How easy it is to make enemies in a place such as Melvaunt. Do a simple deed of justice and for some reason, you are forever marked as a do-gooder; and to many who live there, that makes you trouble. I expected such to happen in time, but not in such a crude form as it did.
We arrived home without trouble from the bandit's camp and presented the fat pig with our trophy. Blackalbuck would say nothing of the object's purpose, claiming not to know. Did he indeed? Or was he simply toying with us? Was this over grown entity of repulsion even capable of such a lie? In the end, I decided it did not matter. If we were to be double-crossed, then it would be met with a swift wrath.
Having no other use for us at the moment, we were sent home. I, however, intended on making a detour. The trip had been more of a trek than I had anticipated, and a bath was the first thing on my mind upon leaving the greasy pig's dwelling. Once finished, the four of us began our journey across town.
All was quiet that night, as it typically was, though a speedy jaunt home was more preferable than a long walk. To that end, we decided to take a more...seedy route. Perhaps not the most intelligent of decisions, I admit, though one that was more preferred given how drunk my dwarven companion had gotten himself. As Halkas walked...or at least attempt to walk...I trudged quietly behind alongside Devoila and Luxa, wishing verily to return to the serene comforts of my cabin aboard the ship.
Had my mind not still been wandering to dwell upon what was to become of the strange green obelisk I had spent our trek home examining, I might have saved us all a bit of grief. A hand reached out from a shadowed alley, immediately gripping the halfling by the throat and pulling her towards it.
I wheeled about at the sudden commotion to see her firmly in the arms of a burly man, his sword pressed against her neck. He was a gruff figure, nothing more than the common street rat. A bandit, likely, given his demand for us to disarm ourselves. Despite his demeanor, however, I felt no need to fear him, and drew my blade, intent on seeing it pierce his heart.
Devoila wrestled with the man, but to no avail. Her small stature did not fare well enough against the lunk's sheer strength, and a small trickle of blood oozed forth from the point where the blade pressed against her neck.
Halkas, still quite drunk, stumbled forward, attempting to parley in the most dwarven of fashions. He edged close enough to grip the man, allowing Devoila to wrestle free, and the dwarf began striking at them with his axe, sending them backing into the alleyway.
There was little room for the rest of us to edge inward, and Silvermane instinctively charged into the gap between, grasping at the man's arms with his jaws. Meanwhile, I quickly made my way over to the wall. If I could not pass by, then I would make my own entrance. I touched the wall, feeling the rough stone against my silken grasp, and whispered a quiet melody I had once learnt from an arachnymph. I then placed another hand upon it, feeling my grip tightening. A foot, then another. Now completely attached to the wall, I began edging my way around it, grasping at it as a spider, and began moving towards the fray.
By now, their morale had fallen to dangerous levels, and it did not take long before they discovered the tide had turned and the balance had shifted out of their favor. They turned to run, bounding as fast as they could through the series of alleyways beyond.
Seeing this, I quickly made my way to the rooftop and began moving to keep up. They did not seem to notice me, which worked to my favor, and after a short jaunt, they stopped, meeting in an alley to speak with another. Apparently they had been sent to bring us to an enchanter, though they were mum on the rest. Clearly we were of some interest to this man; but this interest did not seem a kind one considering the method of contacting us.
As the men left to retreat inside a building, it seemed as though little more would be shed on this event. Perhaps in the morning, I would investigate further...
We arrived home without trouble from the bandit's camp and presented the fat pig with our trophy. Blackalbuck would say nothing of the object's purpose, claiming not to know. Did he indeed? Or was he simply toying with us? Was this over grown entity of repulsion even capable of such a lie? In the end, I decided it did not matter. If we were to be double-crossed, then it would be met with a swift wrath.
Having no other use for us at the moment, we were sent home. I, however, intended on making a detour. The trip had been more of a trek than I had anticipated, and a bath was the first thing on my mind upon leaving the greasy pig's dwelling. Once finished, the four of us began our journey across town.
All was quiet that night, as it typically was, though a speedy jaunt home was more preferable than a long walk. To that end, we decided to take a more...seedy route. Perhaps not the most intelligent of decisions, I admit, though one that was more preferred given how drunk my dwarven companion had gotten himself. As Halkas walked...or at least attempt to walk...I trudged quietly behind alongside Devoila and Luxa, wishing verily to return to the serene comforts of my cabin aboard the ship.
Had my mind not still been wandering to dwell upon what was to become of the strange green obelisk I had spent our trek home examining, I might have saved us all a bit of grief. A hand reached out from a shadowed alley, immediately gripping the halfling by the throat and pulling her towards it.
I wheeled about at the sudden commotion to see her firmly in the arms of a burly man, his sword pressed against her neck. He was a gruff figure, nothing more than the common street rat. A bandit, likely, given his demand for us to disarm ourselves. Despite his demeanor, however, I felt no need to fear him, and drew my blade, intent on seeing it pierce his heart.
Devoila wrestled with the man, but to no avail. Her small stature did not fare well enough against the lunk's sheer strength, and a small trickle of blood oozed forth from the point where the blade pressed against her neck.
Halkas, still quite drunk, stumbled forward, attempting to parley in the most dwarven of fashions. He edged close enough to grip the man, allowing Devoila to wrestle free, and the dwarf began striking at them with his axe, sending them backing into the alleyway.
There was little room for the rest of us to edge inward, and Silvermane instinctively charged into the gap between, grasping at the man's arms with his jaws. Meanwhile, I quickly made my way over to the wall. If I could not pass by, then I would make my own entrance. I touched the wall, feeling the rough stone against my silken grasp, and whispered a quiet melody I had once learnt from an arachnymph. I then placed another hand upon it, feeling my grip tightening. A foot, then another. Now completely attached to the wall, I began edging my way around it, grasping at it as a spider, and began moving towards the fray.
By now, their morale had fallen to dangerous levels, and it did not take long before they discovered the tide had turned and the balance had shifted out of their favor. They turned to run, bounding as fast as they could through the series of alleyways beyond.
Seeing this, I quickly made my way to the rooftop and began moving to keep up. They did not seem to notice me, which worked to my favor, and after a short jaunt, they stopped, meeting in an alley to speak with another. Apparently they had been sent to bring us to an enchanter, though they were mum on the rest. Clearly we were of some interest to this man; but this interest did not seem a kind one considering the method of contacting us.
As the men left to retreat inside a building, it seemed as though little more would be shed on this event. Perhaps in the morning, I would investigate further...
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Posted on April 30, 2011 01:29
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