drnuncheon's Freeport Story Hour
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drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Fifteen, Part Eleven: "Do you think you have won?"
Compiler's Note: Horacio, I hope you're still around - I can't leave you on that cliffhanger for a month! (Not when I've got an even better one.)
As the energy erupted around her, Dru gave a mighty heave, and felt the crystal slide - and topple. It landed with a heavy crash, and as the dazzling display died away she saw that it was regrettably intact. Her skin stung as if it had been sunburned, but Drac's spell seemed to have no other effect.
"The Unspeakable One blight your souls!" Drac cried, advancing wrathfully. His hand swept up, and a billowing cloud of inky blackness coalesced around Dru. She could feel a cool bitter burning on her skin for a moment, and then it, too vanished - leaving her again almost unscathed. She smiled at Drac, and enjoyed seeing his face turn purple with rage.
The light still shone upward from the pedestal, but now it was unchanneled by the crystal. It spiralled and twisted in a pillar, seeking some focus and finding none, lashing across the glass enclosure that formed the roof of the lighthouse. The metal frame twisted and creaked, and the glass shattered, filling the room with a thousand crystalline knives.
Dru pulled the glass from her cheek with a grimace, feeling the blood running down her face. Varesh was staggering where he battled Gorn, Di'Fier was still pinned in the corner by Maeorgan, and Drac was struggling to lift the crystal back into place. She took a step back, grabbed her bow where it lay on the floor, and aimed at the Sea Lord.
The very stones of the lighthouse began to shake, and she carefully adjusted her aim. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gorn's blade send Varesh crashing to the ground again. Her arrow flew, sinking deep into his leg, but in his madness Drac didn't seem to feel it. The crystal lifted slowly back onto the pedestal, and the shuddering subsided. Once again, the beam of light lanced up straight into the heavens, doing the work of the Brotherhood.
Di'Fier parried madly as Maeorgan's blade pounded down again. The man was as strong as a blacksmith, and Di'Fier had the uncomfortable realization of just what an anvil must feel like. Only his defensive training had kept him from being cloven in two by the cultist's blade, and even the newly magical blade of his sword was beginning to show nicks along the edge.
He risked a glance over Maeorgan's shoulder to see how Dru was doing. Not good. Varesh was down, and Dru standing over him battling Gorn - with Drac approaching from behind. "Dru! Look out!" he cried, but it was too late. Drac's touch sent a bolt of unholy energy coursing through her, and she staggered, dropping to one knee - but her blade thrust to the side, skewering Drac through his side.
It's now or never, Di'Fier thought to himself, and readied himself for the next anvil-blow. Instead of parrying it, he twisted under it, whirling in a complete circle to bring his blade crashing up across Maeorgan's waist, under the protection of his breastplate. The Captain stepped back, blood welling from the cut...then, impossibly, raised his longsword and charged. Di'Fier flung his blade up and felt his arms numb yet again from the impact - and then Maeorgan's weight slammed into him, pushing him back.
Di'Fier staggered, reflexively shoving the man away from him - and Maeorgan toppled off of him to crash to the ground. The spreading pool of crimson around him left little doubt that he was not long for this world. Di'Fier's eyes flashed to the other battle, and he regripped his blade.
Dru climbed to her feet as Drac pulled himself off of her blade, seemingly uncaring that she'd just punctured his gut. Before she could press the attack, Gorn was upon her again. The heavy blade whistled down towards her, and met both buckler and her own blade, raised in a desperate block. The force of the blow still sent her back a pace, and her foot began to slide in the blood that had been strewn about the room.
And then, a war-cry erupted behind Gorn. Leaping over the prone Varesh, Di'Fier slammed his massive blade into the serpentman's back, with the full weight of his charge behind it. The creature stumbled, then crashed to the floor. Di'Fier grinned at her as he planted one foot on the corpse to pull his blade free, and they turned to face Milton Drac.
The Sea Lord grinned at them, cradling an object in his palm: a tiny skull. With a flick of his wrist, the object arced to the floor between the two...and exploded, flinging the two apart. As she crashed to the ground, Dru could see the mangled form of Varesh, thrown up against the pillar, torn apart by the blast and shards of bone.
"Do you think you have won?" Drac mocked. "You have accomplished nothing!" He turned his face to the sky above. "Unspeakable One, grant me your favor as I dispatch these fools." One hand pulled a cruelly curved sickle from his belt. "Bless this blade as the instrument of their demise." The blade almost seemed to glow in the reflected light from the crystal. Drac smiled, and stepped forward. Di'Fier had regained his feet, but Drac parried his blow almost casually, sending the Watchman staggering to the side.
Gods above, how strong is he? thought Di'Fier as Drac brushed him aside. He gripped his sword in arms that trembled from loss of blood and stepped forward, watching as Dru grabbed her bow and sent an arrow into the man - an arrow that he seemed not to notice as he advanced on the elf. Dru dropped the bow and grabbed her rapier, barely managing to parry the curved blade.
Di'Fier advanced, blade held low. It was heavy, too heavy. He'd only have one chance. Another step...another...and then he was twisting around, pulling the blade up and over in a deadly arc, slamming it down on the high priest's shoulder, letting loose a shower of blood. He stepped back to give the Sea Lord room to fall.
Which is why he was so surprised when Drac turned and drew the sickle across his throat.
Compiler's Note: Horacio, I hope you're still around - I can't leave you on that cliffhanger for a month! (Not when I've got an even better one.)
As the energy erupted around her, Dru gave a mighty heave, and felt the crystal slide - and topple. It landed with a heavy crash, and as the dazzling display died away she saw that it was regrettably intact. Her skin stung as if it had been sunburned, but Drac's spell seemed to have no other effect.
"The Unspeakable One blight your souls!" Drac cried, advancing wrathfully. His hand swept up, and a billowing cloud of inky blackness coalesced around Dru. She could feel a cool bitter burning on her skin for a moment, and then it, too vanished - leaving her again almost unscathed. She smiled at Drac, and enjoyed seeing his face turn purple with rage.
The light still shone upward from the pedestal, but now it was unchanneled by the crystal. It spiralled and twisted in a pillar, seeking some focus and finding none, lashing across the glass enclosure that formed the roof of the lighthouse. The metal frame twisted and creaked, and the glass shattered, filling the room with a thousand crystalline knives.
Dru pulled the glass from her cheek with a grimace, feeling the blood running down her face. Varesh was staggering where he battled Gorn, Di'Fier was still pinned in the corner by Maeorgan, and Drac was struggling to lift the crystal back into place. She took a step back, grabbed her bow where it lay on the floor, and aimed at the Sea Lord.
The very stones of the lighthouse began to shake, and she carefully adjusted her aim. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Gorn's blade send Varesh crashing to the ground again. Her arrow flew, sinking deep into his leg, but in his madness Drac didn't seem to feel it. The crystal lifted slowly back onto the pedestal, and the shuddering subsided. Once again, the beam of light lanced up straight into the heavens, doing the work of the Brotherhood.
Di'Fier parried madly as Maeorgan's blade pounded down again. The man was as strong as a blacksmith, and Di'Fier had the uncomfortable realization of just what an anvil must feel like. Only his defensive training had kept him from being cloven in two by the cultist's blade, and even the newly magical blade of his sword was beginning to show nicks along the edge.
He risked a glance over Maeorgan's shoulder to see how Dru was doing. Not good. Varesh was down, and Dru standing over him battling Gorn - with Drac approaching from behind. "Dru! Look out!" he cried, but it was too late. Drac's touch sent a bolt of unholy energy coursing through her, and she staggered, dropping to one knee - but her blade thrust to the side, skewering Drac through his side.
It's now or never, Di'Fier thought to himself, and readied himself for the next anvil-blow. Instead of parrying it, he twisted under it, whirling in a complete circle to bring his blade crashing up across Maeorgan's waist, under the protection of his breastplate. The Captain stepped back, blood welling from the cut...then, impossibly, raised his longsword and charged. Di'Fier flung his blade up and felt his arms numb yet again from the impact - and then Maeorgan's weight slammed into him, pushing him back.
Di'Fier staggered, reflexively shoving the man away from him - and Maeorgan toppled off of him to crash to the ground. The spreading pool of crimson around him left little doubt that he was not long for this world. Di'Fier's eyes flashed to the other battle, and he regripped his blade.
Dru climbed to her feet as Drac pulled himself off of her blade, seemingly uncaring that she'd just punctured his gut. Before she could press the attack, Gorn was upon her again. The heavy blade whistled down towards her, and met both buckler and her own blade, raised in a desperate block. The force of the blow still sent her back a pace, and her foot began to slide in the blood that had been strewn about the room.
And then, a war-cry erupted behind Gorn. Leaping over the prone Varesh, Di'Fier slammed his massive blade into the serpentman's back, with the full weight of his charge behind it. The creature stumbled, then crashed to the floor. Di'Fier grinned at her as he planted one foot on the corpse to pull his blade free, and they turned to face Milton Drac.
The Sea Lord grinned at them, cradling an object in his palm: a tiny skull. With a flick of his wrist, the object arced to the floor between the two...and exploded, flinging the two apart. As she crashed to the ground, Dru could see the mangled form of Varesh, thrown up against the pillar, torn apart by the blast and shards of bone.
"Do you think you have won?" Drac mocked. "You have accomplished nothing!" He turned his face to the sky above. "Unspeakable One, grant me your favor as I dispatch these fools." One hand pulled a cruelly curved sickle from his belt. "Bless this blade as the instrument of their demise." The blade almost seemed to glow in the reflected light from the crystal. Drac smiled, and stepped forward. Di'Fier had regained his feet, but Drac parried his blow almost casually, sending the Watchman staggering to the side.
Gods above, how strong is he? thought Di'Fier as Drac brushed him aside. He gripped his sword in arms that trembled from loss of blood and stepped forward, watching as Dru grabbed her bow and sent an arrow into the man - an arrow that he seemed not to notice as he advanced on the elf. Dru dropped the bow and grabbed her rapier, barely managing to parry the curved blade.
Di'Fier advanced, blade held low. It was heavy, too heavy. He'd only have one chance. Another step...another...and then he was twisting around, pulling the blade up and over in a deadly arc, slamming it down on the high priest's shoulder, letting loose a shower of blood. He stepped back to give the Sea Lord room to fall.
Which is why he was so surprised when Drac turned and drew the sickle across his throat.
Jon Potter
First Post
Excellent!
In Horacio's absence, let me raise the Great Update! (tm) banner and wave it proudly.
This story has got me on the edge of my seat (literally).
In Horacio's absence, let me raise the Great Update! (tm) banner and wave it proudly.
This story has got me on the edge of my seat (literally).
drnuncheon
Explorer
Session Fifteen, Part Twelve: The End of the Matter
Compiler's Note: Technically, this drifts into Section Sixteen, aka the Epilogue, but the end of 15 wasn't long enough for a proper update.
He floated in darkness and fire and ice. The fire lay across his throat, the ice crept up his limbs, and the darkness held him in its arms. There were no sounds here. His mouth was dry, like wood baked in the sun for months.
Then it changed. A cool wetness spread across his mouth, warming the cold and cooling the fire. A tingling returned to his fingers and toes, and light stabbed at his eyes.
There was something he had to do.
Di'Fier's eyes snapped open to see Dru crouched over him - and the looming shadow of the Sea Lord behind her, sickle upraised. He shoved his partner back, out of the way of the descending blade, and his other hand came up.
For a moment, the only sound was the ringing of the potion vial as it skittered across the flagstones.
Then, Drac's mouth opened, and he finally seemed to notice the sword through his chest. The Sea Lord drew a single breath that sucked air through the wound as much as his mouth...and toppled to the side.
Di'Fier could dimly see Dru through the haze of his vision - lifting the Jade Serpent, toppling the crystal, and setting the Serpent in its place. The sickly yellow of the light vanished, replaced by a cool green. He struggled to sit up, head spinning, looking around at the carnage as his partner slowly slumped against the pillar, sliding down to sit at the base.
Below, they could hear footsteps thundering up the stairs. With motions born of long habit, the pair reached for their pouches, drawing forth the last of their healing potions and raising them in a silent toast.
"I'll hold the door," he told her. "Get rid of that crystal so they can't put it back up." His partner nodded, and he pushed himself to his feet, using the wall behind him for support.
A head emerged from the trapdoor. Too soon, Di'Fier thought, as Dru struggled with the crystal. And then a familiar rasp cut through the air.
"Holy sh-t," said Jaffar, climbing the rest of the way into the room. "Is that the Sea Lord?"
Dru set the crystal down heavily and gave the corpse a kick. "He had the nerve to touch me."
Jaffar looked around the blood-strewn room, as more of the Watch climbed up behind him: Antone, Konstantine, and even Captain Donnach. "Brave man."
A week later, and the pair were back on duty.
"I wonder what happened to Garto? When I went to find him and get my armor enchanted, his landlord said he'd checked out a couple of days ago."
Di'Fier shrugged. "I don't know. I hope he's OK, though. I wanted to bring him along when we went after Black Dog's treasure." He walked on in silence for a moment, then sighed. "I just wish they had let us keep that crystal. I bet it was worth a lot of money. Say, what did you ever do with the Serpent?"
Dru scowled. "I bled for that damn thing, I'm definitely not giving it up."
"Well, what are you going to use it for?"
The elf coughed, finding something very interesting on the other side of the street. "You, er...remember that door that keeps blowing shut? Well, the problem is fixed." She looked down towards the docks. "Hey, look at that ship. The flag's got the symbol of the Temple of Knowledge on it."
"Let's go find out what's going on."
As they approached the dock, they saw a small cluster of priests, and a large number of muscular individuals who seemed to be standing around waiting for orders. After a moment, the circle dispersed: the new priests and their companions headed through the streets, presumably towards the temple, leaving Brother Egil to trail in their wake.
"Egil, what's happening?" Di'Fier asked as he jogged up to the young priest.
"My friends," Egil said with a sad smile. "I had hoped that this would not happen, but..." He sighed, trudging along. "It seems that the priesthood is alarmed by the reports coming from our temple, and they have decided to take steps to make sure that the knowledge here is safe."
"So they're sending more priests?" Dru asked. "That's good, you were kind of running low." Ignoring Di'Fier's glance, she added, "But you won't be keeping your position, is that it?"
Egil shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. They are here to take back the relics and tomes that we have here."
"What do you mean? What are you going to have here?" Dru demanded.
"Nothing," the young priest replied. "They will leave nothing." The trio halted in front of the temple, and Egil struggled briefly to find something else to say.
Lucius walked down the steps, and Egil greeted him with a nod. "They've already begun," the librarian reported. "Wasted no time at all." He nodded at Dru and Di'Fier.
"What are you going to do?" asked Dru, her face showing rare concern.
"We will all be returning to the mainland with them," was the reply. "Where we will be sent to other temples, other assignments."
Lucius cleared his throat. "Not all of us, old friend. I will be staying here, in Freeport. Too much of my past is locked up here for me to leave it behind without finding the key."
"I understand, Lucius. I wish it didn't have to be so." The two men clasped hands, and then Egil turned to the Watchmen. "There is no way they can have the boat loaded and back to Highgate before the rainy season, so we will still be here for several months. And who knows what will happen in that time?"
Compiler's Note: Only one more update to go! Then it's full-time on the collected edition, and after that, Book II: Brotherhood. See you soon!
Compiler's Note: Technically, this drifts into Section Sixteen, aka the Epilogue, but the end of 15 wasn't long enough for a proper update.
He floated in darkness and fire and ice. The fire lay across his throat, the ice crept up his limbs, and the darkness held him in its arms. There were no sounds here. His mouth was dry, like wood baked in the sun for months.
Then it changed. A cool wetness spread across his mouth, warming the cold and cooling the fire. A tingling returned to his fingers and toes, and light stabbed at his eyes.
There was something he had to do.
Di'Fier's eyes snapped open to see Dru crouched over him - and the looming shadow of the Sea Lord behind her, sickle upraised. He shoved his partner back, out of the way of the descending blade, and his other hand came up.
For a moment, the only sound was the ringing of the potion vial as it skittered across the flagstones.
Then, Drac's mouth opened, and he finally seemed to notice the sword through his chest. The Sea Lord drew a single breath that sucked air through the wound as much as his mouth...and toppled to the side.
Di'Fier could dimly see Dru through the haze of his vision - lifting the Jade Serpent, toppling the crystal, and setting the Serpent in its place. The sickly yellow of the light vanished, replaced by a cool green. He struggled to sit up, head spinning, looking around at the carnage as his partner slowly slumped against the pillar, sliding down to sit at the base.
Below, they could hear footsteps thundering up the stairs. With motions born of long habit, the pair reached for their pouches, drawing forth the last of their healing potions and raising them in a silent toast.
"I'll hold the door," he told her. "Get rid of that crystal so they can't put it back up." His partner nodded, and he pushed himself to his feet, using the wall behind him for support.
A head emerged from the trapdoor. Too soon, Di'Fier thought, as Dru struggled with the crystal. And then a familiar rasp cut through the air.
"Holy sh-t," said Jaffar, climbing the rest of the way into the room. "Is that the Sea Lord?"
Dru set the crystal down heavily and gave the corpse a kick. "He had the nerve to touch me."
Jaffar looked around the blood-strewn room, as more of the Watch climbed up behind him: Antone, Konstantine, and even Captain Donnach. "Brave man."
A week later, and the pair were back on duty.
"I wonder what happened to Garto? When I went to find him and get my armor enchanted, his landlord said he'd checked out a couple of days ago."
Di'Fier shrugged. "I don't know. I hope he's OK, though. I wanted to bring him along when we went after Black Dog's treasure." He walked on in silence for a moment, then sighed. "I just wish they had let us keep that crystal. I bet it was worth a lot of money. Say, what did you ever do with the Serpent?"
Dru scowled. "I bled for that damn thing, I'm definitely not giving it up."
"Well, what are you going to use it for?"
The elf coughed, finding something very interesting on the other side of the street. "You, er...remember that door that keeps blowing shut? Well, the problem is fixed." She looked down towards the docks. "Hey, look at that ship. The flag's got the symbol of the Temple of Knowledge on it."
"Let's go find out what's going on."
As they approached the dock, they saw a small cluster of priests, and a large number of muscular individuals who seemed to be standing around waiting for orders. After a moment, the circle dispersed: the new priests and their companions headed through the streets, presumably towards the temple, leaving Brother Egil to trail in their wake.
"Egil, what's happening?" Di'Fier asked as he jogged up to the young priest.
"My friends," Egil said with a sad smile. "I had hoped that this would not happen, but..." He sighed, trudging along. "It seems that the priesthood is alarmed by the reports coming from our temple, and they have decided to take steps to make sure that the knowledge here is safe."
"So they're sending more priests?" Dru asked. "That's good, you were kind of running low." Ignoring Di'Fier's glance, she added, "But you won't be keeping your position, is that it?"
Egil shook his head. "No, you misunderstand. They are here to take back the relics and tomes that we have here."
"What do you mean? What are you going to have here?" Dru demanded.
"Nothing," the young priest replied. "They will leave nothing." The trio halted in front of the temple, and Egil struggled briefly to find something else to say.
Lucius walked down the steps, and Egil greeted him with a nod. "They've already begun," the librarian reported. "Wasted no time at all." He nodded at Dru and Di'Fier.
"What are you going to do?" asked Dru, her face showing rare concern.
"We will all be returning to the mainland with them," was the reply. "Where we will be sent to other temples, other assignments."
Lucius cleared his throat. "Not all of us, old friend. I will be staying here, in Freeport. Too much of my past is locked up here for me to leave it behind without finding the key."
"I understand, Lucius. I wish it didn't have to be so." The two men clasped hands, and then Egil turned to the Watchmen. "There is no way they can have the boat loaded and back to Highgate before the rainy season, so we will still be here for several months. And who knows what will happen in that time?"
Compiler's Note: Only one more update to go! Then it's full-time on the collected edition, and after that, Book II: Brotherhood. See you soon!
drnuncheon
Explorer
Epilogue: A Date with Your Family
As they walked down the cobbled streets of the Old City, Dru growled again. "I am very disappointed that Garto would do this. We, unlike adventurers," - she practically spat the word out - "do not live for the treasure."
Di'Fier sighed. "Yeah," was all he said. All during the time they'd been laying low after the chaos in the city, he'd been dreaming about recovering real pirate treasure - Black Dog's treasure. But when they had gotten there...
"There's no spikes," Dru scowled. "There were spikes before." Her eyes narrowed, and she took a few steps forward. There was one right about...
Four feet of sharpened wood sprang upward in a shower of sand, missing Dru by a fraction of an inch.
...there. What's this? Impaled on the end of the stake was a note.
"Dear Dru,
Reset the traps.
Love, A."
She grabbed the note, crumpling it in her fist, and stomped forward. Another spike shot upward, and she grabbed the shaft, wrenching it free of the ground and battering it against the walls and ground, a stream of profanity erupting from her lips. "That dirty double-crossing two-timing b-st-rd!" she yelled, flinging the splintered remains of the stake across the cave. "That sawed-off spell-tosser told Gothos, Gothos told his halfbreed b-tch, she told papa, and he sent Alust!" She stomped towards the secret door.
Thwock!
Di'Fier let himself drift back to the pavement as the two arrived in front of the Black Rose. His partner was still silently fuming, but she took a deep breath and turned to him.
"Remember, he's always got two more knives than you expect him to." She brushed a bit of dust from the sleeve of her new shirt, and pushed the door open. "Come on, let's get this over with."
As their eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the restaurant, Di'Fier glanced around. The Black Rose was a two-story affair, with a wide balcony ringing the tall central room. Quiet and efficient servers made their way between the tables, where well-dressed patrons ate.
In a table near the back was the person they had come to meet. Reflexively, Di'Fier checked, but there seemed to be an unnerving lack of guards around. Is he that confident? he thought as they approached the table - and only then did he see the other elf: tall and spare, with hair so pale it was nearly white. And how in hell did I miss that?
The man they had come to meet stood at their approach. "Drusilia," he smiled.
"Hello, Papa." Dru looked at the unfamiliar elf seated across from her father, and then gestured towards her partner by way of introduction. "This is Di'Fier."
"Watch-Lieutenant," Naïlo nodded in greeting. "Please, be seated."
As Di'Fier made his way around the table to the last open chair, Tensin changed from the Common tongue to the Elven one - and not everyday Elven, but the near-ritual tones of High Elven.
"Drusilia of the family of Naïlo, daughter of my blood, may this man be known to you," Nailo recited formally. "He is Enialis of the family of Galanodel." He paused a moment, then continued:
"Your intended husband."
She's taking it a lot better than I would have guessed, Di'fier thought to himself as he watched his partner eat. Still, he'd never seen that look of stunned shock on her face before - not even their first night on the Dock beat, when the Cutthroats had ambushed them. Then again, he imagined he looked much the same...
Dru continued on, unaware of her partner's scrutiny. "...and at least the Sea Lord's not trying to kill us anymore."
Her father half-smiled. "I'm certain someone else will."
"I seem to bring that out in people."
Tensin's eyes flicked to the doorway. "It's inherited," he said dryly, as the doors burst open, and the peaceful quiet of the Black Rose was shattered by a small army of orc-blooded thugs.
"Naïlo!" one bellowed, knocking over a table with his halberd and sending the occupants scurrying for cover. "Freeport's had enough of you!" The object of his anger sighed, and took a sip of wine as the thugs charged.
Dru was on her feet in an instant, sword drawn, casually batting aside the blades of the thugs. She could hear the leader shouting at them over the din: "Not her, you idiots, the other one!" Behind her, Di'Fier saw a second group of thugs emerging from the kitchen. His forceblast slammed them into the wall like a collection of ugly rag dolls, and the building shook from the impact. Crossbows thrummed from the balcony, and in an instant Galanodel was gone from his chair. Through it all, Naïlo considered his wine, as if unsure the vintage was the proper one to serve for an assassination attempt.
The Black Rose was utter chaos now, as patrons hid under stables or ran for the exits. An unfortunate crossbowman - or the mortal remains thereof - hurtled over the balcony, landing with a sickening crunch on the wooden floor. Dru dropped one of the thugs, but the others had made it around her and were surrounding her father.
The elf sighed, setting down the wineglass. Finally he stood, negligently tossing his napkin over his shoulder. The thug behind him stepped back with a surprised look on his face, and then slowly crumpled, clutching at the leaf-thin knife in his throat. Tensin Naïlo looked at the other would-be assassins, a blade held loosely in each hand. His expression did not change as he stepped forward.
"This ain't over yet, Naïlo!" The implied threat was made all the less potent by the number of crumpled bodies left behind as the burly orcblood and his remaining troops made for the door. Dru kicked one of the ill-fated attackers over and bent to clean her blade on his shirt before sheathing it.
She turned back to the table, miraculously undisturbed in the midst of the carnage, and sat back down. For the first time that evening, a smile crossed her father's face as he joined her. Di'Fier tipped his chair back up with his foot, and Galanodel resumed his place across from his superior as they all returned to their half-finished meals, alone in the restaurant.
Dusk settles over the city of Freeport, and the dimming of the light quiets the city, as it prepares for the months of rain ahead. The harbor is near empty, for most captains would rather sail the mainland ports instead of wait out the rains - and with the ships go the crews, leaving the taverns and flophouses as empty as the harbor. For once, the city seems quiet, from Old City to Scurvytown, from the Temple District to the Docks.
Then again, in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem.
- Fin -
As they walked down the cobbled streets of the Old City, Dru growled again. "I am very disappointed that Garto would do this. We, unlike adventurers," - she practically spat the word out - "do not live for the treasure."
Di'Fier sighed. "Yeah," was all he said. All during the time they'd been laying low after the chaos in the city, he'd been dreaming about recovering real pirate treasure - Black Dog's treasure. But when they had gotten there...
"There's no spikes," Dru scowled. "There were spikes before." Her eyes narrowed, and she took a few steps forward. There was one right about...
Four feet of sharpened wood sprang upward in a shower of sand, missing Dru by a fraction of an inch.
...there. What's this? Impaled on the end of the stake was a note.
"Dear Dru,
Reset the traps.
Love, A."
She grabbed the note, crumpling it in her fist, and stomped forward. Another spike shot upward, and she grabbed the shaft, wrenching it free of the ground and battering it against the walls and ground, a stream of profanity erupting from her lips. "That dirty double-crossing two-timing b-st-rd!" she yelled, flinging the splintered remains of the stake across the cave. "That sawed-off spell-tosser told Gothos, Gothos told his halfbreed b-tch, she told papa, and he sent Alust!" She stomped towards the secret door.
Thwock!
Di'Fier let himself drift back to the pavement as the two arrived in front of the Black Rose. His partner was still silently fuming, but she took a deep breath and turned to him.
"Remember, he's always got two more knives than you expect him to." She brushed a bit of dust from the sleeve of her new shirt, and pushed the door open. "Come on, let's get this over with."
As their eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the restaurant, Di'Fier glanced around. The Black Rose was a two-story affair, with a wide balcony ringing the tall central room. Quiet and efficient servers made their way between the tables, where well-dressed patrons ate.
In a table near the back was the person they had come to meet. Reflexively, Di'Fier checked, but there seemed to be an unnerving lack of guards around. Is he that confident? he thought as they approached the table - and only then did he see the other elf: tall and spare, with hair so pale it was nearly white. And how in hell did I miss that?
The man they had come to meet stood at their approach. "Drusilia," he smiled.
"Hello, Papa." Dru looked at the unfamiliar elf seated across from her father, and then gestured towards her partner by way of introduction. "This is Di'Fier."
"Watch-Lieutenant," Naïlo nodded in greeting. "Please, be seated."
As Di'Fier made his way around the table to the last open chair, Tensin changed from the Common tongue to the Elven one - and not everyday Elven, but the near-ritual tones of High Elven.
"Drusilia of the family of Naïlo, daughter of my blood, may this man be known to you," Nailo recited formally. "He is Enialis of the family of Galanodel." He paused a moment, then continued:
"Your intended husband."
She's taking it a lot better than I would have guessed, Di'fier thought to himself as he watched his partner eat. Still, he'd never seen that look of stunned shock on her face before - not even their first night on the Dock beat, when the Cutthroats had ambushed them. Then again, he imagined he looked much the same...
Dru continued on, unaware of her partner's scrutiny. "...and at least the Sea Lord's not trying to kill us anymore."
Her father half-smiled. "I'm certain someone else will."
"I seem to bring that out in people."
Tensin's eyes flicked to the doorway. "It's inherited," he said dryly, as the doors burst open, and the peaceful quiet of the Black Rose was shattered by a small army of orc-blooded thugs.
"Naïlo!" one bellowed, knocking over a table with his halberd and sending the occupants scurrying for cover. "Freeport's had enough of you!" The object of his anger sighed, and took a sip of wine as the thugs charged.
Dru was on her feet in an instant, sword drawn, casually batting aside the blades of the thugs. She could hear the leader shouting at them over the din: "Not her, you idiots, the other one!" Behind her, Di'Fier saw a second group of thugs emerging from the kitchen. His forceblast slammed them into the wall like a collection of ugly rag dolls, and the building shook from the impact. Crossbows thrummed from the balcony, and in an instant Galanodel was gone from his chair. Through it all, Naïlo considered his wine, as if unsure the vintage was the proper one to serve for an assassination attempt.
The Black Rose was utter chaos now, as patrons hid under stables or ran for the exits. An unfortunate crossbowman - or the mortal remains thereof - hurtled over the balcony, landing with a sickening crunch on the wooden floor. Dru dropped one of the thugs, but the others had made it around her and were surrounding her father.
The elf sighed, setting down the wineglass. Finally he stood, negligently tossing his napkin over his shoulder. The thug behind him stepped back with a surprised look on his face, and then slowly crumpled, clutching at the leaf-thin knife in his throat. Tensin Naïlo looked at the other would-be assassins, a blade held loosely in each hand. His expression did not change as he stepped forward.
"This ain't over yet, Naïlo!" The implied threat was made all the less potent by the number of crumpled bodies left behind as the burly orcblood and his remaining troops made for the door. Dru kicked one of the ill-fated attackers over and bent to clean her blade on his shirt before sheathing it.
She turned back to the table, miraculously undisturbed in the midst of the carnage, and sat back down. For the first time that evening, a smile crossed her father's face as he joined her. Di'Fier tipped his chair back up with his foot, and Galanodel resumed his place across from his superior as they all returned to their half-finished meals, alone in the restaurant.
Dusk settles over the city of Freeport, and the dimming of the light quiets the city, as it prepares for the months of rain ahead. The harbor is near empty, for most captains would rather sail the mainland ports instead of wait out the rains - and with the ships go the crews, leaving the taverns and flophouses as empty as the harbor. For once, the city seems quiet, from Old City to Scurvytown, from the Temple District to the Docks.
Then again, in Freeport, things are so rarely as they seem.
- Fin -
Jon Potter
First Post
Truly great!
I'm very impressed with your handling of Freeport and it's been loads of fun to read along.
I'm sorry to see that the ride has come to an end at last.
Now I can focus on Dru's story hour. If she ever writes more that is (hint hint).
I look forward to Book II: Brotherhood or is it Book II: Inheritance?
I hope you'll let us all know when the "DVD" version is complete. I'd love to give it another read through.
I'm very impressed with your handling of Freeport and it's been loads of fun to read along.
I'm sorry to see that the ride has come to an end at last.
Now I can focus on Dru's story hour. If she ever writes more that is (hint hint).
I look forward to Book II: Brotherhood or is it Book II: Inheritance?
I hope you'll let us all know when the "DVD" version is complete. I'd love to give it another read through.
- Status
