Epilogue - 015

Epilogue - 015

Turns since TBfGK: 2

There were horned sheep in the mountain hex where they stopped and waited for turn's end. Two of them did not last very long. The Transylvitians released their bats on one, which covered it like a fluttering leather trenchcoat and drank it dry. It bleated and honked its horns in pitiful agony, and fell silent.

Then the warlords themselves did something very similar to the other one.

Jillian could have hunted one down herself, but they left her a good meaty haunch to roast. After a moment's consideration, she took it, split it, and wedged it between two shale slabs at the edge of her campfire. She set her gwiffons on the remaining carcass, to suck the marrow and absorb the hooves and horns. It added one more day her provisions would last.

The Doombats also got to scrounge from the field, as the warlords then let them loose to chip and scree through the night, scouring the hex of bugs. One benefit of traveling with Transylvitians was sleeping in the field without getting bitten by mosquitoes. One drawback was that it occasionally rained something that wasn't weather.

Her companions/captors were in the mood to sing, after the meal. Without instruments, the four of them performed a broad repertoire of complex and harmonic traditional folk songs, with titles such as "Little Darlin'" and "Sh-Boom," and "Come and Go With Me." Curled up in her bedroll by a dwindling campfire, Jillian drifted off to sleep to a gentle ballad they called "Erf Angel."

Comic - Epilogue - 015