by Domino Finn
Combo!
You dealt 44 damage to [Blackwood Prisoner]
[Blackwood Prisoner] is defeated
I spun and triggered deadshot on another.
Combo!
You dealt 67 damage to [Blackwood Prisoner]
[Blackwood Prisoner] is defeated
The last one charged me. My spear met his sword.
Two crusaders engaged the last two prisoners, but the real battle was in the center of the camp. Grimwart shook away his shock to see the knight protecting him have his blade snap in half under the warden's axe. The blow dug into his helmet and cleaned out the crusader's health.
Vagram thrust two hands high and uttered a prayer. Bronze swords instantly materialized in his hands. At the same time, a golden sheen washed over us.
Divine Right!
For the next 30 seconds, your attacks inflict extra damage.
He twirled toward the warden. Before Hood could raise his axe, the flashing blades connected with his armored midsection.
[Vagram] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
[Vagram] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
The black figure raised his arms and blocked the follow-up strikes with his vambraces.
Grimwart circled the monster and slashed at the back of his leg, but a chain snaked across the ground and wrapped up the heavy sword.
I lowered my spear and barreled toward them. The cleric and the warden were fully engaged, but the shadowy enemy was aware of my presence. Another ghostly chain rolled across the floor at me.
I planted my spear and vaulted over it before slamming both boots into Hood's chest.
The oversized juggernaut didn't budge. I found myself off balance and slamming into the ground. The chain that I had jumped circled my neck and tightened.
Curse!
10 damage
Curse!
10 damage
As I struggled to free myself, the warden recovered his axe from the dead crusader's body and forced Vagram to back away.
"Arr!" growled Errol as he skidded under the axe. "The only thin' I hate more than prisons are prison keepers!" His rapier snapped the chain holding Grimwart's sword.
The orphaned length of metal dissolved into mist. The colonel immediately completed his blow, slashing heavy steel across the warden's vulnerable calf.
Surprise!
Break!
[Grimwart] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
Despite the depressing damage notification, the hooded enemy snarled and dropped to one knee. Errol moved in, sinking his sword into the warden's side.
[Errol] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
"We can't hurt him," complained the pirate.
I choked loudly, desperately clawing my neck for a life-saving gasp of air. Grimwart, thankfully, noticed my plight. He crushed the chain strangling me. The remains wafted away in black smoke.
The downed enemy saw his opening. Hood swung his weapon with both hands. Grimwart, distracted with me, didn't even see it coming. The axe sliced cleanly into his side.
Critical!
Surprise!
Curse!
[Hood] dealt 87 damage to [Grimwart]
The colonel collapsed, temporarily unable to move. A lot of blood poured from the hole in his black armor.
The warden attempted to rise but his status effect crippled him. He fell back to his knee. I rolled backward out of his range as frozen projectiles battered into him.
[Izzy] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
[Izzy] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
[Izzy] dealt 0 damage to [Hood]
"What are we supposed to do?" I grumbled.
The Blackwood prisoners had all been cut down. Izzy and the other two crusaders converged as Vagram held his two swords together like a cross and stepped toward our attacker.
"In the name of the White King I hereby—"
A black chain whipped out and caught the cleric's left arm. Another caught his right. Vagram's eyes sparkled with hate as the heavy chains ripped his arms, and the crucifix, apart.
"I bow only to the wild king," snarled the warden. Once again, he forced himself to rise, but somehow, through sheer will, he remained on his feet. He swung his axe.
Still trying to breathe through a sore windpipe, I slashed the dragonspear and broke one of the chains snagging Vagram. His bronze sword almost recovered to a defensive position in time. It intercepted the path of the axe but couldn't set with any strength behind it. Both weapons slammed into Vagram's breastplate and rocketed him to the ground ten feet out.
"The horses," urged Errol.
The crusaders attended Vagram instead of taking the offensive. Errol likewise hooked one of Grimwart's shoulders and I helped with the other. We dragged the heavily armored man away from danger.
Izzy stepped forward with her hands out, building a slab of ice before her. It grew into a wall as the warden succeeded in taking a hobbled step.
Vagram produced his bronze cross and washed the party with a healing buff, but several error sounds resounded.
You are cursed! Curse damage cannot be healed by normal means.
Vagram and Grimwart were similarly disappointed. "How can this be?" demanded the cleric. Grimwart only gasped in pain.
"The horses," urged Errol. "It be the only way."
I nodded in agreement.
"Catechists do not run," stressed Vagram, but the pair of crusaders holding him back cast forlorn glances at their two brothers, still dead on the floor. I had a feeling Vagram couldn't raise them from the dead so soon after doing it already, but I wondered if the curse damage prevented it anyway. What was clear was that those two soldiers were not getting back up.
I whistled sharply. Bandit galloped up and Errol helped me sling Grimwart over her back. The crusaders moved to their horses.
"There is no escape," boomed the executioner. He took a pained step forward.
"Escape this," said Izzy. By now she had built the chunk of ice into a respectable wall just over her height and three people wide. With a sudden push, the iceberg slid along the ground and homed in on the warden. He growled but was too hobbled to move. The magic crashed into him and bowled him over.
Doing 0 damage, of course.
Izzy whipped around and took Grimwart's horse. Everybody mounted up as the warden of the Blackwood brushed himself off and climbed to his feet. He limped forward slowly and recovered his dropped axe. I kicked Bandit and didn't look back.
0730 Midnight Run
We rode as hard as we could, but we were limited with the wounded. I was fine besides a constricted voice box. Vagram was missing a quarter of his health and had to be sore all over. Grimwart was even worse off. He was in grievous pain, missing two-thirds of his health, and it was all unhealable. After more than an hour's ride, Grimwart slid off Bandit's back. We pulled around to rest.
"I don't think stopping's a good idea," said Izzy.
"The warden was hobbled," I said. "He has to be an hour behind us at least."
"I don't know. We've been on horseback two days and he still caught us."
I worked my jaw. She was right. Whatever mystical powers drove the executioner's relentless pursuit, they couldn't be countered by normal means. I brooded on the awful situation for a minute until I noticed Vagram studying me. I shook it off and approached the cleric and Grimwart.
"How is he?"
"I'm fine," said the colonel through clenched teeth.
Vagram sighed. "He's not fine. I've staunched the bleeding but my holy magic is failing to counteract the curse. I've never seen anything like it. There's more afoot than I've accounted for."
Errol sauntered close. "Can ye get him back on the bongo? At this pace, the crags be less than an hour northward. We'll be safe in the water."
The cleric bitterly surveyed the remaining men. Control seemed to be spilling away from him. "We have no choice."
We mounted up and charged toward the sea. Soon the rushing water and crashing waves were an audible hum on the breeze. Salt and the smell of rotten fish
filled the air, turning our noses. Near the same time, sunlight broke in the east. A low fog settled in the sky and along the ground. Judging by my experience in Portland, the marine layer would keep the morning dark and cool for a while.
It was the same fog that kept the coast hidden until we were practically upon it.
"We've arrived," announced Errol, dismounting on rocky ground. The mist tickling our faces hid the steep drop-off several yards ahead. I hopped to the ground and stepped lightly ahead. A horizontal beam of sunlight pierced the cloud cover and lit the horizon.
The ocean spanned the distance below the cliffs at our feet. It was a seventy-foot drop, at least. To the east and a little ways south was Shorehome, long docks stretching into the ocean. To the west and a little ways north was a huge circle of rock that formed a bay wider than the city.
"Is that—"
"The Salt Sea," said Errol. "The ringed wall forms a breakwater that protects Shorehome from the harshest the seas can muster."
"So Shorehome isn't actually on the Salt Sea?"
"Not on it, nay. Beside it. The Salt Sea be not a true sea. Too shallow fer galleons. Too rich with mineral fer fishing. It's dead water, it is."
It was so close, maybe thirty minutes to its shore, but it was in the opposite direction to which we were traveling. I traded a knowing glance with Izzy.
Vagram joined us on the cliffside. "We've reached the shore, pirate. What's your plan?"
"We scale down the crag. I have a boat hidden that will suit us. Then we sail into Shorehome under the cover o' fog." He crossed his arms. "What say you, cleric? Is the holy mission still on?"
Vagram frowned as he pondered Grimwart. "Colonel, I think it unwise that you continue."
"I'm perfectly capable—"
"You are in desperate need of a holy man. My powers have failed you. The only recourse is a consultation with Bishop Tannen."
"In Stronghold," said Grimwart, deflated.
"We are a small band sneaking into a city. Your condition would draw too much attention to us. Your army can use you back at Stronghold. We should be fine."
Grimwart winced. "Of course. If you think it best."
"And pirate," added Vagram in a tone of warning, "if you think us weak and attempt any trickery against our diminished numbers, I must remind you that I can more than handle common villainy on my own."
Errol scowled and spat into the ocean.
"Let's tone down the vitriol," I pleaded. "We're all in this together. We need Errol to get into this city."
"Yes," muttered the cleric, "but his feelings on the saints are clear. I might as well make mine so as well."
Izzy wandered close. "Uh, guys?" She pointed her winter staff southward.
Through the distant fog, a lone figure hulked toward us.
I blinked. "How in the..."
"We need to move!" barked Errol. "Divide the party. Good luck to ye, Grimwart. Sleep with the world at yer back."
"Wait," said the cleric. "We can't leave them out here. They won't be safe."
"They will," I cut in. "Hood has no business with the crusaders. He wants this." I produced the crown of the wild king. The cleric's eyes glittered as they fell upon it.
"This... this travesty is your doing." His head shook with rage. "I have grossly miscalculated in thinking the pirate was the largest threat to us."
"How was I supposed to know—"
"Were you not warned? The warden of the Blackwood does not cross the continent lightly. Give me that." He reached for the stag skull.
I pulled it away. "What? No way. This is part of a pagan quest. A quest which your people have funded, I might add."
"YOU'VE ENDANGERED THE QUEST!" he spat.
Everybody froze, combat-ready men ready for combat. Besides the staff in Izzy's hand, no weapons were drawn.
"Uh, guys?" she reminded lightly.
Hood lumbered closer, no longer afflicted with a wounded leg. He held the executioner's axe horizontally in both hands. The mist danced around him, revealing the straps of leather and chains snaking around his form. But his eyes shone through. Always his eyes, glowing white and hot and hateful.
Vagram spun to one of the two remaining crusaders. "Take the horses. See your colonel safely back to Stronghold. Protect him. Observe your hymns and prayers. Do not let him die."
The knight grunted and mobilized. The cleric turned to me.
"Talon, I require the crown."
"Not gonna happen," I said gruffly.
The last crusader shuffled nervously. I clenched my fist. Vagram finally flicked his gaze to the approaching executioner and hissed, "Pirate, lead the way."
"Now yer talking!" said Errol.
He descended the crag, finding slivers of paths between the jagged red rock. What remained of the fellowship followed carefully. Grimwart galloped away with the one-man escort and the horses. I turned to Bandit.
"Let her go," called Errol. "She can't make it down the slope."
"You wanna bet?"
He paused and sighed. "Listen, matey, any other place an' time I'd take that wager, but we can't afford it now. It don't matter if yer mount can make it down these cliffs or not, because at the bottom be a skiff she can't fit in, and our destination be a city she can't enter without paper. Hell, a giant striped deer would attract even more attention than a damned dyin' knight."
"Language," cautioned Vagram.
The pirate scoffed. "She ain't gettin' on the boat, and that's final." Errol continued down without another word.
Izzy lowered her head and patted Bandit's neck. "She should be fine," she said.
Bandit cocked her head, seemingly understanding the predicament.
I scrubbed her chin. "They're right. You'd actually be safer out here. It took you days to get used to Stronghold."
She licked my hand.
I faced the executioner, a hundred feet away. "Now get outta here." I pushed Bandit and she charged west after the crusaders.
Izzy scrambled down the cliffside. With a last look at our pursuer, I took the rear and followed.
The descent was less arduous than it looked. With my scaling skill, it was cake for me, but even Vagram in his heavy armor fared well. I suspected that mostly had to do with Errol's familiarity with the slope. We made good time, and no matter how many times I peeked up, I didn't catch a glimpse of the warden.
At the bottom, water roared and crashed in a chaotic bramble, soaking everything around. Errol pivoted into a cave hidden in the crags. It wasn't deep or dark but it offered shelter from the rougher seas, seas which were already calmed by the nearby breakwater. That meant it was possible to dock a boat against these rocks, even if a bit dangerous. Sure enough, Errol's flat skiff rested on dry land.
"This is your boat?" I chuckled. "What do you have, a crew of seagulls?"
Errol sneered. " 'Tis but a smuggler's vessel. Now grab that end."
"Aye, aye, Captain!" I said mockingly.
We helped him push off, loaded up, and paddled out to sea. Within minutes, water separated us from the coast, and we were blanketed by a sheen of fog.
"We're safe," I sighed.
"We are not," assured Cleric Vagram bitterly, "as long as you carry that pagan beacon."
"Beacon?"
"How else do you figure the Blackwood knows your whereabouts?"
I grumbled. "You should be thanking us, you know. We broke into the Black Keep. We stole the crown of the wild king. We can destroy it in the Salt Sea."
"Destroy it?" His eyes lit up. "I am a holy man, Talon. Place the crown under my protection. I will keep watch over it."
"You gonna give me a few thousand XP and some loot for my trouble?"
He hissed.
"I didn't think so. I'll hold onto it. Hood can't get to us in Shorehome, can he?"
We all studied the coastline. The low fog hid the water and land. It made the city appear as disparate buildings in the clouds. Waterborne vessels were visible mostly by their sails. The docks in the distance
glowed with yellow-green lanterns lining their length. A low boat like ours without a sail or torch, well, it was practically invisible.
"You forget," muttered Vagram, "Shorehome is a pagan town now. The warden may come and go as he pleases." He turned to me. "We are the intruders here."
"Pipe down with yer talk o' intruders," snapped Errol. "Get the stowed cloaks from the box. Put 'em on. Can't be having yer crusader armor advertisin' our mission."
Izzy handed the clothes to the knight and cleric. The two of us didn't need a disguise. Even if I was semi-famous, the magic of my stranger's cowl would keep me mostly anonymous. Just as good as a cloak, anyway.
"It's a good idea," said Vagram sharply, handing me a folded length of red satin.
"I don't need it," I said.
"It's not for you. If you refuse to hand over the crown, the least you could do is keep it out of sight." He thrust the item toward me again. I accepted and examined it.
[Treasure Sack]
This soft bag masks its contents from prying eyes. Besides being the bane of thieves, the enchanted satin blocks magical effects, rendering encased items inert.
"Huh," I said.
Despite its small size, the crown of the wild king easily slid inside. I didn't feel different as I put the sack into my inventory, but a bellicose wail in the distance pierced the fog.
0740 Sea Wolf
We paddled through the morning gloom, silently scanning the rocky shoreline. We weaved between lifeless boats. At first, it felt like a graveyard. Not a sound beyond the cackles of the seabirds. Not a hint of movement or boisterous laughter.