The Companions of Tartiël
Page 10
Caineye nodded. He glanced at Vinto, then looked up as if hit by sudden inspiration. With a whispered prayer to the powers of nature, the druid leaned down, and, before Kaiyr’s eyes, turned into a wolf. The man’s armor seemed to melt into his body, replaced by fur that sprouted all over him, starting at his elongated snout and ending at the tail that sprouted from his rear. When he looked back up at the blademaster, the only distinguishing difference between Caineye and Vinto was the color of their eyes. Even then, since Vinto’s eyes were a mirror of Caineye’s—his right blue and the left green—the similarity made it impossible to tell them apart.
The wolf Caineye nodded at Kaiyr, a strange motion in an animal, to be sure, and the blademaster returned the gesture, moving before the door. Then, with a sudden, “Hya!” he kicked open the door, snapping the latch from the frame and sending the whole door shuddering back on its hinges.
Kaiyr’s soulblade appeared in his hand, but before he could do anything else, two gray streaks rushed by him and into the small, one-room cabin. They launched themselves at the shadow, but the canines’ attacks passed right through the form’s essence, not disturbing it in the least. It did not even seem to take notice of the attack.
“He—help!” cried the girl on the floor, gasping. “Make him stop.”
Kaiyr backed his way toward her, careful to keep his eyes averted. As he knelt, her words struck him. “You can speak!—never mind that. Who is doing this?”
Arching her back in pain and straining at the darkness-emanating chains, she tipped her chin at the form in the chair. “He’s… he’s—uhhh!” Straining against the agony had been too much for her, and she stopped talking, lingering at the edge of unconsciousness, her body limp but shaking.
“Master Caineye,” Kaiyr called, and he realized he had forgotten that the druid could not reply when he was answered with a bark and a dismayed whine. “I know,” the blademaster replied, “but perhaps—”
“Leave this place at once!” roared a disembodied voice that shook the timbers of the cabin and made Kaiyr suddenly grip his soulblade tighter. “Your meddling here will only bring about your deaths!”
Kaiyr snarled back in swiftly rising anger, “Release this woman, wretch!” He twirled his glassy weapon in his hand and glanced about the room, seeking an adversary. Then, in Sylvan, “Master Caineye. See if you and Vinto can find any secret doors or chambers. We shall flush him out.”
The voice echoed in the room again, but softer. “If you do not leave, you shall perish. Take this as your final warning!” As the words faded, two small plumes of smoke erupted on the opposite side of the room, and from the quickly dispersing fog emerged two scorpions the size of large housecats. Their pincers snapped and threw sparks, and their tails glowed with fiery light.
“Summoned creatures,” Kaiyr muttered, stepping forward and meeting one of the scorpions as it scuttled toward him. One of the two wolves launched himself at the other, quickly snapping the thing’s body with a shake of his powerful jaws as Kaiyr dispatched the other one with a contemptuous flick of his soulblade. The creatures dissipated into smoke again, and the blademaster growled at the empty air, “Stop wasting our time.” A short laugh rang through the room, and the shadowy being in the rocking chair faded. With a creak, the chair stopped moving.
He knelt by the girl again after releasing his soulblade. “My lady, can you understand me?”
“What?” she replied shakily. “Kaiyr, you’re here.”
“Yes,” he replied softly. She seemed to be in less pain. Perhaps whoever was sending spells at him and Caineye had to concentrate on the young woman in order to bring on the agony. “I need you to do something, so that we may better help you. Can you suppress your blinding aura?”
“Mm,” she said, clearly exhausted. Kaiyr didn’t want to think about how long she must have been here, enduring this torture. “Sorry.”
The light faded, and Kaiyr looked at her. He was almost sorry he had, but he knew it was his duty to bear witness to the atrocities that had befallen her. Her skin had been marred with little cuts everywhere, and purple bruises all over her arms and legs marked where she had been beaten. One of her eyes was blackened and swollen.
Silently, he took it all in before his eyes traveled down her arms and legs, to where she lay bound to the floor. With a lascivious grin, the blademaster slid out of his robes and lay beside her, tearing savagely at her clothes and crooning sensual promises into her ear.
*
Dingo stared at me as I grinned. Matt and Xavier let out amused chuckles as Dingo gaped. Finally, he said, “Do you seriously do that?”
“No dice!” I said, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender.
“No dice?” he asked, but Xavier was nodding. Matt, who had also not heard the expression before, already seemed to grasp its meaning.
“It means I was just kidding,” I said. “I felt the need to lighten the mood. I mean, we’ve all been so serious for the past two hours.”
“Too bad Wild’s unable to see the kinky bondage,” Matt agreed.
Dingo just laughed. “I got it. ‘No dice,’ huh? I like that. Maybe I’ll use it in the future.”
“Yeah, I started using it in James’ game,” I told him. “I’d say something highly undiplomatic, and he’d tell me to roll, but I’d drop my dice and say that.”
“Nice,” the DM replied. “Okay, but seriously, what do you do?”
*
Kaiyr stared in consternation at the chains. From behind him, one of the wolves sniffed at the floor, finally letting out a decisive whuffle and pawing at one of the rugs to move it out of the way.
The blademaster found himself distracted by the wolf’s noises, and he turned to see that one of them had found a trapdoor hidden under a throw rug. The wolf’s form slithered and reformed into Caineye. “A secret door,” said the druid.
Kaiyr nodded. “I shall try to release her now.”
Calling to his spirit again, Kaiyr once more grasped his glassy blade with its warm, golden hilt covered in intricate designs and graceful curves. Standing over the chains binding the girl’s left leg, he brought his weapon down in a decisive strike. But upon connecting with the magical chains, the soulblade shattered into a thousand shards that dissipated into the air.
Caineye gasped. “Kaiyr!”
The blademaster, puzzled, looked back at the druid as his soulblade reformed in his right hand. “What?”
Seeing that nothing was amiss, the human blew a sigh. “Never mind”
Again, Kaiyr tried to attack the chains, to the same results. As he straightened, both of them heard a thumping sound from down below.
“I guess we have our answer,” Caineye said with a gleam in his eye. “Shall we?” He leaned down and tugged on the door’s handle as Kaiyr strode toward the hatch. Pulling it open, the two peered in and saw that there was a modicum of light emanating from somewhere.
Tucking his arms in, Kaiyr disdained the rickety ladder leading downward, instead simply dropping into the room—right into the middle of some dark ritual as a dark-robed figure chanted mysterious phrases over a small collection of magical implements. Tendrils of dark energy snaked up toward the ceiling, and judging by their position, linked to the chains binding the winged woman to the ritual.
“Beware!” Kaiyr shouted to Caineye, manifesting his soulblade and rushing in to engage the enemy. The spellcaster looked up just in time to jump out of the way of Kaiyr’s first strike, which cleaved through the bowl of inky liquid set at the center of a ritual drawing.
Caineye landed in the cellar just in time to see the creature’s hood fall back, revealing a human with a shaved head and jagged tattoos scrawled across his gaunt cheeks.
“Foolish meddlers,” snarled the man. “You should have gone on your merry way. Let me help you with that now.” With a flick of his wrist and an uttered word, he sent three glowing, white projectiles at the blademaster, who deftly dodged out of the way, only to be surprised a moment later when the magi
c missiles darted right back at him, striking his back and shoulders. A shock of pain tore through the elven warrior’s body, and he distantly heard Caineye cry out in surprise.
A stone launched from the druid’s sling whizzed past Kaiyr’s head and ricocheted off an invisible barrier around the wizard. The delay gave Kaiyr the moment he needed to clear his head and stave off the shooting pain. Scowling, the blademaster looked up in time to see the wizard pull out a small bag and a candle before beginning to cast another spell.
Having little desire to let his enemy get another chance to kill him, Kaiyr darted forward, grabbed the focus implements from his enemy’s hands, and threw them at opposite walls. Continuing his momentum, he plowed into the man with his shoulders, and both of them crashed to the ground. The surprised wizard could offer little resistance as the blademaster wrestled him onto his stomach, pulling out a thin cord and binding the man’s hands and fingers behind his back.
Snarling, the human mage turned and glared daggers at his captor as Caineye strode over. “Kertas disonum telares—ow!” His incantation, which had been gathering energy around him, found its end when Kaiyr’s fist slammed into the man’s cheek. The power dissipated with a sorry, little pop.
“Be silent, or I will cut out your tongue,” Kaiyr said flatly.
Caineye stopped and stared at the elf for a moment, surprised at the utter calm and sincerity in the blademaster’s voice. “Uh, we shouldn’t need to do that, Master Kaiyr.”
Kaiyr leveled a serious gaze at the druid. “I will not give him another chance to kill us. His life is in his own hands; any consequences that befall him are his own doing.”
The leather-clad human considered the black-robed figure struggling beneath Kaiyr, the blademaster’s knee behind the captured foe’s neck. Then he just shrugged. “I can’t argue with that. What next?”
“I suppose that is up to him,” Kaiyr replied, turning his gaze down to the wizard, who had resorted to thrashing and spitting curses that would have made a dwarven smith blush. Grabbing his enemy by the scruff of the neck, Kaiyr hoisted the man to a sitting position, called in his soulblade, and held its tip near the man’s throat.
“The task I have for you is simple,” the blademaster intoned in his calm but deadly voice. He glanced at the magical energy still flowing up from the ritual and through the ceiling. The woman on the floor above gave a slight whimper and thumped against the floorboards. Turning back to the man, Kaiyr continued, “Release the girl, and I shall not harm you… lest you should betray our mercy.”
The human grinned vilely, and the two companions could see that his teeth had been sharpened to jagged points. “Never! You’ll have to kill me to release her, goody-two-sho—”
“Very well,” Kaiyr interrupted calmly, and with a flash of his soulblade, he sent the man’s head rolling across the floor. Immediately, the dark energy in the room subsided, and the light of the ritual’s candles expanded slightly to give better illumination.
Caineye stared at the headless body. “That was…”
“Necessary,” Kaiyr finished for the druid. “I gave him a chance to redeem himself, and he did not take it. The release of death is more mercy than many would have offered.” He bent over and began inspecting the man’s robes, which still gave off wispy shadows that made the garment difficult to focus upon.
The druid stood, lost in thought for several long moments, before he nodded his head. “I suppose so,” he agreed. Then he paused. “What are you doing?”
Kaiyr stopped rummaging around in the dead man’s pockets and looked up at Caineye. “This man was our enemy. What was his is now ours, and we are beholden to make whatever use we can of these possessions to aid our quest and to better protect those around us.” As he tossed a thick book to the druid, who caught it, the blademaster finished, “It would also be unwise to allow this man’s allies to reclaim this equipment and put it to further despicable use.”
Caineye could find no argument, and he helped Kaiyr gather up any useful supplies they could find. The girl upstairs had fallen into an exhausted but untroubled sleep. Kaiyr, being the stronger of the two, handed the bundle of equipment to the druid before gently lifting the winged girl and carrying her back to their camp.
Wild “looked” up at the approaching footsteps. “Caineye? Master Kaiyr?” he asked tentatively, his hand near his daggers.
Kaiyr set the girl down against one of the rocks. “We are returned, Master Wild. Fear not.”
Wild snorted. “Fear? Fear what?”
*
“Heh, that’s right,” Dingo said, “I’d forgotten Wild is immune to fear.”
“It’s one of the perks,” Matt agreed, stretching in his chair. “Well, I’m blind, so until we can get that fixed, I’m leaving everything to you guys.”
I looked to Dingo. “So, what kind of stuff did the dead wizard have?”
Dingo looked at his sheet. “Okay, well, after sorting everything out, you end up with six hundred gold, his spellbook and components, a potion of… er, a potion.” I nodded, since potions were magical and required identification before use—or at least before safe use. He waited while I scribbled the items onto a list. “You also get his robes, which… Kaiyr, you don’t like the feel of them, and neither do you, Caineye. They feel unnatural, almost corrupt. They seem to be made of shadow, and their form shifts constantly.”
“Eew,” I said, still writing, “We’ll toss those in a trash bag and sell ‘em next time we’re in a big enough city.”
“You also find his staff, which is of a dark wood, and it has a jet gemstone set at the top. Oh, and you find a silver ring with another jet stone, this one inscribed with a sinister-looking rune.” Dingo glanced at his list again and nodded to indicate that he was done.
“Okay, well, everyone’s getting two hundred gold for now,” I said, splitting the six hundred gold three ways. “We’ll have to wait until we can sell the rest before splitting everything else. Unless someone wants to try on the robes of evilness.”
Matt raised his hand. “Wild might like them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Luckily, in a sudden flash of insight, Kaiyr decides not to tell the halfling about it and instructs Caineye in Sylvan to keep his mouth closed on the matter.”
“How about the ring?” Matt asked hopefully.
I pursed my lips before shaking my head. “I think Kaiyr’s going to pocket that for now in one of the hidden pockets in his sleeve. Quietly.” Matt frowned, but I went on, “I don’t think it’d be all that wise to go around with you flashing this ring at anyone who might be watching.”
“Fair enough. What about that potion?”
I shook my head. “Probably the classic potion of jump that we’ll find a million of until we start finding currency in the form of multiple rings of the ram,” I said, referring to a previous D&D game where every other treasure hoard had one of the mostly-useless rings in them. “Plus, neither Kaiyr nor Caineye can cast identify.”
“And I don’t have any Knowledge (arcana),” Xavier added.
I grinned. “There’s always the time-honored taste-test. Who wants to try the potentially poisonous potion?”
“Nice alliteration,” Dingo muttered.
Xavier looked over at me. “Caineye’ll take a sip. I take it from Kaiyr and touch it to my tongue.”
Dingo’s eyes widened. “Okay. Make me a Fortitude save.” Xavier picked up his die to roll, but the DM waved his hand. “No dice, man. I’m just kidding. Anyway, you touch the surface of the liquid with your tongue. For a moment, nothing happens, until you realize that the lights and colors around you seem to be brighter, like someone turned up your eyes’ brightness and contrast. It increases until it almost hurts before subsiding.”
“Eyes,” I muttered as we three players leaned forward to talk about it as a group. “Sounds like it might be a potion of remove blindness. What do you think, Xavier?”
He nodded. “It could be. It wasn’t poison, at least. You want it, Wild?”
Matt shrugged. “Sure. It couldn’t hurt.”
“It makes sense,” I said, nodding. “If this guy knew what he was dealing with, it’d be sensible to be able to keep his eyes. Give it a shot.”
Matt turned to Dingo. “I’ll drink it.”
“All right. Your eyesight comes back. What next?”
“Onward,” I said, looking back at Dingo. “Um, I vote we get at least a little ways away from here before setting up camp. I’m not really in a mood to get stomped and chomped by deinonychus and then killed again by their riders.” Xavier and Matt nodded their agreement. “So we’ll find a better camp, somewhere at least a half-mile away. Can Caineye find us a nice stream so we can wash and refill our waterskins?”
Xavier took up his d20, gave it a roll, and added his Survival skill modifier to it. “Yeah, I found a stream with… a twenty-five.”
*
Kaiyr let out a breath of relief as he carefully laid the winged girl on a patch of soft moss that climbed up an evergreen only a few paces from a small stream of clear water. She was a thin young woman, but the added weight of wings large enough to carry an elf-sized creature through the air turned her into quite a burden.
Caineye pointed at Wild, who had dropped his gear and was already fast asleep. The two waking companions shared a quiet smile. “I’ll find some wood and build a smokeless fire,” the druid said. “Vinto, stay here and guard the camp.”
Vinto’s tongue lolled from his mouth momentarily before he settled in next to Wild, calm but alert. As Kaiyr set about gathering water into an iron pot the three of them shared, Caineye disappeared into the gathering night to find fuel.
“Wh—where am I?” came the winged girl’s tired and bewildered voice.
Kaiyr turned but averted his eyes when the young woman’s form began glowing with an all-too-familiar, dangerous light. “Please,” he said evenly, “you are safe. There is no need to blind us.”