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Ameiko stood behind the bar staring at the comatose figure. She had only ever seen a dwarf, a rare sight in Sandpoint, drink as much. At first she had thought that he was here for the upcoming Swallowtail Festival, but it soon had become apparent that not only did he have no knowledge of the festival- he also seemed to have no knowledge of where exactly he was.
Ameiko considered herself a good judge of character, after all she was a bard and tavern owner and to be successful, both required her to know people. This man was odd though and he perplexed her greatly, not that she thought he was dangerous, perse. She actually felt sorry for him, a sort of kinship. Whoever he was this man had experienced a great loss, she could read that much in him, and he had tried to kill his pain with alchol. She knew from experience that such an approach would not work.
"Bethana", she finally said to the diminuative halfling cleaning the glasses nearby, "can you find our guest a blanket of some sort? I expect he will be sleeping for quite some time."
The halfling cast a disparaging glance at the unconscious human. "The least he could do is rent a room."
Ameiko had offered that very thing, at a discount no less, but he had refused pointing out that the Rusty Dragon did not provide room service for drinks. She stared at him more intently, specifically the armor he was clad in. It was heavy and uncommon for the area, heavy armor was almost never seen here on the Varasian coast. There was a Hellknight citadel outside of Korvosa, but this was not Hellknight armor. It was, however, elegantly crafted which indicated to her that the armor was not from Varasia at all. They had plenty of fantastic smiths in the area, but the elegance of the armor suggested a more cultured and established realm like Taldor or Cheliax. It seemed as all identifying marks had been scoured from it, however, and it was poorly maintained,with road dust and hints of rust along the edges. This man either did not know how to keep up his armor or did not care. The large shield was even more intriguing to her as it's heraldry was covered in a thick layer of black paint or tar, she wasn't certain which, but it had obviously and intentionally been concealed.
As she evaluated all of this inform,ation she kept coming back to one question. "Why was he here?"
When Jylesse arrived at the Rusty Dragon it was as she always did, dancing through the threshold in a riot of colors. Ameiko couldn't help but smile. Jylesse was a beautiful woman, her olive colored skin and long, dark, spiralling hair accentuated the distraction of her lithe dancer form. On nights Ameiko decided to sing for her patrons she doubled her money, on nights she sang and Jylesse decided to dance she could afford to close for a week. Ameiko liked the Varasian girl, but their was something about her that always made her feel a bit leary, almost like an unwanted eye was upon them when she was nearby.
Ameiko poured a glass of Elven wine, usually the standard price for Jylesse to dance, and slid it across the bar. The Varasian cought the glass deftly and lifted it to her lips while her gaze lingered on the dark haired man in the corner. "Who is he Ameiko? I've never seen him here before."
Ameiko shrugged watching Jylesse size up the armored drunk, sized him up as all Varasians had a tendency to do, assessing the value of every visible item on a person. "No Sczarni tricks on my patrons Jylesse!" Ameiko warned, shaking a finger at her newest guest.
"I am no Sczarni!" Jylesse hissed back, still staring intently at the armored man as he tried to line up the tankard with his mouth.
The Varasian noticed the long shaft of weapon resting against the wall behind him, as well as the tarnished shield and a large sword strapped to his waist. "Gods, he drinks like a dwarf."
"He doesn't handle it nearly as well." Ameiko responded, although she knew that Jylesse probably did not know any dwarves, except for the strange bald one that at taken up in the smithy with Das Korvut- and both the man and the dwarf were so foul tempered that it was folly to even approach the place unless you intended to talk business and with the specific purpose to comission work or make a purchase. "He only awoken from his last nap an hour ago."
"What's with the spear?" Jylesse said, gesturing toward the weapon leaning against the wall.
"I actually think it's a lance." Ameiko replied.
"Where is his horse?" Jylesse replied, "I haven't heard of any new horses being stabled at the Goblin Squash."
"I don't think he had one. He staggered in here from the North Road. I suspect he walked, probably all the way from Riddleport... or beyond."
"Why does a man with no horse need a lance? It's a completly impractical weapon without one."
Ameiko shrugged. There was no arguement there, she had wondered that very thing herself, but she knew as well as anyone that sometimes prying into a person's past only reopened deep wounds. "I'm going to talk to him." Jylesse stated firmly as she left the bar and approached the stranger.
The Varasian fingered the whip handle at her waist, reassuring herself that the family heirloom was nearby in case things turned violent, as they sometimes did with overzealous men. Jylesse was keenly aware of her beauty, indeed, she knew it was as much a weapon as the whip at her hip or the magic she was beginning to know how to command. "What is your name good sir?" She asked in as sultry a voice as she could manage.
The armored man slammed his flagon to the table and pointed a threatening gauntleted finger at her, "Don't ever call me that!"
Jylesse, startled, initially took a step back, but then realizing that, as drunk as he was, this man could pose no threat to her pulled up a chair to his table and reached out to hold his outstretched hand.
He yanked it away hastily. "Leave me alone."
"Why are you here?" she asked gently.
He snorted derisively. "I don't even know where here is. Truth be told, I don't care. I bought passage on a ship that dropped me off in some gods forsakken city up the coast where everyone tried to rob me, after killing four or five people to maintain my purse I decided to leave. Followed the road that lead here, wherever in the hells here is."
Jylesse gestured to the lance propped against the wall behind him. "Where's your horse?"
"Sold him, for passage on the ship. Now go away...I know enough of you."
"And what do you know?" she cooed enticingly.
He levelled his dark eyes on her and snarled "I know that you are not a whore and I know that I will not give you coin for anything else. So it is time for you to go."
Instinctively, Jylesse clutched the handle of her whip, but he wasn't threatening her, she realized. He had done his own evaluation, as she had and was summing up his "opponent". She relaxed a little and noticed his nearly empty mug. "I know the owner. What if I were to convince her to give you a discount and buy you your next round?"
The man relaxed a little rocking back in his chair and nearly toppling over. "In that case you may call me Janther."
Belor made a mental note to call up a half dozen more militia to help deal with the swelling population arriving for the much anticipated Swallowtail Festival as he approached the fortified doors of the garrison. He hated being caught unprepared and prided himself on preparing for any contingency. The town had recovered from the previous tragedies that took their church and his predecessor. A rise in population would result in more drunks and more Sczarni hoodwinking of those new to town, his regular guards could deal with an upswing in either of those scenarios. What concerned him were the factors he could not fully evaluate, the strange arrivals to town. The morose dwarf who had taken up in the smithy with Das Korvut and was equally foul tempered he knew nothing about other than his unusual ashen skin. The dwarf, and Das for that matter, both seemed content to remain in the smithy working tirelessly and as long as no one went in there seeking a confrontation he was certain that they would both remain in the building and not cause an issue during the festival. Of more concern to him was the elaborately armored drunk in the Rusty Dragon, no one wore armor like that unless they were expecting a fight and if that one decided to cause a problem he wasn't certain any of his guards, with the exception of himself, was skilled enough to stand in his way, but Ameiko had assured him that the man was unaware of the festival or any specific person in town. He seemed to drink, pass out, and drink some more.
As he entered he was jarred from his thoughts by one of his more stout guards rushing up to him with a desperate look in his eyes. Private Colin was not easily rattled and was one of the more rugged guards he employed and his nickname among the other guards was "Anvil", so Belor was instantly wary. "He's waiting for you Sheriff. Has been for an hour and a half, won't say any words other than when he asked for you and he's just stood there stone still since then... staring at me."
Belor looked across the room to the tall, slender figure standing several feet away and understood Colin's unease. Many of his Sandpoint guard were unuse to the presence of an elf- they were uncommon here in town. This one was clad in the elegant lightweigh armor of his people, had a fine rapier at his waist, quivers of arrows straped to his hip and back alongside an elegant longbow and he truly was just staring at the young private with his monochromatic silver elven eyes. "Um... can I go on patrol sir?" Colin requested in a clearly unnerved voice.
Belor nodded and Colin scrambled out of the building forgetting his helmet, shield and sword. The elf's eyes slid slowly over Belor as Colin left the building sizing up the man. The sheriff approached a few steps and meaningfully placed an unsheathed dagger on a table beside them. The elf watched and managed a wry smirk, Belor had few doubts that this warrior's reflexes, as most elves, would surpass his and if they were to lunge for the dagger he stood little chance of being the first to secure it. "I do not take kindly to people intimidating my men." Belor stated flatly.
"Is that what I was doing? I was unaware. I shall extend my apologies at our next meeting. I had merely intended to wait on you."
Belor shook his head, "I doubt you would have the opportunity to say two words to the private before he found another task that 'required' his immediate attention."
"How unfortunate, "the elf responded, "then you will, of course, be kind enough to relay the apology on my behalf."
"Who are you and what brings you to Sandpoint? The Swallowtail Festival?" Even as he said it Belor knew that this elf was not here for the celebration.
"You may call me Aervin, Sheriff Hemlock, and I am here to speak with Shalelu."
Shalelu was the unofficial "protector" of the wilderness around Sandpoint, he was one of the few people in town that the elven ranger would speak with on the rare occasions that she entered town and he hadn't seen her in many months. He had even entertained the thoughts of sending a few guards to scout for her in case she had run across trouble, but he knew that anything that could cause her harm would make short work of his guards. "I haven't seen her in quite some time, unfortunately. I was starting to worry, if you are here to find her I would recommend starting in the Nettlewood, maybe the Tickwood."
The silver eyed elf burst out in a musical laugh. "It is unfortunate that she is not here as I was lead to believe, but if she is in the wood I have little chance of finding a ranger of her caliber. I suppose that I shall just have to wait longer."
With those words the elf stood stock still clasping his wrists behind his back and fixed his unnerving gaze on Belor. The sheriff sighed, a strange elf in his garrison, a strange dwarf in the smithy, a strange drunk in the Rusty Dragon, and scores of locals arriving for the Swallowtail Festival. He did not have a good feeling about this situation.
I really appreciate this, I hope you are going to continue this intro of a wonderful tale...
Jylesse sat shaking her head. Janther was passed out again after yet another bout of drinking. For three days now she had been watching over him on behalf of Ameiko who had bribed her handsomely to make certain the lost knight caused little disruption, and since he seemed to tolerate the Varasian's comely features, also make certain that no one disturbed him. It was amazing to watch the dark haired man transition from sleep, to lucidity, to manic drunkard and back into a comatose state. Much to Ameiko's relief the man hadn't vomitted once- despite the volume he consumed, each time paying with Riddleport minted silver coins from a large pouch at his belt.
Ameiko had been busy preparing foodstuffs for the Swallowtail Festival and had little time to watch over her patrons, she allowed the venerable halfling Bethana to see to most of that- except for this one. Jylesse had tried to pry more information from this stranger, but he rarely offered any insights and he never initiated any conversation even when she sat beside him for hours. Once she had gotten him to unsheath the large sword he carried across his back and lay it across the table, with an explicit warning that she was not to touch it. The blade itself was unremarkable beyond its size and the fact that someone would have to be well trained to wield it effectively in combat, especially while using a shield. But, it's hilt was extravagant. A gem encrusted stylized eye sat at the crosspiece and numerous smaller red and white gemstones were patterned across it. The crosspiece itself was shaped to resemble a pair of feathered wings and, unlike his once splendid armor, this sword had been well cared for. When Janther had passed out again she and Ameiko had talked about him and agreed he was not from Riddleport, despite his coin. He was obviously a broken man, but what had broken him remained a curious puzzle.
As Jylesse cast a glance out the open window she noticed that the sun was setting. The celebratory noises from the Festival still rang in from the street, although it was quieted by the retort of a thunderstone, and she was rather rueful that she could not hear Father Zanthus rededicate the new cathedral, although she had never felt particularly comfortable around the new structure, the priest was a good speaker and she enjoyed mingling with the community. She was moving towards the door to see if she could open it an hear better when the first cries of terror enrupted. She spun instantly to the halfling maid and pointed directly to Janther, "Wake him up by whatever means necessary!"
Jylesse had unraveled the whip from her hip with a single deft flick of her wrist, yanked the door open and gestured conjuring a field of force to protect her. "Where are you going?" Bethana asked in a terrified voice, as everyone else had gone to the festival and it had only been these three in the tavern.
"I need to make certain that Madame Mvashti is safe. Wake him up!" and with that Jylesse ducked out to the streets in a full sprint.
Bethana understood. Niska Mvashti was revered as a saint by the local Varasians, so of course that would be Jylesse's first priority. She looked over at the large armored figure and trembled as more screams and a sort of high pitched shrieking music welled up from the street. She gave him the mightiest shove her short, aged form could produce and only elicited a snore louder than most of his others. Noise on the street became louder and closer causing desperation to set in, she jumped on a chair and noticed a half full flagon still nearby. Grabbing it she whispered a swift prayer to Cayden Cailean that this would not lead to her demise even faster than what had attacker the town and dumped to contents over Janther's head.
The man roared to life in a manner she could not have expected had she shoved a hot poker in his ear. He erupted from the table, sword seeming to leap into his hands, and sent her tumbling over in the chair. Bethana had never seen the dark haired man standing up, see had been tending the rooms upstairs when he had first arrived, and was startled to see that he stood over six feet erect. He shook his head vigorously spraying stale beer over her. "What in the hells are you doing?" He shouted at her.
Helplessly the halfling raised her small arm pointing to the open doorway. "People are dying."
That silenced him long enough to listen to the screams. He let out a low growl and grabbed up his tar covered shield, settling it upon one arm. He pointed his blade at the lance leaning against the wall, "No one is to touch that."
Bethana nodded vigorously as he staggered toward the door. Outside Janther tried to take in the scene, but it was difficult and the noise made his head ache and the terrible singing he couldn't understand made it even worse. People were fleeing something further up the street and there was a dog dead nearby with a poorly crafted blade sticking from its ear. He almost didn't notice the little green figure streaking towards him until it was upon him, but he was not to be caught off guard and swung his heavily armored boot and shin into the charging beast's midsection sending a spray of blood from its oversized, needle toothed head and causing it to crumple in a broken heap. He knelt down to look at it closer. Goblins, he realized. He remained confused though as goblins tended to be stupid, but cowardly. They would attack only when they outnumbered their opponents three to one or more, not launch an attack on a fully populated town- especially when the townsfolk were all gathered in a group. It didn't make sense.
The force of the blow to his back almost sent him face first to the street and he heard the snap of a steel blade as it snapped against the back of his tarnished armor. He swung around cleaving with his blade and striking his goblin assailant, sending it spinning to the dirt. He looked towards the roof, the crazed thing had jumped on him from up there he realized. As he was moving his gaze a second goblin came flying from the roof, followed closely by an extinguished by still smoldering torch. Unlike the first, this one had obviously been pushed or thrown and landed in a splattered mess near his feet. Janther just caught a glimpse of white leaping from the roof of the Rusty Dragon to the clothing shop across the street heading towards the new cathedral faster than the knight could follow in his armor.
Janther cursed in his native tongue. He had not come here to fight and defend these people. He had come to forget those things... he would need to be leaving soon. Checking his grip on his sword and shield he marched toward the cathedral sighing, "Perhaps if I'm lucky they will have brought something with them that can kill me."
That's still very good and I was waiting to see your way to deal with goblin assault without taking your tale to a classical campaign journal... the result is wonderful, grats
Rathos stared at the new horseshoe critically, the screams and chanting from outside the smithy did not concern him nearly as much as the imperfection he saw in the small bur in the iron. Imperfect ore was no excuse for an imperfect product, at least that was the way he was taught. He tossed the horseshoe onto the heap of rejected products lying next to his anvil. He knew in the morning Das would return and gather them all up for sale. With a sigh he reached the tongs into the forge for another strip of heated metal and began to go to work again with his hammer.
He had been working the metal into its semicircular shape for only a few minutes when he heard the high pitched shrieks of glee from the doorway of the shop. Reluctantly, he stopped his work and turned to regard the trio of creatures that had entered. He sighed deeply at the goblins and waved them away with a sinewy arm. "Bother me not goblins, go find some human to stab and leave me to my work."
The lead goblin, brandishing his crude weapon lunged towards the dwarf. Instantly Rathos called the forge fire to his hand and hurled it at the charging creature immolating it midstride. The other two goblins clapped gleefully as their companion burned and crumbled to the floor. "Leave me to my work!" The dwarf repeated more forcefully.
The goblins could not comprehend him in the least, but found their attention drawn to several finished shortswords that had been laid out on a bench, the best work that Rathos had, thus far, been able to produce with this forge. Quickly they grabbed up the blades, thinking to become heroes within their clan by returning such superior armaments to their comrades. The dwarf became furious the moment they touched them. "Unhand my work you unworthy greenskins!"
The goblins chuckled at him, one even lifted a blade toward the bald dwarf, until Rathos grabbed up his larger iron hammer from beside the forge and caused his form to swell to twice it's normal height cracking against the roof and stepping over the water barrel laying between him and the goblins. They let out a high pitched shriek and raced for the door. Rathos burst from the doorway right behind them and they split opposite ways down the roadway. A single well placed hammer strike splattered the one on his right and scattered the stolen swords across the street.
The second goblin never even turned back fleeing for its life. It was already beyond Rathos' reach, but he reached into his tool pouch and drew out the stones he always carried their and hurled one towrds the small thief. The stone struck with unnatural force taking the hapless creature from his feet with bone shattering force.
The dwarf had just begun gathering up the swords when he noticed the town sheriff staring at him. Close to a half dozen goblin corpses littered the street around him as did the body of a dead militia member. "I need your help, Sandpoint is under attack!" The sheriff pleaded.
"No." Rathos replied flatly, "I am a craftsman."
"You are ten feet tall and you have a hammer with a head the size of a goblin! I hereby deputize you!"
"I said no. There is work to be done." Rathois replied and turned back to the shattered entrance of the smithy.
"Sandpoint took you in. Protected you from whatever you were running from and I kept you from being bothered by the locals, since privacy is what you seemed to crave. Now it is time for you to pay back that debt, we need your help and I have just lawfully deputized you, refuse again and you are commiting a treason!"
The large gray skinned dwarf glared at the smaller man, as if weighing whether or not to strike him dead. "Fine." he finally growled, "What do you want me to do?"
"I need to rally the rest of the militia, you head over to the new temple, that's where most of the civilians are, save as many as you can."
Belor, the sheriff ran off down a side alley as Rathos collapsed in on himself returning to his regular dense, muscular stature. He looked towards the temple and then cast another glance towards where the sheriff had run. The man was correct, he owed these people a debt. "How I hate humans." He muttered and headed off towards the cathedral.
Janther managed to stagger into the central square before the cathedral before collapsing to one knee and vomiting. It was the culmination of his days of binge drinking, the smoke and noise, and the carnage. He had passed the corpse of a young mother and her small baby, both had been gnawed upon and hacked with poorly constructed weapons. Goblin gore still coated his own armored boots and the hideous high pitched song continued, even seeming closer as he threw up violently. Worst than this were the memories... the massacre he fled...
The crack of a whip was followed quickly by a sharp pain just beneath his right eye and the awful song was right in his ear. Janther instantly realized how lucky he was that the strike had not cost him his eye and tightened his grip on his sword as he tried to stand and face the chanting goblin. Three other goblins stood several feet behind the whip wielding one as if they did not trust his skill with the weapon, but eagerly jumped from foot to foot ready they rush in the moment they had the opportunity with their small cleaver like blades.
He needed to get up. The whip cracked back in and he managed to raise his sword arm enough to guard his face as the lash tangled around his gauntlet and sword hilt.
An arrow pierced through the singing goblin's shoulder, bringing his song to an end and causing his song to end in a surprised yelp, just seconds before a second arrow struck the center of his forehead. Janther felt a hand drop on his shoulder. "Are you one of Belor's men?" the song-like voice asked.
The three goblins charged and Janther forced himself to his feet bringing his large shield in front of him and pushing the new person further behind him with his sword arm which still dangled the dead goblin's whip. "Stay behind me! I don't know a Belor."
"A human protecting me? How quaint a notion." The voice replied as an arrow thrummed between Janther's planted legs, causing him to wince a bit as the closest charging goblin dropped to the ground dead in his tracks with an arrow buried to its tail feathers in his scrawny chest.
Janther hacked down a second one and lowered his shield to parry the attack of the third. As he was drawning back for his next strike the goblins oversized head exploded like a melon dropped from a farm cart splattering him with more gore. Several feet behind the falling corpse stood a gray skinned, bald dwarf in a sooty leather tunic with a large hammer in one brawny hand and tossing and catching a small rock in the other. "A dwarf." The sing song voice cried out.
"Call me that again and your head will be the next to burst elf!" the dour figure replied as he spat towards the two and then casually turned to survey the wreckage of the festival. Dead goblins and people littered the square and the fighting seemed to spill into the sidestreets leading away from the plaza as the unarmed citizens fled and the short legged assailants pursued. Rathos sighed deeply and set off at a determined pace towards the nearest sidestreet where he had just seen a pair of goblins chase a human and his dog.
Janther turned to face the lithe elf behind him. "Well met." The elf smiled, and then wrinkled his delicate nose as the smell of stale ale hit him from Janther's still moist hair, "Not one of Belor's men then."
The elf gestured toward the departing dwarf, "Should we follow him?"
The knight shook his head. "There is a girl, bright clothes... find her."
The elf looked around, "A girl in bright clothes at a festival. Not too hard a task..."
Suddenly the elf stopped, drew an arrow, cocked it in his bow all in a single lightning quick motion then aimed towards a moving shadow on the rooftops. Janther held out an arm to stop the shot. "I saw it too. Not a goblin, too big and too fast."
"What then?" the elf asked, but the human knight just shrugged.
The elf chuckled whimsically, shrugged, levelled his bow at a sidestreet on the far side of the plaza and let the arrow fly taking a goblin in the back. "Any ideas where this girl is?"
Janther shook his head, trying to shake out the drunkeness. Only Bethana the halfling had been in the Rusty Dragon when he had awoken. "No wait... there are two girls."
"Even better." The elf responded cheerfully, "Which way?"
"I don't know where they would have gone. I don't know this town. Only their names Jylesse and Ameiko."
The elf frowned and looked around. He had never been to Sandpoint before either and all he knew of its layout was what he saw on his way to the garrison. He looked around the plaza and caught a last glimpse of the sturdy dwarf as he turned the corner into an alley. "Follow the dwarf then? He seems to know where he's going."
Still a very good read... Thank You!
The man turned the corner quickly around the theatre and took a sliding turn heading towards the market a dog quick at his heels. Jylesse watched with amusement as he fled by her, the blue tails of his ornate and pretentious jacket flapping behind him. Her smile faded as the mounted goblin rounded the corner. While most goblins were not to be taken very seriously this one, judging by his scars and one missing eye, knew which end of his pole arm to hold. The massive beady eyed rodent he sat astride was also menacing at the size of a large hog and with two large yellow incisors bared.
The Varasian quickly fell back into the shadows of the doorway, reassuringly clenching her whip and hoping the man would continue running as she cast a glance his way. The man was running, but the dog had circled around him and when the pompous noble turned he tripped over the dog, which had stopped to growl at the approaching goblin. Jylesse sighed, "Of course."
Sensing an opportunity the goblin and his mount lunged forward. The goblin leveled his lance-like weapon at the growling dog.Whith a flick of her wrist, Jylesse's whip lashed out wrapping around the neck of the mounted goblin. With a hearty jerk she yanked him from the saddle crashing to the cobblestones with the weapon tumbling from his grasp. The sickly pinkish, hairless rodent he had been riding stopped and turned its beady eyes back toward her, initially confused, but fixated on her with a menacing growl.
Jylesse snapped her whip back to her, preparing to fend off the lunge, although her weapon was not well designed for such a parry. Things became worse as she heard the chittering voices behind her. Several goblins had been trailing their mounted hero and were now flanking her. As she turned to count her new opponents the giant rodent leapt. She threw up her arm, whip snapping uselessly above the creatures head as its vicious jaws claws on her forearm. She screamed as the pain roared up her arm like a flame. Her hand reflexively opened its grip on her weapon and she heard the goblins behind her cheer.
She had thought the worst was over until the rodent began to shake its head and she felt her shoulder pop out of joint. She was scrabbling uselessly for a dagger, she had several concealed along the curves of her body, but the violent shaking, pain, and a reddish crawling rash made it impossible for her to reach one.
As she began to fade from consciousness she heard a growl as the noble's dog lunged past her and tore the throat from one of the clapping goblins and for a moment she entertained the thought that this animal was her salvation, but the other two goblins fell upon the creature with their vicious little blades... hacking with a disturbing vigor. Slowly, Jylesse slipped into darkness realizing that her best hope had just been turned into a gory mess.
Rathos rounded the corner and saw the scene before him. The human noble crawling away in fear, the dark haired female being shaken back and forth vigorously and the two goblins hacking away at the dead animal. He flipped his last stone into his palm. It still had the weight of the magic in it, though he knew he could not rely on the spell to hold much longer. With the forefinger of his other hand he flicked the peeble toward the closest goblin and the rock streaked forward striking it with unnnatural force shattering its spine and dropping it quivering to the ground. The other goblin turned toward him with an awestruck look upon his face. It managed to raise its dagger in a menacing pose a second before an arrow took it between the eyes. "Not again," the smith growled in annoyance, as a gray clad form dashed by him and struck the head from the goblin dog a dozen paces from him.
The human warrior quickly dropped to his knees beside the fallen woman, examining her savaged arm. "She's bleeding to death. Dwarf! You have magic, I've seen it with the rocks, can you save her?"
Rathos glared at the armored knight. "I am no dwarf! And what care I if she lives or dies? I don't like humans." He cast a glance over his shoulder at the lean figure, poised with bow in hand covering the street with vigilant eyes and a nocked arrow, "And I'm certain that I am probably not fond of elves either, based on the company they seem to keep."
Before he could fully turn back, the human's sword struck ringing against his iron hammer and knocking it from his grasp. Janther leaned in grabbing the heavy leather apron of the dwarf and attempting to pull him closer, although Rathos could not be budged. "I did not ask you what you thought of humans! I asked if you could save her life."
Rathos glared at him, matching the intensity of the stare, but eventually allowing his gaze to trail to his weapon that lay several feet away. "Enough. I'll see what I can do." he grumbled, approaching the fallen woman.
A quizzical look developed on his face as he approached closer. He grasped her injured, bleeding arm at the wrist and lifted it from the ground pointing it toward the sky and then released it to drop with a wet smack to the pavement. The dwarf stared at the bleeding arm at length, until prompted from his fascination by the knight. "Well?"
The reprimand set the dwarf to casting, he couldn't fully mend her wounds, but he could probably stop the bleeding that was jeapordizing her life. His fingers began to glow with an orange light and he drew them across the bleeding gash in her arm sealing the wound in the flesh.
Promptly he stood and pointed to the unconscious body. "What is she?" he demanded.
The elf and human looked at him dumbfounded. Rathos bent over and grasped the forearm of her injured arm and shook it vigorously, pointing to the open palm and whip handle that rested there, no fingers curled around it. No matter how vigorously he shook the whip did not fall from her palm. He dropped it to the ground. ""What is she?"
Janther and Aervin looked at each other mystified and could only shrug.
Ameiko was running for her life, from goblins no less! She cursed in Tian again for not having brought even a single dagger with her, but she had been in town and was consumed by cooking for the festival. Even still these goblins were swift on their feet and eager for blood. As she ran she went over the songs and magic she had at her disposal, she was fairly certain that she could charm one of the dimwitted creatures- rather easily even. But that would take time, and even if she were to complete the spell-song the other two would be upon her and she had little chance of fighting them off bare handed. Fascinating them with music would be useless, as they were already enraged and she had few other options to dispatch them without her weapons, but she intentionally kept them locked away. They were from days she preferred not to remember. So, with few other options, she ran on hoping to cross one of the town guards or, if she was truly lucky, Belor himself. Perhaps she could make it all the way back to the Rusty Dragon and rouse Janther from the stupor he had perpetually remained in.
It was the unmistakable, disturbing crunch of bone that caused her to turn again to regard her pursuers. The lead goblin lay crumpled upon the ground, head twisted at an awkward angle. Standing above him was a tall lithe woman with a dancer’s physique, wrapped in the purest white jumpsuit, with a golden pony tail protruding from the back of her veiled head. The strange woman Never stopped moving, crashing a leg into the midsection of the next goblin that doubled the creature over allowing her to drop a solid open hand strike to the back of its neck with another sickening crunch that sent its oversized head lolling at an impossible angle as it too veered to the stones. The white shadow spun and lunged at the third goblin piercing its eye with two outstretched fingers and stopping it in its tracks.
Slowly, she drew herself up and turned to the stunned innkeeper. “Are you unharmed?” she asked in Ameiko’s native tongue, much to her continued surprise.
Ameiko continued to stare at the strange woman especially her eyes, which were the only exposed facial feature she could see. The eyes were almond shaped like her own, but the irises were flecked with gold and the skin around them had a slight silvery sheen to it. “Are you unharmed?” She repeated again in the same calming tone.
Ameiko looked over her own frame, although she knew she had not been touched. “I am, I suppose. I owe you a debt, who are you?”
The woman bowed deeply to Ameiko. “I am your White Wolf. One of many who were suppose to arrive from Brinewall… I am not certain why the others have not arrived. I am your protector. I am sorry that it took me so long to arrive at your side”
Ameiko looked at the sprawled goblin corpses, dispatched so easily by this strange woman with her bare hands- even though she carried a sword across her back. “You’ve done an admirable job of it, but why are you here?”
Ameiko realized that she had been asking that question quite often in the last month. The cowled woman cocked her head strangely, “Has your father not told you? Have you not heard from the kami? I am not certain of how this could be. Do you not know who you are?”
The innkeeper stomped her foot in indignation. “I am well aware of who I am! I don’t know who you are!”
The woman looked at her for a moment as if she wanted to say something else, but just lingered in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes before saying, “It is not a conversation for this time. Let us get you safely back to the Rusty Dragon. It will be easier to protect you there than these open alleys. Stay close to me Ameiko and you will not come to harm.”
Seeing little choice, Ameiko followed close, but one question lingered. Who was she?
The door crashed open and Ameiko jumped. Behind her, the white clad woman dropped into a low fighting stance, although Ameiko wondered how the unarmed woman would approach a fight with the heavily armored man who entered the inn carrying the limp form. “He’s not a threat.” The bard reassured her protector.
Janther proceeded directly to the staircase with Jylesse in his arms, marched up the stairs and entered an unoccupied room. Behind him a slender elf slid through the door quickly taking aim with his drawn bow on each occupant and then slowly lowering his weapon and smiling at each of the women present. “Well met Ameiko and friends.”
“Do I know you?” Ameiko replied, for she knew few elves personally.
In a single deft move the elf flipped the bow over his shoulder. “No, you do not, but you are a friend of Shalelu and thus a friend of mine.”
Ameiko was perplexed, she hadn’t seen the elven ranger in close to a year. “Are you Shalelu’s….”
“Cousin.” The elf responded, before she could finish.
The loud clank of boots from the stairs ended their brief conversation. Janther was withdrawing a pouch from beneath the breastplate of his armor. He dropped five gold coins on the bar. “Jylesse stays in that room alone, until fully recovered.”
He dropped a stack of five gold coins beside it. “Bethana sees to her wounds and well being.”
He dropped five gold coins beside that. “I want five wineskins of your finest ale by tomorrow morning.”
His gaze lingered upon the elf for a few moments and then he dropped two more stacks of five gold. “The first is for Aervin’s room and board the next is for a dwarf, a bald grey skinned one, for drinks or food or whatever.”
Ameiko absent mindedly turned over the small fortune of gold spread across her bar and noticed the devil head imprinted on all of the gold coins. Instantly alarmed she glared at Janther. “This is not Korvosa. Here we do not appreciate Cheliaxian influence.”
Janther waved his armored arm dismissively. “I don’t know what a ‘Korvosa’ is and gold spends the same anywhere, devil stamped or not. I’ll be gone by morning. I’m not trying to convert anyone or spread the diabolic influence of Thrune. I didn’t come here to save anyone.”
He dropped five more coins on the bar. “Keep the drinks coming until I can no longer accept them, and for the elf too.”
With a sigh, Ameiko slid all the coins into her till and tapped two mugs, sliding an ale to Janther and an elven wine to Aervin. Janther moved to his corner table and began shoving items into his back pack and cursed mightily under his breath. He would need to see the baker in the morning for hard tack or biscuits and the butcher for salted beef, he could not stay. Ameiko came up behind him and set the second full mugs on the table. “You don’t need to run from here.”
Janther only snorted as he drew the sack closed and drained his first flagon. Ameiko sighed, “Bethana told me you saved her and how many others?”
“I didn’t save anyone! Not her, not you, not your town! That is not why I am here!” He held up an extended armored hand, fingers extended, “Make certain- five wineskins ready by morning.”
Ameiko nodded solemnly and wandered back behind the bar. The White Wolf focused her gaze upon her. “He does not want to be saved.”
The bard stared at her strange bodyguard. “Can he be saved?”
The white clad defender stared intently at the dark haired man, “Perhaps, but it is not our responsibility.”
Ameiko remembered back to another dark haired man that she could not save, who she felt she should have, and stared angrily at her protector. She was only returned a calm golden look and polite reply, “I know about Alder, and he was not your responsibility either. You have a greater destiny than this man.”
Aervin could not be certain how long they had been drinking together, but Janther rocked unstably across the table and yet Ameiko still diligently delivered the drinks to their table. More of the locals had filtered in and some had even worked up the courage to approach the elf and thank him for his efforts against the goblins, until Janther roared curses at them. It was the woman who entered that caught the elf’s keen eye. Her hair was a fiery red and the curves of her breasts through the loosely tied bodice, which exceeded those of any elven woman he had ever met, fascinated him. He had never been among humans before this journey and as Ameiko approached with yet another round of drinks he looked up at her delicate almond eyes and dark hair and then over again to the newest arrival. “You humans come in such wondrous variety.”
Ameiko followed his gaze and sighed deeply. “Shayliss. She is bad news my friend, and if rumor is to be believed- and in this case I suspect it is, not the freshest flower.”
But Aervin’s dazzled mind did not follow. The woman seemed at the moment both determined and lost, which puzzled the elf. When she cast her glance across the table he shared with Janther she became fixated and began to approach. Ameiko sighed again. “Whatever she says, just don’t let her take him with her.” She jerked a finger towards the drunk knight.
The archer nodded as he stood up, taking a few steps around the table. Just as the red haired woman arrived he gave the startled and off balance Janther a mighty shove toppling him to the floor and out of sight as Ameiko returned to the bar shaking her head. “Are you one of the heroes of Sandpoint?” the woman asked, batting her eyes.
Aervin locked his silvery eyes on hers, but averted his gaze slightly as he remembered how nervous the humans in the guard had become with his monochromatic stare. “I don’t know the heroes of Sandpoint.” He replied, taking a deep draught.
“The goblin slayers.” She responded, sliding up beside him and resting a bare arm across his lean muscular shoulders.
Aervin sat in Janther’s chair and ask the man tried to rise he gave him a swift kick that rolled him back to the floor. “I killed a few goblins.” he confirmed.
“I have a problem, and I need a hero.” she cooed as she wasted no time dropping into his lap.
“What kind of problem?” Aervin asked, suddenly nervous and groping for his elven wine which was still across the table.
“There is a rat. A rat the size of a goblin! In the basement of my shop and my father is away, helping to clear goblin corpses from the streets. I need to access the stock in the basement, but the rat could kill me and….and….” The woman began sobbing uncontrollably on the elf’s shoulder.
Aervin laid two reassuring hands on her shoulders and raised her head. “I will help you. Certainly I can kill a goblin sized rat… I have hunted wild boar and slain wolves. Rats should prove no…”
Before he could finish she grabbed him by the pointed ears and planted a kiss on his thin lips. The Rusty Dragon became quiet for a full minute, as all eyes turned towards the couple. The clamor began again as Shayliss grabbed the elf’s hand and dragged him towards the door. “It must be now! You need to come with me and kill it now! While my father is away.”
Aervin allowed himself to be lead from the bar. Ameiko rolled her eyes as she lost sight of him beyond the threshold and muttered, “I hope Shelelu will forgive me.”
The elderly man bulled through the door of the Rusty Dragon in his fine silk robes waving his mahogany walking stick threateningly. “Where in the hells is my daughter?” he roared, scanning the room with a predatory eye.
The residents of Sandpoint present all dropped into silence, many moving as close to an interior wall as possible and none making eye contact with the newest arrival. The only sound was the snoring of Janther who had managed to haul himself back to a chair and down two more tankards after the elf had departed before collapsing into a heap on the tabletop again. The noise coming from the man drew the older noble’s irritated gaze and he stalked towards the corner table. Before he reached his destination, Ameiko emerged from the kitchen, dripping ladle in hand. “Father, what are you doing here?”
The older man waved his dark cane at the passed out knight. “Why do you still associate with dogs like this? I thought you would have experienced enough shame with those Varasian thugs you left town with Sandru and the other one… what was his name….?”
Ameiko’s mood suddenly turned as dark as the older man’s. “No another word of him father! I warn you!”
The elder man cracked a wry smile, “Who? That dog there or the other rabid pack you ran with?”
Ameiko took a measured step toward her father ladle raised as if it were a sword. “If you have come here to insult my customers then you are well aware of where the door is! Don’t let it hit you in the a….”
The old man suddenly switched to his native language, although the ire in his voice remained. “It is an insult that this dog sleeps under any Kaijitsu roof “, he turned and spat on the unconscious man’s head, “however, in this place that shame is yours alone. You will be coming with me to Magnimar, we will be leaving immediately.”
Ameiko barely held her rage as the spittle fell upon Janther. She knew little of the man’s pain, but she did know what he had done in defense of this town, while she was certain her father huddled safely in his manor, not worrying about anyone save for himself. Ameiko had been in the kitchen cooking her favorite recipe of fish and potato soup as part of her plan to entice Janther to stay in Sandpoint for a bit longer. “Like hell I will! You may go where you please father and, at this moment, the further from here that is the happier I will be!” She replied in the same language.
The old man reached out and grabbed a handful of her shoulder length hair and viciously yanked her head as he spun back towards the door. “It was not a request daughter. You are coming and you will finally learn your place! It is passed time for you to learn obedience!”
With his back turned the man did not see the ladle rise to strike him, but he did feel the slap of hot soup strike the back of his head even as the ladle itself was stopped midstrike by a white wrapped forearm. With a quick hand slap the ladle flew from Ameiko’s hand and a second quick strike to the interior of the old man’s wrist forced him to release the tavern keeper’s hair. “Lonjiku, Ameiko, Stop this! This is no way for a Kaijitsu to behave! In public no less. There are responsibilities of nobility even in places as insignificant as this!”
Both Ameiko and her father turned to stare at the white garbed woman who had disarmed them both. They were stunned by her command of their language, but Lonjiku, enraged at being publicly denied yet again raised his cane and struck at the White wolf. Skillfully she spun a forearm to connect with his descending arm. He almost lost the cane at the sudden impact, but he was not afforded the opportunity as the woman’s other hand came across, wrenched it from his grasp and hurled it toward the door. The crowd of regulars let out a collective gasp, as they had never seen anyone dare to lay hands on Lonjiku before. “I am not your enemy!” the woman protested.
Lonjiku glared at her with hatred although he noticed between the folds of her head covering the almond shaped golden eyes. “You may not be a mongrel like him, but you are no friend of the Kaijitsus!”
“I am one of the Kaijitsu White Wolves.” she protested in a level voice, “I am here to…”
Aware of how much attention was being paid to his continuing public humiliation, Lonjiku made his way back to the doorway and picked up his expensive walking stick. “You are nothing!” he yelled back at her before ducking back out the door, “And like my daughter, you should learn when to hold your tongue! I need no woman’s counsel. Ameiko you‘re now as dead to me as your mother!”
The golden haired woman turned back to the stunned Ameiko. “Are you well?”
Ameiko was trying to hold back the tears at the mention of her dead mother, but at the same time her bardic mind was awhirl with newly developing questions. “You speak our language.”
“Of course. I am of Minkai.”
“You said you were one of the Kaijitsu White Wolves. As a Kaijitsu, I have no idea what that means and I’ve never heard my father mention them either. Are there more of you?”
“You were not suppose to know we are here. In that regard, and some others I was sent here to accomplish I have failed. There were to be five of us, I was the first to arrive. The others were to take there posts once they arrived from Brinewall, but that was more than twenty years ago. Something has gone wrong, so I am tasked with the duties of five in one while I remain here.”
Ameiko sighed deeply, it was always the same question. “But why are you here?”
Janther clawed his way back to consciousness and raised his pounding head from the table. As he looked around the inn he realized it was probably some time in the mid morning, judging by the light from the windows and the meager amount of patrons present in the common room. Ameiko stared at him from behind the bar sipping on a cup of tea. Quickly he gathered his things, slinging sword, pack and tarnished shield across his back. He grabbed the lance from where it leaned against the wall and stalked uneasily to the bar. As he approached Ameiko tapped the five full wineskins lined up neatly across the left side of the bar. “Per your request.”
She also slid a small bag across the wooden surface to him. “I made you some cookies as well.”
“I didn’t pay for any cookies.”
Ameiko flashed him a coy smile. “You paid more than it takes for the girl upstairs, the elf- who had half a gold worth of ale before he left and a dwarf that I haven’t even seen yet. Take the cookies.”
She spun one of his devil headed gold coins across the bar to him as he grabbed up the wineskins tying them together along his belt and reluctantly stuffing the bag of cookies atop his pack. The coin danced and then fell devil head up. Ameiko looked at him meaningfully “If you are running from the hell knights,” which seemed a logical conclusion to her based on where the coin proclaimed he was obviously from, “the south road is the wrong choice. Korvosa has its own order station there. Rarely do they come as far north as Magnimar and never to Sandpoint.”
The knight snorted, “I’m not hunted by hell knights.”
The distain with which he spat the last word out left another question in Ameiko’s mind, one she let remain unasked at this moment. She stared at his hardened features and tried to figure him out. “What are you twenty years old? What could you have done in those years that is so horrible that you have to flee now or punish yourself the way that you do?’
He slammed a fist on the bar. “You are not my mother! I do not need a lecture from you on my choices.”
Ameiko leaned back a bit, not from fear, but in order to give Janther space to flail about in impotent anger- she had done the same many years ago when she was trying to deal with her own loss. “I understand your pain. I had similar tragedy. Sandpoint can be a haven for you, as it was for me. Do you have any idea how many lives you saved the other day when the goblins attacked? You are a hero to these people.”
Janther shoved the devil headed gold coin across the bar with such force that it flew across the bar and smacked into the far wall. “I’m no hero. I didn’t come here to save anyone. Whatever you think you know of me, with your grand analysis, you are wrong. Our business here is concluded.”
He drew himself up and stormed towards the door. “If you are running from yourself then no road will be long enough.” Ameiko called after him.
He stagger stepped slower towards the door. “You are not my mother.”
“If I were, I am certain that I would be wondering what had happened to you.” the bard responded and that stopped him dead in tracks just two steps from the doorway.
He half turned his head, enough to lock eyes with her, “And I would tell her that I died long ago.”
He stormed from the Rusty Dragon and Ameiko could only hope that he would eat the cookies and return. It wasn’t redemption for her, she didn’t know if saving this man could redeem her to herself, but she certainly sensed a kindred spirit and knew that she had to reach out to him. She hadn’t even offered the fish stew that she had labored over, but somehow she knew that he wouldn’t even have tasted it and she could not have watched him walk from town knowing that her best attempt had failed… even still she drifted towards the door and did just that.
keeping an eye on this one.
Jylesse awoke in the comfortable bed. A cup of hot tea rested on the low table nearby and her injured arm had been bandaged and well tended. She tried to rotate it gingerly and while stiff she still had a full range of motion. As she tested the arm she noticed that she still gripped her whip and wondered why the same person who had carefully stacked her belt pouches and other gear hadn’t bothered to stack her weapon with it, after all they had neatly stacked all of her daggers.
She stood wondering how she came to be in this room, she recognized it as a rental in the Rusty Dragon, but the last thing she remembered was the great rodent leaping upon her- no, she remembered one more thing, the handsome noble who was fleeing for his life and how he kept fleeing when his pursuers turned upon her. Had he come back and brought her here? She replaced her stripped gear along the curves of her body, making certain at least two of her daggers were out of sight and looped the whip easily along her belt. She then headed to the main room to get some answers.
Aervin smiled to himself as he approached the doorway of the Rusty Dragon. His right eye was beginning to swell and he was certain it was becoming discolored, but humans were so passionate it was invigorating to be amongst them! It was like a festive dance that never seemed to end- a constant celebration of life. Certainly they spent little time asking questions he have found out over the course of the last evening both to his pleasure and his dismay.
He noticed near the end of the street a large armored figure with a shield and sword slung across his back. “Janther!” he called out to his recent ally, but the man kept walking without so much as turning.
Aervin shrugged, between the distance and his eye swelling closed he simply assumed he had made a mistake. Taking a moment to orient his mind he remembered why he had come here, certainly not for his own entertainment and if Shalelu did not show up soon he would have to make haste back to his people. They would be needing his bow. Sobered by the reality of the suspected peril rising in Celwynvian he ducked into the inn to calculate how much more time he could afford to spend in this wonderful place.
“Deput…” The ring of steel on steel drowned out the rest of the word and Belor waited a moment for the sound to dissipate.
He tried again as the sturdy dwarf , who was working furiously at an anvil with his back turned to the doorway, raised his muscular ashen armor. “Deputy!”
This time the Sheriff of Sandpoint was truly annoyed, because he was certain as the rhythm of hammering picked up to an almost unbelievable pace that he was intentionally being drowned out. He sighed, he had hoped for a better reception, but expected this. Belor took out one of the small linen squares he kept with him for a bandage and dunked it in the barrel of cold water near the forge, he held it over the bald gray head and squeezed releasing the water in a sudden cold splash.
The irate dwarf spun on him immediately leveling the small blacksmithing hammer at the Shoanti’s chest, and in that rage Belor was thankful that the dwarf was several feet from the larger hammer he used for fighting. “How dare you interrupt my toil!”
“You were ignoring me.”
The dwarf snorted, “You, and you whole stinking people, are deserving of being ignored.”
“I need your help.” The sheriff requested evenly.
“You had my help. The goblins have been run off. I killed a few and saved your kin, as I promised. Now leave me to my craft.” the gray dwarf responded, turning back and beginning to raise the hammer again, but keeping a wary eye over his shoulder to watch for a second drenching.
“Deputy Rathos, I need your help again. What do you think that was the other day?”
“Goblins being goblins I suspect.”
“It was a coordinated raid. They were after something, and goblins couldn’t have planned this alone.”
The dwarf turned back at the sheriff with a skeptical sneer. “There wasn’t any coordination to it. They were chasing dogs, women, children, cats… whatever caught their eye.”
The sheriff sighed, “For a while I thought the same thing, but thirty five goblins would not attack a town this size without purpose…”
The dwarf interrupted, “Goblins do just about everything without purpose.”
“They stole bones. The former high priest’s bones, the one who died when our old temple burned down. Now why would anyone steal those particular bones?”
The dwarf thought long on that. “Necromancy would be my guess, but one skeleton wouldn’t be much of a threat.”
“After the raid the militia and I did a sweep of the town, checking for any stray goblins and discovered the crypt had been broken into. Two animated skeletons were left waiting for us, I could have used your hammer then, armed with swords they were able to injure four of my men before we took them down. Why would you leave two skeletons to get one?”
“Something else then.”
The sheriff nodded grimly. “I need you. I’m running out of men and I suspect the worst is yet to come. I have a … scout… who has just returned. She has some information that I would like you to hear, because if what I fear is almost upon us happens.” He waved a hand around the dark smithy, “Your crafting days are over.”
The dwarf growled and looked meaningfully at his large iron mallet by the forge, “So I suppose I should bring my hammer.”
"What happened to your eye?" Ameiko asked as the handsome elf entered the Rusty Dragon.
"A slight misunderstanding between myself and Mr. Vinder as to the nature of the service I was rendering to his daughter." Aerin replied approaching the bar, but stopped to bow as he noticed the rainbow clad woman entering the common room from the opposite side, "It is good to see you well lady. Janther was most concerned."
Jylesse looked at the warrior elf quizzically, she was quite certain that she had never seen him before. Slowly she cast her glance to the corner table where the drunken knight made his home and realized that he was gone along with all of his belongings including the eight foot impractical lance. She cast her questioning stare over to Ameiko and just pointed to the empty table. Ameiko shrugged helplessly, "He brought you here to recover, drank himself into his normal stupor and then insisted that he had to leave."
"And you let him go?" Jylesse protested, inadvertently reaching for the coiled whip at her waist.
When she realized what she was doing she jerked her hand away from the weapon in embarrassment, she was among friends here. "I said the only words I had to make him stay. He left anyway."
"You should have served him your fish stew!" the beautiful Varasian suggested.
Ameiko smiled wanly, she had thought that very thing herself, "It wouldn't have stopped him." She turned a sideways glance to the elf with the darkening bruise of his eye looking worse by the minute, "It might make your eye feel better though."
Slowly she ladled a bowl of the stew and slid it to the injured man and then turned her full attention to him. "I warned you about that girl! So what exactly did Ven misunderstand?"
"Well he seemed quite distressed about my search for giant rats in his basement, which I suppose is understandable since his daughter had no clothes on... I now realize that it is uncommon for humans to hunt naked."
Ameiko shook her head helplessly, but Jylesse couldn't let the story go at that. "Ven is known for his temper. You are lucky to have escaped with just a black eye. You'll be lucky to avoid being tarred and feathered and run out of town if you've upset him."
"That shouldn't be much of a concern. First, he never would have struck me at all if that basement hadn't have been so confined and cluttered... or if I had been wearing my helm. Secondly, we parted as friends."
"No helm?" Jylesse asked, but Ameiko knew the younger Vinder girl too well.
"I suppose you were naked too?" the bartender stated, slapping her forehead.
"Naturally. It is not the elven way to refuse hospitality and comfort when it is offered."
Jylesse looked to Ameiko in amazement, "I'm surprised Ven didn't kill him."
Ameiko looked from Jylesse back to the elf, "Why didn't Ven kill you?"
Aerin wiggled his long slender fingers at them, "Elven charm."
Janther saw the bridge ahead and muttered a quiet and insincere thanks to his goddess that he would be able to escape from this place so desperately in need of a savior. His mock prayer turned quickly to a curse as he noticed the poorly kept wooden sign flanking the city limits depicting a pair of knights hoisting foaming flagons. This town was suppose to be his refuge, a quiet place where nothing was expected of him and even less asked of him. It had turned into a perpetual nightmare of saving people and being praised and looked to as some sort of local hero. The accolades bothered him because he knew that they were false and the only thing he had left to cling to was his integrity, but now he had acted to stem a goblin attack and these people would turn to him again and again to protect them or solve their problems.
He was not made for such tasks, he reminded himself. Once he had thought such grand things, but reality had taught him a harsh lesson. Just thinking of such things made him want to drain one of his five wineskins, but he would need them to keep his past at bay once he crossed the bridge ahead of him for he had no idea how far the next town might be, the one he hoped would allow him to fade into obscurity and die alone.
When the frantic woman approached him carrying a baby and dragging her young son behind her, it was the perfect reminder of why he needed to flee. "Are you one of the heroes of Sandpoint?" she asked, racing right in front of him with such haste she almost yanked her son from his feet.
Janther extended his burly armored arm and firmly moved her out of his path. "No."
He kept walking toward the bridge increasing his pace to a more determined march. "But your armor, the sword, the black shield.... you have to be! Please help me!"
Janther ground his teeth together and never removed his gaze from the bridge- his salvation from this seaside hell. Suddenly, the woman sprang in front of him again and this time she had yanked the boy from his feet. Her eyes were streaming tears as she tore the sleeves from her young son's jerking. "Look what they did to my son!"
Both of the boy's arms were covered with needle like puncture marks, dozens of them, blood flowed freely from the fresh wounds. Janther stopped and growled through clenched teeth, "Where?"
"After the attack on the festival, my son said he heard noises and...."
"Where?" the knight asked more forcefully.
The woman raised an arm and pointed to one of the more modest homes back toward the Rusty Dragon. "Take the boy to the temple, he needs healing, I will meet you there."
"My husband is still there. His name is Alergast. He was in a rage and wouldn't leave with us... please he needs help... he's only a farmer."
"Go to the temple."
Janther reversed his direction, but his pace was no less determined as he stalked up to the house. The door still swung lazily on it's hinges. Cautiously, the warrior stepped inside. Aside from the door being ajar nothing seemed out of the ordinary. If the husband was left inside he was incredibly silent for a man enraged. Janther set his lance in the corner and girded his shield to his forearm and drew his large sword. He called out Alergast's name, but the house remained quiet. He quickly surveyed the small home assuring himself that the common area and master bedroom were clear of foes as was the pantry. The final room he checked proved to be what he assumed was the boy's room. A small dog lay dead near the foot of the bed a copious pool of blood pooled around the broken pole that had been jammed into it's ear.
Across the small room the lower half of a man's body protruded from the closet. Janther called Alergast's name again, but the body neither moved nor responded. The knight set his shield aside and grabbed one of the legs by the calf and gave it a firm tug. The body seemed wedged into some type of hole in the closet floor. Janther sheathed his large sword, it wouldn't do him much good in this confined area in any case, and grabbed on to both of the man's legs giving a mighty pull and dragging the man fully back into the room.
Janther already knew the man was dead from the rigidity and coldness of the legs. But he was not prepared for the gruesome carnage he saw as he turned the body over, the face from the nose down was torn away, or chewed off. The eyes were intact and wide-eyed in final surprise, the throat has been torn out and part of the upper chest had been gnawed away. His brain was still paralyzed by the horror of it when the high pitched shriek was followed by a manic miniature greenish creature springing from the hole brandishing a crudely fashioned blade.
Instinctively, Janther threw up his shield arm despite the fact his shield had been discarded and the dagger ricocheted off of the well crafted but poorly maintained steel of his vambrace. The furious goblin was a whirlwind of desperation stabbing repeatedly with the make shift blade in a series of futile clangs against the full armor. It took a moment for Janther to get his bearing and then he delivered a powerful cross with his gauntleted sword arm to the creature's jaw sending it in a spinning tumble of blood and broken teeth to the floor. Incredibly, it rose to a crouch, turned back toward him with an impossibly large, now gap toothed grin and launched itself back at him with a feral growl.
This time Janther was not taken by surprise and caught the creature mid-flight with a stiff open hand that knocked it to the ground half in and half out of the closet. Furiously, the knight grabbed the closet door , put all of his armored weight behind it and slammed it into the goblin's mid section with a sickening crunch. For good measure he repeated the punishing blows another four times as the legs jerked and flopped with each devastating slam of the door.
Slowly the fallen knight caught his breath and his gaze fell back on to the dead farmer. Gently he propped the gruesome body up to a sitting position at the foot of the bed then took a seat opposite it against the closet door heedless of the growing pool of goblin blood. he stared into the ravaged face with the surprised eyes and stoically opened one of the wineskins and began to drain it in constant desperate draughts. When he was finished he threw it aside and opened a second and began to drink.
"I'm sorry I failed you again Sir Ursion. You all die while I remain... what a penance... no, what a just punishment the Inheritor has inflicted upon me for my failed valor."
He drank on staring at the dead man.
"Songbird!" The words cut across the bar like a singing blade.
Aerin began to turn towards the voice, but Ameiko caught him by the chin and sang a quick song of healing that seeped into the elf's face and dissipated the prominent bruise around his eye. Ameiko had intended to make the impetuous elf deal with the pain as a reminder to stay away from Shayliss Vinder, but now that this other elf had arrived she could not risk the town of Sandpoint having this one upset with them. The silver eyed elf nodded to the barkeep with appreciation, but she could see in his face that he was wondering why she hadn't used this magic sooner to ease his pain. He had a lot still to learn Ameiko decided.
"Shalelu! Cousin it is good to meet you in this place at last. I had almost thought the diviners wrong in sending me here." he said as he spun toward her with a bright smile.
The new woman crossed the bar quickly to embrace him. She was tall, as most elves tended to be, with long flaxen hair in a topknot to keep it out of her pale blue eyes. She wore brown leather armor with a brown cloak and had a bow every bit as magnificent as his. "I thought you would have been apprenticed to a master bard by now cousin," she said as she released the embrace, "You were gifted with the voice for song magic."
Aerin blushed a little at the compliment, "No. Archers are needed, not storytellers. I am training with the army."
Shalelu looked at her cousin long and hard with more than a little disappointment. "The army? What enemy are the elves building an army to fight?"
Aerin looked around skeptically at the humans around Ameiko with the White Wolf standing several paces behind, Jylesse not far down the bar and the Sandpoint regulars. He switched to their native elven language, "This may not be the place to discuss this."
"And are these our foes? They don't speak Elvish, so it seems easy enough for you to speak plainly here. Why have the sent you here? You are young and inexperienced, it seems a dangerous road for one not done training."
Aerin sighed, "They were afraid that you would not listen to anyone else in light of the way you left and the fact that you have never returned."
"So why seek me out at all? I have found peace here."
Aerin looked around skeptically at these people who lived such simple, short lives. This Shayliss he had enjoyed time with would be dead before he was fully matured. He would outlive her grandchildren's grandchildren, what peace could be found in a land of such constant and predictable death? "Although archers may be easily trained skilled rangers are much more difficult to train. You are needed."
"I cannot return. I am needed here."
"Shadows rise in Celwynvian cousin. The darkest shadows... we have a year, perhaps two to fortify our position before..."
"No. My place is here, protecting these people."
"You are not still searching for that man are you? He is most likely dead. You know this."
"It is not about him."
"It has always been about him! Your leaving, your being here. You are protecting his people just like you thought he was protecting ours."
"He stood against the dragon. He could have left before and didn't. Why did he leave? Don't you wonder?"
"He wasn't my father. He wasn't yours either if you need reminding."
"He taught me the woodcraft, not the elves. I need answers from him."
"Shalelu, cousin, he is dead. The People need you."
"These people need me. You have no idea the carnage that is about to befall them."
Wow, really well written! I am running Rise of the Runelords myself, and it's really inspiring. Thank you!
"What do you suppose they are arguing about?" Jylesse asked Ameiko and the silent White Wolf, although she was starting to suspect that she should not expect any response from the latter.
Ameiko shrugged helplessly, "Something they don't want us to be privy to if they are speaking in Elvish."
Sheriff Belor Hemlock entered the Rusty Dragon then trailing the short and brawny bald headed ashen dwarf. Ameiko instantly drew a draught of her strongest ale ready to slide it to the new arrival, she had been paid in advance after all and knew enough of what dwarves favored.
"Shalelu, Aerin may we have words now? Jylesse, Ameiko and...", the sheriff looked quizzically at the white swathed woman with the golden hair, "I don't think I know you."
"You were not meant to." The woman replied calmly leveling her golden eyes on the man in a penetrating judgment of his character.
Ameiko cleared her throat and threw a reproachful look at the unorthodox warrior woman and handed the foaming mug to the confused Rathos, who let out a strange snort or perhaps it was a laugh. "She is a protector of my... family, apparently. She saved me from several goblins."
Belor nodded, although he had locked gaze with the woman's intense stare and nodded slightly in acceptance. "Do you have a name I can call you?"
Ameiko looked back in puzzlement, "Do you?"
"White Wolf will suffice sheriff. Ameiko, you may call me Asami Eiko, or any other name of your choosing."
"Why would you give me this?" Rathos interrupted gruffly and forced the mug back into Ameiko's hands.
"I know dwarves have a love for ale and drunken revelry. Not to worry, Janther has paid for it in advance. You owe nothing for it."
"Girl, I am not a dwarf! I do not drink and cannot be drunk. I do not share the weaknesses of the dwarves. Furthermore, I don't know what a Janther is."
Ameiko stared at him for a moment, she had never known a dwarf to refuse a free ale, granted she had had a limited personal experience, but as a bard and barkeep she realized this refusal was- in its own way- as shocking as the death of Aroden himself. "Janther...tall, armored man... generally ill tempered.... reeks of alcohol."
The "dwarf" snorted again, "The fool human who has no idea how to keep and respect the steel that protects his vitals."
It was Belor's turn to clear his throat. Shalelu and Aerin had drawn close to the group again. "Where is the knight? I expected him to be here as well."
"He left, earlier this morning eyeing roads south it seems." Ameiko replied with a helpless shrug.
"Damn, we could have used his help." Belor cursed, "Shalelu can you tell them what you told me?"
The beautiful elven ranger nodded to him and addressed the gathering, "The attack on Sandpoint is part of some larger scheme. All of the five major goblin tribes in the area are recalling their scouts and hunters. The few I have captured alive talk of a migration and forming an army... none of it makes much sense to hear a goblin speak of it. But the event that sent me here to speak with the sheriff is two fold: many goblin heroes have disappeared- which means they have either been dispatched to make room for someone else to command or they are being gathered in some form of war council, either situation would work out poorly for Sandpoint and the surrounding area. Secondly, I myself came upon a goblin raiding party attacking a farm, not just a random pointless attack as one would expect from the creatures, but coordinated with purpose. They were after the stored grain and livestock... they were seeking provisions to support an army. If all the tribes unite in war we could be faced with six hundred or more goblins gathered in a horde, depending on what directs them this could be disastrous for the region. "
Belor looked around at the gathered Heroes of Sandpoint. "We cannot hope to survive against an assault of these numbers. I can raise, perhaps, twenty militia worthy of the title and the sword they carry. We need you to stand with us."
"What difference would the five of us make?" Jylesse asked motioning to Aerin, Ameiko, Rathos and White Wolf, "We may be able to fend off more than one goblin each, but you are talking about us being outnumbered eight to one or more if this horde gathers."
"We are not going to wait for the horde to gather." Belor stated firmly,"Shalelu is going back into the woods tomorrow to scout and find out where these goblins plan to form this army, and, if the gods are good, who or what is forcing them to unite. I am going to leave at first light to beg Magnimar to send trained soldiers to help defend us. I need you to make your presence felt here. The people of Sandpoint label you as heroes, in my absence your visibility would do much to prevent panic."
"You want them to remain unaware of lurking death?" Aerin questioned.
"Panic would only help whoever is orchestrating this, and with soldiers and Shalelu's work we may be able to yet avert this catastrophe. If we can find out what is trying to unite the goblins and eliminate it... well, goblins alone are a nuisance and any goblin lead threat is manageable."
"Jylesse? Jylesse Kelmarie?" A voice rang from the doorway.
Everyone turned to stare at the dapper noble dressed in his distinctive blue and gold coat, brown hair coifed to frame a handsome face that lit up in recognition as he laid eyes on the olive skinned Varasian woman. Rathos sneered as he recognized the man. "I owe you my life lady. I am Aldern. Aldern Foxglove of Magnimar. Your bravery saved me from the goblins. I would see that debt repaid. Hunt with me on the morrow, I have already secured you the best horse available at the Goblin Squash Stables... yours to keep mind you and my home will ever be open to you."
Jylesse recognized the man as the one who had been running from the goblin when she had intervened during the raid because he had tripped over his own dog. The others looked at him incredulously, as he seemed to be oblivious to both their presence and their unresolved conversation. He approached the woman of his attention boldly, until Belor held out a straight arm to ward him off. "Lord Foxglove, we have urgent business to conclude."
For the first time he seemed to notice the sheriff and was about to respond when another loud voice tore through the inn. "Ameiko I need four filled wineskins."
The words were followed by the unstable staggering form of Janther who barely managed to stumble upright to the bar, where he dropped his lance and grasped the edge for support. Ameiko sighed and moved back toward the bar with the White Wolf trailing her like a ghostly shadow. "What have you done to yourself this time Janther?" she muttered to herself as she went.
The drunken knight scanned the room realizing suddenly that he was not alone here. He nodded in recognition to each individual he recognized, even Shalelu though he had never met her before, until his eyes rested upon Aldern. The sight of the man caused him to fly into an immediate rage that catapulted him towards the noble knocking aside the gray skinned dwarf as his powerful armored ar reached for the man. "You! The man who would flee and leave a woman to be savaged in his place!"
The noble was able to let out a single high pitched shriek as the gauntlet locked around his throat, everyone else was too surprised by the sudden attack to react. With surprisingly little effort, Janther heaved Aldern across the taproom to smash into a table and set of chairs. "Crawl away again mongrel like you did when you expected Jylesse to buy your life with her own!"
The armored warrior stalked toward him again and the stunned noble was crawling, as quickly as he could manage towards the door, "I didn't..." he protested, eyes wide with fear.
"Stop this!" Belor cried out.
Janther was beyond hearing as he paced murderously toward the shaken Aldern. "Flee now as you did then.... run from me fool."
"Rathos, stop him!" the sheriff commanded.
The gray dwarf who had been standing nearby with an entertained smirk on his face, sighed and swelled to twice his normal height. He took two steps reached out a now massive hand and grasped Janther by the head, wrapping his other massive brawny arm around the man's chest pinning his arms. Despite his superior size Rathos grunted trying to restrain the knight's drunken, enraged strength. He nodded to the crawling man, "Fleeing would be a good option... I suggest all the way to that home in Magnimar you spoke of."
But Aldern did not flee, not right away at least. He stared at the barely restrained Janther. "We weren't all clad in thousand gold piece armor or armed with jeweled swords when the goblins attacked! I did what I could."
Rathos groaned against the restrained rage of the drunken knight. "He will kill you if he escapes me and, so you are aware, my size does not last forever."
"But Jylesse I..."
The Varasian woman was looking at the knight, eyes wet with tears for his pain, not focused on Aldern. "Just go." she begged him.
"Slink away snake!" Janther roared as the noble disappeared around the doorway, but his rage quickly faded as the man disappeared and Rathos released him to fall to the floor.
Janther slammed an armored fist into the wooden planks of the floor several times repeating the word "Coward" in ever diminishing volume.
Ameiko gasped as she realized Janther wasn't directing his anger at the craven noble... Aldern was the reflection of Janther's past. The knight had been striking out at himself... he wanted to kill himself.
I am now addicted. Must have more.
"What do you mean you aren't staying?" growled the gray skinned dwarf.
Janther looked up at him finishing the mug of ale Ameiko had tried to serve Rathos earlier. "I was not aware that the words 'I am leaving this town in the morning' had another meaning."
"Sheriff Belor just asked you to stay and help protect the town."
"And I promised him nothing! I can't stay here. I can't do the things he wants done and, unlike you, I don't owe these people anything more than what I have already given. Why are you going to try to stop me again?" There was an undeniable threat behind Janther's question.
Rathos just waved a calloused gray hand at him in dismissal, "Bah! I didn't want to stop you the first time. The way you treat your armor is deserving of a beating, but when it buckles on you in combat or rusts at the strap anchors and falls from your body I suppose you will have learned that lesson better than I can teach it."
Aerin walked over and leaned against the table and whispered to the knight, "Do you know what would happen to these people if six hundred goblins fell upon them in a coordinated fashion lead by the gods only know what?"
Janther stared at him an snarled, "Better than you do and do you think it makes any difference if we stand with them or don't? Maybe with two dozen elven archers and twenty mounted cavaliers you could hold this town. Look at yourselves, a smith, a fledgling mage, an elven archer- who has yet to finish his training, and her." Janther motioned to the white clad woman standing discretely behind the bar, "And, I thought you said that you were leaving soon yourself."
"I promised Shalelu I would watch these people in her stead until she finished her scouting of the tribes. Furthermore, the reason I came for Shalelu in the first place is that in war it is more important to have the right people than the higher number of people."
Janther snorted and reached for a full mug, he had made certain several were delivered to the table, and gestured grandly to the assembled people in the room. "And you think these are the right people to save this town from a horde of anything? I think you just made a more compelling point for our departure than I did."
"I think we are the right people to save Sandpoint, if it comes to that." The feminine voice rang out from beside him and with a loud clang his shield was thrown on to the table upsetting several of the mugs that had been sitting there, "Or at least some of us use to be."
Jylesse leaned over him and stabbed a finger into the center of the tar covered shield, "What use to be here Sir Janther?"
"Another obligation I could not live up to." he muttered in a subdued voice.
"You were someone who swore an oath, most likely an oath to protect people just like these, now is your chance to honor that oath! You were trained as a knight, that much is obvious, you know how to fight these sorts of battles."
Janther stood unsteadily, took his shield from the table and glared at the beautiful Varasian woman. "Ameiko, I need those wineskins now! Listen closely Jylesse because this is the last time I want to tell you, I am no sir. I swore an oath to protect people better than this, lords, knights and nobility. I failed. I cannot save this place. I couldn't save Sir Ursion. I couldn't save the woman and her baby on the street a hundred paces from where I sat when the goblins attacked, I couldn't save Alergast..."
Jylesse held up her bandaged arm, "You saved me."
Aerin still across the table gave a slight nod to the woman. Janther stood paralyzed for a few minutes then grabbed up his pack and his lance. "Enjoy your life."
He stormed to the bar and began tapping his hand fiercely on the top as Ameiko laid each wineskin out after she had filled it from the tap. "Janther you can't leave, not now." Jylesse called to him.
He didn't even bother to look at her, in truth he couldn't he was barely keeping his tears at bay as it was. After what seemed like an eternity, he scooped up the refilled wineskins dropped three devil headed gold coins on the bar and briskly walked out. As he did Jylesse fell sobbing into Aerin's waiting arms and Rathos just looked disdainfully from that embrace to the door and back again. "Can you bring him back to us?" Ameiko asked the ghostly figure she was beginning to get accustom to being her shadow.
"I doubt it. He is not my concern."
Ameiko turned to face the golden eyed warrior. "Asami you told me that he was not our responsibility and that he did not want to be saved. This town's survival, my survival- because I will not flee my town, may depend on this man. My responsibility to my community demands that we try to bring him back to us. Can you do that?"
The White Wolf sighed, "I may. He is lost, but he was once a man of honor. I can speak to that honor if it still exists, but he is a broken man- perhaps a dead man. For those things I can do nothing except put an end to his suffering."
Ameiko eyed her protector for a few moments. "So be it."
Aerin stopped at the corner of the newly built cathedral and looked down the length of Church Street to the wooden palisade far in the distance. He motioned for the multicolored woman to follow him as he retraced his steps back across the plaza looking alternately down High Street and Tower Street. "What's bothering you?" Jylesse finally asked the elf after his wordless silver gazing had stretched on for several minutes.
"The goblin attack erupted here and caught everyone by surprise according to the sheriff."
"That's how he explained it."
"I walked the palisade this morning with Shalelu before she set off into the wilderness and there were no signs that the goblins jumped the fence. So where did they come from and why here? If they came down from the north palisade someone would have seen them and raised an alarm. They didn't come up the cliff and they couldn't have gotten this deep into town from the other two bridges without anyone noticing. Plus it is a stupid place to attack for the purpose of murder or to gather supplies, it is a bowshot from the garrison. Entering from the south would have made more sense, with everyone gathered here they could have made off with a quarter of the town and murdered a dozen people before anyone knew what was going on."
"Rathos said that the sheriff told him some bones were taken and the graveyard is behind the cathedral here. This was their target not plunder or murder."
"The question is how did thirty goblins spring up in the middle of your people, where everyone was gathered and nobody noticed their arrival."
Jylesse looked around at the carts, crates and tents that still stood from the festival. It was an excellent question that no one had asked yet. At the Swallowtail Festival people were coming in and out of the plaza from every conceivable roadway and alley and no one had seen any sign of the goblins until they did literally spring up among them. "You're thinking magic?"
Aerin shook his head. "No. I don't think anyone who could teleport thirty goblins would waste the effort on such a raid, they would certainly have magic at their disposal that could wipe this town of the map without needing to deal with aggravation of trying to keep a goblin tribe organized. Elves have never outnumbered their opponents in any battle, but we fight by becoming the environment. We become the trees and the bushes. Twenty archers who change from foliage to warriors before an enemy knows you are there mean twenty less foes when the fight starts."
"But how could they ..."
Aerin flipped over an empty crate large enough for two of the scrawny creatures to fit into. "They were brought in. Hidden in boxes, or smuggled in on a wagon, or both- by someone who would not be questioned or noticed."
"You think someone in town was an accomplice? That someone in here wanted the people murdered and the town burned to the ground? I can't believe that... I know these people. I live here."
The elf shrugged and pointed to the walls of the garrison barely visible over the smaller wooden buildings. "They wanted something, but not the destruction of the town... they orchestrated the attack in a position they could not hold, but yes there is a traitor somewhere... it is the only way goblins arrive here unnoticed."
Jylesse cast a glance around the plaza, but could find no flaw with the soldier's logic. "Damn Sczarni!" She muttered and then grabbed the elf by the elbow, "Come with me we are going to the Fatman's Feedbag to talk to my friend Jubrayl... keep an arrow in your bow."
For the second time Janther staggered toward his salvation freedom from this town and for the second time he was stopped by a woman appearing before him. This one was clad in white and fell to the ground from a rooftop in front of him. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, and drew herself up to a dignified stance. "I would ask you to stay."
The knight raised an armored arm to push her aside, but she raised an arm to ward him off, "Don't touch me."
Janther lowered his arm and decided to walk around her. "So you refuse and run away like that man in the bar you had nothing but contempt for?"
The knight spun around angrily, "I am nothing like that fool!"
"You are worse." The White Wolf stated plainly, "He ran because he could not fight. You run and you can... that seems worse to me."
"And what would you have of me? Defend this town to my dying breath? Swear another oath to protect these people from the goblins? If six hundred goblins come I cannot protect them, all I can do is die first."
The White Wolf stared at him intensely. "And yet you didn't did you?"
Janther just stared back at her with equal intensity and if he understood her question he did not deign to answer it. "You didn't die first. Is that what you swore? To protect someone that you couldn't protect and since you should have died there you now are going to die somewhere else?"
"You don't know..."
"I came to these lands sworn to protect the Kaijitsu line with my life. I was only the scout. The first one sent because of my inexperience I was expected to secure lodgings and supplies for the arrival of the other White Wolves. Each was suppose to have their own individual protector and I was their protectors' servant. When they didn't come I had to assume the mantle of protecting them all. I lost Ameiko's mother to suicide, I almost lost Ameiko to her adventuring career, and I have lost track of her brother Tsuto years ago. Failure in oath is something I well understand."
Janther motioned to the town gates, "So you want to come with me?"
The slap came so quickly that Janther didn't even have time to raise his arm to protect himself. "I have honor! I do not flee from my responsibilities!"
"My honor died with those I served." he growled and this time he did bull by the woman.
"Honor is not a thing that is misplaced or slain. It is not a dagger or stray coin. It is like the heart and soul of a creature. You either have it or you don't. Do you have the honor to stand for something Janther?"
The knight stopped and she watched as his armored shoulders slumped in defeat. "Not any more."
The White Wolf reached for the hilt of her katana. "Do you wish me to give you an honorable death then, instead of this insulting drunken path you seem to prefer where you will die in a pool of your own vomit?"
He turned then with a sneer on his face, "Can you kill me Asami?"
She nodded. "You would be a challenge sober, but you are drunk and clumsy now. If I conclude you are a person of honor I will trip you to the stones and put my sword through your heart, if not I will lance your eyes with my fingers, collapse your throat and watch you die slowly gasping for air like a fish out of water."
Janther initially reached for his own sword, but then seemed to reconsider. "What would you have of me?"
"Ameiko would have you stay here until the sheriff returns as protection and inspiration to these people."
"And you do everything she says?"
"Yes."
"I am no inspiration. This is a fool's errand."
"And yet I find it my errand. Janther there are worse evils in this world than the way you feel about yourself. Once you swore an oath, as did I, and you failed. Have you ever looked beyond that failure to ponder whether you were spared for another cause?"
"Like I was to witness knights and lords torn apart by demons to instead save a backwater village of peasants? No I don't see that. I was forsaken by my god."
"Perhaps these peasants will rise to something more. Perhaps you were turned from your path because you were meant to help emperors and not just nobles and knights."
Again Janther found himself sneering, "Amieko and Jylesse are the most worthwhile people I have found here. Bartender and Varasian gypsy... the rise to prominence does not come from these things, believe me I have lived my life among nobility, it is not here."
The knight began stalking towards the gates again, but was stopped dead in his tracks by her next question. "Why do you still carry the lance?"
There was a long pause and then a muttered response, "To remind me of who I was."
"Who you are." Asami corrected, "You have not transformed as a caterpillar does. You have been dented as armor is and that damage can be worked back to useful form."
"I can't be that man any more. I can't be the person Ameiko sent you after."
"Why not?"
Janther looked towards the clouds and then met the golden eyes, "Because I am trying to avoid my deity's attention. Acts of valor, defense of the weak... these are things she notices and I don't want her to see me like this."
The waif wandered in holding the paper and walked right up to the bar holding it out to Ameiko. She looked at him questioningly and the boy only shrugged. She took the message and absentmindedly handed him one of the devil headed gold coins that Janther had so liberally littered her bar with over the days. As she opened the letter her facial features changed from questioning to concerned. slowly she lowered the letter to the bar and called for her aged halfling friend. "Bethana, I need you to look after things tonight."
The small woman looked up at her incredulously. They had been unbelievably busy over the last few days since it had become well known that many of the Heroes of Sandpoint made their home here and the staff had barely proven capable of keeping up with the increased business. "We will be incredibly busy... I'm not sure I can..."
Ameiko turned and gave her an absent smile, "You can. This is a meeting that I can't postpone. I'll be back by dawn."
The handsome smug man leaned back in his chair slinging a greasy black curling strand of hair back out of his eyes , smirked, and spoke with her in their native tongue. "You are going to come here and threaten me Jylesse? Madame Mvasti cannot protect you here. The only reason you are still breathing now is because of your black hair and lovely olive skin and the fact that I have forbidden violence against other Varasians."
Jylesse snarled in the Common tongue, "We want to know why you smuggled goblins into this town. What is your end game?"
Jubrayl did not switch from the Varasian dialect and motioned towards the watchful elf, "So he doesn't understand Varasian. Do you think he affords you the least bit of protection here? I have a dozen men that would have cut him down already... had he not been with you, and make no mistake, we could disappear his body so well that even his elven ranger friend wouldn't find the bones for a wyrm's lifetime."
He leaned forward and switched to a more feral tone, "Choose your next words carefully girl or you won't be walking out of here alive. Right now my entertainment outweighs my outrage. You would do well to keep it that way."
Jylesse did take a moment to look around the suspect tavern. The aura of menace hung heavy in the air. When she had leveled her initial accusation the tavern had become dead quiet as if awaiting the order to kill her and Aerin. When that command had not come everyone had gone back to their raucous behavior wrestling, drinking, fighting and rolling knucklebones except for two large men who leaned against nearby posts with heavy iron shod clubs at their sides. Everyone else had conveiniently raised the volume to a level where no one else could hope to overhear her conversation with Jubrayl. "We wouldn't have to kill all of them, only you." She retorted, resting her hand upon her whip handle even though she oddly realized that one of her daggers would be far more lethal.
The sly rogue stared at her curiously for a moment and then laughed derisively, "And what cause would you have to do that?"
"You attacked the town! Out of all the casualties, not a single Varasian lost their life. Why did you do this?"
He threw his arms up in surrender, "I didn't."
"You are a liar!"
His tone took on a deadly calm, "That I may be, but Sandpoint is my cow. I milk her every morning and on days the cream is sweet enough I milk her again in the afternoon. I am not foolish enough to murder the cow for a single steak dinner. Why no Varisians died is a combination of good fortune, the blessing of Desna, and quick action by my Sczarni to secure our people. For many days it bothered me to think that we may have lost you, but then again, despite appearances, you may not be Varasian at all."
"What are you talking about?" Jylesse responded defensively taking the question of her heritage as a threat.
"I know what every Varasian within a fifty mile radius of Sandpoint is doing at any given moment. You have moved beyond being able to conjure simple cantrips and yet you have never been to an academy and even though you visit Madame Mvasti often she is not training you in the arts. So how did you come by this magic?"
Jylesse stared at him hard, amazed by what he already knew of her. "For someone who knows all things Varasian why do you need me to answer this for you?"
Jubrayl splayed his fingers in front of him ,rested his chin on his palms, and eyed the whip on her belt, "I'll admit that it isn't just the magic that puzzles me."
"A family heirloom passed down, as you should well know."
"And yet I don't. How about an exchange of information then?"
"What information?"
"The identity of the goblins' sponsor for your true identity."
"You know who orchestrated the goblin attack?"
"I have a strong suspicion and I'll tell you of it if you answer my questions. Did you learn your magic from inside, prayer, a book, or some other source?"
Jylesse paused reluctantly for a moment, "A book."
"May I see it?"
Jylesse pulled a small black book slightly larger than her extended hand and tossed it on the table. Jubrayl quickly snatched it up and flipped through the pages. The writing mystified him. He had seen mage spellbooks before, but this was a language he had never seen. "What is this writing?"
"I don't know." Jylesse replied honestly.
He looked up at her skeptically, "But you study these... spells."
"I look at the symbols. I don't know what they mean, but I can call upon certain spells when needed. Nothing powerful. Flame gouts and force shields mostly."
Jubrayl held the book back out to her, "And the whip may I see that?"
Jylesse took the book back and secured it in her pouch then unfurled the whip and laid it on the table before her. The Sczarni boss leaned forward and stared at the weapon closely. "What has always bothered me about this story of an heirloom Jylesse is that whips are rarely used as inheritance by our people- they are poor weapons and quite frankly aren't made to last. Why don't you have a more traditional heirloom like a bladed scarf that is embroidered with your ancestors' names and accomplishments. That is more our way."
She had no answer for him. "I cannot say. When my mother passed there was no bladed scarf their was only a chest with this whip and the book I have already revealed."
"But what is it made of? Not leather. Well concealed, but I do know about smuggling and deceit. Between the woven leather you can just seen the green of some material, it almost looks like jade."
Jylesse scoffed , "That's ridiculous. Jade is not flexible."
Jubrayl nodded towards her, "And therein lies the root of my questioning. I don't like unpredictable Varasians. And this rune on the handle, that is no Varasian letter."
The beautiful Varasian girl looked at where his finger pointed and noticed what seemed to be a curving E turned ninety degrees on the base of the whip handle that she had never noticed before. Defensively she snatched the whip from the table. "Enough of this! I answered your questions, tell me who attacked the town."
The Varasian boss leaned back again looking her beautiful form over again trying to weigh her level of danger. "Well we Sczarni need a town to make a profit, destroying the town wouldn't benefit us. So who has nothing to lose with an attack on the common folk?"
Jylesse thought for a moment, "You don't mean to suggest a noble family."
Jubrayl shrugged helplessly. "They already have money and influence. That influence would be cut into by the emergence of a centralized religion and notice how none of their holdings were threatened."
"But which one would have anything to gain?"
"Who is looking to make an escape after the raid failed?" Jubrayl asked simply, linking his hands confidently behind his head.
"Lonjiku Kaijitsu was rumored to be heading to Magnimar."
The olive skinned man merely smiled at her, "He always did look down upon those of us who were not Tian."
Jylesse turned towards Aerin, "We need to get to Ameiko right now!"
The two quickly pushed through the crowd and exited to the street. Jubrayl's smile faded and he silenced the crowd. "If that woman crosses this threshold again kill her."
One of his club wielding bodyguards dared to ask, "But sir, I thought you said Varasians were not to be harmed under penalty of death."
Jubrayl glared at him. "That order still stands! However, I do not want that woman anywhere near me."
"What do you mean Ameiko is gone?" Janther and Asami shouted at the overwhelmed halfling simultaneously.
"She read this note and left. She said she would return by dawn." The exasperated halfling replied, holding out the sheet of parchment.
Janther looked ruefully at the scribbled note. "Nonsense or Wizardspeak. Those are just symbols scratched on paper, nothing legible."
Asami, however, snatched the note out of the halflings startled hand quicker than a striking snake and scanned the foreign symbols- even as the drunken knight helped himself to a flagon of ale. Both Jylesse and Aerin watched with interest as a veritable glow began to radiate from the Whitewolf as she read the note. "This isn't gibberish. It's in a Tian dialect and it's from her brother Tsuto. He says their father is responsible for the goblin raid."
Jylesse looked meaningfully at the elven archer who nodded back to her... that confirmed what her source had said. "He wanted her to meet him at the Glassworks to discuss 'punishment'."
Janther finished the mug and slammed it to the bar forcefully. "Then we go to the Glassworks and see what is going on."
"You cannot harm them." Asami stated, rolling the note and placing it in a pouch.
"I can harm the fool who let goblins in and was responsible for the chaos and death unleashed here. The one who almost got me, Jylesse and Ameiko killed."
"I swore and oath to protect them!" she protested, staring at him.
He returned the stare darkly remembering the disfigured features of Alergast and the reaction of his wife when he had gone to the Sandpoint Cathedral to let her know that he was dead. "And you failed." He stated bluntly, stepping toward the door.
"I will stop you from harming Lonjiku." The Whitewolf stated resolutely.
Janther turned toward her, meaningfully pulled his full helm over his head as he stared at her. "You can't, despite what you might think. Come on we need the dwarf... or whatever he is to make this entry legitimate."
"He hates leaving his forge, I doubt you can get him to..." Jylesse interjected.
Janther smoothly rolled his metallic gaze over to her, "He understands duty. He will come with us and we need the only deputy in this town who could care less why we want to go into a noble's place of business to legitimize this entry if it does prove to be a family working out it's issues."
As Janther disappeared around the threshold Aerin looked toward Jylesse. "Shall we?"
Jylesse looked at the white swathed warrior woman and shrugged helplessly. "We shall. Sandpoint is my home and anyone who would allow goblins to kill my friends and burn it to the ground must be held to answer for their crimes... no matter how high born."
Asami watched the two depart after the knight and wondered what he next move would be. She had sworn an oath, but now it was at odds with itself. She had sworn, as all the Whitewolves had, to protect the Kaijitsu line-every member. If Lonjiku had worked in conjunction with the goblins then he had put Ameiko at risk. If Tsuto was back, she was honor bound to protect him as well, another burden to her already impossible task. Before she had lost track of the bastard son, she was bothered by the wild accusations that he had made about his father killing his mother... if that was true and this was as well, did Lonjiku not have much to answer for? But as she mentally reviewed her oaths, it did not matter. The Kaijitsu's were too important to Minkai. They needed to be preserved at all costs, even the reprehensible ones, Destiny decreed it. That lead to her next problem, how could she kill all four of her new companions if they tried to bring harm to them?
"I thought that it would be harder to convince you to leave the blacksmith shop." Janther said, taking a draught from his wineskin and turning his gaze down at the ashen skinned bald dwarf.
The burly man smirked, "It is dusk and I agreed to take the evening patrols until my 'sheriff' returns to his duties. In addition, I always wanted a look at this insane human forge where they create things that break! It simply defies reason. Why did you bring that blasted thing? If we get inside it won't do you any good unless you brace a door with it."
Janther gripped his lance even tighter and just let his gaze drift off without answering and took another long drink.
The other three returned to the delivery door shaking their heads. "Nothing." Jylesse reported, "All the doors are locked and no one is visible from the main entrance. All the other windows seem to have been covered or have the curtains drawn. Maybe everyone went home."
Rathos pointed to the chimneys pouring out smoke against the sunset. "Someone is in there doing something. Forges don't run themselves."
"So what do we do? Kick down this door? That might scare the locals if a giant.... um...."
Janther stared at Rathos and shrugged indicating that he knew the man didn't like being called a dwarf but was at a loss for other terms. "I am a duergar, one of the Deep Folk." He snarled, "and if I have to bash this door down, then it will come down."
"I thought the deep folk were gnomes? Svirf.... something." Jylesse responded.
Rathos fixed her with a hated filled glance, "Don't you dare compare me to those vermin!"
"The door", Janther stated as he gestured back to their more immediate problem, "remains locked."
"I have the key." A musical voice rang out.
Everyone first looked to Aervin and then as he shook his head the focus turned to the Whitewolf who produced a key from the folds of her white robe. "Why do you have that?" Jylesse asked as the key slid into the delivery door lock and was turned with a soft click that swung the door open.
"As I explained to Janther previously, my mission was to prepare for the protection of the Kaijitsu line, that included procuring access to their holdings. Getting copies of their keys was one of the first things I did upon my arrival here. I could not protect them if they were ever beyond my reach."
Janther was the first in and cast a quick look around. This seemed like some sort of warehouse with shelves of bottles and supplies. As the others entered he pointed to the open empty safe in the floor. "Something is wrong. This isn't a family meeting."
"We should find Ameiko and her family as quickly as possible." Asami suggested, "Meeting rooms and offices are to the left. That's where any conference would be likely to happen."
Quickly the group slid through the door to the left with the Whitewolf and the fallen knight leading. They went through several offices and nothing seemed out of place. It wasn't until they opened the kitchen door and saw the wreck of broken pottery and scattered food that something else seemed amiss. Janther walked into the mess and slowly turned a circle looking around. He then stooped and picked up half of a crude broken blade with holes drilled in it. He held it up for the others to see. "More goblins. Check the other doors, but be careful."
It was only a few minutes later when Jylesse let out a sharp cry and the others raced across the adjoining common room to meet her in what was obviously a bunk room. A bunk room coated in blood. The bed linens were soaked in it and splashes of blood were in several spots along the walls. Janther fell back out of the room his breath quickening and he reached desperately for one of his wineskins and took a long pull. Aerin walked this room with his piercing silver eyes. "This was a massacre. There are no signs of a struggle. Goblins don't have the discipline for this type of espionage."
Rathos snorted, "They do if someone smarter, that they are afraid of, is guiding them."
"Where are the bodies?" Jylesse asked.
The four of them in the room looked at each other and they all knew the answer and it sickened them. Asami was the first back into the common room, "Janther we need to head to the furnace room."
He looked at her numbly, corked the wineskin, placed the lance in the corner and fitted the vandalized shield on his arm. "Lead the way."
At the double doors to the furnace they could hear high pitched screeching and giggling of numerous creatures. Asami turned to Janther and whispered "Count to twenty then go in. There is another door on the opposite side, perhaps we can trap them and surprise them here. I do not want them to have an avenue of escape if any of my charges are their captives."
Janther nodded in agreement, but as she sprinted down the corridor he turned to Aerin and said, "Go with her, make sure she doesn't get herself or us killed."
Good read so far...keep going...please
On the count of twenty Janther stepped through the door and into the horrific abattoir that the glassworks had become. Human corpses lay sprawled on the various work tables, limbs had been hacked off and close to a dozen goblins ran about the room in chaotic frenzy waving red hot tongs and pokers, others tossed glass vials about shattering them in powdery clouds of reagents and still more waved the severed limbs, some with fingers and hands that were aflame from the furnaces.
He barely had time to register it all when he saw a goblin on the far side of the room crumple to the ground in a heap as a white shadow delivered a crippling blow to his neck. An arrow followed quickly behind her taking another through the chest. The majority of the goblins seemed to be concentrated towards the southern half of the immense chamber. "Get to the girl!" He hollered to his two companions, as he stepped forward and cleaved a goblin in half.
Jylesse hesitated, but Rathos moved forward his eyes narrowed and a beam of heat lanced from his eyes burning a clean hole through a nearby goblin. The goblins let out a cheer of delight as they recognized the newly arrived victims. One converged on Janther and he parried the creature easily, having the utmost faith in his armor. It was the best money could buy, that was the best his father could offer him. He cast a glance over his companions and sighed, only Aerin had something worthy of battle with his Elven mail, but both Jylesse and the Whitewolf wore no armor at all and the dwarf only wore his thick leather blacksmith apron. As Janther contemplated this a goblin hurled a vial of something at him, instinctively he raised his shield and the vial burst in a cloud of ash stinging his eyes, it was followed by a sharp pain at his hip as a crude goblin blade found a seam in his spectacular armor.
Asami kept launching punches and kicks in every direction she could, it was actually an incredibly difficult task for her to fight these smaller foes, she had always trained against people her own size and she found too many of her blow drifting high and caught several glancing cuts as a result. The chaotic creatures fought with an unbelievable lack of discipline, skill and style. This was what ultimately cost her when a goblin leapt upon the back of one of his companions and used it to spring at her head with a pair of heated tongs. The practiced woman quickly swung an arm across her body knocking the poker away from her face, but the goblin crashed heavily into her chest knocking her to the floor. Before she could enact a prone counter, goblins grasped at her limbs and lifted her in the air carrying her towards one of the opening in the great blazing furnace.
Janther grunted as he dropped to one knee and swung sidelong cleaving the head from the goblin who had caught him with the lucky stab. His eyes were still focused on the far side of the room. "Get to the girl!" He yelled again at Jylesse, who launched her whip at his head.
The wicked lash struck just behind his neck snagging a goblin around the throat and sending a tremendous jolt of electricity through his little frame that sent him to the floor in a convulsing smoking heap. "At this moment", the Varasian woman responded, "you seemed more in need of aid."
Rathos, for all his protests to the contrary, rolled steadily across the room ignoring the carnage and sweeping away any goblin in his way with his large iron hammer, but to the watching Janther he moved excruciatingly slowly. Especially as Asami was carried closer and closer to the forge opening.
An arrow struck one of the goblins laboring to carry the Whitewolf in the back of the head sending him crumpling to the ground and dropping one of her arms and shoulders to the floor. The shoulder seemed to bounce from the floor boards and rebounded on a powerful strike catching the goblin holding her opposite arm under the chin and snapped his head violently back. Suddenly, the goblins released her legs and screamed something out and although none of them spoke the language it seemed to be recognition of who they were. As one the goblins fled toward the door to the south where Aerin sat with his bow, the elf managed to shoot another dead as two others slipped by him and scrambled through a door behind him. He cast a glance and an arrow after them that sank deeply into the wood of the door, but elected not to follow as he saw Asami lying on the floor bleeding from a half dozen wounds. He reached her side about the same time Rathos did. "You let the goblins go!" The duergar chided, ignoring the fallen woman.
"I was told to make certain that she was not killed." The elf slung the bow over his shoulder and extended a hand to the Whitewolf pulling her to her feet but he never removed his monochromatic eyes from the smith.
The duegar looked up at Janther and Jylesse as they arrived and pointed accusingly at the elven archer. "He let the goblins escape."
Janther leveled a stern glance at Aerin who only shrugged and gestured towards Asami who was already making her way among the human corpses examining each one closely. She stopped midway through the tables of mutilated bodies as a glint from a far wall caught her keen eyes and moved towards a horrific figure tied to a chair. The others quickly moved to her side as she let out the scream.
The man had obviously died horribly. Restrained in the chair, molten glass had been poured over him blistering and burning his skin. It had not been an easy or merciful death and it had not been orchestrated by goblins. "Who is this?" Janther inquired as he stoically took in the scene.
"It's Lonjiku Kaijitsu, Ameiko's father and one of the noble families of Sandpoint." Jylesse replied.
"And another of the people I was honor bound to protect." Asami responded in a slight whisper, "We need to find Ameiko and Tsuto, before the Five Storms can complete their plot."
"What in the hells are the Five Storms?" Janther demanded.
"There is no time to explain all of this right now! There are plans in motion to wipe out the Kaijitsu line and they are succeeding."
Janther's eyes narrowed and while, for the most part, he didn't care about these people and their problems in this backwater town he knew that something larger was going on. Asami knew what it was in its entirety and was not telling him. His battle training had taught him enough to know that going against a foe he didn't know was dangerous, if not suicidal. "Those goblins weren't trying to escape. They ran for the basement stairs, not for the exit. They are going to notify someone or something that we are coming. We need to know what you aren't telling us."
"We don't have time! They may be killing them right now!" The white swathed woman began a determined walk toward the stairs, but was stopped by the knight's strong outstretched armored arm.
"Asami please...."
The woman fixed him with her golden glare, "I am a White Wolf and I have a duty to perform."
"You are still bleeding from half a dozen different wounds. You are lucky to still be on your feet. We can help you if you tell us what is down there!"
The White Wolf hesitated, "I don't truly know. If it is the Five Storms this is an odd tactic, it would not be like them to trust such an important task to such failure prone creatures as goblins, but I cannot think of any other reason that all the living Kaijitsus would be targeted. If it is as I fear they would have sent something that the five of us cannot hope to defeat."
Rathos sighed, a deep rumbling sound, "Terrific, and you are going anyway?"
The woman nodded, but Janther moved in front of her. "We will all go, but you will be behind me."
Jylesse and Aerin looked at each other and shrugged, but the elf meaningfully nocked an arrow to his bowstring as they moved to the stairs.
At the base of the stairs, the hallway split in two directions. To the left a brick wall had been dismantled and the remains of it laid haphazardly pushed against the walls. Rathos moved to the bricks and picked a few up rolling flakes of gray mortal through his fingers. "This wall was up for years and was taken down recently."
"How do you know that?" Jylesse asked, whip nervously ready at her side.
"Rocks communicate with me." he stated simply returning to the group.
Janther gestured to the smoother existing passage, "If the goblins were running I suspect they would take the easier path."
They made their way around cautiously and turned a corner with two solid doors, one was a storeroom, the other had a solid lock. Janther turned to the White Wolf "I don't suppose that you also have a key to this lock?"
The golden haired woman looked at the heavy padlock , "This is not a Kaijitsu lock, this was brought in from outside. I may be able to open it given enough time through other means."
"Leave it." Janther replied, "Whatever is in there isn't coming out. I want to find those goblins before they bring this doom of your's down upon us. But just in case, Jylesse stand here with your whip. Don't let anything get to this door, especially if it has a key."
They turned another corner in the hallway to reveal two more doors and the remains of another dismantled wall. The hall connected back at the base of the stairs beyond the doors. Janther moved to Aerin's side, "Go to the other end of this hall with your bow. I'm going in the first door, if reinforcements come out of the other door or anyone tries to flee I'm relying on you to put an end to it."
The silver eyed elf nodded and headed to the end of the hall. When he was in place Janther motioned for the White Wolf and the smith to follow behind him as he moved to the door.
With a single mighty kick from his armored boot the wooden door shattered. Almost instantly he registered an arrow flying toward him and barely brought his shield up in time to deflect it from his face. Two goblins stood before him brandishing their blade and behind them stood a well groom half-elf male already nocking a second arrow into his bow. Janther's initial thrust from the doorway was awkward and slow due to the confined area of the doorway and the nimble goblins easily dodged aside and returned harmless jabs with their makeshift daggers.
Janther knew it was only a matter of time before he dispatched the goblins, but the half-elf was less predictable. He was armed with a bow, but didn't wear armor. If he knew magic there would be an exceptional danger, especially in such confined quarters with no place to dodge, but he seemed to favor the bow. As Janther began to bull through the goblins, a sharp strike to the back of his right knee dropped him to the ground and a white shadow lurched over his head.
Asami landed on her feet behind the goblins and next to the half-elf who turned and swung his bow at her like a staff, but she blocked with her forearm. "What are you doing in the company of goblins Tsuto?"
He smiled a disarming smile as she said his name. "I am taking my revenge of this pathetic little village and that bastard of a father of mine."
She paused stunned for a moment not noticing the wild parrying Janther was executing to keep the goblins at bay after the disadvantage she had put him at , "You killed Lonjiku?"
Tsuto's smiled dissolved into a simmering rage, "Of course I did! He never loved me. I didn't get to pick my father, but he never forgave me for being the son of another man! He came here to kill me and got what he always deserved."
Asami's demeanor turned icy, "And Ameiko, where is she?"
"She's coming with me once I'm done with all of you. "
"I don't know why you have done this Tsuto, but Ameiko is under my protection and will not be taken anywhere."
The half-elf lowered his bow and then launched a vicious kick that caught the White Wolf beneath the chin sending her reeling against the wall and leaking fresh blood on to her garment covering her mouth. In a fluid motion he slung the bow over his back and dropped into a fighting stance stalking in.
Janther placed his sword on the ground, it was too cumbersome to use properly in this doorway, but it didn't matter the goblins had little hope of breaching his armor and he realized they were here simply to delay him as long as possible from the half-elf approaching the staggered Asami. He smashed one of the goblins aside with his shield, even on his knees he stood over them and the power of his blow disoriented the little green beast. The opening allowed him to strike out with his gauntleted hand and grab the other goblin by its narrow neck and as he stood he raised his arm smashing its balloon like head into the stone ceiling. He discarded the limp corpse and turned on the other goblin.
Asami answered Tsuto's approach with a flurry of her own blows, but he was fluent with martial arts and knew the blocks to counter his strikes. "You know the arts from my homelands. That's impressive. It was difficult for me to find someone here to teach me, but I once hoped if I could master them and show Lonjiku that I embraced my culture as a Kaijitsu he could somehow accept me, back when I was a foolish boy."
He punctuated his sentences with severe strikes, many of which connected. It wasn't that he was significantly better at martial arts than the White Wolf, but he was opportunistic and targeted the bleeding wounds which she had already sustained and showed prominently on her white garb leading each strike that landed, even if partially deflected, to cause her more pain.
Janther dispatched the second goblin with an armored kick to the chest that sent it tumbling to the ground and followed that with a merciless stomp that ended its life. In a single motion he scooped his sword from the ground, took a step into the room and swung the large blade at the half-elf beating Asami mercilessly.
Tsuto turned when he heard the clanking steps just in time to fall back enough for the sword to tear through his shirt and carve a bleeding furrow into his chest. He had been aware enough to lean back so that it didn't kill him instantly, but the force of the blow spun him fully around so that he was again facing the battered White Wolf who struck out with a fist across his jaw that laid him low.
Janther raised his sword to finish the half-elf off, but Asami tumbled into him, barely conscious. "No you can't kill him!"
"He killed his father. We still don't know what he did to Ameiko and he almost killed you."
"He is beaten and I am still sworn to protect him."
Janther looked at the crumpled form, the man wouldn't be a danger any time soon and might bleed to death anyway from his strike. "Fine, but he goes to jail."
The knight strode out of the room and checked the last door which had a long snaking tunnel extending from its far end. He called Aerin over to cover the tunnel and made his way back to the locked door. With several solid blows he knocked the lock off to see a bound and bruised Ameiko. He quickly set her free and found that she was in a condition not significantly better than the White Wolf's. He called the Duergar and Jylesse to take the two women to the temple and drag Tsuto to the barracks.
When the others had gone he walked to where Aerin stood guard. The elf looked at him with his silver eyes. "Does it feel good?"
Janther looked at him quizzically, backed with a little annoyance.
"Rescuing Ameiko. You saved her, doesn't that make you feel good?"
The human knght sheathed his sword and opened one of his wineskins and began to drink. "It makes me wish I had left this place days ago and never looked back."
"Well what do you think?" Aerin asked again as they stood upon the sandy beach.
"This is where the little bastards got in." Janther replied, pointing to the trail of small footprints in the sand, still clearly visible in the rising darkness.
A few long moments went by before the knight acknowledged the elf's lingering silvery gaze. "I meant about staying." Aerin said when the human finally looked at him.
Janther took another deep drink from an almost drained wineskin and just stared back. "You've tried to escape this town, what? Three times already. Are you finally going to go now as you said you desired on the other end of the tunnel?"
"And be killed on the road by a goblin army before they come here and kill you?"
The elven archer shrugged. "Perhaps."
"And what of you? I heard you say that you only came here for your cousin and would be leaving yourself."
"I cannot go yet."
"Why do you need to go at all?"
The elf sighed, "I fear war will be upon my people within a year or two."
"War with whom?" Janther inquired, looking from the sand to the tunnel.
"I...", Aerin hesitated and Janther instantly knew that he would not reveal the truth... he had caught himself in the same hesitation numerous times over the years.
It was the hesitation of wanting to share a burden that you knew others would never be able to understand. Janther felt inclined to help him, "Your people need you to fight this war."
"They need Shalelu!" He responded adamantly, "But I am unable to bring her to them. I am just another archer in the army."
"I have heard tell that an elven archer is worth ten human ones."
Aerin smiled at that, "I haven't finished my training. I might be worth three, less than that if caught in the open or a city like this. But Shalelu has always been strong willed and she will not be swayed on this issue."
Janther took another draught and cast the empty wineskin into the surf. "What issue?"
"She searches for a man. A man most of us believe is dead. Most elves are patient and can wait decades, even centuries, to discover the answers to lingering questions, but the answers my cousin need must come from this man, and since your lifespans are so limited, she has a sense of urgency rarely seen in my people. I cannot return without her...my life means little in the coming darkness, her skills could make all the difference."
Janther let out a little laugh and uncorked another wineskin. "So you are a glorified messenger."
Aerin shrugged again, "My people figured she would only listen to family, since they have tried to appeal to her before, and I am the last she has."
The human knight shook his head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all. "So she is going to avoid this war on your people to protect these people?"
"I suppose. It perplexes me as well. I always thought that she harbored anger towards humans after this man left our village. You remind me of him in many ways actually. He was more unrefined than you are, and he was a woodsman, good with a bow. He helped fight against a dragon that attacked us. Shalelu claims he taught her the woodcraft. He left without a word when her mother was killed, I think he loved her mother, but I had only met him once close to when he first arrived and he carried a great sadness- much as you do. And yet you also stay to protect these people. I think Shalelu thinks she owes these humans a debt in these times as he stood with us against the dragon, she feels she must stand with them until a similar threat comes forward. What do you owe them?"
Janther cut off a threatening snarl. "Nothing!"
"And yet here you are lamenting the fact that you did not leave earlier when you had multiple chances."
"We chose to follow the path that lead to fresh air. What do you suppose was down that other tunnel, the one with the dismantled wall that the goblin tracks seemed to avoid?"
"You said we should wait for the others before we explored such things."
Janther started back for the tunnel. "Someone wanted that wall down for a reason. They were looking for some thing."
Answers, Aerin knew, answers to some question or a solution to some problem, but he had the nagging concern that all this human was looking for was death... and yet he followed him back into the tunnel.
"We need to hurry back!" Jylesse implored desperately, as the bald, squat, gray dwarf followed her at an excruciatingly slow pace.
He just growled at her, and it seemed, even slowed his pace. "He is going to do something stupid!" she pleaded, reaching instinctively for her whip.
"Most humans do!" Rathos growled back, "Why do you care? Who is he to you?"
Jylesse had a difficult time with that decision. For truly who was this man to her? He was not Varasian, and beyond herself and Ameiko, who herself was not Varasian, showed little beyond contempt for the population of her home town... and yet there was something. "he wants to die. He is going to do something dumb."
The dwarf snorted, and slowed his pace even further, "So let him and hopefully he will take the elf with him."
The beautiful Varasian turned on him and marched back the dozen paces between them threateningly. Rathos found him inadvertently shuddering at something... something he could not comprehend... in her fixated gaze, something both ancient and unnatural. "Does it matter to you that he has been through some trial that has broken him?"
The gray dwarf stood staunchly and met her chest to chest, for he did not fear death himself, and somehow this woman was cloaked in it. "It doesn't! Because only the weak succumb! Do you think he is the only mortal to suffer such trials? What do you think brought me to the surface? Yet here I stand your interim sheriff protecting people I don't give a damn about while he tries to abandon us at every turn."
The Varasian stood stunned for a moment and then spun her multicolored skirts quickly, "We need to make haste."
Rathos sighed deeply, he had seen this with slaves before. Losing the will to live and just wasting away. "You can't save him."
She turned on him again, "I can!"
The duerger shook his head, it had been the same with his brother. "You can't. Look at his armor, his shield... he cares nothing for them... these things that are attached to him specifically to protect his life... he cares nothing for, and you... you and your words are going to make a difference more than the steel that protects his heart?"
"And what would you have me do? He saved my life from the goblins."
The dwarf shrugged, "Let him go. He doesn't care and if you, or any of us ,rely upon him when he decides it is time to go, we will all most likely die with him."
"I can't see a damned thing!" Janther complained loudly.
The sigh, itself almost a melody, came first followed by a quickly whistled tune- the Night Owl Melody is what his mother had called it and a ghostly blue light flitted from his lips to alight upon the fallen knight's tarnished shield. Janther grunted in approval as the azure glow gave him a good view of the narrow cavern tunnel he and the elf had been stumbling down blindly. It seemed natural, which even his alcohol clouded mind found unusual since the goblins had so obviously avoided it. The creatures should have felt more at home in this narrow natural tunnel than the basement of a human sized building.
"Is there any point to this Janther? We already know where the goblins came from and we know where they went. Nothing is here. It's a tunnel. The Lost Coast is riddled with them."
"It had a wall over it."
"And the wall was removed and no one travelled this way... they found nothing of value."
Janther stopped and spun on the elven archer so quickly that he had to steady himself with his empty hand on the uneven rocky wall as he lost his balance. "I'm not wondering about the goblins who took it down. I'm wondering what was found that made someone put it up."
"Probably a ravine or a pit, which you are likely to stagger right into."
"So be it." Janther responded and began to turn about when the elf hollered at him to duck.
The cavalier tried to reverse his turn and spun down but his reflexes were dulled by the ale he had been consuming all day since witnessing the first evidence of a massacre and terribly long clawed fingers slashed across his shoulders one of the malformed digits opening a superficial wound on his cheek. At the same moment an elven arrow barely missed his temple and hit something behind him.
In one move that should have been fluid, Janther drew his magnificent sword and swung trying to complete a full circuit and come back to his full height. His sword struck the far wall halfway through his spin and was knocked from his hand by the impact as it drew sparks. He stood disarmed before the creature that had surprised him.
The creature was about his height, but thin and... wrong... with back bending knees over long clawed hands on the end of overlong arms and what seemed to be mandibles instead of a mouth. Aerin's arrow stuck from it's shoulder and what it oozed was something syrupy and slow, not blood. It lashed out again with both it's clawed hands, clacking uselessly against his breastplate and shield, but they continued across his armored body until they found purchase with on his vambrace and the edge of his shield trying to force his defenses open. Janther was too strong and kept his defenses closed, but weaponless he decided to snap his head forward smashing into the beastial face.
More of the fluid burst from the creature's head as the blow sent it staggering back, but the toothy mandibles tore a gash in Janther's forehead as well. The knight's vision went red and he assumed it was from the blood in his eyes, but the realized his emotions were surging. His anger at failing to protect Sir Ursion, his comrades, Alergast, Ameiko's father, even Ameiko herself, overwhelmed him. He was not use to this, despair usually covered him in a blanket of solemn apathy and clarity... now he was lost... lost in an anger he could not control. He lurched forward at the staggering creature forgetting his years of disciplined practice and it cost him another blow of the raking claws as they barely creased his neck and he tackled the beast letting the weight of him and his armor bear it to the ground. He was aware of Aerin yelling something at him, but he could no longer decider the words. He rained pummeling gauntleted blows upon the prone creature and even shook his shield free of his other arm in irritation when it prevented him from delivering solid blows to the beast's face. He rained blows upon it, venting all of his anger until the skull collapsed and he was slamming his fists into bare stone and bloodying them.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him briefly, but he slapped it away and rose with a snarl, Aerin skipped back several paces and leveled his exquisite bow at the knight's chest. "It is dead."
Janther only snarled, but somewhere his consciousness fought. He knew this was a friend and did not pounce on him. "Stay away from me!"
The elf watched him warily. "It did something to me. It's blood, it's venom, a magic aura or curse. I'm ... angry.... stay away... please."
The knight balled up in a crouch and began slamming his armored hands against the ground creating a disturbing ring of metal on stone that had Aerin alertly watching the passage ahead of them, which is why he was so startled when Jylesse came up from behind him. the surprise of it almost caused him to loose his readied arrow into the darkness. The elf gestured helplessly to the cavalier when he had recovered from his surprise, "I have no answers. He is drunk, but also afflicted with something."
Jylesse calmly approached and Janther's slamming arms became less frequent. "It shall pass quickly." She laid a hand upon Janther's helmed head and his pounding stopped altogether.
Aerin composed himself and lowered his bow. "That creature, the one that did this to him, I've never seen or read about anything like it."
Jylesse looked casually at the body with its destroyed and unrecognizable skull. "It is a wrathspawn. Their like has not been seen in this world for ten thousand years or more."
"So how do you know what it is?" the rumbling voice of Rathos asked from behind the elf.
Jylesse shook her head as if clearing a daydream, "I do not know, but for them to be back something important is in motion."
Janther vomited behind her on the stone floor. "That should be the end of it then." Jylesse stated, "Why did you come down here without waiting for us to return?"
The knight realized all three of his companions' eyes were upon him. Without answering them he gathered his glowing shield and fallen sword, heedless of the foul inchor dripping from his gauntlets. "I have a reason."
"To end it all?" She called after him.
"If I'm lucky I may just stumble into a ravine or a pit and fall far from the Inheritor's notice!"