Although she had thought it impossible, the rain was falling even harder as Lsanna sat in the inn room reading a newspaper that she had bought. It mentioned something about the gnolls trying to sneak into the Jaggedpine forest now that it was opening up again. She shuddered as she remembered her ordeal there. If the dog-men wanted in so badly, she didn't pity them should they run into the wild beasts and treants there. She was finishing the last lines of the story as she heard the distant boom of thunder miles off. Lowering the semi-sodden parchment to the bed beside her, she looked worriedly out of the window, scanning the streets for Azrael. Her forest- green eyes could find no sign of him, the only people outside were merchants standing under the tents out in the square, who looked like they were ready to give up for the day.
She ran her hands through her hair, finally dry, and groaned, as she knew the only way she'd find him would be to track him, and that meant going outside. Sighing, she gave up and threw a cloak on and headed out the door, making sure to lock it before she left. She began tracking the paladin the instant she headed out the door, and felt the pull of the human man's presence somewhere off in the direction of the bank. What would he be doing there? she wondered as she hurried off in that direction. She had just cleared the corner near the blacksmith's shop when she saw a large crowd gathered near the bridge across the aqueduct leading to the bank, and her ears picked up excited chatter, the most common words among the babble were, 'amazing' and 'impossible'. Pursing her lips, she jogged up to the crowd and forced her way through to the center, despite oaths, and people grumbling about her being 'a pushy elf'.
In the small space not occupied by the ring of people, Azrael was kneeling upon the ground, holding his chest while a young human woman wearing armor coughed beside him. They had apparently swum up out of the aqueduct, as they were thoroughly soaked to the skin. "What happened?" Lsanna asked an older human man with graying hair behind her. The man responded in a tone of disbelief, "This man just rescued Renara, the daughter of the guild master of the Knights of Thunder from the Bloodsabers down in the sewer all by his lonesome! I've never seen the like!" Bloodsabers? she thought worriedly, for in a flash, she remembered that they were the necromancers and shadow knights worshipping Bertoxxulous in the sewers. In that moment, several armored paladins showed up, among whom was an old man who she assumed was the guild leader and Renara's father.
As Renara stood up and dashed to her father, Lsanna noticed Azrael wasn't getting up. He was still kneeling there on the ground, his chest heaving. He suddenly gave a series of great hacking coughs and he spat blood onto the ground. Alarmed, Lsanna ran to his side and helped him sit up. Though he didn't appear heavily wounded, his face was very pale, and a trickle of blood was still coming out of his mouth. Though she wasn't sure how much good it would do, she began healing him with her magic, such as it was. As she ran out of mana, and sat down to meditate, Azrael coughed once more and gave her a weak grin, and muttered, "It'll take forever that way, you know." "But I want to help," she protested, smiling to encourage him. As she regained full mana and began casting again, the guild leader noticed her attempts to heal the savior of his daughter, and made it irrelevant by having his compatriots heal him themselves.
Although he was now fully healed, Azrael still held his hand to his abdomen, and Lsanna had to help him stand up. As she did so, his hand shifted and she could see that he had been holding a plate closed there, not because he was still wounded. Inside, she could see the glitter of some kind of talisman . . . but before she could inspect it further, Azrael noticed her looking and shut it tightly again. "Just help me back to the inn, will you, please?" he asked, in an exhausted tone. As she helped him walk, supporting him with his arm around her shoulders, he seemed to regain his strength just by walking with her. As they walked, the ranger glanced up at him, and remarked, "That was a very brave thing you did, facing a whole guild by yourself to rescue that woman." "I had . . . help," he told her, though he didn't seem too happy about that fact. Because he didn't seem to want to talk about it, they hobbled along in silence the rest of the way to the room.
Azrael collapsed heavily onto the bed into the room, still breathing heavily. He knew he would be out of action for a while, but not because of any reason the others suspected. Carefully removing his breastplate so that the broken latch stayed closed, he still wondered why he felt sick and weak after using the amulet's power. This was the first time that he had coughed up blood after using it, but then again, he had used more of the power than he wanted to, trying to rescue Renara. He noticed Lsanna gazing at him worriedly, and he smiled to try and comfort her, but the grin came out twisted from the pain still in his chest.
The wood elf was not fooled by his smile; she knew he was still hurting somehow. She then noticed that the shirt he had been wearing under his armor was ripped and torn. "Here, take that off and I'll mend it for you," she told him, reaching over to remove it for him. As she took the hem of the underside of the shirt in her hands, he placed his own right had over hers and muttered, "I can do it myself, don't worry about it." Rolling her eyes, she chuckled and remarked, "Don't try to be tough, I know you're not up to it, stop being such a baby!" She tugged hard and yanked the shirt out of his grip and before he could protest, she had pulled it over his head. She then gasped at what she saw before the paladin could cover his chest. Though she had expected an experienced warrior to have more than a few scars, the massive band of scar tissue over his ribcage shocked her. It looked like he had literally taken an axe to his chest.
"How . . . did that happen?" she whispered, a hand over her mouth in shock. To her surprise, he answered her, albeit in a very bitter tone, "A dragon did that." His eyes were filled with dull anger and hatred, undoubtedly towards the dragons he had hunted, yet there was a touch of sadness there as well. She sat beside him on the bed and placed a hand on his crossed arms, where he had covered the scar. "Is that . . . why you were hurt earlier? Because of your old injury?" The anger faded from his eyes to be replaced by sadness once more. "No . . . " he responded slowly, then, tentatively, he unclasped one of his hands and gently gave hers a squeeze. With one arm still folded over his chest, he reached behind the bed and pulled out a spare shirt and quickly put it on. Lying down on the bed with a groan, he told her softly, as it hurt to breathe, "You'll have to get dinner on your own tonight. I . . . don't feel much like eating."
"All right . . . feel better, ok?" she replied, running her right hand carefully over his shoulder, trying not to hurt him, before leaving, slowly closing the door. It was still too early for the inn to start serving dinner, so she headed back out into the streets, deciding to try one last place to ask questions before eating. She headed further south than she had before, heading along the docks. Looking inside the last gate, she saw a tavern named Fish's Ale, which she hadn't tried before. She stepped inside, ignoring the glare that the bouncer gave her as she lightly shook off the rainwater that had clung to her cloak. The thunder that she had heard earlier was swiftly approaching; she didn't want to be stuck here any longer than necessary.
She repeated her questions to the barkeep, not expecting an answer, but to her surprise, his eyes widened when she described the large barbarian warrior she had traveled with. "Oh yeah . . . " the bearded human man, drying his hands on his apron exclaimed as he thought carefully, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Big fella, right? Bigger'n most barbs, right? Eight feet tall, unless my old lady's a gnoll!" Lsanna nodded excitedly, that described Ursus perfectly, but she had to be sure, prompting, "Are you sure it was him?" The barkeeper chortled, and told her, "Lady, I'd never forget this chap. I was bringing a cask in when I saw him yank a fish out of the water using his teeth . . . with a shark at the other end! Yet he didn't let go, he won that little tug o war, and then ate the poor fish despite it being more ragged than my dishtowel." Lsanna laughed wholeheartedly, remarking, "He's outdone himself this time . . . last time he did that trick, it was with an alligator!" "You don't say . . . " the barkeeper muttered with a smile, as he took and cleaned a glass from a patron.
As a boom of thunder sounded not far away, Lsanna asked hurriedly, "Did he say where he was going?" This puzzled the barkeeper, and for a moment, the wood elven woman was worried that he would have forgotten this more insignificant detail. But the barkeep snapped his fingers and replied, "Yeah, sure 'e did! He and his sister were headin' with their friends back to Freeport, didn't know where they were goin' after that, but that'd be a good place to start looking for 'im! Though it was two years back, you can't avoid going through Freeport if you want to come back to Antonica by boat, or go to Faydwer! I'd ask the port master meself." Lsanna grinned; this was what she had been waiting for. "Thanks very much, sorry I can't stop for a drink, but maybe some other time!" she exclaimed, giving his grizzled cheek a peck before dashing out the door excitedly. "Gee . . ." the barkeep muttered, blushing.
Lsanna found herself almost unable to eat as she ate dinner in the main sitting area inside the inn. She was sure that such a busy city as Freeport would have more news than the more sleepy Qeynos. She was so happy she decided to buy a round for the patrons in the bar, and didn't stop talking with people until she realized it was very late, and excused herself. Once again, as she stepped into the room, Azrael was asleep again, he hadn't moved since she had last saw him. She watched his sides rise and fall with his breath for a while before getting ready for bed herself. It had been an exciting day, but she found herself falling asleep far faster than she had done the night before.
It was around midnight that Azrael opened his eyes. He sat up hesitantly, expecting pain, but was relieved to find that it had been far reduced by his rest. He would still have to take it easy though. He had heard Lsanna talking down in the common room earlier, and now knew that she had found where to go next. He had gotten her started on the path, so she would be fine without him . . . or so he hoped. As he pulled his armor on again, he watched her sleeping contentedly. He felt a pang of regret as he fastened his cloak to his pauldron. He had found himself genuinely growing to like her in the few days they had been together, but she was getting too close, too fast. He hadn't meant for her to see the scar earlier that day, but she was sure to grow more curious as the days went by.
He had been reminded of too much, being in this city. He needed to be alone again . . . someplace where nobody would find him, this time. No one else would have to suffer because of him. Especially not Lsanna, he thought as he walked to the door as silently as he could. As he opened the door a crack, she shifted and sighed, and for a moment, Azrael didn't want to leave at all. But being here, being this close to her . . . Lsanna reminded him too much of HER. No, he had to leave, or else she'd be drawn into his spiral of grief. Taking one last look at the wood elf, he stepped out into the hall, and closed the door behind him. The thunderstorm was raging as he went outside, but he didn't care. If he was struck by lighting, that would be a blessing. Weaving through the dark empty streets, he headed out the city gate and headed north. North sounded good to him, someplace cold...like before.
To be continued . . .
She ran her hands through her hair, finally dry, and groaned, as she knew the only way she'd find him would be to track him, and that meant going outside. Sighing, she gave up and threw a cloak on and headed out the door, making sure to lock it before she left. She began tracking the paladin the instant she headed out the door, and felt the pull of the human man's presence somewhere off in the direction of the bank. What would he be doing there? she wondered as she hurried off in that direction. She had just cleared the corner near the blacksmith's shop when she saw a large crowd gathered near the bridge across the aqueduct leading to the bank, and her ears picked up excited chatter, the most common words among the babble were, 'amazing' and 'impossible'. Pursing her lips, she jogged up to the crowd and forced her way through to the center, despite oaths, and people grumbling about her being 'a pushy elf'.
In the small space not occupied by the ring of people, Azrael was kneeling upon the ground, holding his chest while a young human woman wearing armor coughed beside him. They had apparently swum up out of the aqueduct, as they were thoroughly soaked to the skin. "What happened?" Lsanna asked an older human man with graying hair behind her. The man responded in a tone of disbelief, "This man just rescued Renara, the daughter of the guild master of the Knights of Thunder from the Bloodsabers down in the sewer all by his lonesome! I've never seen the like!" Bloodsabers? she thought worriedly, for in a flash, she remembered that they were the necromancers and shadow knights worshipping Bertoxxulous in the sewers. In that moment, several armored paladins showed up, among whom was an old man who she assumed was the guild leader and Renara's father.
As Renara stood up and dashed to her father, Lsanna noticed Azrael wasn't getting up. He was still kneeling there on the ground, his chest heaving. He suddenly gave a series of great hacking coughs and he spat blood onto the ground. Alarmed, Lsanna ran to his side and helped him sit up. Though he didn't appear heavily wounded, his face was very pale, and a trickle of blood was still coming out of his mouth. Though she wasn't sure how much good it would do, she began healing him with her magic, such as it was. As she ran out of mana, and sat down to meditate, Azrael coughed once more and gave her a weak grin, and muttered, "It'll take forever that way, you know." "But I want to help," she protested, smiling to encourage him. As she regained full mana and began casting again, the guild leader noticed her attempts to heal the savior of his daughter, and made it irrelevant by having his compatriots heal him themselves.
Although he was now fully healed, Azrael still held his hand to his abdomen, and Lsanna had to help him stand up. As she did so, his hand shifted and she could see that he had been holding a plate closed there, not because he was still wounded. Inside, she could see the glitter of some kind of talisman . . . but before she could inspect it further, Azrael noticed her looking and shut it tightly again. "Just help me back to the inn, will you, please?" he asked, in an exhausted tone. As she helped him walk, supporting him with his arm around her shoulders, he seemed to regain his strength just by walking with her. As they walked, the ranger glanced up at him, and remarked, "That was a very brave thing you did, facing a whole guild by yourself to rescue that woman." "I had . . . help," he told her, though he didn't seem too happy about that fact. Because he didn't seem to want to talk about it, they hobbled along in silence the rest of the way to the room.
Azrael collapsed heavily onto the bed into the room, still breathing heavily. He knew he would be out of action for a while, but not because of any reason the others suspected. Carefully removing his breastplate so that the broken latch stayed closed, he still wondered why he felt sick and weak after using the amulet's power. This was the first time that he had coughed up blood after using it, but then again, he had used more of the power than he wanted to, trying to rescue Renara. He noticed Lsanna gazing at him worriedly, and he smiled to try and comfort her, but the grin came out twisted from the pain still in his chest.
The wood elf was not fooled by his smile; she knew he was still hurting somehow. She then noticed that the shirt he had been wearing under his armor was ripped and torn. "Here, take that off and I'll mend it for you," she told him, reaching over to remove it for him. As she took the hem of the underside of the shirt in her hands, he placed his own right had over hers and muttered, "I can do it myself, don't worry about it." Rolling her eyes, she chuckled and remarked, "Don't try to be tough, I know you're not up to it, stop being such a baby!" She tugged hard and yanked the shirt out of his grip and before he could protest, she had pulled it over his head. She then gasped at what she saw before the paladin could cover his chest. Though she had expected an experienced warrior to have more than a few scars, the massive band of scar tissue over his ribcage shocked her. It looked like he had literally taken an axe to his chest.
"How . . . did that happen?" she whispered, a hand over her mouth in shock. To her surprise, he answered her, albeit in a very bitter tone, "A dragon did that." His eyes were filled with dull anger and hatred, undoubtedly towards the dragons he had hunted, yet there was a touch of sadness there as well. She sat beside him on the bed and placed a hand on his crossed arms, where he had covered the scar. "Is that . . . why you were hurt earlier? Because of your old injury?" The anger faded from his eyes to be replaced by sadness once more. "No . . . " he responded slowly, then, tentatively, he unclasped one of his hands and gently gave hers a squeeze. With one arm still folded over his chest, he reached behind the bed and pulled out a spare shirt and quickly put it on. Lying down on the bed with a groan, he told her softly, as it hurt to breathe, "You'll have to get dinner on your own tonight. I . . . don't feel much like eating."
"All right . . . feel better, ok?" she replied, running her right hand carefully over his shoulder, trying not to hurt him, before leaving, slowly closing the door. It was still too early for the inn to start serving dinner, so she headed back out into the streets, deciding to try one last place to ask questions before eating. She headed further south than she had before, heading along the docks. Looking inside the last gate, she saw a tavern named Fish's Ale, which she hadn't tried before. She stepped inside, ignoring the glare that the bouncer gave her as she lightly shook off the rainwater that had clung to her cloak. The thunder that she had heard earlier was swiftly approaching; she didn't want to be stuck here any longer than necessary.
She repeated her questions to the barkeep, not expecting an answer, but to her surprise, his eyes widened when she described the large barbarian warrior she had traveled with. "Oh yeah . . . " the bearded human man, drying his hands on his apron exclaimed as he thought carefully, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Big fella, right? Bigger'n most barbs, right? Eight feet tall, unless my old lady's a gnoll!" Lsanna nodded excitedly, that described Ursus perfectly, but she had to be sure, prompting, "Are you sure it was him?" The barkeeper chortled, and told her, "Lady, I'd never forget this chap. I was bringing a cask in when I saw him yank a fish out of the water using his teeth . . . with a shark at the other end! Yet he didn't let go, he won that little tug o war, and then ate the poor fish despite it being more ragged than my dishtowel." Lsanna laughed wholeheartedly, remarking, "He's outdone himself this time . . . last time he did that trick, it was with an alligator!" "You don't say . . . " the barkeeper muttered with a smile, as he took and cleaned a glass from a patron.
As a boom of thunder sounded not far away, Lsanna asked hurriedly, "Did he say where he was going?" This puzzled the barkeeper, and for a moment, the wood elven woman was worried that he would have forgotten this more insignificant detail. But the barkeep snapped his fingers and replied, "Yeah, sure 'e did! He and his sister were headin' with their friends back to Freeport, didn't know where they were goin' after that, but that'd be a good place to start looking for 'im! Though it was two years back, you can't avoid going through Freeport if you want to come back to Antonica by boat, or go to Faydwer! I'd ask the port master meself." Lsanna grinned; this was what she had been waiting for. "Thanks very much, sorry I can't stop for a drink, but maybe some other time!" she exclaimed, giving his grizzled cheek a peck before dashing out the door excitedly. "Gee . . ." the barkeep muttered, blushing.
Lsanna found herself almost unable to eat as she ate dinner in the main sitting area inside the inn. She was sure that such a busy city as Freeport would have more news than the more sleepy Qeynos. She was so happy she decided to buy a round for the patrons in the bar, and didn't stop talking with people until she realized it was very late, and excused herself. Once again, as she stepped into the room, Azrael was asleep again, he hadn't moved since she had last saw him. She watched his sides rise and fall with his breath for a while before getting ready for bed herself. It had been an exciting day, but she found herself falling asleep far faster than she had done the night before.
It was around midnight that Azrael opened his eyes. He sat up hesitantly, expecting pain, but was relieved to find that it had been far reduced by his rest. He would still have to take it easy though. He had heard Lsanna talking down in the common room earlier, and now knew that she had found where to go next. He had gotten her started on the path, so she would be fine without him . . . or so he hoped. As he pulled his armor on again, he watched her sleeping contentedly. He felt a pang of regret as he fastened his cloak to his pauldron. He had found himself genuinely growing to like her in the few days they had been together, but she was getting too close, too fast. He hadn't meant for her to see the scar earlier that day, but she was sure to grow more curious as the days went by.
He had been reminded of too much, being in this city. He needed to be alone again . . . someplace where nobody would find him, this time. No one else would have to suffer because of him. Especially not Lsanna, he thought as he walked to the door as silently as he could. As he opened the door a crack, she shifted and sighed, and for a moment, Azrael didn't want to leave at all. But being here, being this close to her . . . Lsanna reminded him too much of HER. No, he had to leave, or else she'd be drawn into his spiral of grief. Taking one last look at the wood elf, he stepped out into the hall, and closed the door behind him. The thunderstorm was raging as he went outside, but he didn't care. If he was struck by lighting, that would be a blessing. Weaving through the dark empty streets, he headed out the city gate and headed north. North sounded good to him, someplace cold...like before.
To be continued . . .