DUNGEONS & DRAGONS: Dawn of Revolution
The Survivor
Three months after the coalition war ended...
It was late in the afternoon by the time Chadun Hopfit staggered his way into the next town out here in the Illaran Republic's frontier. Just in time, too, because his aching feet were about to give out under him. Harengon were known for their hops and kicks, but Chadun could do neither right now. He needed to get food, lie down, and hope that this town would actually accept him. Unlike the last few. He was zero for four so far.
Being an ex-cultist was even harder than people might expect.
As for this place, according to Chadun's map, this town was Torevriel, a typical frontier town west of Nasrond, the Republic's mighty capital. It would have to do for now.
Chadun waved half-heartedly at the townsfolk as he wandered into the main street, his padded feet crying for relief as he trekked across the hardened earth. Just like the last few times, Chadun did his best to look like an ordinary man on the endless roads, from his simple red tunic and beige pants to his leather traveler's pack with its brass clasps and bedroll on top. He caught a few funny looks, probably because harengon weren't common around here.
"Which way to the inn?" Chadun asked when he approached an old washer lady, a human with her graying hair in a bun.
The washer looked up from her half-scrubbed shirt, the garment dripping with soapy water. "Good evening, traveler. The Downy Pillow is just two blocks down that way. Take a right at the tavern with the unicorn on its sign," she told him, pointing. "Can't miss it."
"Thanks." Chadun hoisted his backpack another inch up his back (it was slipping) and kept walking, giving a few more weak waves to the people passing by. No matter how he felt, he had to at least look friendly and ordinary, and it cost nothing to put on a show.
Chadun winced and clutched hist chest as a dark heat flared up in his heart. It cost him a lot to keep... it... restrained. This was getting harder by the day. The compulsion roared for release.
Along the way, Chadun noted the town guards marching by, mostly sun elves with half-plate armor and teal capes, armed with pikes and crossbows. Hmmmm, tough security. Was there sometimes trouble around here? Better not get mixed up in that.
"Here we are," Chadun muttered as he arrived at the tavern, noting the horse on the sign over the front door. He marched past it to book a room at the Downy Pillow tavern (two silvers for the night), then returned to the tavern for a light dinner with what few coins remained. His coin bag was down to just its coppers. Yikes.
"Hey, a bunny," a half-elf girl with vivid red hair said, pointing at the candlelit tavern's newest guest. Cheery music played in the corner, with a live band of wood elves making quite the racket.
"Shush, Rohemra," the girl's mother, a moon elf, reprimanded her. "Don't make fun of people for what they are."
"It's no trouble," Chadun assured them. "I'm from Verhamaine. Not many of my people outside my homeland."
"Are you a mercenary?" the girl, Rohemra, asked. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her half-eaten bread forgotten in her hand. "Lots of mercenaries come through here."
"Is that so," Chadun noted. Hey, a lead already. He needed work, and he'd quench his dark fire at the same time... for now.
"And plenty of bandits," Rohemra's mother added darkly. "Watch yourself, sir. It's more dangerous around here each tenday."
Chadun merely nodded, then headed for the bar to place a modest order. On another note, would Torevriel be the place to accept him and let him put down roots? At least for one year? He didn't even last five days at the last town!
Not with the dark fire burning in him. Chadun felt its searing claws tearing at its restraints as he placed his order, and he winced, his heart suddenly thudding angrily in his chest. Not... not now...!
"Is something wrong, dear patron?" the bartender, a high elf with shiny blond hair, asked. Two other patrons, a goliath and a human, gave the harengon a funny look.
Chadun was already doubling over, fighting down the compulsion even harder. He gestured with a paw. "Fine. I'm... fine."
"Better not be trouble," the goliath said gruffly before he emptied his wooden ale cup, slammed it down, and ordered another. Typical mountain brute.
Chadun kept both his dark fire and his food down as he ate, trying hard to avoid everyone's eyes. Once he downed his darkberry ale, he paid with eight coppers and slid off the stool, hastily making his way for the door. If he hurried, he'd make it back to his inn room in time to avoid being seen. He couldn't keep it in for much longer.
"If you're not feeling good, mister, you can have some of this," Rohemra the half-elf offered suddenly as she wandered over ti him. Chadun froze in place, turning to see the girl offering a handful of herbs from her pouch pocket. Did blasted elves have to get plants involved in everything?! And why couldn't this child mind her own business? She didn't realize what she was dealing with! No one did!
"Honey, don't!" Rohemra's mother cried, pulling her child back. She gave Chadun a don't-come-any-closer look. "Put those back."
"But he seems upset," Rohemra said. "You told me to be good to people."
"We don't know him," the mother insisted. "And we should leave. Come on." She took her daughter by the hand and exited with her, leaving Chadun standing there.
Again! Chadun gasped and clutched his face, feeling the infernal fire blazing up in him. This wasn't good. Any second now...! Once Rohemra and her mother had a chance to get further away...
Chadun couldn't wait another second. No matter his aching, road-weary feet, he sprinted out of the tavern and to the Downy Pillow Inn, barreling right for his room. He slammed the door shut, threw off his pack, and curled up on the modest, straw-stuffed cot. His lead lay on the downy pillow.
The faint, flaming visage of his patron and master appeared before Chadun's eyes. "Chadun Hopfit," it said. "Remember our pact, my good friend. Blood spilled for power gained. I have had no tribute for some time now."
"Asmodeus," Chadun grunted, clutching his head once again, his long ears flattened, his chest heaving with tight breaths. "I promise I shall spill blood for you. This is a rough area with mercenaries and other scum. I will bring you their beating hearts. I will feed the fire of your generosity."
"Can you feel it, Chadun?" Asmodeus' visage asked. "The power I bestowed upon you, coursing in your veins, crying for release. It's not something to be hidden in shame, my friend! If you delay much longer, well... you may expect explosive results!"
He laughed, a sound to chill the bones and light the flame of terror in the little harengon's heart, a laugh that promised the wrath of all of Baator if Chadun Hopfit did not honor his oath to the greatest of all devils.
"I will bring your tribute, I promise you," Chadun said through teeth bared in agony. "This I vow!"
"Good! May the fires be sated with your offerings, Chadun Hopfit," Asmodeus said with another soul-rattling chuckle. "My power is yours."
And with that, he faded.
Chadun gasped with relief, rolling onto his back to stare at the dark ceiling, his body trembling. He held up a paw, staring at it, his mind racing with desperate ideas. The symptoms got worse with each passing day, and his last tribute to Asmodeus had been too long ago. Keep his master happy, or keep himself happy with this doomed attempt at building a normal life? That was the choice Chadun faced.
He clapped his paw over his face and wished that his former boss, the great Bog'Shaic, had properly reclaimed Verhamine's throne to create a paradise for people like him. But with the Cult of Bones gone, and so few of its members still alive and scattered across the region... what else was there?
Just the infernal hunger.
It took a little while for Chadun to find sleep that night.
*o*o*o*o*
When dawn came and Chadun blinked his eyes open, he bolted upright and looked around. Had he set anything ablaze with his infernal curse? That had happened before. But no. His room was fine.
Breakfast was fine, too, so long as Chadun kept to himself in the inn's dining room. The compulsion was a little weaker this morning, more managable - was Asmodeus showing a little mercy in light of last evening's chat? In any case, Chadun needed to deliver results quickly, or disaster was guaranteed!
So, with a full belly, Chadun wandered the morning streets of Torevriel, posing as a tourist while hating and even fearing himself for his real purpose - scouting for victims. Someone, Chadun told himself as he sized up the ignorant townsfolk around him. Someone no one would miss. A weak link in the local community. Someone whose heart he could feed to Asmodeus' hunger!
Not the local blacksmith, no sir. Not the cheerful, smiling, proud earth genasi who pounded the blade of a half-finished sword while chatting with some of his customers. Nor could Chadun drag the owner of the gambling den to the nearby forest and carve his heart out to send its essence to the distant Baator. Chadun didn't have any spare coins to gamble anyway, so he hastily left the gambling den and found himself at a bakery.
"Ah, your kind love pies, don't they?" the baker, a high elf lady with her hair in an elegant bun, asked as Chadun stepped inside.
Chadun flinched. "My... people?" Did she know? Did this elf woman know of his allegiance to the Cult of Bones, or his fiendish pact? Warlocks were hated in Verhamaine, after all, and they weren't much loved here in the Republic, either. What if -
"Harengon!" the elf said, smiling widely as she gestured at her freshest confections. "We fey love our delicious whimsy, do we not? I used to own a bakery in Verhamaine, you see, in Coventry. I had a few harengon regulars. I haven't seen your kind in almost ten years."
"I... see." Chadun mentally kicked himself. He was losing it! The infernal compulsion, while currently manageable, was growing stronger by the minute. His fingers were already twitching with impatience, his mouth dry, his mind unraveling as he desperately chased any hint of relief. He had to offer a heart now, or feel Asmodeus' searing claws around his throat!
Who was he kidding? He'd never live as a normal man anywhere like this. Not unless he joined one of the continent's fiendish cults. And he was done with that life.
And he'd have no life at this rate. No place of his own.
"Maybe... that one," Chadun said vaguely as he pointed at a pie at random.
"Ah, my plum pie," the elf said happily, clapping her hands together. "I added raspberries and powdered sugar for extra flair. Would you like one, good sir?"
"Perhaps. I - argh!" Chadun winced at a flare of heat in his head. He clapped a paw to his forehead, instinctively flattening his ears in a defensive position.
"My word! Are you all right?"
"Forget the pie. Good day!" Chadun turned and bolted out the door, panting as he went. He bumped into a few people in the street, barely even seeing where he was going. His vision was getting hazy. Time was out. He had to find someone and offer their life to Asmodeus now -
"Bandits! Call the guards!" a man shouted.
Cries of alarm rang out in the street as the people scattered.
"What the..." Chadun blinked a few times, then realized what else was happening. There it was, that bloodlust that was not his own! When enemies were nearby, Asmodeus granted his followers clarity of purpose, that purpose being slaughter. Chadun's confused thoughts and physical symptoms melted away, and he felt himself sharpening into the fiendish tool the lord of Baator needed him to be.
He couldn't run away from this fight.
"It's been too long, good people of Torevriel!" a wood elf, probably the bandit gang's leader, cried out as he stepped forth. He brandished his elegant longsword through the air, a cruel-looking weapon with a yellow tassel at the end. "Your town looks so prosperous. Why not share some with us? My friends are getting awfully hungry!"
His "friends" were a small mob made up of about eight to ten half-orcs armed with clubs and greataxes, and about that many humans, wood elves, and goliaths with shortswords. They wore mismatched leather, half-plate, and chain mail and all had dark red headbands on, a symbol of unity. Then there was a smug-looking sun elf man with wavy, reddish-bronze colored hair and a set of red and gray robes. "Elgriel, they don't seem too happy to see us," the sun elf commented. His hands crackled with arcane power. "Such poor manners!"
"Maybe they don't respect us as guests," the leader, Elgriel, commented off-handedly. "Teach 'em to take us seriously, why don't you?"
"I shall." The sun elf extended a hand, and a quartet of magical missiles streaked from his palm. Chadun recoiled and defensively threw up a paw, watching the missiles tear through a nearby fruit stand and a trinket shop. Shards of broken brick and wood scattered, and the nearby townsfolk screamed in terror.
Chadun balled his paws into fists, sizing up his enemies as his infernal powers flared up around him. Like it or not, he couldn't hide his borrowed eldritch energies, and Asmodeus would leisurely peel the flesh from his bones if he dared to run now. Meanwhile, back in his Cult of Bones days, it was so easy to join his squadmates and bully people with his powers, but Bog'Shaic and the Cult were gone, and the Midnight Keep was far away. Out here, Chadun only had himself. And the town guards, for whatever that was worth.
"My word. Look at that fleabag," the sun elf sorcerer said, pointing at Chadun. "He's not running. In fact, I think he means to oppose us."
"I didn't see him last time," Elgriel commented. "Torevriel doesn't have warlocks among its people."
"Get... away...!" Chadun grated out, hunched over as he infernal powers kept rising. "Or someone will... end up dead...!"
"I don't think so, pal," Elgriel taunted him. He and his men slowly approached. "If you stand in our way, we'll run you through and make a hat out of your hide!"
There was truly no way out of this. Fine.
Chadun snapped his head up, extended a paw, and shouted a few infernal words. At once, a searing wall of flame erupted, separating Elgriel and his sun elf friend from the rest of their bandit gang. Hot, dry air billowed from the instant inferno, and the townsfolk wailed in alarm as they kept fleeing for their lives. Chadun bared his teeth and wiggled his fingers to control the flames, but it wasn't easy. Already, his wall of fire was torching a few nearby homes and a shop, their roofs ablaze.
Elgriel's face settled into a scowl. "Take him down, Rathand! On me!"
His sun elf friend, evidently Rathand, nodded and launched another quartet of magical missiles right at his harengon opponent while Elgriel leaped into action.
Chadun tensed his muscles, then sprang out of the way as Elgriel swiped at him with his blade. Curses, Elgriel is quick on his feet, even faster than Chadun's own people! And so agile, too! It was all Chadun could do to dodge and weave the sword attacks, trying to find an opening to strike back. None presented itself. Unless...
The whole time, Rathand the sorcerer was just standing there, an easy target, and Chadun had just the spell for that. He threw out a paw and flung an eldritch beam at his sun elf enemy, a nasty, crackling bolt of arcane energy that could tear a goliath in half.
That was when Rathand the sorcerer stomped a foot, extended his arms, and spoke an arcane word.
A shimmering, pearly-gold barrier of magical energy surrounded Rathand the sorcerer, covered in gears and clock markings, and the eldritch beam bounced right off. Chadun knew what he was seeing - this was the handiwork of a sorcerer born with the cosmic force of order in his blood! The defensive, logical blessings of Mechanus were Rathand's to command.
Again Chadun fired an eldritch beam, and again, the arcane attack bounced off the shield.
A second later, Elgriel's sword tip grazed Chadun's chest, cutting through his clothes and drawing hot blood. Snarling in pain, Chadun retaliated at once with a thick beam of noxious green energy, a hellish rebuke of infernal power that could vaporize a clay golem in one hit (it had happened before).
With magical gales of air surrounding him, Elgriel elegantly dodged the retaliatory attack, smirking as he landed back on his feet. So his leather armor wasn't just fancy - it was enchanted with the power of zephyrs!
This was not looking good!
"Had enough, fleabag?" Elgriel taunted him as he continued his bladed assault. "You can't beat both of us!"
Too true, Chadun thought as he kept bobbing and weaving. Then he sprang hard to the left on his rabbit legs, hopped back, and looked over his shoulder. "Maybe they can."
For a handful of town guards had finally arrived, and based on the shouting and clash of metal on the fire wall's other wide, the guards had engaged the rest of Elgriel's bandit squad in battle, too. The tide was turning!
"Back me up!" Chadun shouted to his reinforcements as Elgriel charged at him once again. "I'll find an angle!"
The town guards fanned out to support him, and just as they did, Rathand spoke a horribly familiar word and swiped his open hand through the air. A red mote of light drifted across the battlefield.
"FIREBALL!" Chadun roared. "Scatter!"
The handful of guards shouted in alarm and dove for cover just as Rathand's mote of light erupted in a searing ball of fire. Once again, hot winds buffeted Chadun, and this time, he felt himself thrown onto his side, his fur and clothes smoking. A corner of his tunic had caught fire, and he hastily extinguished it. Ouch!
Rathand still wasn't done. As Elgriel nimbly swung his sword at the nearby guards, the sorcerer scattered a quintet of magical missiles, one missile blasting a hole in some poor guard's head, right through his eye socket. Chadun winced at the gory display. And a second later, Elgriel dodged a pike attack and slashed the throat of his desperate opponent.
"Crossbows on the sorcerer! Then pikes! Follow my lead!" Chadun cried out, pointing. "Go!"
At once, four of the guards switched to their crossbows, took aim, and fired. As expected, Rathand's clockwork barrier absorbed the blows, flashing with pearly light at the impact sites, and the barrier flashed once again as the other guards rammed their pikes at its arcane surface.
This was Chadun's chance! He formulated his last good spell in his mind, pointed at Elgriel, and demanded, "Halt!"
Elgriel bared his teeth as the command compelled him to freeze in place, but Chadun could already see sparks flying off the elf's body as his willpower started to break through the mental command. There wasn't much time.
Once again, the guards thrust their pikes at the sorcerer's clockwork barrier, and naturally, the barrier repelled them. But this time, Chadun was on the move without Elgriel to stop him, hopping frantically across the battlefield with eldritch magic on both paws. He shouted, took one last leap, and rammed both paws onto the barrier. He didn't even bother firing his eldritch blasts this time - he used them as a melee attack.
The clockwork barrier strained and groaned under the pressure, and Rathand's eyes went wide as the clockwork barrier finally shattered like glass before dissolving into thin air.
"NO!" Rathand whipped his hands around him and knocked the guards away with a flurry of magical missiles, but it was too late. Chadun ducked under a stray missile, then charged up another eldritch blast on his right paw and rammed it right into the sun elf's exposed gut. He didn't stop until his eldritch-infused paw burst clean through his enemy's gut, the infernal magic cauterizing the hole as it went. Rathand pitched over backward, sprawled lifelessly with a smoking hole in him.
"Now him!" Chadun roared, pointing at the lone Elgriel. The snarling wood elf had dispatched another guard and kept evading the pike attacks, the command spell already worn off. But now Elgriel was surrounded, and it wasn't long before the guards mobbed him with furious steel, and Chadun dealt the finishing blow with another eldritch attack, taking Elgriel's head clean off. Good. Bastard had it coming!
It was another minute before Chadun caught his breath and felt ready to dispel his fire wall. He motioned to dispel the flames, revealing the remainder of the battle's other half. Five guards had gone down, but so had half the bandits, and the remainders fled when they saw Chadun and his guard allies ready to strike. And with no boss to lead them, why stay?
Chadun watched with grim satisfaction as the disheartened bandits turned and fled Torevriel, leaving the town in peace. Only bodies and smoking buildings remained. Dammit... Chadun saw how much damage his sloppy wall of fire had done, and the mayor would have his head! And there was still one more thing to do.
Chadun's vision went red as he stared down at his bloody paws, the infernal bloodlust welling up within him, taking over his every nerve. The wrath of Baator guided Chadun's flesh, and as everyone watched, Chadun plunged his paw right into Elgriel's chest, seizing the still heart inside. Chadun let out a cry in Infernal as he held the heart aloft, a fine prize for lord Asmodeus!
The wails of the damned swirled through the air as the heart crumbled into embers that faded in a sudden wind.
"What was that?!" one of the townsfolk cried as the people slowly approached the former battlefield. How typical for people to converge on a scene of carnage! No one could resist a good disaster.
"Is he one of them?" another local asked in clear terror.
Fools. Chadun had a tribute to pay, no matter whose side had to pay the price! He used his knife to carve open Lathand's chest next and offered his heart too, a tribute that the distant Asmodeus accepted like the first.
It was over. Chadun gasped as he regained control of himself, falling to his knees and clutching a paw to his own heart. His secret was out for all to see. Only the Nine Hells of Baator were destined to win today.
"He's a monster!" a villager, a firbolg man, thundered as he pointed at the offending harengon. "Get him outta here!"
"He must be in a cult!" an older human woman added. "You al saw what he did!"
More and more people rallied together against their newest menace, and Chadun could only kneel there, panting for breath as the horrified townsfolk started forming a circle to entrap him. More than a few brandished improvised weapons or knives.
"Leave him alone!" a familiar girl's voice cried.
"Rohemra! Dear!" another familiar voice gasped.
Chadun looked up as a young half-elf girl stepped forth, spreading her arms wide to shield the surrounded harengon from the crowd. "He's not a bad guy!" Rohemra told the stunned audience. "Yes, he's scary. But I saw him at the tavern last night. He seemed so sad and lonely. He was in pain. But he didn't hurt anyone."
"Rohemra, get away from him!" the girl's mother demanded.
"Mother, he killed Elgriel's Ruffians for us! This man protected our town," Rohemra insisted. "I don't care if he did a weird thing with their hearts! We should let him go." She turned to Chadun. "Right, Mr. Rabbit? I'll give you stuff for the road. Travelers always need supplies."
"I... would be most obliged," Chadun huffed. "Thank you, little one."
"I concur with the child," a new voice, a man's voice, called out.
The crowd erupted into confused mutters and parted to allow a high elf man to step into the circular arena, his head held high.
"Mr. Mayor!" someone yelped. "It's dangerous!"
"Silence," the elf man said, raising a hand. Then he turned to Chadun. "Sir, I am Quendi Silverthistle, mayor of Torevriel. Elgriel's Ruffians have been terrorizing my town and others like it for months. The battle might have been lost if it were not for you. Granted, you started the fight, but I don't relish the idea of the Ruffians pillaging my town without resistance yet again."
Confused murmuring swept through the crowd, along with more than a few angry or shocked voices. Chadun, meanwhile, slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. "Mr. Silverthistle, am I free to go? I'm used to being on the road. I can pick up some supplies and get out of here right quick."
"Of course."
"My thanks."
"Now, I don't savor the idea of getting help from a warlock like yourself, but help is help," the mayor said bitterly. "I keep hearing about the glorious revolution in Nasrond that overthrew the old order. Such a shame their help didn't extend to towns like mine."
Chadun had heard all about it, General Silbrass' revolution that had inspired Lorelai's own, which in turn helped lead to Bog'Shaic's downfall and the Cult of Bones' dissolution. Chadun had no love for the father of the Republic, but what good would revenge do now? And Chadun had no intention of hopping right into Nasrond to seek retribution.
Only the lonely roads lay ahead. He would survive. Somehow.
Chadun patted a paw on Rohemra's head. "I'll collect those supplies and show myself out, little one. I owe you much. And Mr. Silverthistle, I only did what I could. Don't expect my help again."
Quendi Silverthistle merely nodded.
With a full pack and a temporary respite from his infernal cravings, Chadun gave Torevriel one last look and turned to resume his journey, heading down the dirt path to who knows where, flanked by pine trees. He was tempted to get out his map and see where he was headed, but he had a lot to process, so he kept his destination off his mind for now. It was easier that way.