved Sijil with the dark creature's cloak, and set the stick beside him. The green flames began to cover the cloak, and the man departed for happier places.

[smcginnis]

Location: Forestmen's Territory.

___Galf stood up and stretched, shaking his hair out of his face. The dwarves were nice people, but being underground for several weeks got tiresome. He'd finally decided to ask them to take him above ground two days ago, and it had taken all that time to get here. One of the two dwarves guiding him was his rescuer from the dungeon, Ojwok. "Thank ye for helping me," Galf said.
___"Oh, 'tweren't nuthin'. Oi rekkin yuh'll be seein' oos agin sumday suin. Well, boi thin," Ojwok said.
___"Guiday, Mr. Broadspear," said the other dwarf, shaking hands with Galf. "If'n ye'ver need anythin', doan't bother to ahsk me, cos like's not, Ah'll be busy in the moines!" Laughing at his own joke, the dwarf closed the hidden tunnel entrance after descending.
___Galf stood for a few moments in the shade, adjusting his eyes to the brightness, before moving onto the nearby road. He'd been walking for about ten minutes when he spotted soldiers ahead. Not being sure whether it would be safe to meet them, he ducked behind a tree until he could discern the Falcon symbols on their uniforms.
___Stepping back onto the road, he hailed them, and saluted the captain. "Good morning, sir. I wish to speak to you—alone." The captain signaled a halt and rest, and the small troop sat down on the sides of the road.
___Walking forward to where Galf stood, the captain scrutinized the Bull. He looks honest enough, thought the captain. "Well?" he asked.
___"Sir, through no fault of my own, I have been accused of insubordination; and the murder of my sergeant. I shall swear my innocence on my life, but nevertheless I cannot return to Lewgalad; not yet, at least. I would be very grateful if I could join your troop temporarily," Galf said. "I have here my registry as a member of the Allied armies of Lewgalad and Falconia. I lack only a uniform."
___"Hmm. I'll have to check with my superiors on this, but you're welcome to accompany us back to camp," said the captain. After a slight pause, he added, "Of course, you will have to blindfolded... but I trust that that will only be a small inconvenience?"
___"Most assuredly, sir. I will do anything to prove my innocence and find the real murderer."
___"Well, that's good then. Evans, Brown, please blindfold our guest here. He'll be returning with us. Troop, form up!" As the two Falcon infantrymen blindfolded Galf, the rest of the group stood and formed ranks, then began marching south.

Translations of Dwarf dialogue:"Oh, it was nothing. I reckon you'll be seeing us again someday soon. Well, bye then."
"Gooday, Mr. Broadspear."
"If you ever need anything, don't bother to ask me, 'cause like as not I'll be busy in the mines!"

[Maedhros]

Galdrutt was beyond humour by then. "I can tolerate him...just."

For the first time in months Alcander awoke with a feeling of content and calm. He was lying in a small room with a small window and no furniture except the two beds where he and Galdrutt slept. With his heart lightened by the rays of sunlight coming through the window he got up and inhaled deeply. He smiled slightly to himself as he looked upon the snoring Galdrutt and pondered whether to wake him up now or let him sleep. He didn´t have an easy night, he smiled to himself. Alcander himself didn´t remember much of the previous night; he just had this feeling of safety and calm, and he remembered a comforting fire, and good food, and too much wine for poor Galdrutt by the looks of it.

After a while he put all those thoughts out of his head and kneeled on the floor. He closed his eyes and murmured a thanks to the Twilight Dragon, the Mother of Darkness and Father of Light.

“What are you up to?” Galdrutt suddenly grumbled.

“Oh, nothing important”, Alcander said as he got up on his feet again. Galdrutt met his gaze with bloodshot eyes and a confused looking expression.

“Something about that special Order you belong to, eh?”

“Well, yes.”

Galdrutt shrugged his shoulders and buried his face in his hands. “Oh, tyco… I drank quite a lot yesterday, didn´t I?”

“You did.”

“Did I make a fool out of myself?”

“No. If not breaking that silly Morcian etiquette counts, if so we are fools both of us”, Alcander smiled.

“Yes, indeed”, Galdrutt chuckled. “And now it’s time to find those banana knights and talk about that tyco Vladek, isn’t it?”

Alcander nodded slowly and started to put on the bizarre green robes that the Banterians had left for them.

“You look…” But Galdrutt didn´t finish the sentence. “Gah… I need more sleep.”

[Shadowviking]

Location: Same as before, WP forest

...And walked straight into a wall.

"Ow!" he cried, than promptly shut his mouth. Had anyone heard him?

" 'Ey, Nigel, wot wuzzat?" "I dunno, come on and check it out!"

Mavvith grimaced. Yup, they'd heard him. "Aw, bricks." he thought. He heard them walking towards him, but couldn't pinpoint their location.

"Well, look 'oo it is, Nigel! That fellar we robbed earlier!"

Mavvith winced, then said: " 'Ere, what are you on about, robbin a fellow Packwolf!"

"Hah, didja 'ear that, Nigel? 'E thinks we're Wolfpack! Ha!"

Puzzled, Mavvith turned. They weren't Wolfpack! They looked like... Forestmen?

Seeing his confused look, the first one said: "Wot, ain'tchoo ever heard of the Dark Forestmen?"
"Well..." this time it was Nigel who spoke. "I s'pose you'll be wantin' revenge, Eh?"

"I'd prefer that you returned to me what you took, if you'd please." Mavvith replied icily.

"Hoho!" the guards laughed. "If we please, he says!"

Turning to Mavvith, the first guard said "And just why would we 'please' to give back such a fine sword 'n' shield, let alone an 'ealthy amount of gold?"

Mavvith clenched his fist.

Nigel nudged him. "Ey, 'Orace! I think 'es gettin' mad! Mebbe 'eel try to take us all on! They laughed again.

Once again, Mavvith clenched his fist, and this time, Horace tried to calm him, saying: "Ye'd be foolish to try, we're twunny-five stroung, not a'countin' ourselves or our boss. Ye'd be wasted." It worked in reverse, however, and Mavvith tensed his muscles and prepared to lunge for the man's throat.

Seeing or guessing his intent, Nigel said hurriedly: " 'Ey, wot say we take you to Willam? Er, he's our boss, he might let you go!"
Horace replied, "Aye, Willam'll know what to do with'im! Won't be our problem anymore." Without waiting for a response, they grabbed Mavvith and dragged him off.

[smcginnis]

Location: Royal Quay, Saker Port.

___As Accalia walked to her ship, escorted by an armed contingent of guards, she glanced at one of the busy other quays; and happened, for a moment, to see a face she thought she knew. The crowds shifted, though, and she thought nothing more of it. She boarded her ship, and set off for home—what was left of it.

___The Wayfarer arrived that day in Falconia City, three hours after Accalia departed from Saker Port. He came, or so he said, from the Dark Forest, but nobody could say for sure if that was the truth. After entering the city gates, he traveled through the market and to the manor district. Here, he wound his way along the hilly, serpentine roads; and stopping in the Rue d'la Champs du Or*, requested entrance at the gate of No. 14. The gatekeeper obliged, and the Wayfarer walked to the front door of the manor and rapped sharply upon it.
___A butler opened it, and said, "Yes?" as he looked with ill-concealed contempt at the frayed and muddied cloak of the knocker. "What do you want?"
___"I have an appointment with," here he dug into his pocket for a piece of paper, "with the Marquis d'Flightly, Ryflar Gyrfalck. This is his place of residence in the city, is it not?"
___"Yes," said the butler sourly. "Let me see that bit of parchment." The Wayfarer handed to the butler, who examined it closely, and finally, with an air of disappointment, ushered the man into a large drawing-room off of the left side of the entrance hall. There, he stated that the honorable the marquis would be with him shortly.**
___A minute later, the marquis entered. An older man of average height, the Marquis d'Flightly was every inch a soldier. He wore none of the usual frills of his high class, but merely a simple, though expensive, suit of blue and black, as befit a man of his country. He bowed formally to the Wayfarer, who returned the honor; and then spoke. "Please, sit down. That's better. Now, about my problem.
___"As you may perhaps know, I own another house—several more, actually, but that is beside the point. Anyhow, this house of mine is situated in the north of Flightly; and there my daughter and her husband spend the holidays. They were out for a walk one day, when they were captured by the local dragon, and taken to her lair."
___Here the Wayfarer interrupted. "Pardon me, sir, but I am not a dragon slayer. I have not nearly the skill or power required for such a feat."
___"I understand. The dragon itself is not the problem, really. In fact, she was a friend of my daughter and her husband's, and was quite amiable to anyone who met her. That's probably what caused the problem in the first place.
___"You see, she was so ready to make friends with anyone, that she came into contact with a demon, who abandoned its prior host to possess her. Therein lies your task. I wish you to destroy the demon without harming the dragon, and free my daughter and son-in-law. For this, you will be paid fifty thousand Peregrines." At the naming of this sum, a gasp came from the direction of the door. The marquis turned and addressed the person from whom the exclamation came in an irked voice, "Did I not request this interview to be private, Marnow? Really, I'm quite disappointed in you. Kindly depart."
___The butler, for it was he, closed the door in an embarrassed fashion after bowing and apologizing to his master; and the two in the drawing-room could hear his shoes retreating across the marble floor of the hall.
___The marquis resumed his conversation. "Ah, retainers. Can't live with them, can't live without them." The Wayfarer smiled at this. "So. Fifty thousand Peregrines. Is the amount agreeable to you?"
___"Yes, your honor. Quite agreeable. I only ask for an advance of sixty of those coins to get me to your manor in the north."
___"Of course. I have had enough recommendations from my friends and colleagues to trust you with it." The marquis stood up and walked to where several bells rested on a shelf. He picked up the second-smallest, and rang it. Within moments, his accountant was at the door.
___"Yes, your honor?" he asked. He was a small, cheerful-looking old man.
___"Write this man a cheque for sixty Peregrines, payable on demand at my banker here in the city." This was done promptly, and the accountant handed it to the Wayfarer. The marquis then shook the latter by the hand, and bade him farewell. "A pleasure doing business with you."
___"The same to you, sir. Good afternoon." The wayfarer was shown to the gate by Marnow, and then made his way to the marquis' bank. After withdrawing the coinage, he purchased a horse for about eighty Tiercels, or eight Peregrines; and mounting it, rode out of the northern gates of the city, and towards Flightly Province.

*Hopefully this means "Street of the Fields of Gold." If not, could someone who speaks French PM me the correct words?
**Yes, the 'the' after the word 'honorable' is intended.

[Matt BeDar]

Location: Slamor, a fishing town on an island of Falconia

As he walked through the dirty streets, Max couldn't help but notice all the dead bodies surrounding the local dock.


Flashback
The Vikings had come to raid the town, but were met with a strong and well organized defense. The fighting on the beach and on the dock had been fierce. It looked as if the Vikings were going to break through the villagers defenses.

Just as the Vikings started to push the villagers farther back, a roar of pure hatred arose from behind the Vikings.

Fearing that some sea monster had come to destroy their ships, the Vikings turned around and started to run back to the ships that were beached on the shore.

As the enraged Vikings approached the ships, their chief leading the charge, a spear was thrown from behind one of the larger ships.

The spear was aimed right at the chiefs stomach. As the spear punched a hole through his stomach, the Viking horde stopped and watched in utter shock and horror as their leader crumpled to the ground, the spear that ended his life a good twenty feet behind him.

As the chief fell to the ground, dead, a man stepped out from behind the ship he had been hiding behind.

This man was obviously a master at close combat, but the Vikings didn't care, he had killed their leader and for that he must die.

As the horde approached, Max chuckled. How long had it been since he had had a good fight?
End Flashback


As he looked out over the piles of dead bodies, most of them killed by him, Max let out an exasperated sigh.

It turned out that the Vikings had been no match for him.

[Remyth]

Ok, first post since Feb. the 2nd!


Location: Black Falcon Capital City


_Sir Enithador rode through the city of his king, trying to relax his overworked mind. If the Crusaders attack, I shall be the commander in the field, since Sir Youpir was slain by the dragon on Mount Girthey. I don't know if I could handle it. We would certainly need to recruit at least another legion, if not more. Our army can't be defeated. It can't, it won’t. Not while I am left standing. He nudged his horse into a trot and headed towards home.

_He had not gone far when he saw a young man, probably about 16, running very fast down the lane towards him. Chasing him was a group of five or six ruffians. He reigned in his horse as the boy reached him. Here he drew his sword and dismounted as the ruffians reached him. He looked at each of them in turn with a steady, piercing gaze. They quickly saw that the chase had been foiled. They dispersed quickly without saying a thing.

_When Sir Enithador reached his house, he dismounted, handed the reigns to a servant with a kind word, and walked up to the door. He walked into the building and headed straight to the wash basin. He bathed and returned to the entrance hall to find the boy he had helped standing there in betwixt his two door wardens. He walked over to the young man. "He wanted to thank you for saving him from those men," said one of the wardens. "DO you know what he is talking about, sir?"

_"Yes, I do," said Sir Enithador. "A group of ruffians were chasing him and I stopped them. What is you name, son?" These last words were directed at the boy."

_"Fredtar, son of Werdtar," answered the boy.

_"And why where they chasing you?" prompted Sir Enithador.

_"They thought I stole a pendent from their gang storehouse. It seems like they were making it out to be made of a special gem found only in the heart of the Gerdas Forest, on the top of Mount Hanalakalugy, or something like that," replied Fredtar.

_"Did you steal it?" asked an astounded Enithador. The boy just shuffled from one foot to another.

[TheCrazyModder]

Location: unknown dark forest
THe man walked down the dark path. He was not a human. No human could have walked the distance he had without dying. He was still weak though. He wished to find other beings.
He looked up, his cat-like eyes shining. He raised his 6-fingered hand to a sign nearby. He read it, eager to leave the forest. "Ah, a village. That should do well enough for me."
He walked on, ignorant of the eyes watching him.
(By the way, is it posiible for two characters, of different people, to meet?)

[Matt BeDar]

Location: Slamor, a fishing town on an island of Falconia


The towns folk watched in a mixture of admiration, astonishment, and horror as the giant knight walked up the beach towards the village.

As he neared the mass of on watchers, Max couldn't help but notice the looks of dismay and shock at his strength. After all, it wasn't everyday that you saw a single man kill 250 or so vikings, in a matter of minutes, and all on his own.

The towns people all shrank back in fear as Max started to walk through the crowd.

There were only three people standing at the back of the crowd that did not move, the town elder, the town war veteran, and the elders grand daughter.

As max neared these three obviously important people, he bowed, first to the elder, then to the war veteran, then to the elders grand daughter. Each of the three then bowed back.

The elder shook Max's hand, the elders hand dwarfed in size by Max's hand. "I wish we could give you a proper welcome stranger, but given the current circumstances I don't think that these good people would be happy to have you staying here," the elder said mournfully in his rasping voice, "so I have to ask you to continue onward and leave our town behind you." With that being said the town representatives turned their backs and started walking back to the people on the beach.

Max watched as they went, understanding that they were only thinking of the well being of the town, but he still felt a pang of longing for his dead family as he watched the grand daughter hug her husband.

Edit:
(TheCrazyModder it is quite possible for different characters to interact, after all that is the reason for this RPG, to interact with others)

[smcginnis]

Location: A dark tower hidden somewhere in the land...

___Though it was day in the lands nearby, no light reached the Tower. A very tall man, at least six and a half feet in height, sat on a black, thorny throne, firelight flickering across his clothes, which were the color of newly shed blood. His face was obscured by a long beard, grey or dirty white, and also by a tall, broad-brimmed, black hat, perched on top of his head. "Where is... Sijil?" he asked the other man in the room, in a voice deceptively calm.
___"I do not know, you worship," said the man. Among other men, he would have seemed a proud prince—rather tall; head held high; a determined look in his clear, grey eyes; and flame-orange hair, cut in a royal fashion—but next to his lord, he seemed cowed, small, nervous. "He um, last reported, ehm, four weeks ago. Sir."
___"Four... weeks? That is... rather disappointing, Yirwé. I'd expected better from you.... You were so... highly recommended." The man in red smiled at his own evil joke. The man who had given Yirwé's name to the necromancer had done so in the highest room of the Tower; a torture chamber.
___"I sent out a scout two days ago. He should have reached the spot where Sijil was last seen by now, sir."
___"Well, then... what do I pay you for? SUMMON HIM!" The necromancer's sudden outburst startled Yirwé, who hastily nodded, and complied.
___Spreading his fingers in a wide arc, he chanted the scout's name twice, and blue light sprang from his hands towards the door. It opened, revealing the scout; a fit, though balding, man, dressed in clothes that seemed to have been made for a much smaller person than himself.
___He saluted Yirwé, then cringed when he saw the necromancer. He soon recovered, though, and bowed to the floor. Straightening up, he began his report. "I reached the village where Sijil was last reported last night, down south, sir; my lord," here he inclined his head towards Yirwé, and then the evil sorcerer, "and tracked him to the ruins of an old Black Knight guard tower. There I found the remains of an unnatural fire—the stones nearby were melted, and the dirt scorched to a bright white. I took a sample of each, my lord," he said, and set a pouch on the table before the lengthy lord. "I believe he was killed by copper, and burned by that and silver, from my observations." His report finished, the man stood at attention. The necromancer nodded, and Yirwé dismissed the frightened scout.
___The necromancer lifted the pouch and dumped its contents on the table. It had held a few small rocks that seemed to have been dissolved by an acid—not melted, as the scout had thought. The dirt was indeed a very bright white, glowing in the dimly lit chamber.
___The lord of the Tower spoke, his voice calm once more. "These were most certainly caused by Sijil's body.... And the scout was correct as to how he was killed. Apparently that fool Quolde knew that he was being traced.... and set a rearguard. Sijil was my third best man... well, if you could have called him a man. My third best, Yirwé... do you know what this means?"
___Yirwé gulped, nodded again, and spoke in a low tone, his voice hoarse, "The Wayfarer, my lord."
___The necromancer turned his face towards the fire; the wavering light reflecting on the red glass over his right eye. He turned back towards Yirwé, and said, in a voice both terrible and calm at once, "Exactly."

[TheCrazyModder]

(Ok then, how about meeting yours.)
Location: Slamor
A man bursts out of the nearby trees yelling "Aid! Aid!" He is being pursued by an elderly troll. He slashes at it with a jagged longsword, but to no effect. The troll bashes him with a huge fist and he flies backwards into a huse, hitting his head and slumping into unconsciousness. The troll lumbers toward him with huge, loping strides.
He tries to get up but is trapped by a piece of rubble. He yells once again "Help! Help me!"

[Lawkeeper]

Cliff was just an ordinary soldier in the Falcon armies. He was enlisted into the army when he was 19, and lived a diverse life.
The recent invasions of the Crusaders had been more vicious than ever before, they were pretty much unstoppable. Their necromancers could summon the dead to do their bidding, and the Crusader soldiers now had better weapons.

One day, Cliff and the rest of his Battalion were sent out to a remote town in the east of the country. There had been reports of attacks on travellers in the woods. The town was but a few miles away, and soon, the soldiers had arrived at the marketplace. Several people leaned out of the window or went outside to catch a glimpse of them. The mayor of the town lived in a big house on top of a small hill. He approached the two captains of the Battalion, and they talked about the attacks and what to do about them.
Cliff could not hear the conversation, because a young woman
asked him: "Eh, sir? You will stop the attacks, won't you? My sister was one of the people killed."
"But of course, young lady. You won't have to worry anymore by dusk, I promise," said Cliff.

But his promise would prove to be a hard one to keep...

To be Continued

[Lawkeeper]

Suddenly, a man came running out of the woods. His clothing was ragged, with rips and tears in them. "They're here! They're here! Lots of them!"
The man tripped over a small rock, and fell face down. One of the women quickly ran towards him, and tried to pick him up. Cliff followed the woman, and said: "Lady, I'll carry him. He's too heavy for you to do so."
"Thank you," she said. "Follow me. I'll open the door for you." She ran to one of the houses, and went inside, leaving the door open. Cliff walked towards the house with the unconscious man on his shoulders. The man was heavy indeed, Cliff realized. He carried him inside and laid him on the bed upstairs, as the lady asked him from the kitchen. She was making some tea for the unconscious man.
Upstairs, Cliff saw that one of the windows was still open. It started to rain outside, so he walked to the window to close it.

To be Continued

[Shadowviking]

After dragging him a short way, the guards blindfolded Mavvith, then started to walk in circles. Probably to keep me disoriented... he thought. Soon, however, the ground seemed to become lower, and the air felt significantly cooler. A cave! Time passed. The only sound was the echoing *clump-clump* of boots on stone. Suddenly, they stopped. The blindfold was removed.

"Ere, oo are you?"

Said a skinny man in his... why, he barely looked a teen! With a crown made out of scrap metal and coloured glass, the the kid looked like a peasant's aspiring son, not a bandit chief! Bricks, I can't hurt 'im!, thought Mavvith, But I've got to do *something*!

Just as he was thinking this, a look of terror crossed the lad's face. Oh come on, I can't be *that* scary, even to a child! Suddenly, a silver blur streaked toward the youth. "Hey, look out, kid!" he yelled, and tackle-dived the boy just in time.

The 'silver blur' turned out to be a paladin, who promptly yelled "Hey, Wolfpack! You should be glad I'm savin' yer brick in the first place! Now move aside, and let me finish my job!"
Mavvith yelled back. "He's just a kid! You can't kill 'im!"
The paladin growled, and said "He's a villun, and he should be eradicated, just like any other evil-doer."
"He's not evil! This is probably just what he's used to!"

The paladin stood there for a moment, then flipped up his visor -turning out to be a a friendly looking old man- and grinned.

"Congratulations..." he said. "You passed the test."

[Lawkeeper]

When Cliff looked outside through the window, he saw movement in the woods. Several men dressed in red and steel. Crusaders!
Cliff ran downstairs, and noticed he wasn't the only one who had seen the Crusaders. The soldiers had already formed a line, spearmen up front, swordsmen behind them. Cliff took his hatchet from his belt and joined the line of swordsmen. "Cliff! Where've you been?" one of them asked. "Helping that man who tripped. I laid him on a bed while that woman made some tea for him." They turned their attention to the advancing Cusaders again. More and more of them appeared, armed with spears, swords and clubs.
"Well, Cliff.. Nice knowing ya," said a soldier to the right of Cliff. "Tom, we're not gonna die today! If blood will be spilled today, it'll be theirs!"
Tom smiled. "Still the optimist, eh?"

To be Continued