Desdichado
Hero
No, I'm with you there; I just wanted to make sure that I was picturing the right dinosaur in my head when I was reading there. Because y'know---having the wrong dinosaur in mind would be really really bad.
Barsoom Tales II: Romance, Revolution and BLOODY REVENGE!!! -- COMPLETE
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Another Fine Mess: 5
Love.
Love was all Gral knew. Love for HER.
The awakening that had come upon the tiny owl held nothing of surprise for the creature; he was incapable of questioning what had just happened to him. Or even consciously understanding that anything had happened to him. He knew only that he loved HER and that he would reflect HER voice back to HER.
When SHE held him, peace overcame everything, even hunger. Cupped in HER warm hands, Gral did nothing but look upon HER face, content to know that SHE was with him, that SHE needed him, and that he could be of use to HER.
*****
"So you have a pet owl now. What's that all about, exactly, Arrafin?"
Etienne listened to Elena and then chimed in with his own question.
"Yeah, does he have any friends? Maybe a bit bigger than him? More useful? We could get them to attack the guards."
"He's not a pet. He's a familiar. He's mine."
The others looked blankly at each other, shrugging in confusion.
"Okay. Does that help us? Somehow?"
Arrafin held the little grey-brown puffball to her face, kissing the tiny bird tenderly. She did not reply to Etienne's questions. The half-Kishak shrugged again.
"Well, we have to get out this hut, first of all. There's no way we're going to find Achmed stuck in this rat-trap."
There was a knocking at the door.
"My friends? It is Achmed al-Musharran beni Howetait. May I come in?"
Elena scowled at Etienne.
"Anything comes that easy, you know we're going to pay for it."
Etienne glided over to the door and pointed at Isaac. The big Saijadani grimaced, but called out, "The door's locked, Senor. We can't open it."
"Please do not worry. I have the key. Just a moment."
Rusty iron rattled and the door swung open, Etienne drifting back to take up a position behind it.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by an immense bonfire behind him, stood a lean, weathered Naridic man of middle age, with narrow eyes and a suspicous expression on his face.
Fayeeda stood up.
"Father?"
Achmed shook his head, startled. He stepped forward, into the hut.
"Fayeeda? How are you here?"
"Tariq. He made a deal with the mercenaries -- "
Fayeeda cut off as her father stepped up to her and backhanded her savagely across the face.
The cigar dropped from Isaac's mouth and he lunged forward, wrapping his powerful arms around Achmed.
"Steady there, Senor. None of that."
Elena knelt beside Fayeeda as Achmed spewed invective at his daughter.
"Whore! Did you spread your legs for him, you slut? Did you lie beneath him? My brother?"
Fayeeda cried out in desperate denial, but Achmed was clearly having none of it. His arms pinioned by Isaac, he kicked out at the girl, his cursing and anger overflowing him. Isaac lifted the smaller man from the floor and flung him aside.
"Enough. We're here for the gold. Tell us where it is."
"You'll never get it. The captain has it in his chamber. It's guarded around the clock."
Isaac grinned.
"Finally, we get to the killing."
Behind him, Arrafin got to her feet. The little owl sat perched on her shoulder.
"Yes. Time for killing."
The slender young woman, her eyes burning with certainty, walked out the door of the hut.
*****
The Shaeric soldiers not on duty lounged around the edges of the bonfire, laughing at the flames and the occasional collapse of burning wood. Many had a Naridic woman or boy beside them. None took any notice of Arrafin's slight figure as she strode across the dark compound, the massive fire reflecting crazy and brilliant in her eyes.
Behind her Isaac, Elena, Etienne and Fayeeda followed with less assurance, keeping to the shadows as much as they could. Nevid had simply walked off into the darkness without a word and the others, used to their friend's occasional disappearing acts, made no effort to follow him.
Achmed lay half-conscious on the floor of the hut, knocked senseless by a grimly enthusiastic Isaac.
Arrafin made for the large two-story building where the unit had their headquarters. She was thirty paces from the steps to the verandah when two soldiers emerged from the gloom beside her.
"Here now, lass. Where ye think ye be heading, now?"
She kept walking and one put a hand on her narrow shoulder.
"Here, now. Ye'll do best to stay with us, lass."
Arrafin turned to him and threw up a hand. Gral flew up into the night as a sudden eruption of darkness billowed up around her. The two soldiers, feeling their muscles weaken and their blood chill, stumbled back.
"What is -- "
Their words were torn from their throats as their very bodies seemed to stretch and rip, releasing howling sheets of gore that whirled up into the air, becoming a massive whirlwind of dark mist that towered up into the night air. With a shriek Arrafin gestured and the pillar of swirling blood roared overhead.
The two soldiers dropped to the ground, bleeding and dazed.
Her friends behind her just stared. What they were seeing was impossible, beyond any imagining. A few days ago Arrafin had animated a little stick figure, but this. This was something else.
Etienne recovered first, turning as he saw a pair of Shaeric soldiers rushing forward. He had no weapons but by the time the soldiers knew he was there, he had one's belt knife in his hand and plunged it into the man's side. Then Isaac was there with a heavy log and the second soldier lay on the ground.
Swords were grabbed and the next soldiers coming forward were met by better-armed resistance. Elena and Isaac fought with Kishak sabres, but Etienne had a knife in each hand and twisted and spun on the edge of the fight, somehow staying clear of the melee even as he darted in and out, his edges licking along throats and wrists, leaving long gashes. The fight was his kind of fight, half-lit in the red flames of the bonfire, confused and misdirected, enabling him to step up to his enemies before they knew he was there.
Elena and Isaac stood side-by-side and, heavy sabres held before them, kept the soldiers from Arrafin with desperate parries. Unskilled with these weapons, they could only defend themselves as Etienne, a whirling dark ghost, emerged from the shadows again and again to cut and stab.
Each wound he opened revealed a new horror; the blood shed by his victims came rippling up into the air to join swirling into the wild hurricane of bloody mist above them.
The house was almost completely obscured by the howling storm Arrafin had conjured. Voices came shrieking out from that cruel whirlwind, terrified and pleading. Arrafin stood with her feet widely planted, hands held up before her, her robes flying in the wind generated by the vortex. Her eyes were glassy black orbs.
Fayeeda had fallen to her knees, praying incoherently.
Prisoners and soldiers ran in all directions; screaming and shouting orders or panicky questions. Beneath all that noise the howling of Arrafin's storm grew steady and terrible. A sudden crunching told of the whirlwind reaching the house and tearing at the cedar planks.
Figures came stumbling out of the wall of blood, clutching at their eyes and staggering, falling to their knees.
Elena fought, keeping her focus on the next swordblow, deliberately ignoring the hellish sounds behind her. Suddenly there was no next swordblow. The remaining soldiers ran for the house, reaching for their blinded friends. Panting, she turned to Isaac.
"Now what?"
They both looked at Arrafin. The house, engulfed in her gory whirlwind, shuddered as though in an earthquake. Shingles tore from the roof and spun up into the dark sky. The stink of blood filled the air.
Arrafin turned to her friends. They stepped back at the sight of her eyes, and the thin dark veins crawling over her face. Gral dropped out of the air and settled on her shoulder.
"He's around the back. Trying to sneak away. Get him. He's blind."
She turned back to the storm.
Elena and Isaac looked at each other. Another squadron of soldiers approached, cautiously but with clear intent.
"Now what?"
And the gatehouse exploded.
*****
"He had a knife, Arrafin. We didn't have a choice."
Arrafin glared at Isaac. Her eyes had returned to their normal brown, but the strength and power in them still caught him off-guard.
"I wanted him alive."
They stood next to the body of Captain Garrickson, his throat a dark ragged grin.
"Well, he's dead."
Beyond them soldiers screamed. The Naridic prisoners had broken into the fort armoury and fallen upon their captors. Crucifixes were being assembled and retribution taken. Young boys hefted hammers and drove spikes into Shaeric wrists and ankles. Mothers shrieked encouragement and threw stones. Some cried out for the Kishak, seeking the most hated enemy of them all.
Arrafin's storm had spun itself out, but the fort still stank of blood and terror.
Nevid emerged from the darkness with a blanket-draped figure in tow. The young Saijadani's clothes still bore the burns and stains from the explosion he'd triggered at the gatehouse, hurling a torch into the magazine when the guards rushed off to save their captain. He pursed his lips and made a tiny gesture of his head.
"Who's that?"
Nevid grimaced at Arrafin's loud tone.
"It's Kan Koshar. He was injured by your storm. We need to get him out of here."
The others studied him for a few seconds. None of their faces showed the slightest concern for the Kishak's fate.
"Right. Get him out. Or, bonfire."
Nevid sighed at Elena's angry reaction.
"He's Nevakada. He knows valuable information. We need to send him back to Saijadan. The del Maraviez can take him."
Arrafin scowled but nodded.
"Nevid's right."
She looked down at Garrickson's corpse.
"I wanted him alive."
She choked and nearly sobbed. Elena put an arm around her friend's shoulder, sparing a glance for Isaac as she did so.
"Come on, Arrafin. Let's get out of here. There's enough blood in this sand for one night."
Arrafin turned a tear-streaked face to her friend.
"In the Narid we say, 'The thirst of the desert is never satisfied.'"
Her little owl fluttered its soft wings and pressed against her throat. Arrafin pulled herself from Elena to fuss quietly over the bird. Fayeeda whispered a prayer as she watched.
The bonfire painted them all with its lurid gleam. Isaac watched Arrafin for a second, then shook his head.
"No offense, Arrafin, but your country is full of crazy people."
Love.
Love was all Gral knew. Love for HER.
The awakening that had come upon the tiny owl held nothing of surprise for the creature; he was incapable of questioning what had just happened to him. Or even consciously understanding that anything had happened to him. He knew only that he loved HER and that he would reflect HER voice back to HER.
When SHE held him, peace overcame everything, even hunger. Cupped in HER warm hands, Gral did nothing but look upon HER face, content to know that SHE was with him, that SHE needed him, and that he could be of use to HER.
*****
"So you have a pet owl now. What's that all about, exactly, Arrafin?"
Etienne listened to Elena and then chimed in with his own question.
"Yeah, does he have any friends? Maybe a bit bigger than him? More useful? We could get them to attack the guards."
"He's not a pet. He's a familiar. He's mine."
The others looked blankly at each other, shrugging in confusion.
"Okay. Does that help us? Somehow?"
Arrafin held the little grey-brown puffball to her face, kissing the tiny bird tenderly. She did not reply to Etienne's questions. The half-Kishak shrugged again.
"Well, we have to get out this hut, first of all. There's no way we're going to find Achmed stuck in this rat-trap."
There was a knocking at the door.
"My friends? It is Achmed al-Musharran beni Howetait. May I come in?"
Elena scowled at Etienne.
"Anything comes that easy, you know we're going to pay for it."
Etienne glided over to the door and pointed at Isaac. The big Saijadani grimaced, but called out, "The door's locked, Senor. We can't open it."
"Please do not worry. I have the key. Just a moment."
Rusty iron rattled and the door swung open, Etienne drifting back to take up a position behind it.
Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by an immense bonfire behind him, stood a lean, weathered Naridic man of middle age, with narrow eyes and a suspicous expression on his face.
Fayeeda stood up.
"Father?"
Achmed shook his head, startled. He stepped forward, into the hut.
"Fayeeda? How are you here?"
"Tariq. He made a deal with the mercenaries -- "
Fayeeda cut off as her father stepped up to her and backhanded her savagely across the face.
The cigar dropped from Isaac's mouth and he lunged forward, wrapping his powerful arms around Achmed.
"Steady there, Senor. None of that."
Elena knelt beside Fayeeda as Achmed spewed invective at his daughter.
"Whore! Did you spread your legs for him, you slut? Did you lie beneath him? My brother?"
Fayeeda cried out in desperate denial, but Achmed was clearly having none of it. His arms pinioned by Isaac, he kicked out at the girl, his cursing and anger overflowing him. Isaac lifted the smaller man from the floor and flung him aside.
"Enough. We're here for the gold. Tell us where it is."
"You'll never get it. The captain has it in his chamber. It's guarded around the clock."
Isaac grinned.
"Finally, we get to the killing."
Behind him, Arrafin got to her feet. The little owl sat perched on her shoulder.
"Yes. Time for killing."
The slender young woman, her eyes burning with certainty, walked out the door of the hut.
*****
The Shaeric soldiers not on duty lounged around the edges of the bonfire, laughing at the flames and the occasional collapse of burning wood. Many had a Naridic woman or boy beside them. None took any notice of Arrafin's slight figure as she strode across the dark compound, the massive fire reflecting crazy and brilliant in her eyes.
Behind her Isaac, Elena, Etienne and Fayeeda followed with less assurance, keeping to the shadows as much as they could. Nevid had simply walked off into the darkness without a word and the others, used to their friend's occasional disappearing acts, made no effort to follow him.
Achmed lay half-conscious on the floor of the hut, knocked senseless by a grimly enthusiastic Isaac.
Arrafin made for the large two-story building where the unit had their headquarters. She was thirty paces from the steps to the verandah when two soldiers emerged from the gloom beside her.
"Here now, lass. Where ye think ye be heading, now?"
She kept walking and one put a hand on her narrow shoulder.
"Here, now. Ye'll do best to stay with us, lass."
Arrafin turned to him and threw up a hand. Gral flew up into the night as a sudden eruption of darkness billowed up around her. The two soldiers, feeling their muscles weaken and their blood chill, stumbled back.
"What is -- "
Their words were torn from their throats as their very bodies seemed to stretch and rip, releasing howling sheets of gore that whirled up into the air, becoming a massive whirlwind of dark mist that towered up into the night air. With a shriek Arrafin gestured and the pillar of swirling blood roared overhead.
The two soldiers dropped to the ground, bleeding and dazed.
Her friends behind her just stared. What they were seeing was impossible, beyond any imagining. A few days ago Arrafin had animated a little stick figure, but this. This was something else.
Etienne recovered first, turning as he saw a pair of Shaeric soldiers rushing forward. He had no weapons but by the time the soldiers knew he was there, he had one's belt knife in his hand and plunged it into the man's side. Then Isaac was there with a heavy log and the second soldier lay on the ground.
Swords were grabbed and the next soldiers coming forward were met by better-armed resistance. Elena and Isaac fought with Kishak sabres, but Etienne had a knife in each hand and twisted and spun on the edge of the fight, somehow staying clear of the melee even as he darted in and out, his edges licking along throats and wrists, leaving long gashes. The fight was his kind of fight, half-lit in the red flames of the bonfire, confused and misdirected, enabling him to step up to his enemies before they knew he was there.
Elena and Isaac stood side-by-side and, heavy sabres held before them, kept the soldiers from Arrafin with desperate parries. Unskilled with these weapons, they could only defend themselves as Etienne, a whirling dark ghost, emerged from the shadows again and again to cut and stab.
Each wound he opened revealed a new horror; the blood shed by his victims came rippling up into the air to join swirling into the wild hurricane of bloody mist above them.
The house was almost completely obscured by the howling storm Arrafin had conjured. Voices came shrieking out from that cruel whirlwind, terrified and pleading. Arrafin stood with her feet widely planted, hands held up before her, her robes flying in the wind generated by the vortex. Her eyes were glassy black orbs.
Fayeeda had fallen to her knees, praying incoherently.
Prisoners and soldiers ran in all directions; screaming and shouting orders or panicky questions. Beneath all that noise the howling of Arrafin's storm grew steady and terrible. A sudden crunching told of the whirlwind reaching the house and tearing at the cedar planks.
Figures came stumbling out of the wall of blood, clutching at their eyes and staggering, falling to their knees.
Elena fought, keeping her focus on the next swordblow, deliberately ignoring the hellish sounds behind her. Suddenly there was no next swordblow. The remaining soldiers ran for the house, reaching for their blinded friends. Panting, she turned to Isaac.
"Now what?"
They both looked at Arrafin. The house, engulfed in her gory whirlwind, shuddered as though in an earthquake. Shingles tore from the roof and spun up into the dark sky. The stink of blood filled the air.
Arrafin turned to her friends. They stepped back at the sight of her eyes, and the thin dark veins crawling over her face. Gral dropped out of the air and settled on her shoulder.
"He's around the back. Trying to sneak away. Get him. He's blind."
She turned back to the storm.
Elena and Isaac looked at each other. Another squadron of soldiers approached, cautiously but with clear intent.
"Now what?"
And the gatehouse exploded.
*****
"He had a knife, Arrafin. We didn't have a choice."
Arrafin glared at Isaac. Her eyes had returned to their normal brown, but the strength and power in them still caught him off-guard.
"I wanted him alive."
They stood next to the body of Captain Garrickson, his throat a dark ragged grin.
"Well, he's dead."
Beyond them soldiers screamed. The Naridic prisoners had broken into the fort armoury and fallen upon their captors. Crucifixes were being assembled and retribution taken. Young boys hefted hammers and drove spikes into Shaeric wrists and ankles. Mothers shrieked encouragement and threw stones. Some cried out for the Kishak, seeking the most hated enemy of them all.
Arrafin's storm had spun itself out, but the fort still stank of blood and terror.
Nevid emerged from the darkness with a blanket-draped figure in tow. The young Saijadani's clothes still bore the burns and stains from the explosion he'd triggered at the gatehouse, hurling a torch into the magazine when the guards rushed off to save their captain. He pursed his lips and made a tiny gesture of his head.
"Who's that?"
Nevid grimaced at Arrafin's loud tone.
"It's Kan Koshar. He was injured by your storm. We need to get him out of here."
The others studied him for a few seconds. None of their faces showed the slightest concern for the Kishak's fate.
"Right. Get him out. Or, bonfire."
Nevid sighed at Elena's angry reaction.
"He's Nevakada. He knows valuable information. We need to send him back to Saijadan. The del Maraviez can take him."
Arrafin scowled but nodded.
"Nevid's right."
She looked down at Garrickson's corpse.
"I wanted him alive."
She choked and nearly sobbed. Elena put an arm around her friend's shoulder, sparing a glance for Isaac as she did so.
"Come on, Arrafin. Let's get out of here. There's enough blood in this sand for one night."
Arrafin turned a tear-streaked face to her friend.
"In the Narid we say, 'The thirst of the desert is never satisfied.'"
Her little owl fluttered its soft wings and pressed against her throat. Arrafin pulled herself from Elena to fuss quietly over the bird. Fayeeda whispered a prayer as she watched.
The bonfire painted them all with its lurid gleam. Isaac watched Arrafin for a second, then shook his head.
"No offense, Arrafin, but your country is full of crazy people."
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Another Fine Mess: 6
The sun rose over a ruined fort. Dying soldiers, hung from tall posts, begged weakly for death, their voices a terrible dirge hanging over the smoking ruins.
Arrafin seemed to have recovered somewhat from the night's trauma, and chatted quietly with Elena as they rode away, through the rocky valleys of this part of the Narid. They'd acquired two paras from the mercenaries' stables, and shared this one with Nevid and his sullen prisoner, as well as several cases of gold ingots. On the other para rode Isaac, Etienne and Fayeeda.
The latter had scarcely spoke since her encounter with her father in the camp. He had ridden off on some of the mercenaries' gallos with a number of savage-looking men, swearing vengeance against his treacherous brother, without a single glance for his daughter.
By mid-morning the little group had reached the stretch of beach where they'd first landed. There was no sign of Tariq or his camp. Flags waved aboard the Thuria's Dream, far out to sea, and a longboat put off from the merchant ship.
The riders dismounted, huddling close together in the chilly, spray-filled wind off the breakers.
Elena sighed and broke the silence.
"So we got the gold. That's good. And a prisoner."
Others mumbled agreement.
The longboat drew nearer.
Arrafin squared her shoulders and lifted her head.
"I don't want to go back. I want to go to Al-Tizim."
Nevid frowned.
"What? But we have to return the gold, take this Nevakada back..."
"No. The captain can do all that. I want to go to Al-Tizim. I want. I want to help."
Elena put a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Arrafin, you can't fight the Kishak Empire by yourself."
Isaac nodded.
"Let's go home, Arrafin, and figure out our next move there."
"Go home? Al-Tizim IS my home, Isaac. Or Philip. Or Dominic, or whatever your name is. I am home. How can I leave? Look at what's happening here. We could make a difference. A big difference. For a lot of people. We could help."
Etienne chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Arrafin, it's not that simple. I lived under the Kishaks all my life. But revolution takes time and sacrifice -- "
"You think I don't know that? Do you think I'm not ready to sacrifice? You don't know anything. You don't know anything about me, so shut up."
The young woman's uncharacteristic outburst startled the others. Etienne shook his head and walked away, muttering.
The longboat was now passing through the high rollers that endlessly roared up the beach.
Nevid drew a breath.
"I think Arrafin's right. I think we should be in the middle of things."
He turned to Arrafin, ignoring Isaac and Elena's startled looks.
"But we can't be a revolution ourselves, Arrafin. We all want the Kishaks out of the Narid, but we have to be smart. We have to wait until we have enough power and support to act."
The Naridic girl nodded.
"Power. Yes."
She turned her head to study her little owl, and it almost seemed that the two of them were having some sort of conversation. She nodded to the bird and then to Nevid.
"Let's go. It's at least a week's ride from here."
The longboat scraped on the beach nearby and sailors came running up through the shallow water. Nevid met the first mate.
"We're not coming aboard. But here's a Nevakada agent for Isabella del Maraviez. And the gold."
The first mate took the news very well. Elena wondered if maybe they were just as glad not to have Arrafin the Sorceress on their ship again. She sighed inwardly, recalling that impossible whirlwind of blood the girl had summouned last night.
And the way Arrafin had said, "Power," to Nevid just now did nothing to ease her concern.
Fayeeda stepped forward, staring at Arrafin.
"Take me with you. Take me to Al-Tizim."
"It'll be dangerous. The Kishaks are coming there."
"I want to fight. I want to fight the Kishaks."
Fayeeda's quiet voice rose up in a sudden snarl.
"Don't you understand? My father was working with them. So was Tariq. They're traitors to our people. They. They don't care. They just want to kill. I can't not do something. Please. Let me come with you."
Bewildered, Arrafin turned to the others. Isaac shrugged. Nevid appeared to be studying the waves. Elena nodded, and answered the girl.
"Of course, Fayeeda. You can come with us."
*****
They were not alone in the desert. As dusk settled over the dunes, they heard the rattle and clang of riding gear and a small caravan of two paras and a dozen gallos came around the heel of a dune and into the hollow where they'd made their camp.
Hands went to swordhilts, but Arrafin rose and went forward.
"They're merchants, don't worry. Maybe they have news of Al-Tizim."
They did.
The leader of the caravan was named Serrus al-Farani beni Rifaa, and turned out to be a good-humoured middle-aged man who travelled with his entire extended family. Children, wives, sisters, brothers, and one elderly aunt all rode along, and their presence enlived the little camp as the sun set.
Serrus settled himself at the fire with Isaac and the others.
"Tell me, my friends, what brings four foreigners into the desert?"
Nevid spoke.
"We are travelling to Al-Tizim."
Serrus made a gesture of warding.
"Do not, as God is my witness! Things are terrible in Al-Tizim at this time. Terrible. No, turn around my friends, and go back."
Arrafin pressed forward.
"What do you mean? What's happening?"
"The Kishaks are in the city. The Emir is executed. Sharina al-Sharina's army is nowhere to be found. No, Al-Tizim is no place to be right now. May God have mercy on the City of Kings."
Serrus shook his head sadly.
"This is why I am here, now, with my family. Thanks be to God, we escaped just ahead of the Kishaks. I only hope that God will see us safely out of this country."
"The Kishaks are in Al-Tizim?"
Arrafin's voice was a whisper.
"Was there a battle?"
Serrus chuckled.
"In the streets, there was slaughter, child. We met some who had escaped after the Kishaks came. All who resisted have been killed. The university has been turned into a barracks, professors strung from the rooftops."
Arrafin gasped and Elena took hold of the girl.
"My father. My father."
She burst into terrified sobs. Elena addressed Serrus.
"Her father is a professor at the university."
"Oh, child, I am sorry. Many escaped, dear girl. God has not abandoned us. He may have preserved your father. We will endure this test if we have faith."
"Faith."
*****
Etienne ignored the sudden crowd. He'd found a position dug into the crest of a dune where he could survey the camp and watch the surrounding desert. The stars shone with enough brilliance that he could see the grains of sand around him.
He'd never seen anything like this in all his years on the streets of Pavairelle, he had to admit that much. The open desert was beautiful in its spare purity. That terrible whirlwind of blood last night still burned in his memory, but staring up at the stars helped to ease his mind.
And he felt a deep sense of security at the thought that he would see anyone coming from miles away. Nobody could possibly surprise them out here.
*****
Arrafin had at last fallen asleep, exhausted by the last day and a half of terror and death. Elena sat by the dying campfire with Isaac. Neither Nevid nor Etienne were anywhere to be seen. Fayeeda was talking with one of Serrus' daughters.
"What do you think, Isaac? I mean, Dominic."
"What do I think? I think we're missing every other word in this sentence."
"Yeah."
Elena looked over where that little owl sat next to Arrafin's sleeping form.
"I've decided I don't like sorcery."
"At last, we agree on something."
"But it does seem effective."
Isaac poked at the dying fire.
"Yeah, but what's the cost? Arrafin's changing."
Elena nodded in silent agreement, unable to put her fears into words.
"I'm not crazy about walking into a war zone, either."
Isaac grunted.
"On the list of stupid things we've done, it doesn't really rate."
Elena chuckled at that, and was about to reply when the night tore apart around them. The sputtering light of the fire revealed dark forms suddenly emerging from the night, shadows boiling and hissing up around them. Immense, hulking forms with axes. Surrounding a scowling Lohanese woman in some sort of weird whore's outfit, showing off her legs and cleavage.
The woman laughed.
"We have come for the Talon of the Raven. Surrender it at once, or die."
She considered that, surveyed the waking camp, and laughed again.
"To hell with it. We're just going to kill you all anyway."
Isaac got to his feet.
"Great. I prefer things straightforward."
The sun rose over a ruined fort. Dying soldiers, hung from tall posts, begged weakly for death, their voices a terrible dirge hanging over the smoking ruins.
Arrafin seemed to have recovered somewhat from the night's trauma, and chatted quietly with Elena as they rode away, through the rocky valleys of this part of the Narid. They'd acquired two paras from the mercenaries' stables, and shared this one with Nevid and his sullen prisoner, as well as several cases of gold ingots. On the other para rode Isaac, Etienne and Fayeeda.
The latter had scarcely spoke since her encounter with her father in the camp. He had ridden off on some of the mercenaries' gallos with a number of savage-looking men, swearing vengeance against his treacherous brother, without a single glance for his daughter.
By mid-morning the little group had reached the stretch of beach where they'd first landed. There was no sign of Tariq or his camp. Flags waved aboard the Thuria's Dream, far out to sea, and a longboat put off from the merchant ship.
The riders dismounted, huddling close together in the chilly, spray-filled wind off the breakers.
Elena sighed and broke the silence.
"So we got the gold. That's good. And a prisoner."
Others mumbled agreement.
The longboat drew nearer.
Arrafin squared her shoulders and lifted her head.
"I don't want to go back. I want to go to Al-Tizim."
Nevid frowned.
"What? But we have to return the gold, take this Nevakada back..."
"No. The captain can do all that. I want to go to Al-Tizim. I want. I want to help."
Elena put a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"Arrafin, you can't fight the Kishak Empire by yourself."
Isaac nodded.
"Let's go home, Arrafin, and figure out our next move there."
"Go home? Al-Tizim IS my home, Isaac. Or Philip. Or Dominic, or whatever your name is. I am home. How can I leave? Look at what's happening here. We could make a difference. A big difference. For a lot of people. We could help."
Etienne chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Arrafin, it's not that simple. I lived under the Kishaks all my life. But revolution takes time and sacrifice -- "
"You think I don't know that? Do you think I'm not ready to sacrifice? You don't know anything. You don't know anything about me, so shut up."
The young woman's uncharacteristic outburst startled the others. Etienne shook his head and walked away, muttering.
The longboat was now passing through the high rollers that endlessly roared up the beach.
Nevid drew a breath.
"I think Arrafin's right. I think we should be in the middle of things."
He turned to Arrafin, ignoring Isaac and Elena's startled looks.
"But we can't be a revolution ourselves, Arrafin. We all want the Kishaks out of the Narid, but we have to be smart. We have to wait until we have enough power and support to act."
The Naridic girl nodded.
"Power. Yes."
She turned her head to study her little owl, and it almost seemed that the two of them were having some sort of conversation. She nodded to the bird and then to Nevid.
"Let's go. It's at least a week's ride from here."
The longboat scraped on the beach nearby and sailors came running up through the shallow water. Nevid met the first mate.
"We're not coming aboard. But here's a Nevakada agent for Isabella del Maraviez. And the gold."
The first mate took the news very well. Elena wondered if maybe they were just as glad not to have Arrafin the Sorceress on their ship again. She sighed inwardly, recalling that impossible whirlwind of blood the girl had summouned last night.
And the way Arrafin had said, "Power," to Nevid just now did nothing to ease her concern.
Fayeeda stepped forward, staring at Arrafin.
"Take me with you. Take me to Al-Tizim."
"It'll be dangerous. The Kishaks are coming there."
"I want to fight. I want to fight the Kishaks."
Fayeeda's quiet voice rose up in a sudden snarl.
"Don't you understand? My father was working with them. So was Tariq. They're traitors to our people. They. They don't care. They just want to kill. I can't not do something. Please. Let me come with you."
Bewildered, Arrafin turned to the others. Isaac shrugged. Nevid appeared to be studying the waves. Elena nodded, and answered the girl.
"Of course, Fayeeda. You can come with us."
*****
They were not alone in the desert. As dusk settled over the dunes, they heard the rattle and clang of riding gear and a small caravan of two paras and a dozen gallos came around the heel of a dune and into the hollow where they'd made their camp.
Hands went to swordhilts, but Arrafin rose and went forward.
"They're merchants, don't worry. Maybe they have news of Al-Tizim."
They did.
The leader of the caravan was named Serrus al-Farani beni Rifaa, and turned out to be a good-humoured middle-aged man who travelled with his entire extended family. Children, wives, sisters, brothers, and one elderly aunt all rode along, and their presence enlived the little camp as the sun set.
Serrus settled himself at the fire with Isaac and the others.
"Tell me, my friends, what brings four foreigners into the desert?"
Nevid spoke.
"We are travelling to Al-Tizim."
Serrus made a gesture of warding.
"Do not, as God is my witness! Things are terrible in Al-Tizim at this time. Terrible. No, turn around my friends, and go back."
Arrafin pressed forward.
"What do you mean? What's happening?"
"The Kishaks are in the city. The Emir is executed. Sharina al-Sharina's army is nowhere to be found. No, Al-Tizim is no place to be right now. May God have mercy on the City of Kings."
Serrus shook his head sadly.
"This is why I am here, now, with my family. Thanks be to God, we escaped just ahead of the Kishaks. I only hope that God will see us safely out of this country."
"The Kishaks are in Al-Tizim?"
Arrafin's voice was a whisper.
"Was there a battle?"
Serrus chuckled.
"In the streets, there was slaughter, child. We met some who had escaped after the Kishaks came. All who resisted have been killed. The university has been turned into a barracks, professors strung from the rooftops."
Arrafin gasped and Elena took hold of the girl.
"My father. My father."
She burst into terrified sobs. Elena addressed Serrus.
"Her father is a professor at the university."
"Oh, child, I am sorry. Many escaped, dear girl. God has not abandoned us. He may have preserved your father. We will endure this test if we have faith."
"Faith."
*****
Etienne ignored the sudden crowd. He'd found a position dug into the crest of a dune where he could survey the camp and watch the surrounding desert. The stars shone with enough brilliance that he could see the grains of sand around him.
He'd never seen anything like this in all his years on the streets of Pavairelle, he had to admit that much. The open desert was beautiful in its spare purity. That terrible whirlwind of blood last night still burned in his memory, but staring up at the stars helped to ease his mind.
And he felt a deep sense of security at the thought that he would see anyone coming from miles away. Nobody could possibly surprise them out here.
*****
Arrafin had at last fallen asleep, exhausted by the last day and a half of terror and death. Elena sat by the dying campfire with Isaac. Neither Nevid nor Etienne were anywhere to be seen. Fayeeda was talking with one of Serrus' daughters.
"What do you think, Isaac? I mean, Dominic."
"What do I think? I think we're missing every other word in this sentence."
"Yeah."
Elena looked over where that little owl sat next to Arrafin's sleeping form.
"I've decided I don't like sorcery."
"At last, we agree on something."
"But it does seem effective."
Isaac poked at the dying fire.
"Yeah, but what's the cost? Arrafin's changing."
Elena nodded in silent agreement, unable to put her fears into words.
"I'm not crazy about walking into a war zone, either."
Isaac grunted.
"On the list of stupid things we've done, it doesn't really rate."
Elena chuckled at that, and was about to reply when the night tore apart around them. The sputtering light of the fire revealed dark forms suddenly emerging from the night, shadows boiling and hissing up around them. Immense, hulking forms with axes. Surrounding a scowling Lohanese woman in some sort of weird whore's outfit, showing off her legs and cleavage.
The woman laughed.
"We have come for the Talon of the Raven. Surrender it at once, or die."
She considered that, surveyed the waking camp, and laughed again.
"To hell with it. We're just going to kill you all anyway."
Isaac got to his feet.
"Great. I prefer things straightforward."
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Early post this week since tomorrow: GenCon!
Two posts in a row without adoring commentary? People, you're making me feel unloved!
Two posts in a row without adoring commentary? People, you're making me feel unloved!
shilsen
Adventurer
barsoomcore said:Early post this week since tomorrow: GenCon!
Two posts in a row without adoring commentary? People, you're making me feel unloved!
*smacks barsoomcore*
Stop being a prima donna! You know we love your stuff! And you know it's your own fault anyway. Two updates without dinosaurs? Come on!
Man, you just described most of my PCs!
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
There may be a bit of a dinosaur hiatus. But I promise to supply plenty of horrible potential death (and worse) in future updates. Things on Barsoom are about to go very, very twisted.
And it's important you remember: NOTHING of what is about to happen is my fault.
And it's important you remember: NOTHING of what is about to happen is my fault.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Another Fine Mess: 7
In the midst of battle, of wild desperate combat, there are occasional moments of lucidity and calmness that startle the one who experiences them.
It seemed to Elena that for just a heartbeat, the world slowed down and she had time to look around at the pandemonium that had engulfed their campsite, see the defenceless merchants and children cut down, hear their screams, and think very clearly to herself that she had more than heard enough of innocent people dying.
Blood splashed on the sand in thick cascades. Blades bit into bodies, cracked on bone, and tore leather and fabric.
Guns went off, Isaac cursing and scrambling backwards from a massive heavy-muscled figure with a two-headed axe. Elena caught a glimpse of Nevid holding the staff he'd taken from Essermane Varag's tomb, fending off another one of their attackers while an old woman wailed behind him.
Elena had a chance to reload her crossbow and she put a quarrel into the man attacking Nevid. He dropped, kicking and spasming, and she saw another collapse to the sand in front of Isaac. She set about reloading, steadying her nervous hands.
Children were still screaming.
*****
Fayeeda shot to her feet at the voices. Shadows swirled and somebody laughed. She heard the butcher shock of steel on flesh. Naridic people were dying.
Her father, knocking her down and calling her names. Her uncle Tariq's foul cruelty. Crucified children crying helplessly. The Shaeric captain and his laughing assault.
Fayeeda had had enough. She grabbed a stick of firewood and charged.
"God is great!"
She never saw the axe. The first thing Arrafin saw upon waking was Fayeeda's head tumbling to the sand.
Of course, Fayeeda. You can come with us.
*****
Etienne woke up to the sudden shrieks. Down below him, he could make out swarming chaos in the camp. Furious that enemies had somehow got past him, the half-Kishak drew both knives and plunged down the side of the dune, silent in the soft sand.
He saw the woman standing with her arms held out, watching the battle with satisfaction, and rushed towards her, ready to take her unawares, plant his blades in her kidneys. He wasn't sure what she was doing, exactly, but she looked just like an evil sorceress ought to look.
He might possibly have been distracted by the provocative getup. Or it might have just been the wild swirl of the melee, Isaac's guns going off, or the darkness. Whatever the cause, he almost completely failed to notice the large Hinsuan man with his equally large polearm. Only a last-minute flash of steel saved Etienne's life, and even as he dodged aside, he felt a banging impact and hit the ground heavily, his knives falling from his hands.
The woman turned and saw him for the first time.
"Well done, Deepek. Now find the Talon."
She laughed and held up what to Etienne's dazed eyes looked like sewing needles.
"Embroidery?"
*****
Isaac held his sword out, staring down the other guy and trying not to shake. Killing the first one had cost him and he knew he was bleeding badly. Elena was somewhere behind him.
"What the hell is the Talon of the Raven?"
"How should I know?"
He took a second to consider their situation. Not great. But they'd been in worse spots, he decided, remembering the horror of their flight from the town of Chimney. At least these guys COULD be killed.
Two of the bad guys were down, leaving two still standing, as well as the slutty-looking Lohanese woman who seemed to be boss.
Nevid was alive, having suffered one of his rare bouts of courage. He crouched behind a dead gallo, with some survivors huddled beside him. Bodies lay strewn around the campfire. Isaac couldn't see Etienne anywhere.
"Three against three, lady. You still like your odds?"
Arrafin stood up. Her eyes burned.
"Four against three."
The Lohanese woman smiled. Isaac just had time to note the flash of metal in her hand before she gestured at him. Searing bolts of pain tore through him as tiny wounds opened in his arms and torso. He fell to his knees, unable to remain standing. Teeth gritted, he groaned against the agony stabbing into him.
Elena's crossbow went off and suddenly there was a quarrel sticking out of the woman's side. She gasped and fell back, caught by one of her guards. Her hand flew out in a gesture and dark shadows coiled around her. Elena heard Arrafin cry out in warning but then the sand erupted at the woman's feet. Like the bow wave of an invisible ship the explosion tore through the desert floor straight at Elena.
She felt the ground beneath her ripple and fling her into the air, her arms pinwheeling in helpless circles. Her impact with the ground knocked the wind out of her.
*****
Sorcery. The woman was a sorceress.
A sorceress of power. Arrafin stared as the Lohanese sorceress cast some kind of spell that sent Elena flying, her concern for her friend lost to her excitement at the thought of new spells.
She faced the sorceress, who was sagging now from Elena's crossbow quarrel.
"You want the Talon? What is it? Why do we need to fight?"
The woman laughed again, but a little less smugly this time. She pointed.
"That. My mistress demands it."
Arrafin turned to see the nine-foot-long, cloth-wrapped sword that Elena had been carrying since Chimney. It lay propped against a pile of firewood.
"How many spells do you have?"
The woman stared.
"You know sorcery, child? Who taught you?"
"I taught myself."
"You taught yourself? Interesting."
"Hold a minute. Maybe we can reach an agreement."
Elena had gotten shakily to her feet and turned in astonishment at Arrafin's suggestion.
"First, release our friend."
The woman waved a hand and Isaac collapsed, moaning. Arrafin watched for a second as her friend pushed himself up. He stumbled to where Arrafin and Elena stood, the three of them opposite the campfire from the woman and her guards.
"Arrafin, what are you doing?"
"We don't have to fight. We could give it to them."
Isaac groaned.
"But they're bad guys, Arrafin. We don't give ancient magic weapons to bad guys."
"How do we know they're bad guys?"
"'We're going to kill you all' was the first thing they said."
"But they didn't know us."
"I think that strengthens my argument, not yours."
Arrafin sulked.
Nevid stood up from behind the dead gallo and stepped forward.
"Madam, is it necessary that more people die?"
The woman stared at him for a second. A look of shock came over her face and she burst into laughter.
Elena's eyebrows rose.
"Maybe she does know us. At least, Nevid."
The woman pointed at Nevid and said something incomprehensible. She turned to her guards and exchanged quick words.
"You will surrender the Talon to us? There need be no more fighting."
Elena shrugged.
"Arrafin, you really want to just give it to her?"
"No," Arrafin shook her head, "I don't."
She turned to the Lohanese woman.
"We won't give the sword to you."
The woman frowned.
"We'll trade it to you. We'll trade it for spells."
Elena nudged her friend.
"Uh. What did you just say?"
Arrafin ignored her. She kept her eyes on the woman, ignoring the corpses and groaning injured around them. Ignoring Fayeeda's severed head. This was about power. The power to resist the Tyrant's Shade.
"Is it a deal?"
Elena tried again.
"Look, ask her what's up with Nevid."
"You ask her."
"Hey. What's up with Nevid? Why did you laugh at him? I mean, besides the obvious."
"He is. He possesses something I recognize."
"A ring? A hairstyle? A certain stylish charm?"
The woman chuckled.
"Nothing like that. It's hard to explain."
"Oh."
"So will you trade? Spells for the sword?"
The woman nodded at Arrafin's insistent questions.
"I think so. But I must speak with my mistress first."
She looked over Nevid once more, then turned her attention back to Arrafin.
"But perhaps she will find you interesting."
Something made her smile, a wild and savage smile that raised the hairs on the back on Isaac's neck.
"Yes. I'm sure she will."
For a second Arrafin's certainty foundered.
"Oh. Uh. Who is your mistress? Is she a sorceress, too?"
The woman laughed.
"She is Madame Yuek Man Chong. She is alabaster death. Come. I will take you to her."
"Okay."
Etienne lifted his head.
"Gonna need a little help here. Axe. Or something."
Isaac watched Nevid, Arrafin and Elena step forward and took one last stab on the part of sanity.
"Arrafin. Bad guys. Bad idea."
"No, Isaac. This is important."
Arrafin turned back to Isaac, her eyes pleading. She ignored Fayeeda's body still oozing blood into the sand. The desert had soaked up far more in its ages.
"Please. This is power, Isaac. Don't you understand?"
"Nope. I don't."
The big Saijadani sighed as he helped Etienne to his feet.
"But that's never stopped us before."
In the midst of battle, of wild desperate combat, there are occasional moments of lucidity and calmness that startle the one who experiences them.
It seemed to Elena that for just a heartbeat, the world slowed down and she had time to look around at the pandemonium that had engulfed their campsite, see the defenceless merchants and children cut down, hear their screams, and think very clearly to herself that she had more than heard enough of innocent people dying.
Blood splashed on the sand in thick cascades. Blades bit into bodies, cracked on bone, and tore leather and fabric.
Guns went off, Isaac cursing and scrambling backwards from a massive heavy-muscled figure with a two-headed axe. Elena caught a glimpse of Nevid holding the staff he'd taken from Essermane Varag's tomb, fending off another one of their attackers while an old woman wailed behind him.
Elena had a chance to reload her crossbow and she put a quarrel into the man attacking Nevid. He dropped, kicking and spasming, and she saw another collapse to the sand in front of Isaac. She set about reloading, steadying her nervous hands.
Children were still screaming.
*****
Fayeeda shot to her feet at the voices. Shadows swirled and somebody laughed. She heard the butcher shock of steel on flesh. Naridic people were dying.
Her father, knocking her down and calling her names. Her uncle Tariq's foul cruelty. Crucified children crying helplessly. The Shaeric captain and his laughing assault.
Fayeeda had had enough. She grabbed a stick of firewood and charged.
"God is great!"
She never saw the axe. The first thing Arrafin saw upon waking was Fayeeda's head tumbling to the sand.
Of course, Fayeeda. You can come with us.
*****
Etienne woke up to the sudden shrieks. Down below him, he could make out swarming chaos in the camp. Furious that enemies had somehow got past him, the half-Kishak drew both knives and plunged down the side of the dune, silent in the soft sand.
He saw the woman standing with her arms held out, watching the battle with satisfaction, and rushed towards her, ready to take her unawares, plant his blades in her kidneys. He wasn't sure what she was doing, exactly, but she looked just like an evil sorceress ought to look.
He might possibly have been distracted by the provocative getup. Or it might have just been the wild swirl of the melee, Isaac's guns going off, or the darkness. Whatever the cause, he almost completely failed to notice the large Hinsuan man with his equally large polearm. Only a last-minute flash of steel saved Etienne's life, and even as he dodged aside, he felt a banging impact and hit the ground heavily, his knives falling from his hands.
The woman turned and saw him for the first time.
"Well done, Deepek. Now find the Talon."
She laughed and held up what to Etienne's dazed eyes looked like sewing needles.
"Embroidery?"
*****
Isaac held his sword out, staring down the other guy and trying not to shake. Killing the first one had cost him and he knew he was bleeding badly. Elena was somewhere behind him.
"What the hell is the Talon of the Raven?"
"How should I know?"
He took a second to consider their situation. Not great. But they'd been in worse spots, he decided, remembering the horror of their flight from the town of Chimney. At least these guys COULD be killed.
Two of the bad guys were down, leaving two still standing, as well as the slutty-looking Lohanese woman who seemed to be boss.
Nevid was alive, having suffered one of his rare bouts of courage. He crouched behind a dead gallo, with some survivors huddled beside him. Bodies lay strewn around the campfire. Isaac couldn't see Etienne anywhere.
"Three against three, lady. You still like your odds?"
Arrafin stood up. Her eyes burned.
"Four against three."
The Lohanese woman smiled. Isaac just had time to note the flash of metal in her hand before she gestured at him. Searing bolts of pain tore through him as tiny wounds opened in his arms and torso. He fell to his knees, unable to remain standing. Teeth gritted, he groaned against the agony stabbing into him.
Elena's crossbow went off and suddenly there was a quarrel sticking out of the woman's side. She gasped and fell back, caught by one of her guards. Her hand flew out in a gesture and dark shadows coiled around her. Elena heard Arrafin cry out in warning but then the sand erupted at the woman's feet. Like the bow wave of an invisible ship the explosion tore through the desert floor straight at Elena.
She felt the ground beneath her ripple and fling her into the air, her arms pinwheeling in helpless circles. Her impact with the ground knocked the wind out of her.
*****
Sorcery. The woman was a sorceress.
A sorceress of power. Arrafin stared as the Lohanese sorceress cast some kind of spell that sent Elena flying, her concern for her friend lost to her excitement at the thought of new spells.
She faced the sorceress, who was sagging now from Elena's crossbow quarrel.
"You want the Talon? What is it? Why do we need to fight?"
The woman laughed again, but a little less smugly this time. She pointed.
"That. My mistress demands it."
Arrafin turned to see the nine-foot-long, cloth-wrapped sword that Elena had been carrying since Chimney. It lay propped against a pile of firewood.
"How many spells do you have?"
The woman stared.
"You know sorcery, child? Who taught you?"
"I taught myself."
"You taught yourself? Interesting."
"Hold a minute. Maybe we can reach an agreement."
Elena had gotten shakily to her feet and turned in astonishment at Arrafin's suggestion.
"First, release our friend."
The woman waved a hand and Isaac collapsed, moaning. Arrafin watched for a second as her friend pushed himself up. He stumbled to where Arrafin and Elena stood, the three of them opposite the campfire from the woman and her guards.
"Arrafin, what are you doing?"
"We don't have to fight. We could give it to them."
Isaac groaned.
"But they're bad guys, Arrafin. We don't give ancient magic weapons to bad guys."
"How do we know they're bad guys?"
"'We're going to kill you all' was the first thing they said."
"But they didn't know us."
"I think that strengthens my argument, not yours."
Arrafin sulked.
Nevid stood up from behind the dead gallo and stepped forward.
"Madam, is it necessary that more people die?"
The woman stared at him for a second. A look of shock came over her face and she burst into laughter.
Elena's eyebrows rose.
"Maybe she does know us. At least, Nevid."
The woman pointed at Nevid and said something incomprehensible. She turned to her guards and exchanged quick words.
"You will surrender the Talon to us? There need be no more fighting."
Elena shrugged.
"Arrafin, you really want to just give it to her?"
"No," Arrafin shook her head, "I don't."
She turned to the Lohanese woman.
"We won't give the sword to you."
The woman frowned.
"We'll trade it to you. We'll trade it for spells."
Elena nudged her friend.
"Uh. What did you just say?"
Arrafin ignored her. She kept her eyes on the woman, ignoring the corpses and groaning injured around them. Ignoring Fayeeda's severed head. This was about power. The power to resist the Tyrant's Shade.
"Is it a deal?"
Elena tried again.
"Look, ask her what's up with Nevid."
"You ask her."
"Hey. What's up with Nevid? Why did you laugh at him? I mean, besides the obvious."
"He is. He possesses something I recognize."
"A ring? A hairstyle? A certain stylish charm?"
The woman chuckled.
"Nothing like that. It's hard to explain."
"Oh."
"So will you trade? Spells for the sword?"
The woman nodded at Arrafin's insistent questions.
"I think so. But I must speak with my mistress first."
She looked over Nevid once more, then turned her attention back to Arrafin.
"But perhaps she will find you interesting."
Something made her smile, a wild and savage smile that raised the hairs on the back on Isaac's neck.
"Yes. I'm sure she will."
For a second Arrafin's certainty foundered.
"Oh. Uh. Who is your mistress? Is she a sorceress, too?"
The woman laughed.
"She is Madame Yuek Man Chong. She is alabaster death. Come. I will take you to her."
"Okay."
Etienne lifted his head.
"Gonna need a little help here. Axe. Or something."
Isaac watched Nevid, Arrafin and Elena step forward and took one last stab on the part of sanity.
"Arrafin. Bad guys. Bad idea."
"No, Isaac. This is important."
Arrafin turned back to Isaac, her eyes pleading. She ignored Fayeeda's body still oozing blood into the sand. The desert had soaked up far more in its ages.
"Please. This is power, Isaac. Don't you understand?"
"Nope. I don't."
The big Saijadani sighed as he helped Etienne to his feet.
"But that's never stopped us before."
Last edited:
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
That's putting it mildly. This moment is where everything started going completely off the rails. Everything I had planned for Barsoom fell apart right here.Avarice said:
At this point in the gaming, the real plan was for the party to get involved in dealing with the Tyrant's Shade. Kani the Cranky Sorceress was just invented on the fly to give a quick encounter during an otherwise uneventful trip to Al-Tizim, where the "real plot" would begin to develop. Two things happened during this session:
First off, Nevid's player played the swashbuckling card "We Meet Again!" -- and so I had to invent some reason for Kani to recognize him. At the close of the session I still hadn't figured out what that was, exactly, but I decided it was some mystical hoobajoob to do with, maybe, a ressurrected soul or something.
Second of all, Arrafin's player decided to make a deal with Kani, which completely threw me off. See, when I was planning this session, I made up Kani's statblock with no real notion of who she was -- I just wanted someone to show up and try to steal the Talon. I realised that if I made the NPC powerful enough to find the Talon in the first place, they'd be powerful enough to smear the party around (these guys were about fourth level at this point), so I made the encounter be a minion, forgetting that minions must have overlords.
When somebody asked Kani who she worked for, I had no idea. I quickly took the name of my favourite Hong Kong actress, Cheung Man-Yuek, and flipped it around and just said, "Yuek Man Chong." I then hurriedly jotted that down next to Kani's statblock so I wouldn't forget, in case it became important later.
Hoo boy.
In future episodes we will see one other critical swashbuckling card played and the final piece of set up for Season Two will be in place. Barsoom will never be the same again.
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