Brennan & Smythe Episode 3: There's More!

My computer took a rocket-powered, stratospheric shit recently, so today's post might be a bit brief. The fate of my computer does, however, lead fortuitously to our sponsor for today's episode: Murphey's Law. Do you miss feeling like the whole world is conspiring against you? Is the ease of success making you soft? Don't worry! Murphey's Law is here to help. Watch helplessly as things go fuck-headed for no apparent reason. Feel that comforting old panic as your best laid plans are torn asunder by the vagueries of fate. Murphey's Law : Because fuck you! Now on with the show.



The death cast a pall upon our small party as we searched the village and questioned its residents. They were kindly folk, clearly as disturbed by this morning's morbidity as my companions. Patrick managed to calm one of the older gentlemen sufficiently to extract the man's reckoning of the likely course of Jenkin's demise. The village was occasionally troubled by forest folk, madmen who lived in the hills and sustained themselves via a hardy regiment of banditry and rape.

Apparently, they would come to a home in the night, drug the residents, and then proceed to torture the menfolk and drag the women to the hills to cater to their sinister impulses. The man had many theories regarding the reasons for such sadism; they worship evil gods, they use nefarious magics to make themselves immortal, simply that they hate good folk and revel in making them suffer. Standard Boogyman folklore, but given the circumstances, not to be disregarded out of hand.

Our search of the village bore little fruit, and some of our compatriots had started to grow concerned about the merit of our expedition. However, between Patrick appealing to their better nature and my calling for vengeance for our terribly fallen comrade, the majority soon regained their fortitude. We bolstered our spirits and resolved to set out come morning. The rest of the day was spent rechecking supplies and fortifying the room we would be sharing that night. Understandably, there was little resistance to communal bunking and setting watch. The morning would break upon us blessedly devoid of event, the peace granting a renewed confidence as we set upon our way.