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The Profane Dog
A collection of the best posts by our old forum members.
Westhaven Part 1
NIGHTMARES ARE CREATED BY THE MERE EXISTENCE OF PLACES LIKE THIS!!!!!
Having been scratched to hell by brambles and attacked by an assortment of
trees, bushes and a now-penned and traumatised pheasant, I have a better idea as
to the enormity of this project.
I have found a total of five currently habitable buildings, one of which is big
enough to house the pub/town hall. There are a further three buildings that need
a little work to make them fit for use.
I've found the river, about 3/4 of a mile from the village centre. Considering
it passes through a major city and at least two villages before it gets here, it
seems fairly clean - about the only thing around here that is!
All I can do now is try to work on some of the urgently needed repairs and wait
for Ahdkaw to catch up with me in a day or two. I hope it's only a day or two or
the beer I brought from the last city will have run out, as will my food, at
which point I face the prospect of pheasant and water - not a good
combination!!! Pheasant is no good without alcohol.
Right now though, I feel it's time for a relaxing drink and smoke before I have to get on and sort out my bedspace for the night. Think I'll move into the pub, that way at least I'll be on-hand for arrivals AND any trouble during the early days.
As Kaz perches on one of the few unbroken bar stools, quietly supping on her booze, a shadow slips from the grimy clutter of the pile of shattered bar furniture in the back corner. It silently places itself in the dying light that shuffles in through the one good window and watches as Kaz spins, suprisingly fast for someone who should be well drunk by now, to face it.
The figure is wearing a long ragged brown coat and a widebrimmed hat, both streaked with the yellow and red earth of the badlands out to the west of here. What she can see of his face, shadowed beneath the hat, looks just as dusty but the two six-shooters he holds, one in each hand, have a just-polished gleam as he raises them casually in her direction.
"Now you don't look like you're on the run from the law and you sure as hell ain't no runaway slave. I had you down as one of those rich eastern kids that come out here looking for thrills but then you're a little bit too damn fast for that aren't ya?"
He lowers the guns again and cracks a smile.
"So lady....who you running from?"
"I have NEVER had to run from anyone or anything, and I don't intend to start
now." she said, coldly looking the stranger over, trying to work out if he
actually posed a threat. She decided that he was just another fool trying it on
with what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a lone, defenseless, drunk female.
'Nobody that had any chance of being a threat would have guns that shiny.' she
thought, and pushed away from the bar.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, smiling sweetly. "Where are my manners!" She leant
further down the bar and picked up a bottle of beer and a clean tankard. Turning
back to the stranger she passed him the bottle, and cracked him round the side
of his head with the tankard, in one swift movement.
She removed his coat and checked to see if he was carrying any other weapons.
Satisfied, she went and got the collar and chain she'd fastened to the bar in readiness for the watch-werewolf. She fastened it round the strangers neck and, satisfied he was going nowhere, went and sat down, skinned up and finished her beer.
Fifteen minutes later, as he started to regain conciousness, Kaz stood up and
walked over to him. She stood on the chain, close to the collar, effectively
pinning him to the floor. Her steel toe-cap just under his nose.
"Shall we talk about who YOU are and why you think it's a good idea to sneak up
on a lady?" she said, in a calm voice. She smiled at him as realisation of the
full extent of his predicament slowly dawned on him.
Penfold looked up, this lady really was pretty fast for a drunken stoner. She shouldn't have assumed that a chain would stop a stranger though. Not with all the ex-slaves in these parts. She was standing way too close to him and a chain meant to keep a werewolf at the bar was far too long to keep this prisoner from being trouble.
The loop of chain caught her across the side of the head before she had a chance to react, "Sorry lady, I do so hate to hit a woman" Penfold muttered as he unlocked the collar and collected his coat and guns.
Not bothering to search her he retreated across the room when she came round he spoke again "I reckon we could fight all night at this rate so I say we call it a draw and save us both the bruises. Anyhows the names Penfold and I'm a bounty hunter, now what brings you out here?"
"Tranquility, solitude. Why would a bounty hunter be out here? There's no bounty on my head and nobody else for three days hard ride, at least." Kaz replied, her interest peaking with the unexpectedly rapid recovery from the vicious blow she had dealt Penfolds head.
"I merely seek space and time to provide a sanctum where those with the will to learn, can do so. I have a good feeling about this place and choose to stay here awhile and see what becomes of it. You, my friend, have the option of either spending the night within the 'confines' of WestHaven and then resuming your journey or staying and being a key influence within the education of those who will, inevitably, pass this way and become enthralled enough to wish to learn. It is up to you. Now, however, it grows late and I feel I must take my leave. Please, make yourself as comfortable as possible for the night. If you choose to stay, I shall speak with you again. If not, safe travels my friend."
Kaz spun on here heel, collected a couple of bottles of beer and headed for the stairs and bed, confident that any conflict with Penfold had been resolved.
Looking across this vast land you could almost believe it was endless, walking across it didn't just make you believe it, it literally forced the reality of it upon you.
Strange then, that after only one and a half days of travelling across this lush landscape, had the traveller arrived at the end of that endless lushness, to see what stretched before him. Hot, dry, dusty, dead desert. The distinction between the two couldn't have be more extreme, a sharp line cutting across the world with the precision of a butcher.
He noticed a sign just inside the desert, and wandering closer, read,
At least now I know I'm going the right way now, he thought dramatically.
A mere two hours later, he arrived at the town Kaz had mentioned all those days ago, and ye gods, it was exactly how she had said it was, abandoned. There were several buildings for sure, but mostly in a dilapidated state, they would need a lot of work to get into top condition.
The bar was quiet. Possibly too quiet. He looked in through a window, it was dusty and cobwebbed in there. Had he got the right place? He checked his map, but soon discovered he was never given a map. Paranoia set in.
I need to sit down and get a beer, he thought, and then barged in through the door as loudly as possible trying to sound hard, just in case.
Kaz heard the sounds of someone crashing head-first through the front door of
the pub.
'Ahdkaw!' she thought, as she reached for her jeans and shirt.
'Typical!! He turns up AFTER all the shit I had with Penfold. Why does that name
always summon an image of mice??!'
There was keening sound. The sort that one might expect to hear from an airplane or bomb falling out of the sky, on account that the volume and urgency of the sound grew, louder, and louder until with a great deal of rattle, breaking, and whatnot, it stopped on the floor of the pub.
It was oddly enough wearing a brown three-piece-suit and lighting up a cigarette while dusting itself off.
However, it was obviously no longer a sound and was rather, or at least appeared to be, a man, or soemthing else wearing a man-suit. Regardless of these allegedly disputed facts, it stood up and started making odd sounds which vaguely resembled "Ay ay kay mein owwz et gone ay"
Shortly before finding something to plant it's alleged rump upon and begin polishing a wicked-looking massdriver apparatus.
Kaz looked at the heap of rags held together by the distinct stench of stale beer and gave it a wide birth in the hope that it would appear more humanlike when the smell died down a bit. She turned round taking in the scene of the aftermath of what had, all in all, been an eventful and rather busier second night in WestHaven.
Ahdkaw was slumped in one corner, still holding an unopened bottle of beer and what looked suspiciously like a half-eaten bacon sandwich??!!
'What a night!' she thought, carefully picking her way across the floor. There was no sign of Penfold though. 'Perhaps he decided not to stick around, after all.' she thought with a touch of disappointment mixed with a distinct lack of suprise. 'His loss!' she decided, then decided to blame Ahdkaw and his 'grand' entrance the night before!
She walked over to where he was slumped in the corner, took the beer from him, opened it and connected her steel toe-cap with the top of his leg and laughed to see his face reflect the agony his body must have just suffered.
"Morning!" she bellowed, bent just a couple of inches from his ear.
