The Hood-Chapter Three, Scarletta
A sharp pain.
A tiny foot was thrust into his ribs. Lachlan launched to his feet to throttle the owner of the foot. He discovered that instead of a Brass Knight the foot belonged to a comely wench. She had long red hair and she wore a golden corset with a ruffled skirt that was raised in the front. The design was such that it showed off her porcelain pale shapely legs. Her twinkling emerald eyes glinted with mischief beneath her arched eyebrows. As stunning as she was it was not enough to detract Lachlan’s attention from her gold plated pistols which were pointed at his head.
Then the goddess addressed him,“You my dear, are a conundrum, you have no money upon your handsome person and yet your clothing is fine. My, my- who could you be? I know, you must be none other than the dread Lord Lachlan himself! “ She wore the expression of parodied shock.
Lachlan could not attack her, she was a woman and he the rifle he took from the Brass Knight was on the ground. He tried to use charm on the young woman, but his honey words were only greeted with her twisted mocking laugh. “My pretty boy- I am afraid that you are not my type, I like my amours to be slightly more feminine than yourself. Now if you were a stunning woman, the only words you would need would be hello. As it stands- you are out of luck.” Lachlan had heard of these women who would rather the company of other woman but until now he had never met one and he found the experience intriguing to say the least.
She then did something really unexpected and put her pistols down. “I would not worry my Poppin- Jay, if I took you to Harald, I am afraid he would kill me first before he took his pleasure on you.” Her grin deepened and her dimples played havoc on his female deprived senses. “Prince Harald has always found me to be, shall we say, a vexation. My name is Scarletta. Now, since we share enemies then I will share my friends with you- come, follow me." Lachlan's compliance was rewarded with the view of her frilled hips swaying below her curtain of silky titan hair.
She then took Lachlan to her camp in the forest where he discovered that she was not alone. Her companions however were odd. There was Gurd, a massive giant of a moustached man who proclaimed himself the greatest blacksmith in the world and since he held a massive iron hammer- Lachlan decided to take him at his word. There was also an overweight monk who was chewing on a joint of venison while looking forlorn.
The odd monk licked the fat from his chubby digits to shake Lachlan’s hand. Lachlan inquired as to why the monk seemed so desolate and Scarletta replied “Timon is feeling guilty, the only thing the monk enjoys more than guilt is pleasures of the flesh- so he shifts between gluttony, lust, guilt and despair every hour of his life.” Despite the strangeness of the crew the oddest member of the assortment was a ginormous metal robot. The steel titan was lying flat on the forest floor and not moving an inch.
Scarletta, the attractive lesbian thief explained that this band of misfits was Avalon’s resistance force against the tyrant Pretender. Lachlan inspected this unlikely band of warriors:
Scarletta- a gun toting rogue with unparalleled daring and a serious adrenaline addiction.
Gurd,- a obsessed blacksmith with seven children, who used the money they gathered from thievery to support his beloved family.
Timon- an emotionally confused gluttonous holy man.
There was not much for Lachlan to work with but it was a start.
Lachlan asked Gurd if he could have a look at his giant hammer, the thing was massive. “How do you lift that thing?” Gurd jumped up and down like an excited child,
“See this steam powered motor on my back, it is a hydraulics unit- it allows me to wield this heavy thing with ease, cool yes?” Lachlan, frankly amazed, could do no more than nod in stunned astonishment at the ingenuity.
Lachlan did not get to talk to Timon much as Gurd with excitement, and a little too much force, pulled him toward the prostrate giant robot. Gurd, with pride, showed Lachlan every cog and rivet of his giant mechanical marvel he name Steele. Clearly the blacksmith loved his contraption. He explained however that he had not yet found a power source that could keep it running long enough to be of real use. Lachlan excused himself and went to speak to the monk who was drowning his guilt in a flagon of honey mead.
With a little prodding Lachlan found out Timon's story. Timon the monk was a healer who had rejected the church when he found out that they were giving money to King Harald rather than the poor. He would not have anything to do with the band’s thievery but he was a great healer and he was the bands only contact with the outside world. Lachlan did not find out much more as they were interrupted by the lovely Scarletta.
Scarlettta sat down a little too close for comfort for Lachlan and explained that the band of misfits was going to kill the Pretender as soon as they found some oil. She painted a picture of Steele stepping on every enemy she could conjure. Her descriptions became out right blood thirsty when she discussed, in lurid detail, what Steele would do to The Pretender. It was obvious that Scarletta had a personal issue with the regent.
Lachlan listened to their plan with patience and then he pointed out that even if they killed the king their troubles would not be over. “The workers hate King Lincoln, if he were to come back to Avalon now they would likely tear him apart. If you kill The Pretender they would find another who would take his place. No, before we attack the Pretender we must win the hearts of the workers. Without them Avalon is lost.”
Scarletta allowed a flicker of concern to cross her face. “How are we to win their hearts and minds? Women who have my tastes are burned at the stake. Gurd, though I love him, is too taken with his toys to focus long enough win the mind of a squirrel. And TImon is, well... Timon.” Timon looked up at his name, Scarletta spying the thickened liquid oozing from his flabby lips, scrunched her nose in disgust. Timon wiped his face with a hurried movement that resulted in his robe tearing.
Timon inspected Lachlan “He could do it- he is a warrior lord, a champion of King Lincoln and God Almighty- I mean right now he looks a right mess but still there is something in his eyes…” Timon stalled as he stared into the cold steel eyes of Lachlan. Scarletta interrupted Timon’s musing “It is doable, they could see him as a hero- given the right clothes and reputation, clothing is easy enough but how do we get the workers to listen?”
“Feed them.” Everyone turned to look at Gurd. The big man took a deep breath “Workers want food. Anyone who finds a way to give them food will win their hearts at least until their stomachs grows empty again.” Lachlan churned their plan over in his head. If there was one truth that appeared universal it was that people heard what they saw. If he put on a good enough show they would listen to hiim.
“It is possible that if we steal from the wealthy Brass Knights. Goodness knows they have enough money since they have taken over the Nobles' wealth and estates. If we then redistribute the money to the poor. Of course we must not profit from it ourselves. Yes, we would garner support- but how do we turn the workers into King’s Men?” Lachlan mused.
Timon suddenly jumped to his feet then sat down to gather his breath from the sudden exertion. After a few deep breaths he said “Harald, likes to count money, every cent that crosses his greedy palms is accounted for, if we can get his ledger- we might be able to convince the people that it was Harald who caused their misery and not the great King Lincoln.”
The band, Avalon’s resistance fighters, began their preparations. Gurd sewed Lachlan’s outfit. Gurd needed to take on the chore after Scarletta implied she would gut any man who suggested she pick up a needle. Gurd however employed his sense of craftsmanship to this new creation of his and a black leather all in one outfit with a full face mask emerged.
Where the eyes should have been Gurd had placed two lenses. These lenses had a variety of attachments allowing for seeing in low light, tinted glasses to protect from glare and magnifying glasses to see great distances. With the shifting of small levers, Lachlan would be ready for any viewing emergency. The patent leather boots were stunning but the most impressive element of all was the inlaid retractable sword they spring from concelement and into Lachlan's awaiting hands making it appear as if they come from thin air. The band practiced and soon they were a synchronised crew with clockwork precision. They took great care to identify wealthy targets and they focused with acuity on the steam powered carriages ridden by the Brass Knights.
It was not long before they managed heist after heist, the more Knights they took down the more that came. The bandits were drowning in seized brass armour. They stole enough cash to benefit many of the workers who lived in the regional outposts. All of a sudden the stretch of the King’s Highway that ran through Lyre Forest was not safe for any Brass Knights. Every time they entered the forest they were attacked, stripped and stolen from. As a final humiliation they were painted baby pink and left to drag their shameful naked bodies back to Vector. Vector debriefed every one of his baby pink warriors only to hear the same story.
"Ghosts in the forest", some of their victims called them. Some of the Knights said that "There must be a hundred men in the band of thieves- A secret army." There was only one man that was ever sighted and they called ‘The Hood.’ The men described him as an unparalleled fighting legend in a leather one piece with giant goggles that hid his eyes. The attacked knights recalled with horror the retractable swords that adorned his arms. No person could seem to identify who ‘The Hood’ might be.
If this wasn’t enough to vex Vector and Harald, tales began to spread from one end of Avalon to the other about a hooded man who gives you money in your sleep. Furthermore Timon the fat monk kept popping up in regional Gin Houses. Using his gift for story telling to grow the legend of ‘The Hood’ steals from the Brass Knights who are greedy and gives to the poor outpost workers, all in the name of good King Lincoln.
Harald slithered about the room in impotent fury. He would have liked to burn each of these remote outposts to stop their foul mouthing’s from breaching the great steel walls of Charlotte and his lovely fortress. Harald calmed himself, he needed the regional workers. Any acts of terror would undermine his chances at being the true king to the Throne of Avalon. At this moment he needed to be perceived as kindly and a man of peace.
It was Vector who came up with the manner in which they could solve their problem. “We need to bring The Hood here, to us, to Charlotte. Let us hold great games with a grand prize that the outlaw cannot resist.” Harald, tapped his fingers on the arm of the Throne.
“Not Guldens! I cannot afford to lose any money- I will need every cent to get rid of my holier than thou stupid big brother. But there is some rare refined oil that was found off shore. Just when my scientist thought there was not a drop of oil left in Avalon- another source has been found. People would do anything for oil.”
Oil was indeed a prize, Airships, motorised cars and other luxuries would only operate on oil and it had not been plentiful for a long time. The person who needed oil the most was King Lincoln. With it he could put his army in the air in his great Portable Fortress and take Palladium Central Command once and for all. Any man loyal to King Lincoln would do whatever it took to get their hands on the black gold.
When word reached Lyre Forest, Lachlan otherwise known as ‘The Hood,’ started hatching plans. If he could get that oil he could use it to fuel the enormous robot Steele. He could give most of it to King Lincoln. However some must be used for the robot as he would need Steele if he and his people were to storm Charlotte. Only with the metal man could they have any chance at getting their hands the all-important ledger. With this they would clear King Lincoln’s name and of course restore Lachlan’s honour. With his honour intact his future with Adina would be secure. He then announced to the others his intention to compete. “It is a trap of course.” Scarletta pointed out.
Timon nodded then spoke. “In the monastery we had huge black rats, we set traps of course but the beasts were so clever they took the cheese, set off the trap but escaped with their lives- the rats got bigger and healthier. Instead of being their bane we became their benefactors.” Lachlan smiled at the fat monk who missed the look of admiration because he was fixated on staring at Scarletta’s pert behind. She of course spotted him and once again Timon assumed the demeanor of the guilt ridden holy man.
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CHAPTER THREE- CLICK HERE TO VISIT CHAPTER FOUR
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A tiny foot was thrust into his ribs. Lachlan launched to his feet to throttle the owner of the foot. He discovered that instead of a Brass Knight the foot belonged to a comely wench. She had long red hair and she wore a golden corset with a ruffled skirt that was raised in the front. The design was such that it showed off her porcelain pale shapely legs. Her twinkling emerald eyes glinted with mischief beneath her arched eyebrows. As stunning as she was it was not enough to detract Lachlan’s attention from her gold plated pistols which were pointed at his head.
Then the goddess addressed him,“You my dear, are a conundrum, you have no money upon your handsome person and yet your clothing is fine. My, my- who could you be? I know, you must be none other than the dread Lord Lachlan himself! “ She wore the expression of parodied shock.
Lachlan could not attack her, she was a woman and he the rifle he took from the Brass Knight was on the ground. He tried to use charm on the young woman, but his honey words were only greeted with her twisted mocking laugh. “My pretty boy- I am afraid that you are not my type, I like my amours to be slightly more feminine than yourself. Now if you were a stunning woman, the only words you would need would be hello. As it stands- you are out of luck.” Lachlan had heard of these women who would rather the company of other woman but until now he had never met one and he found the experience intriguing to say the least.
She then did something really unexpected and put her pistols down. “I would not worry my Poppin- Jay, if I took you to Harald, I am afraid he would kill me first before he took his pleasure on you.” Her grin deepened and her dimples played havoc on his female deprived senses. “Prince Harald has always found me to be, shall we say, a vexation. My name is Scarletta. Now, since we share enemies then I will share my friends with you- come, follow me." Lachlan's compliance was rewarded with the view of her frilled hips swaying below her curtain of silky titan hair.
She then took Lachlan to her camp in the forest where he discovered that she was not alone. Her companions however were odd. There was Gurd, a massive giant of a moustached man who proclaimed himself the greatest blacksmith in the world and since he held a massive iron hammer- Lachlan decided to take him at his word. There was also an overweight monk who was chewing on a joint of venison while looking forlorn.
The odd monk licked the fat from his chubby digits to shake Lachlan’s hand. Lachlan inquired as to why the monk seemed so desolate and Scarletta replied “Timon is feeling guilty, the only thing the monk enjoys more than guilt is pleasures of the flesh- so he shifts between gluttony, lust, guilt and despair every hour of his life.” Despite the strangeness of the crew the oddest member of the assortment was a ginormous metal robot. The steel titan was lying flat on the forest floor and not moving an inch.
Scarletta, the attractive lesbian thief explained that this band of misfits was Avalon’s resistance force against the tyrant Pretender. Lachlan inspected this unlikely band of warriors:
Scarletta- a gun toting rogue with unparalleled daring and a serious adrenaline addiction.
Gurd,- a obsessed blacksmith with seven children, who used the money they gathered from thievery to support his beloved family.
Timon- an emotionally confused gluttonous holy man.
There was not much for Lachlan to work with but it was a start.
Lachlan asked Gurd if he could have a look at his giant hammer, the thing was massive. “How do you lift that thing?” Gurd jumped up and down like an excited child,
“See this steam powered motor on my back, it is a hydraulics unit- it allows me to wield this heavy thing with ease, cool yes?” Lachlan, frankly amazed, could do no more than nod in stunned astonishment at the ingenuity.
Lachlan did not get to talk to Timon much as Gurd with excitement, and a little too much force, pulled him toward the prostrate giant robot. Gurd, with pride, showed Lachlan every cog and rivet of his giant mechanical marvel he name Steele. Clearly the blacksmith loved his contraption. He explained however that he had not yet found a power source that could keep it running long enough to be of real use. Lachlan excused himself and went to speak to the monk who was drowning his guilt in a flagon of honey mead.
With a little prodding Lachlan found out Timon's story. Timon the monk was a healer who had rejected the church when he found out that they were giving money to King Harald rather than the poor. He would not have anything to do with the band’s thievery but he was a great healer and he was the bands only contact with the outside world. Lachlan did not find out much more as they were interrupted by the lovely Scarletta.
Scarlettta sat down a little too close for comfort for Lachlan and explained that the band of misfits was going to kill the Pretender as soon as they found some oil. She painted a picture of Steele stepping on every enemy she could conjure. Her descriptions became out right blood thirsty when she discussed, in lurid detail, what Steele would do to The Pretender. It was obvious that Scarletta had a personal issue with the regent.
Lachlan listened to their plan with patience and then he pointed out that even if they killed the king their troubles would not be over. “The workers hate King Lincoln, if he were to come back to Avalon now they would likely tear him apart. If you kill The Pretender they would find another who would take his place. No, before we attack the Pretender we must win the hearts of the workers. Without them Avalon is lost.”
Scarletta allowed a flicker of concern to cross her face. “How are we to win their hearts and minds? Women who have my tastes are burned at the stake. Gurd, though I love him, is too taken with his toys to focus long enough win the mind of a squirrel. And TImon is, well... Timon.” Timon looked up at his name, Scarletta spying the thickened liquid oozing from his flabby lips, scrunched her nose in disgust. Timon wiped his face with a hurried movement that resulted in his robe tearing.
Timon inspected Lachlan “He could do it- he is a warrior lord, a champion of King Lincoln and God Almighty- I mean right now he looks a right mess but still there is something in his eyes…” Timon stalled as he stared into the cold steel eyes of Lachlan. Scarletta interrupted Timon’s musing “It is doable, they could see him as a hero- given the right clothes and reputation, clothing is easy enough but how do we get the workers to listen?”
“Feed them.” Everyone turned to look at Gurd. The big man took a deep breath “Workers want food. Anyone who finds a way to give them food will win their hearts at least until their stomachs grows empty again.” Lachlan churned their plan over in his head. If there was one truth that appeared universal it was that people heard what they saw. If he put on a good enough show they would listen to hiim.
“It is possible that if we steal from the wealthy Brass Knights. Goodness knows they have enough money since they have taken over the Nobles' wealth and estates. If we then redistribute the money to the poor. Of course we must not profit from it ourselves. Yes, we would garner support- but how do we turn the workers into King’s Men?” Lachlan mused.
Timon suddenly jumped to his feet then sat down to gather his breath from the sudden exertion. After a few deep breaths he said “Harald, likes to count money, every cent that crosses his greedy palms is accounted for, if we can get his ledger- we might be able to convince the people that it was Harald who caused their misery and not the great King Lincoln.”
The band, Avalon’s resistance fighters, began their preparations. Gurd sewed Lachlan’s outfit. Gurd needed to take on the chore after Scarletta implied she would gut any man who suggested she pick up a needle. Gurd however employed his sense of craftsmanship to this new creation of his and a black leather all in one outfit with a full face mask emerged.
Where the eyes should have been Gurd had placed two lenses. These lenses had a variety of attachments allowing for seeing in low light, tinted glasses to protect from glare and magnifying glasses to see great distances. With the shifting of small levers, Lachlan would be ready for any viewing emergency. The patent leather boots were stunning but the most impressive element of all was the inlaid retractable sword they spring from concelement and into Lachlan's awaiting hands making it appear as if they come from thin air. The band practiced and soon they were a synchronised crew with clockwork precision. They took great care to identify wealthy targets and they focused with acuity on the steam powered carriages ridden by the Brass Knights.
It was not long before they managed heist after heist, the more Knights they took down the more that came. The bandits were drowning in seized brass armour. They stole enough cash to benefit many of the workers who lived in the regional outposts. All of a sudden the stretch of the King’s Highway that ran through Lyre Forest was not safe for any Brass Knights. Every time they entered the forest they were attacked, stripped and stolen from. As a final humiliation they were painted baby pink and left to drag their shameful naked bodies back to Vector. Vector debriefed every one of his baby pink warriors only to hear the same story.
"Ghosts in the forest", some of their victims called them. Some of the Knights said that "There must be a hundred men in the band of thieves- A secret army." There was only one man that was ever sighted and they called ‘The Hood.’ The men described him as an unparalleled fighting legend in a leather one piece with giant goggles that hid his eyes. The attacked knights recalled with horror the retractable swords that adorned his arms. No person could seem to identify who ‘The Hood’ might be.
If this wasn’t enough to vex Vector and Harald, tales began to spread from one end of Avalon to the other about a hooded man who gives you money in your sleep. Furthermore Timon the fat monk kept popping up in regional Gin Houses. Using his gift for story telling to grow the legend of ‘The Hood’ steals from the Brass Knights who are greedy and gives to the poor outpost workers, all in the name of good King Lincoln.
Harald slithered about the room in impotent fury. He would have liked to burn each of these remote outposts to stop their foul mouthing’s from breaching the great steel walls of Charlotte and his lovely fortress. Harald calmed himself, he needed the regional workers. Any acts of terror would undermine his chances at being the true king to the Throne of Avalon. At this moment he needed to be perceived as kindly and a man of peace.
It was Vector who came up with the manner in which they could solve their problem. “We need to bring The Hood here, to us, to Charlotte. Let us hold great games with a grand prize that the outlaw cannot resist.” Harald, tapped his fingers on the arm of the Throne.
“Not Guldens! I cannot afford to lose any money- I will need every cent to get rid of my holier than thou stupid big brother. But there is some rare refined oil that was found off shore. Just when my scientist thought there was not a drop of oil left in Avalon- another source has been found. People would do anything for oil.”
Oil was indeed a prize, Airships, motorised cars and other luxuries would only operate on oil and it had not been plentiful for a long time. The person who needed oil the most was King Lincoln. With it he could put his army in the air in his great Portable Fortress and take Palladium Central Command once and for all. Any man loyal to King Lincoln would do whatever it took to get their hands on the black gold.
When word reached Lyre Forest, Lachlan otherwise known as ‘The Hood,’ started hatching plans. If he could get that oil he could use it to fuel the enormous robot Steele. He could give most of it to King Lincoln. However some must be used for the robot as he would need Steele if he and his people were to storm Charlotte. Only with the metal man could they have any chance at getting their hands the all-important ledger. With this they would clear King Lincoln’s name and of course restore Lachlan’s honour. With his honour intact his future with Adina would be secure. He then announced to the others his intention to compete. “It is a trap of course.” Scarletta pointed out.
Timon nodded then spoke. “In the monastery we had huge black rats, we set traps of course but the beasts were so clever they took the cheese, set off the trap but escaped with their lives- the rats got bigger and healthier. Instead of being their bane we became their benefactors.” Lachlan smiled at the fat monk who missed the look of admiration because he was fixated on staring at Scarletta’s pert behind. She of course spotted him and once again Timon assumed the demeanor of the guilt ridden holy man.
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CHAPTER THREE- CLICK HERE TO VISIT CHAPTER FOUR
HOME