Episode 32 – The Awakenings
| The Assassins |
Azareth - Wizard 3rd Level LE (PC) Creighton - Fighter 3rd Level LE (PC) Keldirk - Rogue 4th level NE (PC) |
| Locale | The Pauper's Graveyard, several miles outside of Del Mord |
| Date | 23rd Coldeven 582 CY (Common Year) |
| Time | Several hours before midnight |
A low stone wall marked the boundary of the Paupers' Graveyard encircling perhaps two square miles of grassy terrain. In some places the weed-choked stones of the wall were missing due to theft and only the entrance showed any sign of care. Silhouetted against the moonlit sky was a grass-covered hill that occupied fully a third of the graveyard, its crest was dotted with wooden markers bearing the starburst symbol of Pelor. As the two assassins walked along the overgrown trail to the centre of the cemetery a lone owl hooted its displeasure in the distance.
| Azareth | Have you been here before? |
| Keldirk | (scrapes some dung from his shoe onto a grave-marker) Once, when Craven and I dug up Argos. His grave is, er, was further to the north. (points) |
| Azareth | Do you have a plan of action? |
| Keldirk | (nods) We go sit on that hill over there and watch. But first I want to check out a small building in the centre of the cemetery. |
| Azareth | (raises his eyebrows) |
| Keldirk | Don't give me that look, you idiot. Have you got a better plan? |
| Azareth | (shakes his head) |
| Keldirk | Well shutup then. |
| Azareth | I didn't say a word. |
| Keldirk | I said shutup. |
| Azareth | (sighs) |
The trail into the graveyard ended at a small, stone building with a single barred window and a sturdy looking iron bound door. Above the door hung a large wooden sunburst carving, simple in design but an effective representation of the grander symbols displayed on the chapels throughout Del Mord. In stark contrast to the rest of the graveyard, this building seemed in good repair.
| Azareth | What is this; a mausoleum? |
| Keldirk | (laughs) Hardly. The people buried here could barely rub two coppers together. That's why they call it the Paupers' Graveyard, you idiot. For someone so smart, you certainly are stupid. |
| Azareth | Okay then sagacious one, what is it? |
| Keldirk | How the hell should I know? Let's find out. |
Keldirk set to work on the well-oiled lock while Azareth kept watch. It was an eerie place, and subconsciously Azareth wrapped his cloak about him as if to ward off evil spirits. Graves were placed haphazardly and from the smell it was clear many bodies had not been sufficiently buried. Death had always frightened Azareth, frightened him to the extent that he fervently hoped he would never feel its touch. Despite this, he did not feel that the study of necromancy would provide him with the answers he sought. History was littered with mages and priests who had tried to gain immortality via the dark art of necromancy and only succeeded in granting themselves an eternity of undeath. He was not sure where the answer to immortality would be found but he believed that if necromancy held any secrets then others would already have found them. The click of the lock broke Azareth from his reverie.
| Keldirk | We're in. |
Keldirk lit his lantern, drew a shortsword and cast Azareth a sidelong glance.
| Keldirk | If something happens in here, try to make yourself useful. (hands Azareth the lantern) |
| Azareth | (wryly) I'll see what I can do. |
With the tip of his sword Keldirk pushed open the door and moved carefully inside. Curiously the room seemed larger inside than its exterior dimensions seemed to indicate. Wood of various lengths was stacked on shelves that filled the northern wall, a large cabinet stood to the east and a tool-covered workbench occupied the southern wall. A cold brazier stood in the centre of the room beside a small pile of firewood.
| Keldirk | (over his shoulder) Looks empty. Wait here, there's a cupboard against the far wall that I'll check. Shine the light inside. |
| Azareth | (sarcastically) Yes sir. |
The cupboard was not locked and contained several burial shrouds, a small box of incense, well-worn ceremonial robes and a tarnished censer. Keldirk rifled through the contents and found nothing of interest. He shut the cupboard doors and moved across to the shelves of wood.
| Keldirk | This is the wood they use to make the coffins, I guess. (disappointed) There's nothing in here, let's go. |
| Azareth | (shutters the lantern) Let's go, where? What is it we are doing here, anyway? |
| Keldirk | (shrugs) Just working on a hunch. The zombies have to come from somewhere and I figure this place is a good place to get anonymous corpses. And if we can find out who's responsible for creating the Argos-zombie we might be able to get a lead on the whereabouts of the trill. And if we find the trill we will make the Marque de Ahb a happy man. |
| Azareth | How do you figure that, wise one? As I see it the Argos-zombie is little more than the discarded shell of a long gone hermit crab; finding the shell brings you no closer to knowing the whereabouts of the crab. |
| Keldirk | Fair enough. The truth, mage, if you can handle it, is that I want revenge. That Argos- zombie hurt me pretty bad and I want to get my pound of flesh from those responsible. That's why we're here; to find and hurt the people who dared to hurt me. Dared to hurt us. |
| Azareth | (rubs his shoulder, remembering the encounter with the Argos-zombie) You know, Keldirk, your ego is going to get you killed. If you want revenge against everybody who slights you, then you'll be dead before your twenty-second summer. |
| Keldirk | (laughs) That remains to be seen. So are you going to stay and help? |
| Azareth | Why not? |
| Keldirk | (smiles almost congenially) That's the spirit. |
After locking the door, the two companions made their way to a steep ridge on the northern side of the hill. They followed the ridge along the base of the hill until the gradient was sufficient to allow them easy access to the summit. It was apparent to the assassins that the hill was not originally intended to hold graves, and at one time sported a large number of ipp trees. Ipp stumps, while not as frequent as the grave-markers, were prevalent atop the hill as were a small number of trees. The two assassins climbed to the top of the hill were they had a good view of the entire cemetery.
The owl swept out of the darkness in a wide circle above the Paupers' Graveyard, its wings gliding effortlessly in the still night air. Suddenly the owl felt its master's call and flew the short distance back to the grove of trees where its master waited. The owl's excellent night vision enabled it to spot its master's outstretched arm even before it had begun its descent. With a flutter the owl landed on the studded gauntlets, its talons gouging the toughened leather.
| Kaak'erek | (in hobgoblin) What's the hold up? |
| Agarat | Patience, my dear. We shall return tomorrow. |
| Kaak'erek | Why? |
| Agarat | Two people mourn atop the hill. |
| Kaak'erek | (smiles evilly) Let's take them, then. Fresh corpses work just as well. |
| Agarat | (chuckles) We don't need the aggravation. We shall return tomorrow. |
The two moons rose and fell and by the time the sun broke the horizon Azareth and Keldirk were both thoroughly bored and disheartened. The cold spring air had chilled them to the bone and inaction had left them stiff and sore.
| Azareth | (watches the sun bring an emerald glow to the Del Forest canopy) Well, that's it I suppose. |
| Keldirk | Mmm. Same time tonight, then? |
| Azareth | You can not be serious. |
| Keldirk | (scoffs) Did you expect success on the first night? These things take time. |
| Azareth | I have my studies. I can ill afford to be away from the academy too long. |
| Keldirk | And I have my training at the thieves guild. What's your point? |
| Azareth | I can't help but feel we are wasting our time, that is my point. |
| Keldirk | (his tongue dripping venom) Then stay in Del Mord, Azareth. I can do this alone. |
| Azareth | (thinks for a moment then sighs resignedly) I will join you tonight unless the masters schedule me to stand vigil over the Eye of Scarius. But may I suggest that tonight we watch the graveyard in shifts; one watches while the other sleeps. This vantage point gives us a clear view over most of the graveyard and while Luna continues to shine one person on watch should suffice. |
| Keldirk | Agreed. |
Azareth and Keldirk trudged back to Del Mord and parted company at the gate. Azareth returned to the academy while Keldirk, who's training didn't begin until the afternoon, returned to the River Snag Hostel for some much-needed sleep.
| Keldirk | (enters the room and immediately spies his charred bedroll) What the fuck happened here? (kicks Creighton awake) |
| Creighton | What? |
| Keldirk | (points to his bed) What happened to my bed? |
| Creighton | (rubs the sleep from his eyes) Huh? |
| Keldirk | My bed! Who burnt my bed? |
| Creighton | (innocently) I dunno. |
| Keldirk | (swaps the ruined mattress with that of Craven's and stands back to survey his work) Better! (to Creighton) If anyone asks, it was always like this. |
| Creighton | (lies back down) Whatever. |
The next night Agarat and his hobgoblin companion, Kaak'erek, returned to a grove of trees some hundred yards from the Pauper's Graveyard. Agarat reached into his belt pouch and threw a small ceramic owl into the air, uttered a command word and watched as his magical owl took flight. Without a word Agarat sent the owl on a reconnaissance flight over the cemetery.
| Agarat | (eyes closed, he concentrates on the sensory input from his owl) Damn! |
| Kaak'erek | What? |
| Agarat | (in hobgoblin) They are here again. |
| Kaak'erek | The two mourners? |
| Agarat | Yes, but they are more than that I feel. One sleeps while the other watches the graveyard. |
| Kaak'erek | So? |
| Agarat | (murder shining bright in his eyes) Let's go pay them a visit, shall we? |
| Kaak'erek | (rubs her hands together and licks her lips) Let's. |
The two priests of Incabulus left the cover of the trees and made their way around to the south wall of the graveyard, careful to remain in the shadow of the trees.
| Agarat | We shall approach in silence, my dear, and move from shadow to shadow. We wouldn't want to give them any time to prepare, would we? |
| Kaak'erek | (smiles) Of course not. |
With a few arcane words, Agarat cast a magical silence upon a stone, handed it to his companion and signalled for them to proceed. Even though Kaak'erek tipped several stones from the wall as she stepped over it, no sound escaped the sphere of silence which surrounded the two priests. Carefully, they climbed the hill from the south, pausing often when their quarry peered in their direction. Before long, they had reached a point on the hill where no further progress could be made without being seen. Satisfied with his position behind a tree, some fifteen yards from their prey, Agarat motioned for Kaak'erek to approach.
| Azareth | Wake up, Keldirk. It's your shift. |
| Keldirk | (buckles his weapons belt about his waist) Have you seen anything? |
| Azareth | If I did you would already be awake, wouldn't you? |
| Keldirk | Why is it so dark? |
| Azareth | Some clouds have rolled in from the west, I would not be surprised if we get a little rain. It is sufficient to see by once your eyes adjust to the light. |
| Keldirk | Rain, wonderful. (sees a movement behind and left of Azareth) At least I got my sleep. (smiles, then whispers) Don't look but something is approaching us from behind you, maybe forty feet away. |
| Azareth | (in an urgent, hushed tone) What is it? |
| Keldirk | (using Azareth to shield him from view, frees two knives from his bandolier) I'm not sure, but it's hiding behind a tree stump. |
| Kaak'erek | (hears the hoot of Agarat's owl and realises that the silence spell has worn off, stands and unhooks her warhammer from her belt) |
| Keldirk | (nudges Azareth aside and prepares to throw at the approaching figure. He allowed it to get a little closer before stepping out from behind Azareth, his knives held ready) What the hell are you looking at? |
| Kaak'erek | (in broken common) What you do here? |
| Azareth | (deftly flips his component belt open) The same might be asked of you? |
| Keldirk | (peers around the immediate area, searching for signs of others) |
| Kaak'erek | (louder) Me say, what you do here? |
| Azareth | We mourn the passing of our companion, dear Bartholomew. |
| Kaak'erek | What? |
| Azareth | We are paying respects to our dead. |
| Keldirk | (spies another figure standing to the side of a tree, some fifty feet away. Moves behind Azareth and whispers in his ear) There is another one about fifty feet behind the first. |
| Azareth | (nods) |
| Kaak'erek | No whispers. Answer Kaak'erek. Why you here two nights? |
| Keldirk | We like the scenery. Why have you been here for two nights, hmm? |
| Kaak'erek | Me no answer you, scum. Down weapons or die. |
| Azareth | (swallows heavily and tries, unsuccessfully, to locate the other figure in the darkness) |
| Keldirk | No, goblin bitch, you put down your weapons or die. |
| Kaak'erek | Threaten me will you, pig! (hefts her warhammer) |
| Keldirk | I'll do more than that, goblinoid. |
| Kaak'erek | (takes a step forward) Squash head like bug, I will. |
| Keldirk | Go ahead, make your play. (smiles unkindly) |
| Kaak'erek | (menacingly steps forward, now only fifteen feet away) |
| Azareth | (sees the other figure move in the shadows of a tree and whispers to himself) Got you. |
| Keldirk | (under his breath) Just a little closer and your dead. |
| Azareth | (whispers) The other one has come out. |
| Keldirk | (snaps) I have eyes. |
| Kaak'erek | (still approaching, slowly) |
| Azareth | (takes several steps back, until he remembers the ridge scant feet behind him) |
| Kaak'erek | (holds her warhammer in one hand and frees her holy symbol with the other) |
| Keldirk | That'll do. (launches both knives at the hobgoblin one striking his opponent in the arm, the other battered away by the hobgoblin's warhammer) |
| Kaak'erek | (grunts as the blade slices into her biceps) |
| Agarat | (still fifteen yards away, beside a solid tree, hears the combat commence and begins to cast) |
| Azareth | Comt Airakan Khea Jair Soth Jalaran (two bolts of magical light shoot from Azareth's outstretched fingers, each one striking a separate assailant) |
| Agarat | (his spell foiled) Damn, a mage! |
| Kaak'erek | (winces as the pain from the bolt jolts her system) Graggh! (swings wildly at Keldirk, her warhammer whistling in the night air) |
| Keldirk | (ducks quickly, barely avoiding the deadly attack) Whoa! (whisks his short swords from their sheathes and lunges at the hobgoblin, missing with both) |
| Agarat | (with the confidence of one accustomed to combat, calmly begins casting a second spell, a shard of bone held before him) |
| Azareth | (steps back even further from the swirling melee, his footfalls sending a shower of rubble down the ridge, and begins to cast again) |
| Kaak'erek | (grips her warhammer with both hands and delivers a powerful blow toward Keldirk's head) |
| Keldirk | (manages to bring his forearm up to block the blow, turning what was sure to be a fatal blow into a bone-breaking wound) Arghh!! (his sword drops from his now useless left arm) |
| Owl | (hoots excitedly in the night sky) |
| Azareth | (completes his spell and conjures the image of three skeletons emerging from the ground around Kaak'erek, the illusion of the undead made all the more real by the sound of churning soil and rattling bones) |
| Keldirk | (eyes open wide as the skeletons begin to rise from nearby graves, begins to back away) |
| Azareth | (whispers harshly) Don't worry, their mine! |
| Skeletons | (approach Kaak'erek, their boney fingers outstretched and flexing menacingly) |
| Kaak'erek | (thinking the skeletons are in the thrall of Agarat, ignores them and renews her attack) |
| Agarat | (completes his spell and lifts his hands to the heavens, animating several corpses and calling them from their graves) |
In several places around the melee, corpses emerged from their place of rest. Rotted claws pushed up through the soil and sent clods of dirt into the air. The corpses rose from their graves, their mouths opened wide in silent screams as unlife filled their being. The stench of death was overwhelming and Agarat breathed in heavily, reveling in the familiar scent. Undead jaws clenched in the night, fingers and toes flexed as sinew and bone twitched in preternatural delight.
Azareth stood in stunned awe as he witnessed this bizarre resurrection; his phantasmal skeletons were a poor parody of true undeath. He felt the grip of fear take hold of his heart, paralysing his mind and body. The mage fought against the terror knowing that his life, and that of his companion, depended on his action.
| Keldirk | (sees more and more skeletons and zombies rise from the earth and shamble towards he and the hobgoblin, shouts to Azareth) Good work! |
| Azareth | (meekly) They're not all mine. |
| Keldirk | (avoids another powerful blow from Kaak'erek) What! |
| Kaak'erek | (grins malignly) You will die and be reborn as my puppet, human. |
| Keldirk | (swings his short sword at Kaak'erek, who bats it away with ease) Never! |
| Agarat | (directs his new-born children to feast on the flesh of the living) |
| Azareth | (his illusionary skeletons forgotten, watches as the zombies close in) Let's get out of here! (sweeps his cloak off his shoulders and flings it at the approaching undead) |
| Keldirk | (parries another blow and barely manages to keep hold of his blade) Agreed! (parries another powerful blow, but is knocked to his kness) Argh! (stabs his sword into the ground and throws a handful of dirt at the now towering figure of Kaak'erek) |
| Kaak'erek | (reels back, momentarily blinded) |
| Azareth | (looks over the ridge, spies a leafy bush at its base and casts his final spell upon it, enlarging the shrub to over half its size again) Keldirk (rises to his feet and flings his sword at Kaak'erek, then runs towards the ridge) |
| Kaak'erek | (dodges the spinning blade and strikes with her mace, catching only the hem of Keldirk's cloak) |
| Zombie #1 | (tears at Azareth's cloak) |
| Zombie #2 | (tries to rip Azareth's cloak in half) |
| Zombie #3 | (approaches Azareth, its claws opening and closing reflexively) |
| Zombie #4 | (ambles after Keldirk and follows him toward the ledge) |
Keldirk sprinted as fast as he could, his broken arm held against his chest, and leapt off the ridge and into space - his target a small, leafless tree some distance away. The young assassin's legs churned futilely in the air before he crashed heavily into the low branches. Winded and sorely cut, he fell to the ground his ankle savagely twisted.
Azareth felt the whoosh of wind as a zombie clawed at his back even as he launched himself off the ridge and onto the enlarged bush. While the bush prevented serious harm to the mage, the impact was sufficient to knock the wind out of his lungs and leave him breathless at the base of the ridge. He looked up to see a zombie topple over the edge and Kaak'erek peering toward Keldirk. Rising to his feet, Azareth stumbled across to where Keldirk lay.
| Azareth | Keldirk, can you walk? |
| Keldirk | I can bloody well walk out of here. |
| Azareth | How about run? |
| Keldirk | (stands and tests his twisted ankle) I'll need some help. |
| Azareth | (his expression grim) That is why I am here. |
| Agarat | (approaches the precipice and places a hand on Kaak'erek's shoulder) |
| Kaak'erek | (watches the two figures limp away) Me chase. Them sore. |
| Agarat | No. (looks around at the now stationary zombies) We have what we came for. |
| Kaak'erek | (nods) Next time, huh? |
| Agarat | (in hobgoblin) Of course. Did you know them? |
| Kaak'erek | No, but I would recognise them if I saw them again. |
| Agarat | Excellent. |
| The Assassins |
Craven - Fighter / Rogue 2nd / 2nd LE (CE emerging) (PC) |
| Locale | Blademaster Jean Anoir's estate, several miles outside of Del Mord |
| Date | 26th Coldeven 582 CY (Common Year) |
| Time | Several hours before midnight |
Craven's eyes snapped open, all memory of the dream dissipated like rising steam. It took several moments to remember where he was but slowly awareness returned and he allowed himself to relax. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he let his mind wander as he listened to the sounds of the night.
The wooded area three miles outside Del Mord was a peaceful place, far from the hustle and bustle of the crowded city. Despite the intense training, Craven felt rejuvenated at Blademaster Jean Anoir's estate. He was more like his old self and was better able to contain the anger that seemed to bubble beneath the surface of his emotions. Insects chirped and buzzed in the nearby trees, rabbits and other small game foraged in the greenery as owls hunted in the dark sky above. The place was teeming with life and, for the sixth time in as many nights, Craven felt attuned to each and every living thing. His heartbeat quickened when an owl spied its prey and swooped down to grip an unfortunate rodent in sharp talons. Craven felt as if he were a part of the primal struggle for survival, which climaxed when the owl's razor-like talons pierced the rodent's pounding heart. This was how Craven spent his nights, waking from some half-remembered dream to share the struggles of the creatures of the night.
Absently Craven scratched at his newly formed beard; the stubble had grown to a length that irritated his normally clean-shaven face. Several times he had begun to shave but felt great discomfort sitting before a mirror, so he resigned himself to his fate and put up with the torment his beard provided.
Craven closed his eyes and sent his awareness to find Celeste, the Blademaster's daughter. She was not beautiful but Craven had discovered that he was able to bring his body into harmony with hers and thus bring about a level of intimacy that physical contact could only hope to emulate. He didn't know if Celeste was aware of his nightly telepathic intrusions, but since they had begun she seemed to spend more time in his company. Craven was conscious of the Blademaster's importance to both the Family and his training so he was careful to control his rising passion. Knowing Bladmaster Anoir would castrate him should he go to Celeste, the young assassin resigned himself to these strange moments of intimacy.
As his awareness drifted about her Craven could sense her pleasure. The light touch of the soft cotton sheets, the support of the soft down filled pillow, the warm snugness of her quilted blanket keeping her safe from the chill of the night. Craven felt more alive during these moments and his senses gained a keen edge. He allowed his awareness to drift from Celeste out toward other living things; he took in their emotions as he passed by, moving from creature to creature and delighting in the power he felt.
It was then that he sensed them. Four men, hidden in the woodlands behind the house. The feelings he drew from these men were dark and to Craven it felt like a draught of soured wine after the sweet taste of ambrosia.
Instantly Craven was alert. He dressed rapidly, donned his armour and strapped his weapons around his waist before stepping out of his room and into the hallway. He tried to send his awareness out again but he knew it was futile - that power only seemed to exist in the fragile moments between sleep and wakefulness and these men had forced Craven to lose its sweet taste. And, for that, they would pay!
The hallway outside his room was dark but Craven had long adjusted to the fact that his eyesight at night was almost as good as during the day - another of the many changes effecting his mind and body. He walked silently through the darkened house, pausing occasionally to listen for any sign of the attackers. Upon reaching the back door, Craven stood by the window and peered into the gardens. He located the area where he first sensed the four men and spent several tense minutes searching for any further sign. Suddenly he spied one of them crouching below the kitchen window and working at the window's clasp. A second man stood beside the first, his head turning periodically as he surveyed the grounds. While he watched, Craven saw a third man approach the pair from the side of the house. The newcomer spoke briefly with the standing man, pointing up toward the roof of the house.
The men were dressed appropriately in dark cloaks and leather armour, Craven could see no sign of glinting metal and assumed that they had their weapons coated in weaponblack. Their faces were also covered, either in black material or charcoal. These men were professionals, that much was obvious, and Craven wondered if they knew whose house they were breaking into; Blademaster Jean Anoir was not someone to be taken lightly. His skill with weapons was immense and his reputation, while not great, was sufficient to earn him this estate and make his otherwise homely daughter much sought after by suitors.
The man by the kitchen window had finished working on the lock and now stood indicating his success to the others. There was a brief discussion, one man turned and walked around the side of the house while the two remaining men climbed through the now open window. Craven smiled, there was only one way out of the kitchen, he drew his rapier and walked silently toward the kitchen door. He would have to end this quickly or the man on the roof might get too far into the house. Craven berated himself at not waking the Blademaster but quickly put such thoughts from his mind as he steeled himself for the task at hand.
Craven waited until he could hear both men inside the kitchen and positioned himself right before the kitchen door. The door opened inwards so he did not have to stand outside its arc. He stood, weapon held at the ready, and waited for the door handle to turn.
| Craven | (sees the door handle turn and the door open to a crack, lifts his foot and kicks at the door with all his might) |
| Man #1 | (hit by the door and is flung back, his head striking the kitchen table - falls to the ground stunned) |
| Craven | (sees one man down, concentrates his attacks on the remaining man, thrusting forward savagely) |
| Man #2 | (surprised by the sudden opening of the door steps back and raises his weapon barely in time to block the thrust aimed at his heart) |
| Craven | (frustrated at not dispatching his opponent, aims a thrust high, before bringing the blade slashing down - opening a slice on the man's forearm) |
| Man #2 | (unable to see, tries a desperate slash at his attacker - but misses) |
| Man #1 | (struggles to stand but, hearing the sound of combat nearby, decides to crawl under the table and attempt to clear his head) |
| Craven | (realises his advantage and stabs Man #2 through the chest with his rapier) |
| Man #2 | Aarghhh. (dies) |
| Man #1 | (hears someone gasp and fall to the floor decides to remain silent in the hope that he might not be found) |
| Craven | (quickly scans the kitchen and locates the other man hiding beneath the table) Who hired you? |
| Man #1 | (holds his breath when he realises that it was his companion who had been killed - slowly draws a dagger) |
| Craven | (crouches at the head of the table and looks directly at Man #1, noticing the blackened dagger in his hand) There's nowhere for you to go, and I don't have time to waste talking to you. |
| Man #1 | (bunches his feet and leaps out from under the table in the direction of Craven's voice, hoping to catch his opponent by surprise) |
| Craven | (sees Man #1 prepare for the leap and moves deftly aside) |
| Man #1 | (realises his error but is unable to alter his course, lands on the kitchen floor and rolls dexterously to his feet) |
| Craven | (waits for Man #1 to rise before stabbing him through the stomach with a stiletto) |
| Man #1 | (dies) |
Craven wiped his blades and stepped over the two dead men. He hurriedly climbed the stairs and hoped to get to the other men before Jean or Celeste were hurt. The sound of combat told him he was too late, but that sound also meant that it was Jean not Celeste. Craven smiled and slowed his pace but continued his approach. He rounded a corner and saw Jean in combat with one of the two remaining men. Jean's style was magnificent, his light blade flashing in and out of the other man's pathetic defence. Craven stood and watched the Blademaster in action, marveling at the older man's skills. Before Jean could finish his opponent, the fourth man stepped into the hallway between Craven and the combat; a knife held to Celeste's throat.
| Man #4 | (unaware of Craven's presence, faces the Blademaster - his knife held firmly against Celeste's exposed throat) Lower your weapon, old man, and toss it into the hallway. |
| Jean | (lowers his sword) Release my daughter. If she is harmed I will see you flayed alive. |
| Man #4 | (smiles) You are in no position to make demands, old man. Lower your weapon or this blade will find your daughter's throat. |
| Man #3 | (steps back thankfully, nursing a number of wounds) Kill the bitch. The two of us should be able to finish off this old man. |
| Man #4 | (shakes his head) The old man seemed pretty handy with that blade. We'll wait until the others get here and then we'll take care of things. (to the Blademaster) I told you to drop your sword. |
| Celeste | (very scared) Please, father! (sobbing uncontrollably) Don't let them hurt me. |
| Jean | (looks at his sword and then tosses it to the ground) Okay, now let her go. |
| Man #4 | (to his companion) Pick up the sword, Dariuk, and throw it away. We don't want it anywhere near that guy. |
| Man #3 | (nods and bends to retrieve the sword) |
Craven saw his opening. Gripping his stiletto tightly in his left hand, he crept silently behind the man holding Celeste as hostage. The lantern light shining from Jean's bedroom kept Craven in shadow until he was almost upon the man. Craven took hold of the man's wrist that held the knife and plunged his stiletto deep into the man's back. The point of the blade pierced his victim's heart and lungs, ending his life instantly. The other man barely had time to turn before Craven wrenched his companion's lifeless body away from the still terrified girl.
| Craven | (a cruel smile on his face) Your companions will not be joining you tonight I'm afraid, but I have a feeling you will soon be joining them. (feels his temper begin to rise and steps forward, all pretense at style gone) |
| Man #3 | (still holding Jean's rapier, throws it at Craven before rushing forward sword arm outstretched) Aaarrrgggh! |
| Craven | (sees everything as if it were happening in slow motion - dodges the spining blade, moves forward and catches his opponents outstretched arm in a vice-like grip. In a fluid motion he brings the man's arm down across his knee, breaking it at the elbow) |
| Man #3 | (screams in pain as his arm is broken) |
| Craven | (forces the still rushing man against a wall) |
| Man #3 | (unable to stop his forward momentum, crashes into the wall and collapses to his knees, all thought of combat forgotten) Please, don't kill me. Please, sir, I have a family. |
| Craven | (kneels beside Man #3, blood pounding in his head, draw's the man's own dagger) You should have thought of that before you came here. (slices the blade across the man's throat and watches as the gout of blood sprays over the dying man's face) |
| Jean | (rushes to his daughter's aid, quickly averting her gaze from the grizzly scene) Are you hurt, Celeste? |
| Celeste | (sobbing) No, father, I am okay. |
| Jean | (to Craven) Such fury, ill becomes you Master Craven. I had thought my training had been better understood. |
| Craven | (stares at the man before him in fascination and barely registers the blademaster's words) What? |
| Jean | If that man had any semblance of training it could be you who now lies in a pool of blood. (ushers his daughter into her room) Take the bodies outside and inform the authorities. |
| Craven | (looks up and shakes his head as if waking from a dream. Sees the blood splattered over him and notices the bodies in the hallway) Yes, of course. (still a little confused) |
Craven did not see Blademaster Anoir or his daughter again until midday. He spent the remainder of the night dragging the bodies outside and waking servants to clean up the mess. After a quick bath Craven saddled a horse and rode to Del Mord where he alerted the guardsmen of the incident. A small group of the watch accompanied him back to Blademaster Anoir's estate. Craven spent the rest of the morning answering questions; the details of the night were still a bit hazy.
His training that afternoon and that evening was rigorous; Blademaster Jean constantly emphasised the need for control and composure when engaging an opponent. The uncontrolled fury Craven displayed the previous night may have been successful on that occasion, but Jean taught him that such emotion could often hide the important nuances of an upcoming thrust or parry. It was, as Blademaster Anoir insisted, imperative that Craven master his rage - for it could well be his undoing.
| Normal Text | Character's words or descriptive text if part of a paragraph |
| Italic Text | Character's thoughts or actions if surrounded by parenthesis |
| Bold Text | Character is shouting. |