Dral stumbles up and points a shaky, bleeding finger at JH. "I...name you murderer! You act outside of the law! there is no true justice with thee!"
"More like Executioner. By your own words you and your companions tried to kidnap my child. Your deaths are the blood price. That is my law."
"Your law...is evil! You are no executioner, you are the devil which kills for the smallest of crimes!"
"We can give you information! We demand a fair trial!" The old woman shouts.
"Fair? Another word you fools mock us with? Your partner confessed his intent. We have no prisons here. Serious crimes are dealt with serious punishment."
"So you can't bear to wait for us to die? Kidnapping is not a hanging crime. Let us in. Let us wait for our deaths. We can give you information in the meantime. We know the location of Kobold Cleaver's home, of Joek, he who sent us, and he who has killed many more innocents than us. Then we can be killed. But let us in first."
And now I really do have to go. I think we've come to a fair compromise here: If you want to kill somebody, ask, first.
Dral stumbles up and points a shaky, bleeding finger at JH. "I...name you murderer! You act outside of the law! there is no true justice with thee! You act in blind vengeance, and that is not justice!"
"It is punished by imprisonment, where I come from. I would appreciate it if you would stick to their example, rather than one of a war spirit. Even the Ch'acks had some wrong ideas. The Servants have more.
Warspirit, my friend has already been killed by the commander. We were killed because, disobeying orders, we went to warn you and your friends of the dangers of the Elements. Tarvek died helping you. Gods know what's happened to Stina. I know you have been lenient in the past, with Frost and the Yugoloths. they are evil. I am not. All I ask is to be allowed in until the Goddess can judge."
"Your friend died a fool. It pleased me to watch."
"The Ch'acks had no prisons. No need for them. It worked quite well."
"You seek to play on the symapthies of LJ, until your broken power is restored. I was against her gift of sanctuary. Now she has seen the price of it she will be loathe to grant it again. I can save her that worry."
The old man clenches his fists.
"Then I see what you are. You are a creature without true feeling, without remorse. I dub thee Deathgolem." He is silent for a moment. "I can only hope that the Goddess is otherwise." He pulls out a scroll, and intones words over it.
** spoiler omitted **...
"I might feel remorse. Later."
"A soldier would not be begging like this. In death your spirit will go freely to the Halls of Judgment. It might be, perhaps, the first real freedom you've tasted in a long time. If I thought you an eager participant I would drag your spirit to Hell myself. Stand for your actions, you coward."
"It is punished by imprisonment, where I come from. I would appreciate it if you would stick to their example, rather than one of a war spirit. Even the Ch'acks had some wrong ideas. The Servants have more.
Warspirit, my friend has already been killed by the commander. We were killed because, disobeying orders, we went to warn you and your friends of the dangers of the Elements. Tarvek died helping you. Gods know what's happened to Stina. I know you have been lenient in the past, with Frost and the Yugoloths. they are evil. I am not. All I ask is to be allowed in until the Goddess can judge."
"Your friend died a fool. It pleased me to watch."
"The Ch'acks had no prisons. No need for them. It worked quite well."
"You seek to play on the symapthies of LJ, until your broken power is restored. I was against her gift of sanctuary. Now she has seen the price of it she will be loathe to grant it again. I can save her that worry."
The old man clenches his fists.
"Then I see what you are. You are a creature without true feeling, without remorse. I dub thee Deathgolem." He is silent for a moment. "I can only hope that the Goddess is otherwise." He pulls out a scroll, and intones words over it.
Lynora:
A glowing image appears before her, though it barely shows up beyond the bubble. It is the image of Dral, the one who attacked her daughter :Lynora. Goddess of Bards. I am your enemy, but not to my liking. I was ordered to capture your child and bring it back for ransom. I, as you know, made the attempt, along with my friends. I failed. Later, my friend, Stina, discovered something: Champions are not meant to last long. I thus left with my friends to warn each of the Champions left: KC, Aidan, and the Bard. Alas, my friend Tarvek came back to discover that our former lord Joek did not approve. He was killed. Later, I came, and lost all my magic in the process. I barely escaped alive. I now beg for sanctuary of any kind, even if it be a concrete cell. Otherwise, I am a dead man. I regret my ignorant actions, and now have no sympathies for the Servants. Please. I spent 50 years practicing magic. Now, I have nothing left."
"I do not think so. You would risk attack from those Servants up there." He points. "They do not know I am a traitor yet. Look, we followed orders. I regret it, truly. I did not know of the corruption, and I was a soldier: Mutiny was simply not done. If it was then the mutineers were instantly killed. No exceptions. My life, or a girl's capture? I regret that I chose the latter. We do not practice torture, I thought the worst that would happen was ransom. Now I am not sure. Please, let me in. I am a powerless old man who has made too many mistakes. Please, let me in."
"Those Servants are afraid. Wisely so."
"Perhaps we should offer you up to them, since they are so powerful?"
"Kidnapping is a crime. Trying to kidnap my daughter is a crime punishable by death."
"It is punished by imprisonment, where I come from. I would appreciate it if you would stick to their example, rather than one of a war spirit. Even the Ch'acks had some wrong ideas. The Servants have more.
Warspirit, my friend has already been killed by the commander. We were killed because, disobeying orders, we went to warn you and your friends of the dangers of the Elements. Tarvek died helping you. Gods know what's happened to Stina. I know you have been lenient in the past, with Frost and the Yugoloths. they are evil. I am not. All I ask is to be allowed in until the Goddess can judge."
At the entrance to the Eyrie stumbles a man, who is carrying a huge obsidian sword. "I--I, D--Dral, re--re--request shelter fr--from she wh--who is kn--known a--as Ly--Lynor--Lynora, G-Goddess of B--bards!" He stammers. "I b--beg of y--you!" He seems rather shellshocked. "Otherwise I--I am a dead man!"
let's try this again
CH turns.
"Yes, you are a dead man."
"I have no magic. No power. Everything I have done for about 50 years is now useless. I bear you and yours no harm, and never have. Joek has killed my best friend, and it is clear to me that their leader is corrupt. I have no sympathies with them. The Goddess of Bards has never turned away those in need before! How can you do so now?"
/\He is coming to the Eyrie for protection.
"I am not the Goddess. I am the father of a little girl. You thrust her protector away from her, and set upon her. There is a special place for people such as you. I'll take you there."
"I do not think so. You would risk attack from those Servants up there." He points. "They do not know I am a traitor yet. Look, we followed orders. I regret it, truly. I did not know of the corruption, and I was a soldier: Mutiny was simply not done. If it was then the mutineers were instantly killed. No exceptions. My life, or a girl's capture? I regret that I chose the latter. We do not practice torture, I thought the worst that would happen was ransom. Now I am not sure. Please, let me in. I am a powerless old man who has made too many mistakes. Please, let me in."
At the entrance to the Eyrie stumbles a man, who is carrying a huge obsidian sword. "I--I, D--Dral, re--re--request shelter fr--from she wh--who is kn--known a--as Ly--Lynor--Lynora, G-Goddess of B--bards!" He stammers. "I b--beg of y--you!" He seems rather shellshocked. "Otherwise I--I am a dead man!"
let's try this again
CH turns.
"Yes, you are a dead man."
"I have no magic. No power. Everything I have done for about 50 years is now useless. I bear you and yours no harm, and never have. Joek has killed my best friend, and it is clear to me that their leader is corrupt. I have no sympathies with them. The Goddess of Bards has never turned away those in need before! How can you do so now?"
At the entrance to the Eyrie stumbles a man, who is carrying a huge obsidian sword. "I--I, D--Dral, re--re--request shelter fr--from she wh--who is kn--known a--as Ly--Lynor--Lynora, G-Goddess of B--bards!" He stammers. "I b--beg of y--you!" He seems rather shellshocked. "Otherwise I--I am a dead man!"
Dral turns to the dragon. "I can sense that you are very powerful, and as I would like to mourn, I will give you ONE. CHANCE. To leave."
You amuse me, and for that reason I am going to strip you of your magic and leave you to discuss if the balance of the boards is served by preventing the abberation that is the goddess and her clique from burning themselves out with your elder and better, his lordship Joek here.
The dragon snarls a brief incantation and slams Dral with an abjuration of mind-numbing power that was old whole ages of the world before Dral was born; a true dweomer of such might that it requires a dragon to channel and focus, from the spellbook of the first true caster ever, Sallimnandrissal, the Wyrm of Spells. A flash of blue light washes over Dral, and then the dragon is gone, leaving only an empty sensation, and inrush of air into where he was. Daelemos has now left the thread... He wasn't too careful wth that last area effect, and not just Dral but anyone standing close to Dral may have been caught too, but NOT Joek.
At the very least that was probably an uncounterable disjunction.
Dral shrieks in horror as he loses all that he ever had going for him. All those years spent in his study gone in an instant. Shakily, he leaps out and grabs Tarvek's sword. Then he leaps back in the cirlce and vanishes.
As the guards rush out to kill Dral, Dral smiles. "Joek, I am...disappointed. You have underestimated me once again." Eldritch magiks swirl around his hands, and flame blasts into Joek and the guards. "You see, I, unlike Tarvek, am very smart, and unlike Tarvek, I am also very powerful. You have, I am afraid, made a mistake in forgetting this."
The claw that strikes down at Tarvek is larger than he is, and is not much marked by the man's sword. A pool of blood spreads from the fallen Tarvek. *
I have neither the time nor inclination to take steps at present to prevent you from raising such a poor servant from the grave, if the mood so takes you, but I would be greatly displeased to hear that it had been done for any reason other than to impel your own, proper, rigorous disciplinary procedures. You once had some relatively ingenius ways of dealing with your own traitors.
Unless you have any further comments you wish to make, I shall take my leave of you.
* Imagine a tiny fly, unable to move from a spot, trying to stop or hurt a man from stubbing it out with a fingernail. That's approximately what Tarvek just tried to do.
Ouch. Well, he tried.
Suddenly, Dral appears in the circle. His eyes widen as he sees Tarvek's corpse, and he sees Joek not moving. His mind being significantly sharper than Tarvek's, he comes to a conclusion rather quickly. He lets out a cry of rage.
Dral is already putting on his trench coat. He turns to glare at Stina. "First, they are not officially enemies. Second, they can create untold destruction if not either disposed of or repaired. Stina, you take the Bard. Tarvek takes Kobold Cleaver. I take Aidan. Come on!"
"Well, we just found out." He points to the passage.
"'Champions are not meant to live past the point of peril. If the condition is not in some way stripped or lessened, they may begin feeling extreme irritability or suicidal/homicidal thoughts. If left long enough, they will become their element incarnate, meant to create destruction until destroyed or otherwise disposed of.'" He looks meaningfully up at Tarvek and Stina. "We have to warn them."
Meanwhile, Stina is studying in her tomes. Suddenly, her eyes widen. "Tarvek! Dral! Look at this!" She holds up the passage from the tome she was poring over. They hurry over.
"What? What is..." Dral sees what she is pointing at. "Oh. Oh dear."
The wreckage is terrible. Only Tarvek seems completely unharmed by the blast, though the lightning bolt seems to have singed him nastily. Stal and Stina are the only others of the team that seem to be alive.
"Which of you said it?"
"Both of us." Dral struggles to his feet. "Where did the girl go? She should have been hit the hardest, she was right next to you."
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