Mudknuckles sitting quietly listening to his new companions learning names and habits as any up and coming spy should. But something different about this small band no one has tried to kill, eat, or manhandle this little halfling here. The Kurgans had released Mudnuckles in order to have him spy as best he could and report back at a later time. It has been far to long since he has seen no daily violence againt him, and he is seeming to prefer this to the Kurgan way of life scraping out a exsistance. Perhaps he will stay with this little band a bit longer. Also it has been too long since seeing another halfling at least not roasting on a spit. Even as Mudknuckle skulks off into the darkness to forage so needed supplies from the Kurgan scraps he feelsin his tiny heart that he may have found a new home.
Just as he gets a bit from the camp he hears the singing and sweet sounding voice of Caspar he scurries back like a small rodent better to not be seen nor heard. he gazes in amusement at the bard, his mind swirling to his childhood. That was a long time ago. Things are much harder now but the respite was much needed he note a bard would be a fine addition to a chaos warband, he chuckes to himself "band". Still this new group is proving to be more hospitable than his last.
Njord has always thought of himself as a slayer, of both men and of the ladies of the frozen north. Gretta, while no Countess Emanuelle in terms of looks, is certainly the finest looking woman Njord has ever seen in his short and brutal life. Perhaps emboldened by a night of drinking Dwarvish ale, Njord finishes packing the wagon and strides over to Gretta, smiling.
"Hoi there, woman!" he bellows in crude greetings, "You have hips and mane like horse. This good, ja?"
vs 31 (FEL): PASS!
Njord leans against the wagon, all muscle and bravado, stroking the beard on his chin into a fine point.
"Perhaps later me ride you?" He concludes with a jovial smile. "This proper Empire speak, ja?"
All around the camp their is silence as everyone waits to see Gretta's reaction.
"Boom, I'm not sure if I follow. A back entrance to a keep? What keep?"
Hearing Njord laying on the lines Albrecht turns bemused.
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"Mud snickers to himself at the silly Njord, he has a better chance at mounting the donkey or the Bard. Bards roll like that he thinks to himself."
Caspar woke to the sound of Gretta "packing" the wagon cart. Elves must not be percussionists he thinks to himself. As he got up, he realized must of slept on a pile of rocks. The night he HAD planned out ended with him sharing Gretta's bed. Unfortunately, Njord's drink must have been a little too strong for the singer as his head throbbed and he slowly remembered he hadn't intended to sleep on the rocks.
Caspar left the tent and walking into Njord's "courting" of Gretta. If he hadn't been hungover he'd probably be laughing right now. The fact that it was seeming to work kind of stung him. For about a second. This wasn't the first time he'd had the brutish type swoop in for the girl, and it wouldn't be the last, especially when camp followers were involved. Camp follower or not, she's still Caspar thought to himself Perhaps I SHOULD STEP in.
Caspar stumbled up to the cart, Njord, and Gretta. The camp still stood in silence as he approached. The two dwarves exchanged glances and grinned. It was about time the coward put on a REAL show! But Njord and Gretta wasn't Caspar's concern. No, the mead the dwarves had stored near the cart was far more tempting at this desperate hour.
As the morning creeps over the horizon Mud is a bustle of work his new found friends all still asleep from the evening before. He begins to pack the wagon and belongings with special care for everyone in hopes of not being killed for his carelessness as was his job in the Kurgan camp. He is also careful not to wake anyone at time standing motionless as a companion stirs in thier sleep, and once back in Shallyas rest continuing to clean and pick up from the previous night. I will make my decision after a encounter to see if they can protect him as well to see if he stays.
Lutke awoke to the sound of some unnecessarily noisy clumping and scraping sounds. Poking his head out of the tent, he sees that between Gretta and the halfling Mudnucles (who had chosen not to engage his requests for conversation the night before) most of the few general supplies were being packed haphazardly in the dwarves wagon. In fact, it looked like the tent the two had shared with Caspar had been taken down around Caspar as he was laying on his bedroll amongst an unfortunate pile of rocks. His bewildered expression at waking to the sky was enough to bring forth a chuckle from Lutke.
A moment later he heard Njord approach Gretta from the side while Albrecht who had been with him responded to something Krak had said. Lutke's jaw dropped when he heard the Njord's comments and questions for Gretta. His mouth sure seemed to spend a lot of time in that position lately. He snapped it shut with a small clack of teeth. Caspar seemed to have heard the exchange, and surprisingly his bleary eyes seemed to have narrowed and become more focused. Caspar painfully climbed to his feet and began to approach the would-be-casanova and his mark. The unfortunate hangover the minstrel had seemed to be lending an almost out of place appearance of menace to Caspar's normally smooth handsome face.
Lutke's eyes track Caspar as he approaches the large Norseman and the young mysterious camp follower. Lutke can't see Gretta's reaction to the large warrior's "advances" since her back is mostly to him. Lutke's eyebrows rise in pending surprise at Caspar's uncharacteristic display of bravado. Lutke wonders if Gretta has noticed Caspar yet, and if it will change her response to the big man.
"Oh my, this is going to be interesting," Lutke muttered to no one in particular. He estimated at Caspar's footspeed, he would reach the pair in less than 2.3 seconds. Quite interesting indeed, his mind said to itself.
Albrecht: Boom's head pops out from the back of the wagon and says..."Ze keep at Vulfenburg. I suggest zat ve make our vay to dat zo ve can link up vith the defenders in ze city. BUT, it iz your call. If you have another plan, zen ve can do dat. Either vay. I just vanted to let u know ve have dat option.
Njord, Gretta Gretta's anger does not seem to disipitate despite your...Ehem...charm Njord. Perhaps if she were in a better mood, your flattery might have wooed her as easily as your Norse women are wooed. In your land, your compliments have made you somewhat of a "ladie's man" in your tribe. This is the 1st time you have had the chance to try them on an empire woman.
Visibly angry she walks to and from equipment on the group and to the wagon to toss it in haphazardly seemingly ignoring you.
BUT WAIT! She stops in front of you (roll INT test) suddenly smiles and then slides up to you..."oh, you dont say? Do you work out or is all....this, natural?"
Caspar: You walk up to Njord and Gretta. your heart is pounding, but you lift your courage (or you think you do). It seems you may not have to do much since Gretta does not seem to be paying attention to the barbarian, BUT THEN...SHE SLIDES UP TO HIM!!!!(roll INT test)
Njord furrows his brow as his advances fall flat. Women of Empire not like horses... he thinks to himself, taking mental note. And then, as fast as Gretta's icy disposition left Njord in the cold, she suddenly seems to warm to him!
vs 33 (INT): SUCCESS!
Whatever it is that Gretta is up to, Njord appears to notice?
"Ah into Wolfenburg... Yes a passage in would be useful. Thank you Boom, I trust you can lead us to it when the time comes?
Alright! Get ready. We mean to march on to Wolfenburg as fast as possible. We will attempt to scout around the Kurgen horde. Lutke, I imagine if you'd want to set up some traps along the way once we've passed them by? I think anything we can do to slow them down along the way would be greatly desirable."
Albrecht finishes stowing any gear and awaits the rest of the party.
She immediately changes attitude to one of interest int he barbarian, but you notice that even through her advancements, she continues to glance (attempting to be ever so subtle) at Caspar.
"MM. Good."A weary Boom nods his head and then disappears behind the Wagon's flaps.
"RIGHT!" get yer rotty bottums a'bout anna get ter yer tendins! We'rra gonna get tah city anna drink inna proper pub!!"
"Wacha say tah dat Donkay?!"
"HURRRRMPPH SNORT SNUFFLE!!!" says Donkey as he shakes his head vigorously
"NAH donna give meh dat! Ah know wer yah dinkin and inna not gonna happen dis time! Werra gonna make it proper dis time!"
"HURRRMMMPH!!"Donkey rolls his eyes
Dark Lord Krak is there something you be needin me to do special, Oh dark master? Gather wenches for your tent, Or children for your table? or just stick to scavenging, Tell me oh great master as be begins to grovel and skulk before he catches himself and tries to make it look as if he knew all along what he was saying.... What do you want me to do?
vs 31 int
As Caspar walks by Njord and Gretta he really doesn't pay them any mind. He's not in the mood for anything she has to offer and if it weren't for Njord's grog his head would feel much better. His only thoughts were on his one true desire at the moment. Ale. He grabbed for a mug and, to Caspar's surprise, it had held up just about every metal pan, weapon, utensil, and maybe even a cannonball. Caspar shuddered as the metal objects fell out of the wagon on to every stone. His vision blurred and his ears rang like he'd been shot out of a cannon.
He finally reached the keg, his true love. He filled the mug and tasted it's sweet, sweet nectar. He drained it quick and then another. He fell to his knee as if to swear fealty. His head spun but he was starting to feel better after all.
Gretta and Njord continued to exchange words, only to be interrupted by Caspar. HHHHHHWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!! Caspar was now on both knees puking anything and everything he'd had in his stomach. The whole camp quickly turned their attention to the red headed bard. In between spurts of vomit, Caspar looked up and noticed everyone's attention was on him. "Oh! Don't mind me, just-----GGGGHHHHHWWWWWWWAAAAAAA!!!. Just a little sickness."
Gretta forgotten, Njord leans against the wagon and smirks as Caspar unloads the contents of his latest meal across the snow.
"Little man of Empire not good at holding drink," he chuckles, ruffling the back of Caspars hair. "There one cure only for such thing."
Njord grabs a clay jug and extends it to Caspar, "Hair of bear! Or is it dog? Empire speak strange to me..."
Leaving the jug with Caspar, Njord turns to look over the contents of the wagon. Once satisfied he readies himself for travel with his new found comrades. Sweeping his gaze over the gathered host, Njord has come to the conclusion that the fiery demonologist must be the leader of the Empire men.
"I like plan," Njord says to Albrecht, walking to the front of the vanguard of the small camp. "When time right, sword ready to kill many Kurgen!"
Njord slaps Albrecht hard across the back!
vs 41 (STR): FAILED!
Albrecht, you feel as if you've been hit by a battering ram, but you don't lose your footing. Njord grins at you, his face a mask of barbaric joviality.
"As for you small man," Njord says, pointing at Mudknuckles, "I require cloak to keep warm. Come, wrap arms around neck. We go!"
vs 31 (FEL): FAILED!
No one laughs. Someone coughs awkwardly. Njord chuckles regardless paying no heed that his foolish joke did not land. He seems as oblivious to the reactions of those around him as he is to fear on the battlefield.
Silly Barbarian, I sense a short life for him when the Kurgan come.
Caspar looks in the jug then sniffs it. It appears to be to be the same drink from last night. He takes a swig.
vs toughness.
Caspar quickly vomits it back up. "I don't mean to be so rude, Njord, but I don't think I have the stomach for this. I'm sure it works great for tanning leather though!"
Somewhat disappointed, Lutke shakes his head at Caspar's lack of fortitude. Gretta had displayed her usual fickle attention by first being frostier than the pre-morning air to the Norseman and the suddenly seeming to be more warmer than a tavern fire on a winter's night.
Int 37 v.
Lutke gathers up his gear and grabs the main tent pole as he steps out into the morning. The tent cloth begins to sag still held up partially by the makeshift tent stakes and ropes.
As Lutke begins to bring the rest of the tent down, he turns to Albrecht and says, "Aye. Of course I am willing to set whatever traps I can, but unless we're planning to take the time to fell some trees and cord some rope; I won't have too much material to make traps that will be able to kill or cripple a man." Lutke cocks his head and frowns in thought. "Unless we have spare glass containers that can be corked or sealed...and use any highly flammable liquids to..." Lutke trails off and you can see him doing some mental calculations.
Around this time, Njord is making his joke, one which would have made Lutke laugh for sure, but his mind was too busy thinking about what he might be able to do to assist.
Lutke's eyes seem to light up for a moment, but then he shakes his head. "Nevermind. It won't work." He eyes Albrecht thoughtfully. "Not unless you can put your fire in a bottle or make it cling permanently to a stone."
"EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" exclaims Gretta as she jumps back, her plan completely forgotten by Caspar's mess. She stands there looking incredulous as she hopld a part of her soiled dress. Seems Caspar's vomit was great...bits of it splashing on anyone nearby.
Krak looks at the hafling with a cocked eyebrow
"eerrrr, what? Master? Ya silly haflin, werra not inna kiln anna imma not inna position to be enne sote ofa master smith anna moment EN AYE?" But ya a right little ticker!" Tell ya wat, Ya clean de mess Red made anna I'll start a teachin ya a ting o two 'bout dis anna dat.
Krak winks at you and lays a large calloused hand on your shoulder.
You all gather the gear and the crisp winter air is chilling but refreshing.
The sun shines high in the sky and though it lifts your spirits, it does nothing to threaten the ice and snow that clings to the ground and hangs from the trees.
You had followed the road which shows signs of the Kurgen's passing.
(Decription challenge: describe the signs of the Kurgen)10xp.
Your earlier morning spirits slump a bit as the reality of the Kurgen presses on you more and more until it can no longer be ignored.
Some hours into the journey, Krak leads the wagon off the main roads and you soon find yourselves amoung an almost unrecognizable pass in the midst of hills sparse of vegitation.
The wagon wheels crackle over gravel and Donkey's footing is unerring.
Boom has joined Krak on the driving seat and hold a Blunderbuss. He has been mostly silent throughout the journey and seems to be keeping a sharp vigilance on his surroundings. Krak's silence is only broken by his directions to Donkey which it takes without question or complaint.
The lack of joviality between the dwarves may be more unnerving than anything thus far.
(Decription challenge: describe the lands inwhich Wolfenburg resides-how far from the empire, where the city sits on the landscape, etc).
25xp
OF WOLVES AND WOLFENBURG (DESCRIPTIVE CHALLENGE):
A map of Wolfenburg and the surrounding countryside can be found here: The Grand Principality of Ostland
Wolfenburg was the grand capital of Ostland (before being sacked), a city of some great strength who's high walls have long repelled the uncivilized attacks of the northern tribes and other threats that lurk in both the Middle Mountains and the Forest of Shadows. With the rising Storm of Chaos and the raining tears of Moorslieb, Wolfenburg is now but a shadow of it's former self.
Located on the easternmost tip of frozen earth near the snow covered peaks of the Middle Mountains, Wolfenburg lies deep in the center of the Empire. The city, like it's people, is a hardy place, built from countless years of strife and struggle. The lavish luxuries of cities such as Altdorf or Nuln are not found here, instead there is an almost spartan understanding to the construction of this place. Every building, every structure, serves a purpose and that purpose is the defense of the people of Ostland.
In times of trouble and war, the outlying communities would rally to the high walls of Wolfenburg. In years past this has proven to be a boon, allowing the defenders of the city to outlast any opposition.
But times have changed, and the forces of Chaos have struck with such impressive might that the entire northern part of Wolfenburg has fallen into utter ruin. In the darkness of night, strange fires burn and flicker across the rooftops of fallen buildings, horrible voices chant in black speak as unimaginable things lurk the shattered streets of this once proud place. Even Morr has forsaken this city of horror. They say at night the dead are swept clear of the streets by a strange green mist, only to rise again the following night. Is there any truth to these reports? Only time will tell.
Wolfenburg stands on the edge of a knife, fated to fall into ruin. All hope rests to the south and west, that somehow aid will come from Middenheim and that the Graf at the head of a mighty band of Knights Panther will ride forth to dispel the haunting horror that has come to roost in the torn gullet of this once proud city.
Njord walks at the head of the caravan, his high wool boots kicking up storms of snow as he trudges into the cold unknown. Scantily dressed, you take note that the bitter cold seems to have almost no effect on the barbaric Norseman as he trudges forward, humming a battle hymn to himself.
From time to time Njord will stop and drop to one knee, pressing his ear to the snow packed earth. Grunting, he stands and presses on, his eyes ever watchful to the horizon as he looks for any sign of the hated Kurgen.
"You're right Lutke. We will need time... I will speak with the dwarves. Perhaps when we camp for the night they can get you some materials and you can ready the traps as we start each morning. I'm sure Njord would have no qualms helping you."
Albrecht turns away and starts to resume the walk. Turning back to Lutke,
"And as for your question. No, I do not have that power... Not yet."
Caspar walks along the wagon kicking stones as he walks. He's feeling much better after the mess he made earlier. He begins to feel out of place once more. He's never been a fighter and his usefulness among the group is apparent enough as they begin to make plans. If I can't fight, might as well keep a look out to warn those of my friends who can. Noticing he's in conflicted territory, Caspar scans the area as the rest of the group discusses strategies and battle plans.
vs 31 Perception
Mud scouting ahead of everyone his small stature making it a tad easier, and his knowlege of the Kurgan in which he was a house boy of sorts for for so long he scuries to and fro. He peers over a snow covered hillock spying a cloud of dust in the distance across a desolate sparsely tree laden tundra.... A town? Or is the Kurgan camp of Of Master Gutcrush Brutepuke. Mud Scrurries back to Njord to give warning. Mud arrives quickly informing the moutain of a man.
Agi 43 sneak
Int 26 Per
Mudknckles: Scouting up ahead, you spot a small village. The band is close of Wolfenburg, but there is still a day or so ride through the hill passage that Krak is guiding the group. However, you do spot some movement among the town. It appears a figure quickly departs from a village hut and jumps upon a lone horse. Without lingering or further spotting you quickly run back to the group.
Caspar: Your wandering thoughts give way to the Hafling quickly running past you. An excited look on his face give no credence to his urgency, but your ears...attuned to sound picks up other movement.....hooves. You stop momentarily. YES, it is DEFINITELY horses hooves clacking upon stone.....and the sound is DEFINITELY coming towards you and your group. It is still a ways away, but they will be upon you in moments!
Njord...+25xp. Great job on the Wolfenburg description.
"Captain! It sounds like a rider approaches!" Caspar yells to Albrecht, slowing his pace slightly so the rest of the group can catch up to him.
THE WAKE OF WAR (DESCRIPTIVE CHALLENGE):
The Kurgen are a nomadic people by tradition, moving from place to place and rarely (if ever) settling in one location for long. It is primarily this distinction that separates them from their Norse cousins who dwell in walled villages and establish primitive keeps against the perils of the world.
Travelling in the wake of the Kurgen raiders, you can see that they are moving with haste. It appears little time is spent setting up camp, instead they seem to eat, sleep and travel on horseback. You can gather by the spacing of the infantry footprints that those Kurgen not fortunate or skilled enough to ride must have incredible endurance, running quickly to keep pace with their mounted counterparts.
The Kurgen slaves, not blessed with the barbaric endurance of their taskmasters, are often found dead alongside the path you travel, either from exhaustion or the calloused hands of their overseers. It is a grim site, eyes frozen wide with horror, hands outstretched to an uncaring sky.
You find it unlikely you'll gain ground on the Kurgen if they keep up this inhuman pace. Still, there is always the chance that they'll become mired in some campaign of bloodshed before Wolfenburg, ceasing their forced march long enough to sack a nearby farm or village.
One can only hope you'll have the strength and courage to stand against them when at last you do meet again...
Njord hears the red haired minstrel shouting, "Captain! It sounds like a rider approaches!"
In one single fluid motion, Njord draws Sverð Sigr, the Sword of Victory, from it's sheath. Swinging the sharp rust red steel around to bare, Njord shifts the weight of his stance, bounding down a snowy slope towards Caspar.
"Kurgen!?" Njord shouts, an anxious childlike look in his eyes.
vs 17 (INT/2): FAILED!
Seeing nothing, Njord lowers himself to the earth in an attempt to hear the movements of the enemy.
vs 17 (INT/2): FAILED!
"Unlikely it is Kurgen, they rarely use horses I believe. Caspar! A lone rider!? They may have news. Be ready men, should this go sour."
Albrecht will stand in the middle of the path and begin to mutter. A few arcane words and sparks crackle through the air. Albrecht seems to be readying his body to be the conduit necessary should this rider cause problems.
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"...look Magister, I refuse to do shoddy work. As I have said before, we don't have the time, the tools, nor the materials to set up any traps which would actually do more than inconvenience the Kurgen!" The frustration in Lutke's voice coming through despite his attempts to contain it. "I don't do inconvenience! Some of us aren't able to conjure what we need out of thin air."
The party has been traveling for several miles through Kurgen pillaged country; the signs of their foul rape of the land and its people evident. The argument between Albrecht and Lutke had started off as a simple request for Lutke's talents. Since then it had turned more into struggle of authority as the young wizard tries to assert his assumed leadership of the group by imposing his fantastic demand that Lutke cause fortifications and elaborate devices to spring up from the snow and frozen soil (at least this is how Lutke sees it). Lutke so far has stubbornly refused to comply, insisting that making speed to the legions' camp would be the better choice and not wasting time on "pointless exercises in futility".
Lutke still respected the wizard and deferred to his opinion on most things, but when it came to what he considered his own specialty, he didn't want to hear any contradictions. Especially not from someone who was barely older than himself.
"Look if I had 50 bear traps laying around, that would be one thing. But what do we have? Our gear necessary for survival, some ale, and components for the dwarves' weaponry which they are not going to give to me. We don't have the manpower needed to gather enough wood, rope, and metal needed let alone the time!" Lutke shook his head. "Snare traps are pointless unless they can cripple as well."
Whatever Lutke was going to say in response is forestalled, when
"Captain! It sounds like a rider approaches!"
Lutke can also see the small form of Mudnuckles running back from his scouting position. Albrecht turns and responds to the outcry of Njord and begans to chant strange words. Lutke finds himself fascinated as he begins to see small sparks shooting off of Albrecht's form like he is fresh wood just thrown into the fire. Realization of what may come ahead suddenly dawns on Lutke and he quickly takes a place close to the side of the wagon and tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He frees the crossbow from where it hangs on his backpack, and begins to work the crank necessary to load a bolt.
Mudknckles: perception check BEFORE you get back to the group.
Njord: +10xp for the challenge
Lutke: +10xp for the excellent description of your conversations
The thundering hooves now become apparent. The "path" disappears over a small hill. Though you cant see the rider, it is very apparent that it is only one horse, but that horse is at full gallop.
Krak leaves down from the wagon holding his repaired miner's Pick in both hands. He steps in front of Donkey
Boom stands upon the seat of the wagon and tries to get a better view
: failed perception check
"Krak....vere in the middle of the ze road..."
seeing Krak has already jumped off the wagon, Boom rolls his eyes and sits back down in the seat but keeps the blunderbuss ready
As the sound becomes more evident and Njord hears the approaching army of Kurgen he had been hoping for was in fact one rider, he makes a sprint towards the small hill in the hopes of intercepting the lone horseman.
vs 40 (Move x 10): FAILED!
The deep snows are a hindrance, slowing the otherwise panther like charge of the Norseman.
Donkey: Begins to snort and rear up. His eyes are alarmed. HARRRRRRRFFFFFFF SNORT SNUFFFLE!
Int 26 for perception
The rider is movie at breakneck speed and he is dressed as a man from the empire. A Grey cloak rippling in the wind behind him. The horse is foam flecked and sweating. Both have blood on them and both look ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED.
But this is not what really gets to you. It's the 6 forms racing along the landscape. At 1st they were hard to see, but as they jump from rock to rock and house roof to house roof, their lighting movement shows thier location. The white make-up or skin color would have otherwise easily blended them into the winter background.
From this distance, they are clearly humaniod, but no humaniod can move that fast.....in fact they seem to be GAINING!!! Their loping Ape-like strides are covering the ground in great leaps.
You can stay to spy more, run back, attack or hide. You decide, but do it quick before they overrun you!
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Barreling over the crest of the small hill ahead the group sees Mud flailing wildly as he runs in terror! Cresting a few yards behind him is the rider, The rider is moving at breakneck speed and he is dressed as a man from the empire. A Grey cloak rippling in the wind behind him. The horse is foam flecked and sweating. Both have blood on them and both look ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED. Mud Screams YETI !!!!!
Mud barrels past Njord and dives for cover under the wagon. digging into the hard packed ground for whatever stones he can find to perpare to help as best he can for their impending DOOM.
The Horse LEAPS over the small creast....snow, muds stones and foam from the horse's mouth spraying forth. The horse's eyes are WILD with terror and the man upon the horse is equally as terrified. They are both wounded and not stopping their gait.....straight at the wagon!! FAIL.
CRRRRAAAAAASSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There is a MASSIVE collision of horse, Donkey, dwarves and Wagon.
Everyone in the road (which is EVERYONE!!!) make a Agil test (+10 for Mudknuckle's warning!)
Dwarves are not known for their speed, but luckily for Krak the hafling's wild warning had alerted Krak that whatever was going on it was only moments away. It is all he can do...Arms flung out wide he launches himself into the snow alonside the road.
Boom is equally as lucky...the hafling's shouts of terror had made Boom stand up in the wagon's seat again and see that the rider and horse....WHERE ...COMING...RIGHT...AT..THEM!!!!
As he leaps from the wagon to the side of the road...
"GRIMLEY'S BALLS KRAK!!! I TOLD YOU TO MOVE ZE CAAAAARRRRTTT!!!"