“I thank you once again” says Robyn as she sips from a tin
cup around the campfire. She looks off
into the distance, remembering the horrors of two nights before, the night of
her rescue. A tear forms in her eye,
followed by a contrived smile. “I wish
my companions were as lucky as me.” She turns her wayfinder over on her hand, tracing the symbol of the open road with her fingers. Her
voice cracks. “My heroes…” She buries her hands in her face. After minutes of crying, she seems to compose
herself. She looks at Kulman. “I am sorry about your companion. I know what that means, I know your
loss. When I was younger I remember my
father having a badger. I know, a
badger, right? His name was Squinto.” She seems somberly happy as she reminisces. “Anyway, that thing would do anything for him,
even when he was older, it would help him get dressed." She sniffles. "When that badger died, my father not only
lost a friend, he lost himself…he died soon after from the grief. It was part of him…” Her eyes swell with compassion as she looks
into the gnome’s face. “Those bastards were
monsters, the things they did to me…”, hatred and anger, followed by shame,
fills her eyes. She wipes away tears and
continues. “…the appreciation…the love I
feel for you and your friends, especially your fallen companion…it knows no
bounds. I owe you my life. I may never be free from the nightmares, but
I am alive.” She puts a hand on her
crutches. “I’ve lived with nightmares
before, people have them all the time.”
Her hand moves to Kulman’s knee. “But
saviors, honor, and kindness, that is a rare gift that I have been given, which
in these time is usually unheard of.”
She looks around the fire at all of your faces. “It’s funny, you know so little of me…you
knew nothing of me…and yet you came to my aid…you risked…”, she looks once
again at Kulman, then corrected herself, “…you gave your lives for me.
I owe you my life, if there is anything I can do for you please tell me.”
As Robyn makes her way from the group to set up her bedding, Thomas takes a look around the group. Seeing no one go to talk to the newly rescued Pathfinder, he walks toward her. Before approaching too closely, he lets out a faux cough. He then speaks in a soft tone that can still be overheard by those party members who are around the campfire.
ReplyDelete"Excuse my new friend, Ms Robyn. His heart is for battle, and I think the excitement of spilling blood this night may have gotten to his head. I sincerely apologize for his rudeness. My name is Thomas Rankin, and I am but a simple man, who owes my current liberty to this group. You see, I, much like you, had been captured not long ago and was held against my will." He looks down for a moment with a touch of shame in his voice. "Though my detention was not near the traumatic experience that you have had to endure. So, on behalf of all of these new 'friends' of mine, I am sorry for what you have been through."
"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly were you and your companions doing prior to your capture?"
She composes herself. "We were traveling. Headed to the Grand Lodge in Absalom. We had news from the northwest. News that must reach the Ten. We had set up gamp when those...those...those monsters came and attacked us in the night. They tied us up, convinced that we had more than we did. That we had hidden a cache of goods or money while we camped. They tortured us, eventually killing my companions. I guess when they realized there was no treasure, they took whatever the value they thought my flesh had."
Thomas apologetically states, "Again, I cannot stress how sorry I truly am at the way that you were treated." Showing obvious signs of discomfort, Thomas shifts the topic of conversation. "My friends and I are also on our way to Absolom to report news. We would be more than willing to escort you the remainder of the way, provided you don't mind if we stop off in Oppara. It seems that we are to be named "Knights of Taldor" by Prince Stavian himself. If I may ask, what is the word from the northwest?"
She looks at you. "Thank you for your kind offer." She maneuvers her crutches. "As you can see, I am not he best at traveling. Even with fellow Pathfinders the journey has been dangerous. I would be happy to go with you. I know I would feel safer." She settles herself on her bedroll. "The news...is odd. Reports of Drow asking for refuge in surface villages are springing up in Ustalav and Lastwall. I have even heard of some appearing in Irrisen. They say that their race is sick, that the sick have skin that is turning white...and they are weakened to the point of death. The ones that are not affected are leaving the Darklands...some claiming that their god has abandoned them, hoping that the answer lay in the light, others simply fleeing the illness. Needless to say, citizens are worried...and when people get worried, their governments get worried. That could be trouble. The best minds are the Pathfinders in Absalom, I know they can help."
Wong looks up from his study of the pile of valuables the group has amassed over time, a frown creasing his brow. "Some of the items, I had trouble detecting their magic auras earlier. Their Purpose. Magic is rarely poured into such items without a Purpose. Healing. Conjuring. Evoking. Items of power know their Purpose." He smiles briefly, his hand unconsciously moving to the rod holstered at his side. "This trouble continues. This is most disturbing. I am trying to remember if I have ever heard of such a phenomena before."
ReplyDeleteAs Wong examines the items, his casual, studied approach becomes more intense; more focused. Mumbling a few choice Ti'en words, he puts aside the ring he had pulled from the pile and grabs a scroll case. Removing the contents, he carefully unrolls the vellum sheet. Then another. and another. "My Read Magic spell fares no better. It is as my magics of information, of knowing, are losing their strength. This does not bode well."
ReplyDelete