Welcome to Fargun
Ned the Street Monkey awoke in a pool of his own filth, with gutter water sloshing past his face. Stumbling to his feet, nursing his bruises from last night’s brawl, he staggered off in search of some clothing.
Tak jerked at chain that held him to wall. All he done was smash up someone who said Tak be weak! Must be crime to prove Tak not liar.
A brief chat with an op-shop lady netted Nedly some leathers, and a contact for a community worker to find himself a job. There was some kind of crowd lining the main street, waiting to see the ‘New Army’ or somesuch. Soon enough, six big brutes walked past, stepping in perfect time.
A massive jerk ripped the chain from the wall, the spikes moulded into the links tearing gashes across his back. The left comes out, then the right. With the chains still dangling from his manacled wrists, Tak let the other prisoners out before him. The sound of a brief scuffle let Tak know he made a good move, and he left the guardhouse in search of pants, knocking aside a small goblin on his way out.
Tak soon learnt that the king’s New Army were to be seen walking past soon. He waited their arrival.
Like men made of armour they were, moulded plates of wood, stone, and metal creating a humainoid figure. Six, in line, kept heads and eyes straight ahead, marching to an unheard drum. Ignoring the town and the locals, they kept travelling the road from Cantuck, to Actus, the capital.
