Meet more party members in this chaper!
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"I am sorry, but I cannot be held responsible for a youth on my journey. There is to much danger involved already, and I cant guarentee the safety of anyone."
The youth looked down at the book he had laid on the table, his eyes holding back a rain of tears. Sethor rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering where the childs parents were.
"But I am a good mage! My master told me last week that I am capable of living on my own and that my magic was formidable. Please take me along sir, please!"
"You are whining, oh powerful mage. I have no need of a mewling child where I am going, especially one that whines. Now leave me be so I may pack up and be ready to leave this hellhole by morning."
The youth stood up, his chin raised in the air, a pouting expression on his face. He picked up his book and walked to the door, back straight and with long, angry strides. He stopped at the door, and looked over his shoulder momentarily.
"I think I shall leave you with a gift, you bastard."
The young mage started to weave the spell, hands moving back and forth in a rythmic motion. He opened his mouth to begin the quick incantation to release the energy.
"NO"
Sethors entwined his yell with the counterspell prepared while the youths back was turned. The youth lost his concentration and was flung backwards through the door by the force of the energy released by the incomplete spell. Sethor could hear the youth break down and cry, running down the hallways, down the stairs. The tavern occupants down below did not take pity on the child, the sounds of laughter started when the youth reached the floor and died down long after Sethor supposed the youth had left. He hated to do this to the boy, but there was no other choice. The mercenaries in this town were of a poor sort, none of them could even hold a sword straight. Sethor shook his head at the child, who probably WAS formidable; at least in these backwaters.
Sethor concentrated on the candle in the center of the table, and sighed. At one point he had been that young, but that was long ago. Had it been different circumstances, he could have been that youth clamoring to go on his first adventure. But that was long ago, and a youth was not what he needed for this journey.
"I thought bards were supposed to be Charismatic? That was almost downright cruel."
Sethor looked up, and chided himself for once again losing himself to his remorse. In front of the broken door stood a heavyset human and a wiry gnome, each one wearing plain traveling clothes.
"We are when we have things going our way. There are only so many ways of telling a town of commoners that 'Sorry, you are to weak to come with me in my jounrey.'"
"Well than, since we are travelers here, much like yourself, I hope you will tell us something slightly different."
"Please sit down then."
The heavier human sat down in the chair, the gnome stood slightly to the side. Sethor took a quick appraisal of the two. The Heavier man was obviously wealthy, as the cloak he wore was made of Pegasus hair; and as he spoke he moved his hands very nimbly. Stealing another glance at the hands Sethor could see callouses across the fingertips of each one, and several parts of the hand were slightly discolored. This man worked with poison.
When Sethor tried to take a quick glance at the gnome he was met with a powerful stare from powerful brown eyes. He quickly returned his attention to the heavier man.
"Anyways, my associate and I were at the Wanderers Inn where you put up that mercenaries wanted sign, and decided to follow you. We figured you would be wanting cheap mercenaries who dont draw attention to themselves since you're going through this backwater town."
"Actually Im heading towards Gilleston port, which requires me to go through these backwater towns, but I still require cheap mercenaries who dont draw attention to themselves."
The human and the gnome looked at each other. The gnome nodded his head and the heavier set mans face lit up.
"We were heading in that direction anyways. While we arent the cheapest mercenaries, we will be happy for the company on the way over there, and travel is safest in numbers." The heavy set man reached out his hand across the table. "My name is Relevon and this is my traveling companion, the monk Striosis. Shall we go onwards towards Gilleston together than, if nothing else?"
Sethor took the hand and shaked it.
"If nothing else."
After some money exchanged hands the two mercenaries left the room, stepping through the gaping hole in the door. Sethor grinned in spite of his earlier dissapointment.
"At least the journey over will be interesting."
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"Are you sure this is the way to go?"
The other rogue nodded. The forest surrounded them on all sides, and Gilleston port wasn't far. The rogues used the port to sell all their goods, and the Dwarven counsel who ran the port never asked questions. Gilleston was the main port that shipped supplies to and from the Dwarven mines in the distant mountains, and they didnt need the trouble.
The rogues were lost however.
"Seriously Kyle, I think we are lost, are you sure you know where we are going?"
No answer. Pesos looked around.
"Kyle you fool, where did you go?"
One of the prisoners in the back of the wagon screamed.
"Shut up back there, you're creeping me out. KYLE!!!"
No answer.
Pesos realized that there was complete silence. Not even the insects made any noise.
"KYLLLEE!"
"I dont think he is going to answer you."
Pesos turned around just in time to see a stave slam right into his stomach. He doubled over, pain shooting from one end of his body to the other. The stave would not detach itself from him, as the shark scales that covered it ripped deeper into his flesh. He looked up to see a bandaged hand reach out from a robed creature, and lightly touch him. The creature took the stave and ripped it out of Pesos's stomach, leaving a large, angry looking tear across his abdomen. The blood around the wound began to suddenly dry. Then the skin around the wound. Pesos could see his insides drying out and turning to dust.
Later, whtat remained of Pesos was picked up by a light breeze, and drifted across the forest floor. The cart full of prisoners was nowhere to be seen.
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"I am sorry, but I cannot be held responsible for a youth on my journey. There is to much danger involved already, and I cant guarentee the safety of anyone."
The youth looked down at the book he had laid on the table, his eyes holding back a rain of tears. Sethor rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering where the childs parents were.
"But I am a good mage! My master told me last week that I am capable of living on my own and that my magic was formidable. Please take me along sir, please!"
"You are whining, oh powerful mage. I have no need of a mewling child where I am going, especially one that whines. Now leave me be so I may pack up and be ready to leave this hellhole by morning."
The youth stood up, his chin raised in the air, a pouting expression on his face. He picked up his book and walked to the door, back straight and with long, angry strides. He stopped at the door, and looked over his shoulder momentarily.
"I think I shall leave you with a gift, you bastard."
The young mage started to weave the spell, hands moving back and forth in a rythmic motion. He opened his mouth to begin the quick incantation to release the energy.
"NO"
Sethors entwined his yell with the counterspell prepared while the youths back was turned. The youth lost his concentration and was flung backwards through the door by the force of the energy released by the incomplete spell. Sethor could hear the youth break down and cry, running down the hallways, down the stairs. The tavern occupants down below did not take pity on the child, the sounds of laughter started when the youth reached the floor and died down long after Sethor supposed the youth had left. He hated to do this to the boy, but there was no other choice. The mercenaries in this town were of a poor sort, none of them could even hold a sword straight. Sethor shook his head at the child, who probably WAS formidable; at least in these backwaters.
Sethor concentrated on the candle in the center of the table, and sighed. At one point he had been that young, but that was long ago. Had it been different circumstances, he could have been that youth clamoring to go on his first adventure. But that was long ago, and a youth was not what he needed for this journey.
"I thought bards were supposed to be Charismatic? That was almost downright cruel."
Sethor looked up, and chided himself for once again losing himself to his remorse. In front of the broken door stood a heavyset human and a wiry gnome, each one wearing plain traveling clothes.
"We are when we have things going our way. There are only so many ways of telling a town of commoners that 'Sorry, you are to weak to come with me in my jounrey.'"
"Well than, since we are travelers here, much like yourself, I hope you will tell us something slightly different."
"Please sit down then."
The heavier human sat down in the chair, the gnome stood slightly to the side. Sethor took a quick appraisal of the two. The Heavier man was obviously wealthy, as the cloak he wore was made of Pegasus hair; and as he spoke he moved his hands very nimbly. Stealing another glance at the hands Sethor could see callouses across the fingertips of each one, and several parts of the hand were slightly discolored. This man worked with poison.
When Sethor tried to take a quick glance at the gnome he was met with a powerful stare from powerful brown eyes. He quickly returned his attention to the heavier man.
"Anyways, my associate and I were at the Wanderers Inn where you put up that mercenaries wanted sign, and decided to follow you. We figured you would be wanting cheap mercenaries who dont draw attention to themselves since you're going through this backwater town."
"Actually Im heading towards Gilleston port, which requires me to go through these backwater towns, but I still require cheap mercenaries who dont draw attention to themselves."
The human and the gnome looked at each other. The gnome nodded his head and the heavier set mans face lit up.
"We were heading in that direction anyways. While we arent the cheapest mercenaries, we will be happy for the company on the way over there, and travel is safest in numbers." The heavy set man reached out his hand across the table. "My name is Relevon and this is my traveling companion, the monk Striosis. Shall we go onwards towards Gilleston together than, if nothing else?"
Sethor took the hand and shaked it.
"If nothing else."
After some money exchanged hands the two mercenaries left the room, stepping through the gaping hole in the door. Sethor grinned in spite of his earlier dissapointment.
"At least the journey over will be interesting."
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"Are you sure this is the way to go?"
The other rogue nodded. The forest surrounded them on all sides, and Gilleston port wasn't far. The rogues used the port to sell all their goods, and the Dwarven counsel who ran the port never asked questions. Gilleston was the main port that shipped supplies to and from the Dwarven mines in the distant mountains, and they didnt need the trouble.
The rogues were lost however.
"Seriously Kyle, I think we are lost, are you sure you know where we are going?"
No answer. Pesos looked around.
"Kyle you fool, where did you go?"
One of the prisoners in the back of the wagon screamed.
"Shut up back there, you're creeping me out. KYLE!!!"
No answer.
Pesos realized that there was complete silence. Not even the insects made any noise.
"KYLLLEE!"
"I dont think he is going to answer you."
Pesos turned around just in time to see a stave slam right into his stomach. He doubled over, pain shooting from one end of his body to the other. The stave would not detach itself from him, as the shark scales that covered it ripped deeper into his flesh. He looked up to see a bandaged hand reach out from a robed creature, and lightly touch him. The creature took the stave and ripped it out of Pesos's stomach, leaving a large, angry looking tear across his abdomen. The blood around the wound began to suddenly dry. Then the skin around the wound. Pesos could see his insides drying out and turning to dust.
Later, whtat remained of Pesos was picked up by a light breeze, and drifted across the forest floor. The cart full of prisoners was nowhere to be seen.