Ramhir's Profile

“So, you want to buy a horse?” the grizzled Catfolk horse-master said.

“Yes. I'd like to buy a battlesteed and I'll pay whatever you ask,” the human replied.

“No. We never sell the Little Brothers of the Clan. Find a regular horse instead.”

“But my Lord wants a battlesteed and ...”

“No.”

“The Armored Avenger is dead!"

"Look at him! He looks like hamburger, but his admantium armor is untouched! What could have done that?”

The adventurer rode into the golden-hued glade, looking around. If the tribesman he had 'persuaded' to help him hadn't been lying, it should be here. Ah, there it is, he thought. A small pool, with no inlet or outlet. Dismounting, he looked into the crystal-clear water. He could see goldfish swimming around, and beneath them the bottom was covered with golden statues of men and women, mostly nude but some with a kilt or loincloth.

“I'm rich,” he exulted. “That damn tribesman didn't die in vain!” He stripped off his clothes and armor, noting in passing that the ground was mounded, here and there, with weapons, armor, and other items, mostly rusted or rotted by time, and dove into the pool to begin gathering up his wealth.

Silence fell over the glade as the new statue settled onto the others littering the bottom.