Chapter 128: Thunderpunks

Chapter 128: Thunderpunks

Some time ago, in the northern city of Grultain, the Council of Five held their official weekly meeting to chart the course of the grand group of adventurers known far and wide as The Righteous Guild of Thundering Punishers of Evil. To the officers’ dislike, most of the guild and everyone else had shortened that to 'Thunderpunks'.

The Council for this week consisted of the following people:

Princezz Valentina Argente: Guild Leader, priestess of Frey, Lord of Alfheim

"All Glory to the Light!...but anyone can apply, we aren't big enough yet to be picky."

StrongArm TheRighteous: Assistant Guild Leader, Paladin of the Light!

"Let's go smack some evil. Evil guys have more treasure."

McTeeth: Treasurer for the guild. Rumored to be a thief. Possibly serving the dark. Absolutely a kleptomaniac.

"Of course I should be treasurer! I'll keep our gold safe. If I'm not treasurer, I guarantee the gold isn't safe."

Aurelianna Songmaker: Council member representing the guild’s numerous adventurers.

"Not a Bard! Songs will be written about me, not by me!"

Rufus: Council member representing himself and two other people who did some crafting.

"Yeah, I'll fix your stuff...again. How do you people get so many holes in your armor?"

Val looked around the guildhall. At least it was large. Some of the other guilds were just renting out a room at an inn. After a successful adventure, they had rented out an unused room in the back of a grain warehouse. They always talked about fixing it up, but they had yet to get any really nice trophies, and banners and furniture were expensive.

Rustic glory. That's how she thought of it. Humble beginnings. She turned and was about to say as much to her sometimes-boyfriend, Strongarm, when he made his own opinion known.

"We're out of beer again, and why do we have to meet in this shithole? What's wrong with the tavern?" Strongarm sucked down the last fumes of his mug and got back to scouring his armor with sand to get rid of the rust before polishing it. The dwarf who had sold it to him had sworn it was magical and self-polishing. He'd paid extra for that.

A thin, dark-haired boy named McTeeth sneered at him, "Because the guild doesn't pay for your beer. And this room was a bargain. They were happy we cleaned it out and fixed it up. We even paid the rent early!"

"Strange how they got Not-Happy when the rent we'd paid, along with some other coins, disappeared a few days later," The speaker, Rufus, was the representative for the guild's crafters. There was a lot of push back for giving the crafters a a spot on the council, as there were only three of them out of the fifty-person-strong guild. Rufus had held firm though, and stressed that no voice on the council meant no repairs to their gear and nothing would be crafted. In the end, he got his way.

Besides being stubborn, Rufus was also stocky and well-muscled. Several of the fighters were in awe of the muscles he was gaining. He preferred to fight with a shield and war hammer when he had to go out with a group, and his hammer pulped goblin skulls with ease. As usual at council meetings, he was relaxing and sipping beer from a large, ornately carved, wooden mug.

StrongArm looked at his own mug, much smaller and empty, "Hey, Rufus, be a buddy and give me a refill, will ya?"

Rufus shook his head, "Nope. I told you, if you want beer then you should learn to brew your own. It’s a lot tastier than that crap at the tavern." He refilled his own mug, then closed the spigot and transferred the barrel back into his inventory, something that always made the others jealous.

"Can we move on? Why are we even meeting? I have places to be." The last member of the council was a dashing-looking beauty with red hair and form fitting leather armor. She wore a silver-hilted saber on her hip. Songmaker hated just sitting around. It was time that could be spent so many better ways - like dueling lessons or attending social events.

Val broached the main topic before things went off the rails, "I want to take the guild north. This area is too crowded."

Songmaker scoffed, "Yes, because there is nothing but small villages and peasants further north. We should move closer to the capital if we move."

One of the grooms walked up to McTeeth, "You're burning daylight. Best be on your way." Only Rufus saw a good-sized coin sack pass from the groom to the guild treasurer.

McTeeth yelled out, "Mount up folks. We've got a ways to go. Val will be explaining as we go."

Most of the guild thought they were headed on a two-day expedition into the Blackbriar Woods to hunt down a rogue band of werewolves. The council had agreed it was better to get people on their way and then explain that after the raid they would be heading further north rather than returning.

They moved quickly up the road, and past several members of the Legion manning a small tower. The guards at the check point waved them through. The Centurion inside came out at the sound of so many horses galloping past. "Decurion! Did you even check those people? We're out here because of the theft of several dozen of the Emperor's steeds, and yet I see you allowing a bushel of them past you with barely a wave."

The decurion just gave a small salute, "Begging the Centurion's pardon, but that party was preapproved for passage north. It's a guild of adventurers off to clear the lycanthropes out of the local woods. The locals have lost a lot of livestock and we've had some children go missing, Sir. Didn't seem right to delay them when word came down yesterday about them. The stolen horses are pure white, sir, these were all dark-colored."

The Centurion grumbled, "Fine, but keep me in the know about things like this in the future."

The Decurion saluted, "That I will sir." Which was highly unlikely. He was retiring in a few days, and planned to take his new wife quite far away from here before he settled down. The bag of gold hidden at home would come in handy for that.

The raid was quick and successful. It turned out that another guild had swept the woods only the month before and killed a number of the lycanthropes. So, the Thunderpunks had a fairly easy time of it, with only a few people to be de-cursed from wounds taken, and no deaths. Another piece of loot in their packs and a few core skill points had everyone in a good mood.

That ended when they got back to where the horses were being kept. Instead of fifty fine steeds, they were met by two of the grooms who had just finished hitching up mules to a half-dozen large wagons. The groom shook hands with McTeeth and the two shared a laugh. Again, Rufus noticed that a jeweled dagger seemed to pass from the larger man to McTeeth.

"Time to mount up folks. Let’s get eight of you to a wagon, there's plenty of room. Someone should sit and hold the reigns, but don't worry - just some free EP for driving a wagon. The mules will all follow the wagon ahead of them and I'll be in the front doing the driving. Val, maybe now is a good time to tell everyone your plan."

Val instead grabbed McTeeth by an ear and dragged him off the side of the road, "Where’s Little Surefoot?"

Rubbing his ear, McTeeth looked confused as he turned to his guild leader. "Who?"

"My elven-steed. I named him Little Surefoot! Where is he? What have you done?"

Mcteeth looked pained and guilty, "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry Val. I thought you understood. I only rented those steeds for a day so we could make good time up the road. And partly for you of course! I knew you'd just love a chance to ride a real elven-steed. You know we couldn't actually afford such a beautiful and rare creature! Why, the elves don't even really sell them!"

Val just sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Tell you what, Val, I'll send a message and ask if you can visit him. Might take a bit to get word back. You know how the Elder Race is with time. Just have some patience."

Val sniffed again, "I'm sorry for over reacting. I just loved him so much. You're a good friend, I know you did your best for me. Thanks. I'll go explain the plan to everyone."

"And I'll get us moving. Best to put as many miles behind us as we can."

After the small caravan was starting to move up the road, Rufus jumped into the seat next to McTeeth. The small man looked annoyed for a second, then resigned.

"I wanted to thank you for all the hard work 'teeth. You managed to put all of that together pretty fast. And the crafters especially appreciate the special disbursement from guild funds for their extra expenses they have from the move."

McTeeth bristled, then his shoulders slumped. It seemed nearly impossible to outwit Rufus when it came to hiding gold, gems, or anything of value. It was like he could smell them. "How much are we talking for your 'appreciation'. And yes, dammit, that was a lot of work to pull off."

"I'm not greedy. After all, you did do the hard work. I'll take 25% of your profit including the dagger, or 33% excluding it. We can settle up at some quiet point on the trip. Oh, and you need to use a better dye, or give it more time to dry. I noticed a few people getting brown stains on clothes and hands."

The small man winced. And was thankful he'd made a few payments to certain members of the Emperor's Legion.