Chapter 24
Delicately taking hold of the doorknob, Gorion slowly turned it and stepped quietly into his room.
He stopped in the doorway upon seeing the tiny figure lying on one of the two beds. His eyes lingered on its hands and forehead, both now heavily swathed in bandages.
"We did what we could for him," the Oghmite priest behind him whispered. "I...thought it would be best if he were brought here, rather than remain at the clinic."
Gorion did not turn around. "He attacked someone."
The priest sighed. "Yes. One of the nurses. She's alive. And stable. We stopped the bleeding in time." He paused. "This will not stay quiet for long. The Keeper will learn of it sooner or later. If he hasn't already."
Gorion quietly nodded, still keeping his back to the man. "I appreciate it."
A long moment passed in silence save for the little dwarf's soft breathing. "Gorion...one of my people was attacked."
"I cannot tell you what I do not know," the wizard answered, finally turning to face him.
"She almost died today. And the stab wound was surgical, like he was-"
"Nor would I even if I did."
The priest glared at him for a long moment before turning on his heel and stalking away.
Gorion watched him out of sight, then turned back to the small figure in the room. After taking a deep breath, he slowly walked in, closed the door behind him, and sat down on the bed at the dwarf's tiny feet.
Dorean's eyes flicked open, staring at the ceiling. Otherwise, he gave no sign that he had registered Gorion's presence.
A few minutes passed in silence. Then Gorion slowly reached into his rucksack, removed a number of books from it, and placed them carefully next to the dwarf's left foot. He then shifted himself further onto the bed, leaned his head and shoulders against the wall, and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
Ten long minutes went by, neither of them moving, speaking or looking at each other.
Then Dorean slowly sat up, gingerly took hold of the book on top of the stack in his tiny, bandaged hands, and looked at the cover depicting a tall, muscular warrior in leather armour standing protectively in front of a long-haired noblewoman, sword and shield in hand.
After a moment, he opened it and began to read, eyes travelling slowly across the page.
Gorion remained still, keeping his gaze on the ceiling and opposite wall. He hesitated, then slowly placed his hand on the dwarf's leg just in front of his foot and gave it a few gentle pats.
Dorean did not appear to respond to the gesture. However, for just a few seconds, his eyes were still.
He then silently resumed reading.
More minutes went by, the wizard idly resting his hand on the dwarf's leg, before Dorean suddenly spoke.
"They're gonna fall in love, are they?" he said monotonously.
The wizard could not help but smile.
"It gets better."
The little dwarf paused without looking up from the book, then grunted and continued reading.
..
So...I almost died today, was in a bloodbath that will certainly become the talk of the town if it hasn't already, and I am currently in debt to a governor and religious leader who wants us to escort and protect a man targeted for assassination. Dorean lifted his head, taking care not to expose too much of his face beneath his hood, and glanced up at the morning sun. And it's not even noon. He gave a frustrated sigh through his beard.
"We're getting a bit of attention," Imoen said, glancing furtively at the numerous looks from the passing townsfolk.
"Maybe that's why Jessa and the guards left us," Dorean muttered. "Hoping the locals'll tear us apart." He carefully avoided eye contact with a group of particularly hostile-looking peasants. "Stay close."
Imoen glanced over her shoulder at Khalid, who was keeping several paces to Xzar's right along with a close eye. "Think Jaheira will be alright?" she asked quietly.
"She can take care of herself," Dorean answered. "Right now, I'm more worried about us."
"You mean where we're going?" said Imoen, looking ahead where Kagain and a familiar minstrel were leading the group. "Garrick said it shouldn't be too much trouble."
"He offered three hundred with another hundred on top if there is. Something like that, you can almost guarantee there will be." And it may be coming from him, He added to himself, looking at the crossbow on the minstrel's back and the quiver of bolts at his hip. He was waiting for us at the temple entrance.
Imoen hesitated for a moment before patting his shoulder. "It'll turn out alright, little brother. It always does in the end."
Dorean paused as a sneering elderly woman spat on the ground as they passed, then brushed her hand away. "This isn't a story, Imoen," he said gruffly. "And we're not in Candlekeep anymore."
Imoen's gaze lingered on his face before she slowly looked away. "You're right," she said softly. "We're not."
She walked in silence with her gaze pointed at the ground. Dorean looked at her, opened his mouth, then closed it and looked away, angry at both her and himself.
I don't care. I don't. She needs to wake up. we almost got killed back at the inn.
He grimly quickened his pace, moving away from her and closer to Kagain and Garrick
"...mean to impose, but I must insist that we hurry," Garrick was saying. "The men who threatened Mistress Silke might be making their way to the inn this very second."
"I sent some'a my guys over there already, so quit ya worryin' an' stick ta answerin' me. Who an' how many?"
"I...do not know of their numbers," Garrick replied, scratching his chin. "They could be sending one man, or a dozen. Or even a hundred!" He added with wide eyes. Seeing the look Kagain was giving him, the minstrel wisely moved on. "But I believe they were hired by Marcus Feldepost."
"Feldepost? He's settin' people after ya?"
"Yes he is, the villain! Sending thugs to hurt Mistress Rosena for refusing to perform at his inn. One could hardly blame her, given his reputation."
Kagain frowned and stroked his beard, fingering one of its braids. A brief moment passed before he spoke. "This might go easy. I know Feldepost; I can talk ta his guys, straighten this whole thing out."
"Oh, that is such a relief, Sir Kagain!" Garrick exclaimed, causing Dorean to raise an eyebrow. Indeed, he looked immensely relieved at the mercenary's words. "My mistress is a kindly soul; she would never wish violence upon another, even if they seek to harm her."
"Just make sure ya have the money when it's done. An' don't call me 'Sir,' I ain't a soddin' knight."
"Of course, sir-I mean Mister Kagain. I will have your payment ready as soon as you have dealt with Feldepost's men."
"An' one other thing," Kagain added, lifting a warning finger at Garrick. "Keep ya mouth shut about Feldepost; ain't a smart thing ta go around callin' 'im a villain in this town."
Garrick's eyes widened, but not in fear. If anything, he seemed more excited than intimidated.
"A dangerous man, is he?" he said, with an eagerness that made Dorean want to back away. "But..." Garrick sighed. "You are right, Mister Kagain. I will be careful with my words."
"'Course I'm correct," Kagain answered loudly. "An' this other thing with ya mistress, escorting her ta the city; I wanna talk with her on it after we're done with this problem'a yers. Ya make sure an' tell her that."
"Ah, yes, of course, si- Kagain," Garrick answered, correcting himself again. "Better yet, you can speak with her yourself. After you have dealt with Feldepost's thugs, of course."
"Of course," Kagain replied.
"Excuse me," said Dorean, walking up close behind them. "Can I talk to you, Kagain? It will only take a minute. You don't mind, do you, Garrick?"
The older dwarf regarded him quietly for a moment before dropping back beside him. Garrick gave them a curious glance before nodding to Dorean, facing forward again and walking several paces ahead to give them privacy.
"What?" Kagain asked bluntly, keeping his voice low.
"Have you heard anything from the men you sent to the inn?"
"Dunno if ya noticed, nugget, but I had other things on my mind."
Seeing Imoen scowl at Kagain from the corner of his eye, Dorean chose to ignore the slight. "So we don't know if we're walking into an ambush," he whispered.
Kagain fixed him with a piercing, blue-eyed stare, its menace accentuated by his helmet and the drops of blood speckled on his face. "Back out, then. Go to my place an' wait."
Dorean hesitated, returning the dwarf's gaze. He then looked behind him at Imoen, who was now watching them with an inquisitively-tilted head.
"...no. No, I'll stay with you on this."
Kagain snorted. "Got any more questions?"
Dorean shook his head. "Sorry to bother you, Kagain."
He dropped back next to Imoen. The older dwarf glanced at him for another moment before turning away.
Looking down at him, Imoen silently reached over, placed her hand on Dorean's shoulder again, and rubbed it. Dorean sighed, but this time, he did not brush her hand away.
He felt Khalid move up on his other side, and barely stopped himself from flinching when the Calishite imitated Imoen by placing his hand on Dorean's other shoulder. The dwarf looked up at Khalid, forcing a grateful smile onto his face.
Then a third hand came down on Dorean's head, tousling his hair, and he instantly lurched forward and spun around.
Xzar shrank back from him, holding the offending hand to his chest.
For what seemed to be the tenth time since they first met, Khalid's hand was once again on his sword.
Looking at both of them, Imoen took a quick glance at Dorean before turning to Xzar.
"Xzar," she said. "Dorean doesn't like it when people touch his head."
The wizard blinked at her, ignoring Khalid, then, keeping his arm close to his body, he frowned and pointed at Imoen.
"You touch his head all the time."
"Yeah. Well..." Imoen replied, looking down at Dorean. "I'm his big sister, so it's alright for him."
Xzar tilted his head and rubbed his chin, silently contemplating this new piece of information. He then silently walked over, took hold of Imoen's wrist, held up the hand that she had placed on Dorean's shoulder, and stared at it. Imoen, Dorean and Khalid stared back.
"Hey!"
They all jumped and turned around to face Kagain and Garrick about ten paces away.
"Whattaya standin' around for?! We got a job ta do, an' it's urgent! Get a move on, ya mutts!"
"...let's go," said Dorean as they drew more looks from the townsfolk.
They resumed their journey to the Burning Wizard, with Khalid this time placing himself next to Dorean, keeping one eye on the street ahead and another on Xzar behind them; the wizard was still staring at Imoen's right hand.
The dwarf carefully avoided looking behind him at the wizard, instead glancing up at Khalid's face.
I don't know who I'm more afraid of.
A jolt of surprise hit him as another thought flitted through his mind.
I wish Montaron was with us.
..
The crowd that had gathered in front of the Red Sheaf had since been partially dispersed, though there were a significant number of remaining onlookers, town militia and Flaming Fist mercenaries to make Dorean pull his hood further over his face.
To his relief, Garrick and Kagain led them past the Red Sheaf to an adjacent three-story building.
In front of a large signboard depicting a smiling sun on a blue background stood a man and woman, both sporting close-cropped hair styles and wearing the armour and colours of the Dented Shield company. They perked up upon seeing Kagain and moved forward to approach him, the woman leading the way.
"Boss," she said, stopping in front of the dwarf. 'There's been talk going around town about a mutiny in the Sheaf! What-"
With a loud snarl, Kagain reached up and shoved her roughly in the stomach, sending her staggering backwards into her partner. "Shut ya goddamn mouth, Maija! Not one more soddin' word! Am I clear?!" He glared fiercely at all four of them before squaring his shoulders. "Now," he barked. "Report."
The mercenaries looked at one another. Then the woman stepped forward again, her expression now dull and neutral.
"Nothing that looks to be worrying about," she said, her voice just as emotionless. "That scum Zhurlong came in a half-hour ago, but he didn't talk to anyone, no one sat with him or passed him anything."
Kagain gave a grunt. Garrick hesitated, then stepped around to the side and in front of him.
"I'll just go fetch Mistress Silke, shall I?" he said, and with that, the minstrel hopped up the stairs and through the front door of the inn.
He returned less than a minute later with two more Dented Shield mercenaries and a woman dressed in fine, tailored clothing of red silk beneath a long, flowing black cloak. She drew back the hood of her cloak and both Dorean and Imoen simultaneously lifted a respective eyebrow.
The woman was very beautiful, almost arrogantly so, and carried herself in a manner similar to the nobles and scholars who had frequently fallen victim to the Candlekeep duo's thieving activities.
"Gentlemen and lady," Garrick declared, skipping forward to stand in front of her and sweeping a dramatic arm. "May I introduce my mistress; Miss Silke Rosena, thespian extraordinaire and musician without-"
"I know it's her, ya lummox," Kagain interrupted. "Who do ya think I think she is, the soddin' milkmaid?"
Dorean noticed Maija and her partner exchanging looks with the other two mercenaries and rolling their eyes behind their leader's back.
"Ahh," said Silke, her voice appropriately fitting her name. "You must be the mercenaries my little Garrick told me about." She cast an appraising eye over the party. Her eyes lingered on both Dorean and Imoen, and in that brief moment, his left hand instinctively drifted closer to his boot-knife.
Xzar smiled and bowed when Silke looked his way; she blinked at him before quickly looking away and raising an eyebrow at Khalid, who nervously smiled and bowed as well. Dorean and Imoen exchanged looks, the latter barely suppressing a grin.
"Garrick, my dear, how much did you offer these...gentlemen?" Silke asked. Imoen pouted at being included in the last word, then frowned and mouthed the words 'My dear?' to Dorean. He answered with a nudge of his elbow into her thigh, silencing her.
"I offered them three hundred gold, just like you told me," Garrick answered, puffing out his chest proudly.
"He also said there'd be an extra hundred fer takin' care'a any trouble," said Kagain, leaning back and placing his hands on his belt. Silke regarded him with half-lidded eyes.
"He did, didn't he?" She paused. "Very well; should there be 'trouble' sufficient enough to warrant 'taking care of,' I will pay the hundred on top of the three."
Kagain's beard bristled as he frowned up at her. He then gave a curt nod. "Deal."
"Well then," said Silke. "I assume Garrick has explained to you your duties?"
"He explained that Feldepost is sendin' guys ta rough ya up. I assume ya want us ta make sure that doesn't happen."
"Indeed I do," Silke replied, and her voice seemed to break slightly. "Yesterday evening, after I refused the request to perform at his inn, Feldepost sent three of his men to ask the same, only now it was a demand. When I refused again, the beasts told me that Feldepost anticipated my refusal, and instructed them to tell me that I will regret my decision come noon the next day; that they will return here to...to sully my honour." She became quiet for a moment, lowering her gaze and pressing her trembling hands together, before looking back at Kagain. "You must not let them near me."
"Mm," said Kagain. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at both Silke and Garrick, scratching his beard. "An' ya want us ta protect ya until ya reach the city."
"No," Silke replied, her voice and expression turning fierce. "I want you to deal with them."
Kagain's frown deepened. "Ya know what ya askin' us ta do here, Missy?"
"Yes. And the full four hundred will be yours if you do."
Kagain regarded Silke for a long moment before nodding his head. "Alright. But only if they attack us first; there's a strict law in this town."
"I apologize, good dwarf, but I must insist that you act first, and act quickly. One of the three claimed to be a mage whose mystic words can sway even the most wise of men."
"An enchanter?" said Kagain. He frowned and lowered his head, then turned around. "Hey Xzar-"
He stopped and blinked. The wizard had moved away from the party and was now heading towards a line of stalls manned by peddlers and merchants on the side of the street.
The entire group watched in silence as Xzar walked up to one of the peddlers, stared at him until he hurriedly gathered his belongings and ran away, took off his pack, removed and placed various bottles and jars on the vacated stall, tied his hair into a pony-tail with a length of twine, then stood up straight and smiling with his hands on the counter.
"...what is he doing?" said Silke.
A group of curious locals shuffled closer to Xzar's stall, looking over his wares. From far away, the party, Kagain's mercenaries, and the two bards heard the wizard call out to the townsfolk in an accent different from his own.
"Right, folks. Let's sort the buyers from the spyers, the greedy from the needy, an' the ones who trust me from the ones who don't, because if you can't see value here today, you're not up 'ere shoppin'..."
"...he's settin' up a cover," Kagain said eventually. "Making it look like he's just some regular sod."
"But..." Garrick said hesitantly. "He's over there. And we're over here."
He stared at Kagain. Kagain stared at him.
"Well then we move closer," the dwarf answered.
Everyone exchanged looks with everyone before silently moving toward the crowd gathering around Xzar's stall.
"Right, this is far enough," said Kagain once they reached the crowd's edge. "You," he pointed at the two men who had followed Silke and Garrick out of the inn. "Stay with Missus Rosena here. Maija, you an' ya boyfriend set up on the other side'a the street."
Maija nodded stiffly before abruptly walking off towards her designated location with her partner in tow.
No wonder half his men mutinied, Dorean thought, glancing at Kagain. He might be getting deserters if he doesn't start making up to them.
"An' you three," said the mercenary leader. "I want ya ta set up over there." He pointed at the large monument in the centre of the town square. "Stand somewhere we can see ya, ya gonna be our back-up. My boys an' I should be able ta handle this, but if it goes down, get over here quick."
"How would we know if it's going down?" asked Dorean.
"I'll do this," Kagain replied. He then reached up and tapped the side of his helmet twice with his middle and index fingers.
"That's a bit of an obvious signal, ain't it?" said Imoen.
"Oh it is, is it?" Kagain retorted. "Well, let me know when ya've got years-worth'a runnin' a mercenary company an' I'll get back to ya. Now get movin'!"
"What about the civilians?" Khalid said abruptly. Kagain let out an irritable, frustrated growl, but stopped upon seeing the look on his face.
"...we do this right, no one'll get hurt."
Khalid fixed him with a cold look not unlike Jaheira's before he slowly turned towards the Candlekeep roommates.
"Wait, wait, wait a minute," said Kagain, pointing at Dorean and walking towards him. "Where's ya crossbow?"
Dorean grimaced behind his beard. "I lost it in the Sheaf."
"Ya lost it? Whattaya mean ya lost it?!"
Dorean simply stared back at him. Kagain let loose what felt like his twentieth growl of the morning, then took out his own crossbow.
Before Dorean could stop him, the older dwarf tossed him the weapon. He caught it in both arms and immediately staggered backwards, falling flat on his back.
Kagain stared at him for a few seconds. Then, with a loud, anguished snarl, he stomped forward and snatched his crossbow from Dorean's lap.
"Soddin' useless," he muttered, turning away and loudly stomping back to his own men.
Imoen and Khalid both helped Dorean to his feet. The pink-clad girl glared at Kagain's back, then said a very rude word that made Khalid double-take and look at her in surprise.
"Go on ahead with Khalid, little brother," she said grimly, still glaring at Kagain. "I'll ask Xzar to lend you something."
"Right."
Dorean watched her glide through the crowd towards Xzar's stall, then allowed himself to be guided away by Khalid towards the monument.
..
After a few tries, Dorean gave up on wearing Xzar's knife-belt properly and placed it over his shoulder to make an improvised bandolier. Taking out one of the throwing knives, the dwarf turned it over in his hands, examining the blade and handle.
"It l-looks ordinary," said Khalid, glancing down at it. "You can find ones like it a-anywhere."
Taking the knife from Dorean, Imoen examined the weapon as well, tapping the point of the blade with her index finger.
"He's pretty good with these," she commented, handing him back the knife.
"We've only seen him use them twice," Dorean replied, replacing it in the belt as a patrol of town militia passed by them. The duo looked over to where Xzar was still peddling his goods. He had attracted a noticeably larger number of potential customers than most of the other stalls.
"He's a bit strange, isn't he?" said Imoen. Dorean decided not to answer.
"He's a Zhent," said Khalid. "You can never trust them, not for a second."
Those your words, or your wife's? "We'll be careful," said Dorean.
Khalid looked down at him and nodded in approval, then suddenly looked back up.
"That's them."
Dorean followed his gaze and spotted the three men making their way across the town square towards the inn.
Odd. None of them are armed.
"They don't look very scary," said Imoen, tilting her head at the trio's clothes of bright green, red and purple.
Dorean almost said, "That's probably the idea," but stopped himself at the last second, frowning at his own thought. Didn't Silke say that yesterday Feldepost sent them to scare her? These guys aren't intimidating in the slightest.
"Something's wrong," he said, then immediately cursed himself for saying it out loud as Khalid and Imoen looked at him and then back to the three men, their expressions now tensed.
They watched as the Dented Shield mercenaries moved to block their way to Silke, Kagain raising a hand in greeting.
"Stay here," Khalid said. He began moving towards the group.
"Khalid, wait, Kagain hasn't given us the-" Dorean snarled in frustration as the half-elf began pushing and elbowing his way through the crowd. He turned to look at Imoen next to him and saw her step forward.
"Imoen, he said to stay-" Dorean stopped, gave a low, almost dog-like growl, then hurried after her.
Imoen slipped and side-stepped through the crowd, keeping close behind Khalid, while Dorean struggled not to get jostled and kicked by oblivious passers-by. He cursed his own height and stature as he narrowly avoided being hit by a wheelbarrow. He shouted Imoen's name, but his voice was lost in the noise of the street.
Cursing loudly, the dwarf finally reached the edge of a clearing in the crowd and looked upon what promised to be anything but a peaceful scene.
"...ain't muscle, they aren't even armed!" Kagain exclaimed.
"No!" Silke shouted. "It's a trick! You must kill them now, before they strike!"
The alleged thugs were looking around in bewilderment at the mercenaries surrounding them. "K-kill us?! W-w-wha-"
"What are you doing, Silke?!" Garrick cried. "Have you gone mad?!"
"They have bewitched him! My little Garrick!" Silke's voice rose to a shriek. "You must stop them now!"
"Boss?!" The woman Dorean recognized as Maija shouted, her confused expression matching the ones on her fellow mercenaries.
"Hold! Hold it, just watch 'em!" Kagain replied, pointing fiercely at the three brightly-dressed men. He then rounded on and began stomping towards Silke. "Hey, lady, what the hell do ya think ya pulling-"
Silke screamed, her voice piercing the morning air, and raised her arms. Dorean's eyes went wide as white, crackling energy appeared at her hands, billowing her cloak around her.
Shit.
At such close range, she could not miss. The bolt of lightning struck Kagain in the chest. His body went into violent spasms, his hair and beard sticking up on end, before he fell onto his back.
"Sorceress!" Maija yelled, drawing her sword. "Get her now!"
"Our deal is off!" Silke shouted. "I will deal with them myself, after I deal with you!"
With near-simultaneous battle-cries, the four mercenaries ran towards their esrtwhile-client with weapons raised. They managed to get within eight paces before Silke fired a second lightning bolt. All four of them scattered, but it seared a glancing blow on Maija's shoulder, and she hit the ground screaming in agony. There were shrieks and cries as the bolt carried on into the droves of fleeing onlookers.
"Silke, stop-!"
"Out of my way, Garrick!" The thespian yelled, shoving aside the bard as he attempted to block her way to the three 'thugs.'
Then Khalid appeared at the edge of the crowd, racing past the downed mercs and straight at Silke. The thespian's head snapped towards him, and electrical energy gathered around her for the third time.
Just before she fired, Dorean saw it all; Khalid's body instinctively crouching, ready to dodge sideways to avoid the deadly bolt.
And then...he didn't. He simply steeled himself and raised his shield, taking it head-on. It coursed through the metal and into his arm. The half-elf's body went into rigid spasms before he fell onto his side.
His words to Kagain echoed briefly in Dorean's word. What about the civilians?
Fool, He thought viciously. Now who's going to stop her?
As Silke moved towards the three cowering men, one of them panicked and turned to run. The thespian promptly raised one hand, and four bright missiles of a pinkish hue slammed into his back, killing him instantly.
The remaining two men fell to their knees. The one nearest to Silke held out a large pouch.
"Here! Take them, just don't kill us! Please!"
Standing just behind the first line of spectators who had either chosen to stay or could not tear themselves away from the scene, Dorean's expression went grim as he looked on.
Not me. This isn't worth dying over.
"SILKE!"
Eyes snapped towards Garrick, aiming his crossbow at her.
"That's enough! You will harm no one else this day!"
Dorean stared incredulously at him. This day?! What in the hells are you saying?!
Silke hesitated, then spread her arms wide as though to invite a hug. "My little Garrick...surely you will not do such a thing to your mistress?"
"...surrender yourself, Silke, and I won't have to."
What are you doing?! Just shoot her! Dorean silently urged. He looked over at Silke; her face was no longer remotely beautiful to him. An ugly sneer laced her features as she regarded her fellow minstrel.
"Your snivelling altruism has always made me sick, Garrick."
"Get on the ground and place your hands flat, palms down," Garrick ordered.
Instead of obeying him, the thespian slowly raised her hands again.
"Silke!" Garrick shouted, tightening his grip on the bow and pressing his eye to the sight. "Don't! Don't do it or I swear I will-!"
Her hands moved. Garrick fired.
Silke disappeared, and the bolt flew past where she had been, embedding itself in the wall of the inn.
Staggering backwards and dropping his crossbow, Garrick raised his own hands. He appeared to spot something, and yelled, "She's cast Invisibili-"
He saw the build-up of bright pinkish-white, and finished casting his own spell just as the flurry of Magic Missiles struck and hurled him to the ground.
A barely discernable, life-sized image of Silke appeared, flickering in and out of focus. It appeared to look down at Garrick's collapsed form, then turned back to the two remaining thugs. They wept and sobbed as she approached, begging for mercy.
This is not my fight, Dorean thought grimly, ignoring the pleading men and looking up at Silke. I have to-
Off to his right, he spotted a figure dressed in a brown leather gambeson over pink clothing, pushing her way through the crowd and aiming her bow.
"Imoen, no-!"
The arrow sped through the air, halting suddenly in mid-flight, and there was a loud shriek as Silke reappeared, clawing at the arrow in her left shoulder.
"How dare you attack me-!"
With a howl of pain and rage, she violently wrenched the arrow out. Blood sprayed as Silke tossed it aside, turning to face her assailant.
Time slowed. The world turned gray. All sound was muted save for Dorean's slow, thunderous heartbeat.
He saw Imoen panic, fumbling for a second arrow and dropping it. Saw the deadly, blazing-white energy build up around Silke's hands yet again.
Dorean's mind went blank. His feet moved of their own accord, shoving aside the two spectators in his way.
He threw himself into Imoen's stomach, tackling her to the ground just as Silke let loose another lightning bolt.
Something hit him directly in the side, and he immediately blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, the world had become a blur of noise and swirling colours.
He heard a voice distinctly similar to Imoen's, crying out something resembling his name. Hands reached out to grasp him even as his own body kept her legs pinned.
He wanted to move, to roll off her. But aside from his eye-lids, everything refused to respond.
Imoen's struggling rolled him onto his back. He saw Silke standing over them, blood running down her arm. Her head blocked out the sun, shrouding her face in shadow.
Lightning crackled once again in her hands, illuminating her face. Her eyes were wide, almost bugging out of their sockets, and her lips were curled into a cruel sneer.
His left hand was now resting on the belt of throwing knives across his chest, but he could not move even a finger.
Silke raised her arms up high, like a warrior about to deliver a killing stroke.
In that instant, for just a nano-second, something flashed across Dorean's eyes.
An image of a woman, her face indistinguishable, dressed in a hooded black robe, her arms raised in a near-exact pose of Silke's, lightning crackling at her fingers.
Dorean blinked, and the image fled.
Silke was still standing over them with her arms raised.
The only difference now was that her face had been replaced by the back of her head.
The energy in her hands died, and she slowly fell forward onto the ground with a sickening thump.
Xzar tilted his head, gazing down at the corpse, then calmly stepped past it and kneeled down over Dorean and Imoen.
The dwarf saw and felt the man's hand on his head, gently tousling his hair.
Then the world became a swirl of noise and colour again, and the pain coursing through his body overrode his senses.