The elf groans as the poison makes his muscles sluggish. He tries to concentrate through the pain and complete a spell.
But is overwhelmed and loses his concentration.
Xiddik stutters in her song, but picks it up again to come to a raging crescendo. The kobold has been poisoned more than once over the years. She does not much care for the experience.
She starts up a third tune. I'm running out of battle songs. All I have left is... She suppresses a groan. ...that one.
Gisiel ignores the kobold's warning and, despite his many bleeding wounds, tries his spell again.
Perhaps aided by the desperation of the situation, the elf manages to finish the spell. His hand becomes shrouded in crackling black energy and he grasps the demon's slimy forehead. It shrieks as the life-force is rapidly drained from it and it's turned into a lifeless husk.
The elf seems to gain some amount of strength from the spell, standing a little straighter afterward.
"Randall, we need to find Akron, he's really in charge here, although you are probably the one in charge over everything."
Jametor waves at Asht'el to come to him.
There’s a long pause after Asht speaks.
Suddenly the voice picks up again.
”Well keep a better handle on your venue. The Overlord doesn’t like it when folks tear up the place. And get this mess cleaned up.”
Fíriel frowns and motions to Randall. Let's find out whoever that is and teach him a bit of respect.
Sneaking quietly to the exit, she tries to spot the speaker before he leaves. Prickles trundles after her, though he throws a worried peeg-glance back toward Njord occasionally.
Xiddik grimaces, ending her song with one cheerful note and placing a hand over her many scrapes and cuts.
The wounds vanish. She frowns at Gisiel. "Why did not you just back away? Casting in a fight is a fool's game."
She carefully checks a window. "Wonder how many more appeared. This place may not be safe for us right now."
Merging with the shuffling crowd, the two hobbits exit the arena to find six gendarmes. One is clearly in charge, clutching a well-built halberd and directing his lessers, but the others look like little more than boys and are only armed with clubs. They seem to be urging people to keep moving and clear the area.
Despite his heavy breathing and the amount of blood soaking through his robes, Gisiel’s wounds don’t look to be life threatening.
”Another miscalculation. I have to correct it. This is my responsibility”, the elf says between labored breathes.
The screams from outside rise in intensity.
Curious, Asht'el follows the hobbits out the door, making no effort to blend into the crowd. "Good day, gendarmes! You certainly got here quickly! You must be very dedicated to serving the good people of Riddleport. I'm sorry about the ruckus. If I may ask, did someone report the noise, or were you all in the neighborhood? We do like to try to get on well with our neighbors, I'd hate to think we disturbed anyone."
The gendarme in charge answers Asht with a curious glance.
"We're used to this place getting rowdy but thought something was wrong when we heard screams of pain and some kind of hellish screaming. It looks like we were right", he says with a gesture at the crumbled side of the building.
"Is everything under control in there now? If we were to go inside, we're not going to find a pile of bodies?"
She heads outside, humming another tune.
"Just some big spider-looking thing, would not believe it if I did not see it for myself, that some mage brought up," he indicates the massive damage, "to terrorize people. The mage disappeared. Some people, they get some power and they think common decency is below them, you know?"
Taking the opportunity to be alone with Njord, Jametor stands near him watching the others head out to intercept the gendarme.
"It's getting worse isn't it? Jametor says, not facing Njord.
Njord grunts and nods. ”Ya. Between the stuff with Saul, Clegg, and the drow – all the fightin’ makes him stronger. I don’t think I can control him anymore when he comes out.”
The big ulfen looks around at the mayhem. ”He didn’t do any of this did he? He didn’t hurt anybody?”
Jametor points to the inert pieces of the retriever. "That's mostly your work, not sure how you survived, the rest of us had our hands full with other stuff and for the most part it was you who wore it down. I am not sure how much stuff I threw at it, affected it. Ash probably helped."
Jametor looks at Njord.
"I think he was rude to Prickles and the others as they tried to help you. Might want to apologize to them. I am not a cleric but if you need my help with research, I can help."
Jametor scratches at one of the bat bites.
Njord chuckles. ”I’ll try to apologize to the little guy.”
Surveying the destruction again, the big ulfen nods. ”Well that’s nuff feelin’ sorry for myself. Let’s see if there’s anyone that needs our help.”
"Little guy dragged a healing potion all the way over here from the arena floor. Randall did the same. He was gruff. You know me, social conventions are obstacles for me. The others.."
Njord scratches the back of his hairy neck, feeling more and more bad for offending the hedgehog.
”I’m just glad he didn’t hurt none of you. I’d never forgive myself. I’ll make sure to make it up to him later. I’ve got some candied plums he’s been tryin’ to get at for weeks.”
Stepping outside, Crying Leaf has erupted into chaos. More of the squat demons the pair battled inside the lab can be seen moving about chasing fleeing elves. Plumes of sickly green smoke rise into the forest canopy from buildings in the distance.
Concentrated screams can be heard from the east and an enormous horned figure can be seen looming over the buildings through the smoky haze.
"I suspect he's getting closer to being less than friendly to us. I think he still sees us a cubs, but well, I think he grows tired of us. To be honest, we needed him today. You are quite good in battle, but him...well he's awe inspiring. At least to me. Of course, I am used to being in the back, never left the seating area during the entire time. One bat got to me, took a couple of chunks out of me."
Jametor stops then shrugs and starts moving to where he can hear some groaning from civilians.
Rushing through the chaotic streets, the pair emerges through a column of smoke to arrive in a large square, where the ground is slick with blood and gore. The broken bodies of a half dozen elves lays scattered across the paved earth and another chokes in desperation as she’s pinned to the wall of a building by some unseen force. Standing in the square, enjoying the spectacle, is a hulking muscled beast with elephantine feet. It’s violet hide is covered in large, razor-sharp horns.
The demon laughs at the plight of the struggling elf until there’s a wet *crunch* as something vital snaps inside her and she goes limp.
”For centuries I’ve had my eyes on this place”, he rumbles with a voice that makes Xiddik’s scales quiver. ”But until now it was warded from my kind. Who do I have to thank for this change of circumstances? Was it you little one?”
The demon's bestial features twist in a grin as he looks at Xiddik.
”A mage you say? Did all this? What a mess”, the lead gendarme mutters.
”Well when you’re ready to file a report I suggest you come down to the guardhouse. I can’t promise much. Most of the gendarmes have hung up their halberds for a bigger purse. Cromarcky’s got us stretched thin these days.”
Asht'el briefly considers how to talk his way out of the little hole he's dug for himself, then replies, "Well, some folk were hurt, and we're still sorting that out. As my halfling friend said, someone called up this weird spider thing that we had to fight off. How about this, we'll take care of the mess and help any who are hurt, and if it's looking really bad, we'll know where to find you, m'kay?"
Hearing the elf speak, Njord nods in understanding. ”Yeah, I know. He’s real strong and sometimes we need that strength. I’m scared of him. I've always been scared of him.”
The big ulfen wraps up Jametor in a crushing show of affection. ”I just don’t wanna lose track of me.”
Jametor cries out in pain as his unhealed and mostly healed wounds reopen. As soon as the Ulfen lets him go, he falls to his knees, wheezing.
Through ragged breaths he says, "Bat bit me harder than I thought."
Njord answers Jametor with his usual laughter, helping him stand up. He produces a healing potion. "Drink up! We've got a long night ahead of us."
** spoiler omitted **
The demon laughs. It’s a terrible hateful sound. ”Do not be humble. You’ve delivered unto me hundreds of fresh souls and soft unbroken bodies to fill my stables. I would see you properly rewarded. What is it you wish? Name it and it’s yours.”
Gisiel looks at Xiddik in disbelief but remains silent.
"Thank you for your time, constable. Be safe - you never know what's going to come up out of the ground these days." The halfling gives a little grin to show he's joking, sort of.
The leader rolls his eyes and gestures for his men to follow. "Let's move out. We're not needed here."
The gendarmes depart a moment later.
Asht'el considers whether there was anything he should have noticed or thought of when the gendarmes arrived on the scene.
Asht knows what most people know about the Overlord and the Gendarmes. Even though Riddleport has been around for centuries as a smuggler’s den and pirate cove, it wasn’t until Overlord Cromarcky, a retired pirate, settled down here roughly 30 years ago that it grew into the, at least surface level, legitimate free city it is today. The Gendarmes started as his army of personal thugs but over the years evolved into a sort of police force responsible for keeping the peace across Riddleport. The Gendarmes are brutal and known for resorting to violence first but can generally be trusted to remain objective in the many feuds between crime bosses – excepting when it comes to the man that pays their wage.
She's been speaking rhythmically the whole time, but now pauses, as if hesitant. "These elves have insulted me; treated me like one of their own, and I would ask that you allow me to place my arcane mark upon your shoulder, that they might know who they underestimated."
The demon considers the suggestion.
”Very well. I will wear your mark as my minions and I raze this village to the ground so that all may despair under the knowledge that such a tiny creature was their undoing.”
Gisiel remains silent but give the kobold the slightest of nods.