Dragon's Egg - Act III

[Ireth]

Cadell

My footfalls pound in time with my heart. My thoughts whirl. The Spear is in sight, almost within reach. Can they see me, can they hear the people's cries? Is Ankari still alive, hurt, or past saving? Is it worth going back for him before I gather the company to flee this place for good?

 

[Steerpike]

((OK, let's assume people at the Spear hear Cadell. Commotion is already starting in town as well. A number of villagers are heading toward the temple of Tyr, thanks to the earlier cries from that direction and the initial villagers who spread out to get help. One of them is just behind Cadell, on his way to get Gisla, and is shouting for her)).

 

[Steerpike]

Father Geralt grunts as he narrowly avoids another blow. His robes are soaked in blood. "Find your courage, man!" he growls to the villager at the door. "A great evil is upon us!"

He swings his staff again, putting as much force behind it as he is able:

Attack [1d20+1] = 17+1 = 18

Damage [1d4] = 1

This time, the staff connects with Ankari's side, though the blow is hardly felt through the elf's armor.

 

[Ankari]

The priest knows fear. It's present beneath his haughty commands, eating away at the foundations of his position. It darkens the mind, robbing it of the ability to distinguish color, forcing an existence of harsh black and white. My quick retort crumbles in the furnace of my rage.

I ignore the slap of the stick against my side and drive forward with axe raised.



A solid blow



Words tumble through my mind, unable to find form in my throat. Do you know courage, priest? Do you know the equality of injustice?

 

[Ireth]

Cadell

I reach the Spear's front steps, and suck air into my burning lungs as I burst through the doors. "Help!"

 

[Steerpike]

Ankari

Father Geralt drops his staff with a groan and crumples into himself, blood pooling out around him. The man standing in the doorway finds his legs, and rushes forward, crying out Father Geralt's name as he does so:

Bystander STR Roll [1d20] = 7

The man tries to grab at Ankari, but can't keep his grip on him, and Ankari easily slips free.

 

[Ankari]

I slide around the priest, and place the edge of my axe against the collection of loose skin at his neck. I glare a warning at the stranger. "Is it not said that a battle of arms is the ultimate proof of righteousness?" I lift the axe, enough to have it bite. "Is it not! I give you one last chance, priest. Admit your mistakes and accept my terms. Failure, and I will send you to the darkness. Hope that your lord is more than the lies you have created. Speak your choice."

 

[Nihal]

The Inn

The bed is comfortable, softer and warmer than anywhere I have slept in the last weeks. I feel my mind slipping again between the conscious state and the sleep, my body relaxing, ready to get the so deserved rest it needs. Ages could have passed since I last slept—and slept badly, not as many hours as I would like so I could learn those necessary new spells.

Screams yank me from the almost dream-state I was moments ago.

My deserved sleep? Not now.

I jump to my feet, reaching for my backpack. "Burnbright, stay in the room with Branwen!" I run to the hallway, pausing and shouting, "Masama! Watch the children!" before running downstairs.

I knew something would happen tonight. Now I only need to discover how bad it is.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

I rise, drawing my sword and scimitar. "Gisla!" I place the scimitar before her. "If you've a bastard sword you're better off, but if the gnolls have come, this is a quick blade. I'll go out and have a look."

I head toward the door. It was Cadell's voice.

 

[Steerpike]

The Temple

Father Geralt is non-responsive. The villager in the temple cocks back his arm and takes a swing at Ankari:

Swinging a Fist [1d20] = 7

The blow is easily avoided, and the miss throws the villager off-balance. Another form fills the doorway - a shirtless man in a leather apron with a blacksmith's hammer in his wide grip.

"Arn!" says the first villager. "The elf's done fer Father Geralt!"

The Inn

Party members at the inn break into action. Gisla thanks Baldhart for the offer of a blade, but says she prefers her own. On the way toward the door she reaches behind the bar and pulls out a worn leather scabbard. The longsword she draws from it gleams as it catches the light in the tavern.

As she turns to follow Baldhart, the young villager who was running toward the Maiden's Spear reaches the doorway. "They're killin' Father Geralt!" he says. "I seen him run out of there" The lad points at Cadell.

That causes Gisla to pull up short for a moment. She turns to Aga, who is watching, wide-eyed, from the door to the kitchen. "Get to the bell and call up the militia. Then try to round up some of the council."

Aga nods and comes around the bar, heading toward the door.

Gisla curses, adjusts her grip on her blade, and heads out the front door toward the temple.

Upstairs, Masama pokes his head out of his room just as Burnbright is coming out in the hallway.

"What going on?" Burnbright asks.

Masama shakes his head, and says "You and I and the holy child will stay in my room until we learn more. Come now, do not linger in the hall.

 

[Ireth]

Cadell

I don't stop as I enter the inn, dashing the length of the main room and taking the stairs two at a time. As my comrades poke their heads out of their doors, I gasp, "Gather everyone -- all your things -- we're leaving now!"

Liadan

Cadell's voice stops me short, and I rush from the room to find out more. "What's going on?"

Cadell is breathless, clutching his ribs. He raises his head and gasps again, "Ankari -- twpsyn damnedig -- attacked Geralt!"

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

"That… traitor!"

In my enraged state, I must be careful. I deliberately reverse the grip on my sword and cradle the blade in my left hand. Surely Gisla knows I'm not facing her with intent to attack with the blade like this.

I say to her as calmly as I can manage, "Gisla, you know of Nissa—who taught me all about Brynhild. So you know how well aware I am of the consequences of taking Her name in vain—a fate worse than death. My soul would be denied Brynhild's presence."

If she does not stop, I follow her to the temple as I speak,

"I swear in Brynhild's name that Ankari has a history of acting without the knowledge of the rest of us. I swear before Brynhild, I did not think Ankari was capable of murder. And my next oath to Brynhild, I will say aloud before you: Gisla, in Brynhild's name, my sword is in your service as long as I am in Arendal or at your side, under the condition that you do not condemn the innocent, nor condemn the rest of us guilty by association.

"Ankari acted alone. I'm sure of this!"




You know what you just said, right. You stake your wings on it.

Nissa, I will run my blade through him if Gisla commands it, and if he falls, I'll hit him again to make sure he never gets up. If he flees and I find him later, no longer in Arendal or at Gisla's side, I will thank him for killing a man who burns little girls. But if he killed an innocent to silence a witness, best I never find him.

 

[Nihal]

The Inn

I look over my shoulder, "Burnbright, don't!" I'm about to turn back and push her back inside the room when Masama calls her. "Do as he said! Gather your things and stay there!"

The common room is in turmoil. I resume my descent, better awake and find it easier to do than before. The realization of the motive hits me like a bucket of cold water, causing another delay in my descent while I pull a piece of the cloth wrapped around my head to cover my bad eye.

((People were already screaming before he entered the Inn. No, she is not in her room when he comes.))

 

[Nihal]

The Inn

((reaction to edits))

A hundred swearings go through in my mind when Baldhart talks. What the hell does she have in mind, doesn't she realize that could mean even being forced to kill Branwen or even me?

I want to kill Ankari, but I don't want to see the frigging stupid ranger dead now. "Baldhart, can you get me my spear?!"

She's no longer trustworthy and must be kept out of my way. I don't know exactly why I'm going to do what I'm about to do—hell, I don't even know how I'm going to do this—, but if it serves for something, at least the ranger did what I was trying to find a way to do. Too bad he's so stupid and selfish to the point of risking his own neck doing so.

I sprint through the front door.

 

[Legendary Sidekick]

I say to Mauve, "We're innocent, so I'm staying. If you leave, I'll get your things. The smith and leather worker know we are friends."

 

[Ankari]

No words, no use. I slit the priest's throat, severing ties to this world.

I hold my axe at the villager who tried to strike me. "You are blinded with passion. For that, I will forgive you the first two attacks. Another, and you'll join your priest."

Holding the axe steady, I shift focus to the blacksmith. It is apparent this person has some influence over this collection of sentient anthills. "Blacksmith, I am Ankari, ranger sent from the south to rid this land of the taint. While your people hem and haw like donkeys complaining of the heat, my company and I have defended you and your kind from the threats of this land. Gnolls and goblins surround and destroy a village within walking distance from yours, and your people sit on their rears like drooling kings pleased with the performance of a favorite fool. Shall I find a pointy hat with bells? Will you understand then the severity of the situation?

Expel the fire of passion from your veins, and think with your critical mind. This man dead at my feet was armed. I was armed. He and I had an agreement. If I bested him in melee combat, he would concede to my demands. If he bested me, I would hand over the harpy-child. If I were a murderer, then why would I come to this temple, give him a chance to arm himself, and not kill any witnesses that stumble in with ignorance fogging their judgement? Look to the door and you'll see no signs of forced entrance. Look to my quiver, and you'll see that I could have employed my preferred method of killing, but chose to comply to his terms.

And I have won those terms. As of his death, the village will form a militia of volunteers. The frail, old, young, and cowards will head to the caves (think on that!). The willing will set for Srilikind in the morning, under my leadership. Once the threat to this region is done, so you will be of me and my company."

 

[Steerpike]

The other villager says "It's not true, Arn. Ye can see right there that Father Geralt's in his robes, and he ain't even got his mace, just that stick, while this elf was going at 'im with an axe."

Arn keeps his hammer raised with right hand and tugs at his beard with his left. "I just seen you slit the throat o' the man as he lay there, not movin'. How was he a'sposed to succeed to your demands knocked out cold, and then you runnin' a knife across his neck? Yer gonna set down every weapon you got so ye can be rightly tried by the Council fer cold blooded murder, or yer gonna meet the business end o' my hammer."

 

[Ankari]

"And where was this fire when word of Srilikind reached this village? You would smash your hammer in my face because you are not afraid of it, but gnolls and goblins frighten you? I see the teachings of Tyr have had considerable influence on your lives. That you would cower behind your doors while people are in need of 'the business end o' your hammer' speaks volumes of this priest's effectiveness.

Why is he dead? Would you have him suffer as those mortal wounds bleed out?

Do you speak of the council which would have a little girl murdered for being different? My, how courageous your people become when the enemy takes the form of a female and doesn't reach past the waist. If I had Baldhart draw pictures of miniature gnolls and goblins, would that stoke the fire of your wrath? Would you barrel through the snow with a blood-curdling scream, eager to plant that hammer in the head of a gnoll?

Your council has been corrupted by the powers of the taint. One such man, Tomemm, has been through this village and has paid your leaders to comply with the taint. Are you and your people soldiers of the taint? Perhaps I have made a terrible mistake and have walked into the den of the corrupted."

 

[Steerpike]

The blacksmith's face darkens as Ankari speaks. "I gave ye a chance, elf. Ye expect me to believe somethin' about Father Geralt I know he wouldn't do? Ye expect me to believe a Council of men I known me whole life is corrupt and under the Taint?"

He swings vigorously at Ankari:

Attack [1d20+1] = 14+1 = 15

The elf barely dodges the head of the hammers as it rushes by.

Arn says "Yer the one corrupted! Just like the rest o' them what came down from Srilkind."

The other villager runs out the door and into the gathering crowd, looking for sign of the militia. Meanwhile, Gisla, Baldhart, and Mauve approach the temple, seeing a growing group of commoners gathered around the temple door and calling for help. From the other direction, one of Arendal's militiamen can be seen heading for the temple as well, but the others are nowhere to be seen for the moment.

 

[Ireth]

Cadell

"What should we do?" Liadan whispers, growing pale.

"First we go back and see what has become of Ankari and Geralt. If the priest is dead, no doubt Ankari will be tried for it, and we will be expected to testify -- or at least I will. If Ankari is dead, I think it best we leave immediately before the village tries to kill us all."

"And if they somehow slew each other?"

"Then we leave. Now arm yourself, let's go!"

I duck into our room and find my armor and sword. Liadan helps me don both, then snatches up her own armor, her bow and quiver, and the dwarven flail. We take up our packs, and I rush to the stables for Llucheden. We ride for the temple of Tyr, Liadan behind me in the saddle, her arms wrapped tight around my waist.