Alchemist
I don't own anything
He still remembered the last time he visited Suzail, the capital of the kingdom of Cormyr. People of all races and social standing moved through the busy streets, bartering in the market for the newest goods that came by ship or road. All under the protection of the Obarskyr dynasty and their honorable knights, the Purple Dragons.
The kingdom fought many a battle against its neighbors, and though it did have its share of victories it survived mostly because the Empire of Netheril and Thay spend more time fighting each other than anything else.
But the peace didn't last...
Now as he walked again through the familiar streets he heard no laughter of children or people chattering in passing...only silence with the occasional noise of the wind howling through the empty streets of the once proud city.
Suzail was dead, Cormyr was dead...
Cedric could only offer a prayer for the souls of the deceased, before he continued to walk towards the Castle Obarskyr, the place where the monster responsible for all this resided.
Lost in though he didn't see an empty bottle on the street, his foot came down and the glass shattered making a loud breaking noise.
A movement from the nearby house made him grab his Lucerne hammer and prepare himself for the inevitable attack.
A trio of zombies walked out and made their way right at him, one female, one male and another one nothing more than a child...all victim's of the plague that reaped over two million lives already.
Cedric didn't lose any time before he brought his polearm down on the first zombies head, crushing it under the impact of the hammer-head, taking one step back he used the hook on the other side of the weapon to trip the next zombie and impale the third one with the spike on the top, before doing the same to the second one that was still lying prone on the ground.
The zombies created by the plague were a bit different from the usually magic animated corpses that necromancers made, they could easily be killed by destroying the head, something a magic animated zombie would be immune to. The other is that their bite spreads the disease that killed and animated the victim's corpse, a disease so potent that not even magical cures had any effect on it.
The zombies couldn't even be turned by the power given to him by the mighty Torm himself.
Seeing as how no more of the mindless things emerged from the nearby houses Cedric resumed his walk to the castle that once housed the kingdom's rulers.
Through the deserted courtyard and halls he moved, making sure to make as little noise as possible, he simply didn't have the time to fight every undead that shambled around.
He didn't need to search for long, Arawn needed access to a laboratory to concoct another one of his deadly substances like he always does, and the best equipped one was in the south tower where the royal warmages once resided.
He heard the familiar ringing of bells far before he saw his opponent.
"Arawn" whispered the paladin as he readied his polearm to strike the madman down, the door to the laboratory was wide open and the enemy had his back turned on him, examining some sort of gnomish contraption.
"Arawn!" shouted Cedric, making the other person turn around from his examination. He could have attacked the criminal while his back was turned, but such an act would be dishonorable.
The bells on the jester's cap rang as the man tilted his head to the side, the man's face hidden by a volto mask.
"Finally we meet again, too long have your crimes gone unpunished."
The masked man said nothing, instead he clapped his hands, making a purple portal appear in the gnomish device behind him.
"NO!" shouted the holy warrior as he rushed the madman, but he was too slow, his opponent jumped into the portal and disappeared from the face of the world.
The paladin dived into the portal without hesitation...Arawn had to be brought to justice for what he did.
Cedric stumbled for a second as he exited the portal in what appeared to be a rocky hillside, looking into the sky he saw that the moon lacked the familiar asteroid field making it clear that he was not on Toril anymore.
So the portal went of world mused the paladin as he stated to walk in a random direction, the moon illuminating the world around him.
He didn't get far before he heard the sound of steel exiting a scabbard, from a bulge on the ground a person rose up.
Cedric glanced at the other two similar formations and noticed that he mistook people sleeping on the ground as rock formations.
"Hold" said the first person, a blond woman armed with a sword in her right hand. Her face was bruised and she was obviously not in the best shape "what are you doing in our camp?" she asked irritably.
"My apology, I wasn't aware that people slept here, to me you looked like simple rocks" explained the holy warrior.
The woman watched the armored newcomer warily "That was the idea...are you also going towards the Bloody Gate?"
Cedric shook his head "No, I was in pursuit of a dangerous criminal and managed to get myself lost" the chances of finding Arawn at night weren't the best, and there was no guaranty he even landed anywhere nearby.
The woman nodded and lowered her sword "I'm Brienne of Tarth" then pointed at the boy "and this is Podrick Payne my squire, and you ser?"
Lowering his pole-hammer the holy warrior bowed lightly "Cedric Dufour, paladin in service of Torm the Loyal Fury."
The conversation would have continued if not for a pained moan coming from the ground. Brienne went to the heavily injured man and tried to make his rest as comfortable as possible...though still kept a wary eye on the armored stranger.
Cedric knelled before the man and examined the wounds "These injuries are severe, and he is suffering from a fever, what happened to the man."
"We dueled" explained Brienne "if that could be called a duel."
The paladin nodded and placed his hand on the man's chest, using his Torm given powers he channeled healing energies at the man with the scared face, the wounds instantly closed up and the fever diminishing somewhat.
Brienne watched in shock as the golden glow surrounded the Hound, making the man's injuries disappear "By the Seven what was that?!" asked the shocked woman.
"A power bestowed upon me by Torm, It allows me to heal a person from some of his wounds...though the burns are too old and wouldn't be affected by it" explained Cedric as he turned to her "If you allow me, I can heal your injuries as well."
Brienne though for a second she then nodded her head in consent, Cedric raised his hand and the golden light engulfed her making the pain from the fight disappear.
"How is this possible?" asked Podrick.
"Magic."
"But magic doesn't exist...does it?"
Cedric raised an eyebrow at the boy "And how then do you explain this?"
Podrick lowered his head and remained silent.
"My thanks for you help" said the woman "Is there any way we can repay your kindness?"
Cedric was inclined to say no but changed his mind "I'm new to these lands, any information you can tell me would be helpful."
"As you wish" said the woman as she again turned to the boy "Podrick make a fire."
"What if someone sees it?" said the squire.
"We are to close to the Bloody Gate and the knights of the Vale, I doubt that any brigands would be anywhere near here."
The squire nodded and proceeded to make the camp fire and something to eat.
While the Hound finally slept peacefully, Cedric, Brienne and her squire Podrick sat around the newly made campfire with Brienne explaining things about Westeros, the civil war...both civil wars, the Targaryens, economy, codes of conduct and so on.
"And east of the Free Cities is the Dothraki Sea, its rulers are the savage tribes of horseman who raid or extort their neighbors since they have no functional economy of their own" said the woman as she polished her sword.
"I take it they are horse archers mostly?" asked Cedric.
"Yes, you heard of them?"
"No, they remind me of the Tuigan, a people who seem similar...though the Dothraki seem even more primitive and savage. Did the Dothraki ever invade these lands?"
"No. They have never crossed the Narrow Sea, excellent horseman they are but have no skills in either sailing or ship building, also because horses cant drink sea water they keep away from it as far as possible. Have your lands fought the Tuigan?"
Cedric nodded "Under Yamun Khahan hundred thousand Tuigan invaded Faerun but were repulsed by King Azoun IV. of Cormyr and his allies. Light cavalry is a better strategic tool than a tactical one, as soon as the Tuigan decided on a pitched battle they lost" Cedric took his lucerne hammer and showed it to Brienne "animals aren't foolish, no horse would charge two or more lines of pointy polearms, if the army is formed in smaller squares the animal will bypass the obstacle rather than crash in it, making cavalry charges difficult."
"What about arrows? Or a charge by heavy cavalry with lances?" asked Podrick.
"If you have plate armored infantry with steel arbalests behind the first lines of armored polearms, then even a cavalry charge can be broken. As for arrows the Tuigan loses were disastrous when they tried to match their shortbows against the soldiers using the already mentioned methods. Then again there exists no perfect or ultimate weapon or tactic, the best you can hope for is having a remotely competent leader that can adapt on the fly. Some would say that speed is the key to victory, but I have seen battles where defense worked better and vice-verse, because of that a military should have branches from the fast scouts and raiders to the slow but well armored infantry that can fight in circumstances where speed is of little value, like cities, dense forests and such. The big exception is swamps, there both speed and heavy armor are disadvantaged and it is best suited for stealth."
Brienne nodded as she examined the pole-hammer "The hook on the back would make dismounting and tripping cavalry and infantry easy, the hammer-head would be as lethal to plated as well as unprotected skin and the pike on top even more so...a well rounded weapon with good reach though not as long as a lance or a proper longspear. But as you said armor and crossbows would take out a lot of impact from the charge. If by some chance you had to fight a Dothraki horde forty thousand strong how would you do it and what would be the minimum of soldiers you would need?"
Cedric though about it carefully "IF I had well-disciplined soldiers that wouldn't break rank, equipped with polearms, arbalests and all in the best steel plate I could find...then two thousand, with minimal casualties mostly from a few lucky arrows that would go through a hole in a helmet's visor, though that can be rectified by having better designed helmets. That is if they engage in open combat, if their commander is smart he would avoid it, in that case the whole thing would be pointless. A better solution would be to train your own horse archers, but instead of bows to have them use steel arbalests which can have the same range or a bit more than a longbow, but are easier to use though not as fast. Simply have them conduct hit and run attacks on the enemy and retreat before their shortbows come in range, it's not the fastest way but the attrition will make the Dothraki lose in the end with little to no military casualties to your army."
"The horselords would have burned half the Seven Kingdoms by then" said the displeased woman.
"True...well, the mounted crossbows could be used to lure the Dothraki in a forest where simple peasants can take them down in an ambush. Have people with bows and nets surprise them and the light horse will fall quickly. Ambushes were always the bane of speed oriented armies."
Brienne sighed, all that required a well-disciplined army, not prideful lords that had trouble listening to orders...and no professional standing army functions without a strong taxing system and a full treasury, that would mean cutting in the wealth of every lord from Dorn to the Wall...something that the nobles would see as unacceptable "So tell me about this criminal you are pursuing? What is his crime?"
Cedric scowled "He is a mass murderer guilty of killing two million people."
Both Brienne and Podrick were surprised by the answer.
"How can a single person murder so many?"
"Arawn Ordos is an alchemist, he doesn't need an army to destroy a kingdom."
"I still don't understand, did he use some magic? Wildfire?" asked Brienne.
"Wildfire? You mean Alchemist Fire? Arawn knows how to make it, normally he has a few vials on him all the time. If he is forced to fight someone honorably face to face he will throw it at his opponent or opponents and burn them alive. But I digress, no he did not use Wildfire, he used plagues...The man is a scholar, merchant, thief...he has no stomach for a fair fight. He prefers to deal with opponents indirectly through the use of explosives, poisons, traps, diseases...whatever gets the job done while he hides in the shadows."
"So he's an assassin?" asked Podrick.
Cedric grunted "Assassins get paid. He kills because of fanaticism. You see, he's a worshiper of the goddess Talona, the Lady of Poison and Mother of all Plagues, by spreading disease and poison he thinks he is worshiping her...and he is probably right in that assumption."
"Arawn can't be allowed to roam your Seven Kingdoms" said the paladin with conviction "if he finds time to make or occupy someones laboratory this world is lost. No hero, army or dragon will be able to save you, his pestilence will reap every single living thing as fast as the wind moves."
Brienne remained silent as she struggled with herself "I'm on a quest of finding two girls from a noble house...but if this threat is as dangerous as you say, then I will do all in my power to help you, even..." she hesitated "even if I have to break my oath" it wasn't easy to make that decision, but even if her name would be cursed like that of the Kingslayer...she will do it for the good of the people. "We will escort you to the Bloody Gate tomorrow, there we can get horses and the people of the Vale can be warned about the mad alchemist."
When the morning came Brienne, Podrick and the Hound ate a meager meal before they were ready to move. Cedric refused to eat saying he was not hungry and took the time to explain his quest to the now healthy Sandor Clegane...the man's expression turned into a grimace when he explained how they were hunting an alchemist with all manner of combustible chemicals. The Hound had no desire to participate in helping out the foreign man in his hunt so he went his own way.
The trio arrived at their location the next day, the Bloody Gate marking the entrance to the heart of the Vale, with a formidable castle visible in the distance behind it.
"Where are the guards?" asked Podrick as he watched their surroundings "there should be archers watching the mountain road."
Brienne and Cedric didn't say anything as they walked forward. Then they spotted someone on the ground.
The two carefully walked forward before Cedric raised his hand "Wait here..." Brienne wanted to protest but complied to the holy warrior's command.
The paladin came closer and saw that the archer was dead, the man's running nose and constricted pupils answering a few of the questions. He carefully returned back to Brienne and Podrick.
"The man was killed by sarin gas, Arawn passed through the gates though I don't know how long ago."
"Then we have to hurry" said the woman firmly.
"Yes, but we can't go through the gate, the structure and the road behind it are certainly still contaminated with the gas...we have to climb the cliffs and go over the path."
Brienne obviously wasn't happy with the answer "What kind of weapon is sarin gas anyway?"
"One of the many chemicals Arawn can make, a weapon of mass destruction" said the paladin somberly "I highly doubt that any of the men garrisoned here survived, they probably died in minutes without knowing what was happening since the gas has no color or odor."
Podrick shuddered "Its worse than the Battle of Blackwater...I never knew alchemist can be so dangerous..."
"Believe me they are, even one can change a tide of war making numbers and tactics meaningless. Sarin gas, mustard gas, alchemist fire, all kind of acids in vials or pots thrown by hand or trebuchet...give them a bit of time and they can inflict damage like no other."
"How did he learn all this?"
"Arawn was a poor child than was taken in by the local thieves guild, as he advanced in their ranks he befriended their guild's wizard who knew a lot about alchemy from making healing salves and deadly poisons. Arawn was fascinated by it and became something of an apprentice to the man, that continued until we stormed the guild and imprisoned or killed most of them."
"Except Arawn?" questioned the squire.
"Except Arawn. He managed to get away and thanks to the knowledge gained by working with the thieves stared a honest business. He made healing salves, pills against pregnancies, salves against cold or rust and more. All were easy to make and sold nicely. In time he expanded his business in other branches, mostly trade. He was very well versed about haggling since he spend a lot of time extorting merchant for the guild. After few years he was one of the richest people in Cormyr even buying himself a noble title.
He was powerful and wealthy but nobody respected him because of his lowly birth. Arawn mixed drugs in the meals of his soldiers making them addicts so they remained loyal to him. He also employed spies and assassins often, instead of fighting battles he preferred to eliminate the enemy leadership. His favorite tactic was finding turncoats that would sell out their own. He would give them a bottle of poison or even disease and one antidote. They had to smuggle it inside their own camp and release it, if everything went as planed the turncoat with the antidote survives while everything else dies from rats to dragons...then the traitor gets his gold. Naturally people discovered that much later, then it was already to late."
"Did he really pay them?" asked Podrick "I'm mean the turncoats..."
"Reputation for keeping promises is important, even if it was from a mysterious figure lurking in the night. Everyone knew that the gold was guaranteed no strings attached if they did that one thing..."
"So what happened to make him like this?"
"Some say that he encountered Cyric and the meeting with the Mad God turned him insane, the others claim he was instructed by Talona herself to spread death, a few even think his own chemicals muddled his mind...nobody knows for certain" said the paladin as he checked the rocks for a safe footing before he started to climb.
The way to the Eyrie was even more difficult than it would be if they followed directly the road. As the path climbed higher and became narrower the chances of the gas reaching them diminished, though Cedric cautioned them to be alert for traps.
One such trap was a vial of Alchemists Fire hidden under a rock, if by some chance someone stepped on the rock and broke the vial the substance would have burned them all in a horrible fireball. Though it also eased Cedric's mind a bit, every vial that the madman used was one less he had for later...that and the knowledge that he had no smokepowder to make any grenades and mines.
Finally after too much climbing the narrow, snake-like paths around the mountains did they reach the Eyrie, an impregnable fortress...at least that's what people said, but from the opened gates it was obvious that the castle was already breached.
The trio moved forward and again saw dead guardsmen on the ground.
"Sarin gas again?" asked the woman.
Cedric shook his head as he approached "The men have their necks cut, he either assassinated them by ambush or he used sleeping powder to disabled them and cut their throats while unconscious."
It was in that moment that the sound of bells could be heard.
The trio readied their weapons.
"Come out Arawn, you have nowhere to run!" shouted the paladin.
The bells came closer and from the gatehouse the familiar jester appeared, the bells on his cap ringing with every step...then they heard something else.
Boots hitting stone...a lot of boots.
Behind him men started to walk out...or rather what once were men.
The zombies shambled forward against the trio.
"By the Seven!" gasped Brienne as Podrick took a step back.
"Aim for their heads and don't let them bite you!" shouted Cedric as he charged the first line of zombies, smashing their heads in.
Brienne and Podrick followed as the holy warrior said, and started to cut down the undead as they came.
Arawn pulled a syringe with a green liquid and bent down to the two dead guards, after injecting them with the substance the two dead soldiers rose as two more zombies.
"Those things wont protect you from me!" shouted the paladin as he broke through the zombie horde and charged at the alchemist.
Arawn dropped the tool and pulled out his drow hand-crossbow. With a steady hand the bolt went flying and collided with Cedric's chest plate. But that was no ordinary crossbow bolt, though small it had a hollowed out compartment instead of a pointy tip. In there was a small quantity of a chemical substance, the moment the bolt hit the oil exploded.
Brienne and Podrick were thrown back as were Arawn and his remaining zombies.
Brienne shakily stood up and watched the destruction from one single tiny projectile, from the dozens of zombies she was battling only two remained in tact. With precise sword swings the zombies heads went rolling over the nearby cliff edge.
Then she saw Cedric...or what she thought was Cedric.
It had his face..at least half of the face, but the man's chest was one gaping hole, and instead of blood and organs all she saw were strange metallic parts, gears, wires and cylinders.
As she was staring in the dead eyes of the...machine? that was motionlessly laying on the ground she was pushed aside by Podrick before two poisoned daggers could hit her.
Brienne regained her wits and charged the jester that pulled out another dagger and dodged her swing, but couldn't do anything beside evading the longer weapon.
She was about to stab the murderer when he blew some powder at her. As soon as the substance entered her lungs she felt tired...then unconsciousness took her.
Podrick watched in terror as Brienne collapsed in front of the jester, he didn't know what he used against her but he had to do something...and do it fast since the jester brandished his knife and went for the prone woman.
It happened almost in slow motion for him, as Arawn was kneeling down he was picking up Cedric's lucerne hammer and as the jester grabbed Brienne's hair to raise her head and expose the neck so did Podrick push the spear like tip on the polearm in the jesters back.
Arawn's shrieke made the squire drop the weapon, and soil his pants...so unnatural it was. The jester released Brienne's head as he grabbed for the polearm that was still stuck in his back, the woman's head hitting the rocky ground not to gently.
With one hand the polearm was pulled out of the jesters torso, before being thrown over the cliff.
"I..impossible..." gasped the boy as he took a step back before the advancing...something, for no normal person could survive a wound like that.
The jester's bells rang with every step he made, then Arawn's head rolled down his shoulder and fell down the cliff.
Behind the decapitated body stood Brienne, blood staining her head from the impact but still alive, Oathkeeper in her hands.
"Its over" she gasped and pushed the body down, to follow the severed head in the free fall.
"I-I thought...thank you..." gasped the boy without really knowing what to say first.
Brienne nodded before she knelt down to examine Cedric's body in detail, her gauntlet poking the gears.
"Is he...dead?" asked the boy.
"I don't think he was ever alive" said the astonished woman.
"...what should we do now?"
"Honestly I don't know...I doubt that a smith or maester could fix this...perhaps the best thing to do would be a grave."
Podrick nodded and went to find a nice place immediately.
Brienne took this opportunity to say a prayer to the Seven for Cedric, she didn't know him for long but he proven himself an honorable man.
"Rest in peace."
END
A/N: I was inspired to write this story by "The fires of war and the ice that follows" from Dragon89. At first I wanted to use a chemist/alchemist as a main character but it quickly became apparent that chemistry (and alchemy even more) was too powerful for any reasonable story. The moment a character in his basement can make a WMD its too much.
If the Starks had a few alchemist of their own to make gold, wildfire and other concoctions they wouldn't have lost the war, but then again honor before reason is their trademark. That battle against Tywin that Robb avoided could have been a disaster for the Lannisters if one side had pots with wildfire or even a suicide commando that would run in the enemy lines in exchange for gold, lands whatever would make their families better off.
An example of this would be the Naffatun from Medieval 2: Total War, those guys could really burn down a mass of enemy soldiers and halt a charge.