Rasmus rushed to the old man's side before he fell. Captain Dwen was covered with cuts and bruises, with a particularly nasty slice to his left hip.
"It's alright Dwen. It's me, Rasmus. What happened?"
The old man stared at Rasmus and grew puzzled. "Lord? Why…."
Dwen winced as he began hacking blood. Rasmus eased the old guard down to the floor.
To his surprise the Pale man kneeled down and offered Dwen a sip of a wine skin. Rasmus assumed it was looted from the laboratory since the fiend arrived with nothing but his spear during his summons. No, that wasn't completely right, his master wasn't some base adventurer. His wine was stored in barrels or bottles. Dwen recalled a contract the Pale man pulled from thin air. Did it mean he had some extraspatial storage available to him. If that was so, was the wine skin some type of poison, or mind control potion, or perhaps…
"Relax, it's just wine," said the Pale man. "And it's not fiendish wine, or some extraplanar beverage. It's just some white tundraberry from my associate's vineyards outside Grom City. I'm not an expert on wine tasting but it does have a light mossy taste to it."
"Grom City," asked Rasmus. "I'm not familiar with that name."
"A city on the prime plane of Mystara, one of the old worlds. The capital of a kingdom of Plutocrats and war. It doesn't have the reputation of 'Great Cheliax', but it does have a Demon King," chuckled the Pale man.
"Thank you, whomever you are," gasped Dwen who seemed to regain some of his strength. Rasmus noted that the old guard was glaring suspiciously towards him and not the Pale man. Was that a product of the fog, did it befuddle the old man? Did Dwen see some vision where he did some great harm to him?
"What happened here?" asked Rasmus, hoping to put the man at ease.
Dwen remained tight lipped as he stared at Rasmus, but relaxed a bit when offered a second quaff by the Pale man.
"Sorry, my eyes are just going. You looked like the master in this light," sighed Dwen. "As for what happened, we were attacked, assaulted by the so called Glorious Reclamation. "
Rasmus shuddered at the name, a minor insurgency of knights from vassal states that found some old rusty blade that inspired them to overthrow the citadel of Dinyar. They were vicious and misguided but he did not think they would operate so far north.
Dwen then paused and gave another nervous glance towards Rasmus. "Master Lero made a stand at the entrance but was driven back. They then overwhelmed the guardians and my boys. The magical wards were set off, releasing that mind numbing fog and locking half the doors of the tower. I sent some of my men to see to the apprentices and tower staff, but I ….I hadn't figured on treachery."
"Eh? " asked Rasmus.
"One of the apprentices tried to gain control, or perhaps a slave revolt of some sort I'm assuming," said the Pale man nodding knowingly.
"Aye, the hairy rats turned on us. A couple of them tried to break into the armory to get some weapons. I'm guessing they wanted to escape during the confusion. Given our isolated location, they thought they needed some weapons to survive so they raided the barracks. They caught me with my breeches down, but I learned them," said Dwen as he thumbed towards one of the cells as he patted a bloodied whip at his side.
Though the tower had a small prison area, Rasmus never recalled it being used. As Dwen said, they were in an isolated spot so they didn't have to worry about petty thieves or wayward drunks. Also, given the reputation of the tower and Lord Lero, most folks left them alone. Rasmus couldn't even recall the prison being used as a disciplinary measure since their Halfling 'servants' were always so submissive. They tended the garden's outside, did the cleaning and the cooking, and were generally quite accepting of their lot in life …that was until now.
Rasmus peeked into the cells. Just two small barred rooms built into the walls. He didn't see any prisoners before when he entered the barracks, but Halflings were very small creatures and could have easily hid under the bunks or even behind a pillow. What he saw horrified him.
One of the cells was closed and empty, while the other was slightly ajar. There were two prisoners both chained and slumped against the wall of the open cell. Both were unconscious, beaten, and flayed. One was either unconscious or dead from his wounds, while the other was nursing a badly twisted foot as he stared with angry eyes at Rasmus.
Rasmus did not recognize either of them given their injuries, and probably wouldn't have anyways since he didn't bother learning their names in the past. The only Halfling he had any form of relationship with was the matronly Misa, but that was mainly because of her spectacular dishes, she had amazing culinary skills even amongst Halflings.
"Watch out for those little buggers. The one on the left carved my leg up pretty good with a jagged piece of metal when I caught them, but I paid them back in the end, " smiled Dwen.
Rasmus was horrified. Regardless if he knew them personally or not, Rasmus experienced the fog and knew how disorientating and fear inducing it was. While Dwen though he was simply doing his duty and defened their master's possessions, Rasmus guessed those two were just afraid like he was and wanted to flee the tower. Though Rasmus knew conventional means would not have been able to break free of the tower's enchantment, he knew he would have done the same if given the chance.
Rasmus entered the cell and approached the two prisoners.
"I said watch out, "warned Dwen. " They might be chained but they still have their teeth and claws. Who knows what diseases they gave me when one of them bit me earlier."
Rasmus rolled his eyes. Halflings were often demonized in Cheliax, often seen as small beasts of manual labour, rather than….well people, small people. It seemed natural and plain enough for Rasmus to differentiate, but he conceded that 'old' timers like Dwen, as loyal and good natured as he was normally, were quite entrenched in their prejudices. Ignoring the old guard's advice, Rasmus kneeled and examined the still Halfling and confirmed he was indeed dead. Given the amount of lashings and flaying he took, Rasmus concluded it was a long, painful, drawn out death. The other prisoner cringed as he approached, but seemed to have taken less 'punishment' from Dwen.
Rasmus drew back and pointed at the remaining Halfling. "Release him, he's of no more threat to us."
Dwen's jaw dropped. "Umm, excuse me my lord. They tried to rob the tower. They attacked me, the other little bugger stabbed my leg, and besides the fogs still up. That means that we're still under attack. You and your friend should stay here until the Hellknights arrive to set things in order."
The Pale man's eyes lit up at the mention of Hellknights. "Ohhh, I always wanted to meet a Hellknight., a soldier of both justice and tyranny. I find the dichotomy fascinating."
"Umm…my associate isn't from around here," explained Rasmus.
The mage spotted a set of large iron keys hanging on the far wall and proceeded to retrieve them. Still hampered by his leg injury Dwen wasn't able to intercept him, but did manage to shuffle to the cell before Rasmus could return.
"I'm sorry my lord, but I can't let you free this lil shit, " apologized Dwen as he blocked the cell's entrance while brandishing a slave whacking stick. Though it had an amusing name, it was simply a heavy cudgel. A simple but very effective weapon, especially against unarmoured slaves and apprentices.
Rasmus wasn't sure if he was going to engage his old friend in debate or perhaps defeat him with a simple sleep spell. Before he decided on his course of action, Dwen arched backwards in pain.
"Accckkh!" cried the old man as he fell to the ground. The Halfling somehow slipped his bounds (not surprisingly given their size) and had stabbed the old guard in the back with what looked like a small dinner knife. Hopping over the prone guard's body, the Halfling locked eyes with Rasmus.
Overwhelming fear, hate, and desperation was the impression Rasmus got from the prisoner's wild eyes. The mage took a step back, stumbled, and fell unceremoniously on his behind. Seizing his opportunity, the Halfling charged.
"Death to the masters!" shouted the Halfling in a fearsome but still squeaky voice.
Rasmus braced for the strike, but was surprised to see the prisoner running straight into the Pale man's spear shaft. Stunned, the Halfling fell back towards Dwen. The old guard with his last gasp of strength smashed the Halfling in the back of the head with his cudgel before collapsing from his wounds.
Rasmus scrambled to his feet and fell back from the carnage. The Halfling was still convulsing from Dwen's blow, while the old guard was now bleeding profusely from his fresh wound. The Pale man kneeled down and tore a strip from the drapes he wore. He dressed the wound quickly but was unable to staunch the bleeding. After they both fell still, the Pale man examined the pair and shook his head. They both expired, locked in mortal combat. Given their lack of divine magic, there was nothing either of them could do.
"Why?" asked Rasmus in dismay. "I wanted to help him, but he attacked Dwen and he wanted to kill me. Halfling's aren't like that. They sew clothes, grow crops, wash clothes….that's not like them."
The Paleman shrugged. "If you've only known slavery and bondage for your entire life you simply accept it. Once you taste freedom though, you'll never forget it. "
Rasmus shook his head as he caught his breath.
"Dwen had always been my friend, we shared many a drink and story together. I've never seen such a…such a vicious side to him. Was it the fog?"
"Just because he's a friend to you, doesn't mean he's a friend to others. He was a guard, a guard dog you might say and he was simply doing his duty. You don't blame a dog for biting, you blame his master."
Rasmus considered his words. There was some truth in it. He never questioned Halflings as serfs/slaves, and he assumed that they didn't question their position either. Their lot was a life full of service and toil. Given the opportunity he could see them attempting to escape. As for Dwen, though his actions repulsed Rasmus, the Pale man was right. He was only doing his duty. If there was someone to blame it would be Lord Leto Leroung. This was his tower, he was the one responsible to keep order. While he was one of Lord Lero's apprentices he hardly considered himself to blame for this carnage. The master should have had more guardians or a stronger fog, or ..or anything. It was his actions that had him drained by the fog, Dwen killed, and these two poor Halflings tortured. Rasmus swore he would never let this happen if he ever rose to his master's level of power.
"If you're done soliloquizing we should get going," yawned the Pale man. "We still have to get to your residence to retrieve my payment, before we find our way out of here."
Rasmus nodded and once took the fiend's hand as they entered the fog once again.
