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Story Hour
Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nonlethal Force" data-source="post: 3002708" data-attributes="member: 35788"><p>Back in the prison, Ischarus lay flat on a table in a brightly lit room. There were no windows within the room, but there were more than enough magical lights around the ceiling to light the room brightly. Ischarus squinted as he opened his eyes and saw a fuzzy shadow hovering above him. He spoke softly as he looked into the light. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Am I dead?”</span> Ischarus asked, wondering why his vision was so blurry.</p><p></p><p>He heard a bit of chuckling from around his head. Two of the laughs he recognized, two of the laughs were foreign. One of the familiar chuckles stopped short and spoke up. <span style="color: Plum">“No, Ischarus, you are not dead. But you are better off than you were an hour ago.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus smiled at the sound of Semeion’s voice and immediately replied now that he knew there was a friend in the room. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Your weak voice sounds good to my ears. Can I assume that if you are here that I am free?”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus realized his eyesight was returning to normal as Charis leaned over him and spoke softly. Her face was much more recognizable than Semeion’s fuzzy shadow that had stood over him a few moments ago. Her long hair cast a shadow along Charis’ face, but Ischarus was seeing well enough to recognize her smile. <span style="color: Orange">“We were able to bring the healer from the temple here to verify your story. Captain Jacobseille said something about an armed conflict in the bowels of the prison that combined with the testimony of the healer assured him of your freedom?”</span></p><p></p><p>An unfamiliar voice to Ischarus spoke. The voice was soft and fragile, and his ears thought they picked up a slight pattern of speech that was also used to speaking in the tongue of the Elves. <span style="color: Lime">“The patient was brought to me just before you arrived. Fortunately I was able to relieve him of his consciousness before beginning the magical process of healing his wounds. The sickness vanished on its own in due time. With the greater healing power of Barrachius from the temple, we were able to fix your leg completely. No doubt that there will be stiffness for even a few weeks, but you should be able to walk on it.”</span></p><p></p><p>The other unfamiliar voice spoke, although as the man spoke Iscahrus was able to place the voice as belonging to the healer Barrachius from the temple. <span style="color: Lime">“It would seem that I have been able to repay you for your generous donation to the cause of our mutual god. I consider it an honor to have been used in that regard. Now, as to your leg, I would recommend staying off of it except light travel for a few days. Where is it that you said you were from?”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus spoke, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy as the pain from his leg clouded his mind. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Huetown. And we …”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus’ speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without being invited in, the door opened and both Captain Jacobseille and Warden Farette strutted confidently into the room. <span style="color: Lime">“Is he healed and awake?”</span> The warden asked flatly without any real care for Ischarus’ condition.</p><p></p><p>The prison’s healer nodded and replied in her fair voice. <span style="color: Lime">“He is healed, awake, and no doubt in considerable pain.”</span></p><p></p><p>The warden brushed off the last part of the healer’s sentence and marched to the table over top of Ischarus. <span style="color: Lime">“We have good news for you, Ischarus. Thanks to your planned stunt below, we have been able to interrogate the man you call Grick more thoroughly and convincingly. It would seem that he comes from Quehalost. And it would seem that you have spent some time there yourself.”</span> The warden looked up from Ischarus and glanced at Charis and Semeion along the other side of the table where Ischarus lay. <span style="color: Lime">“I assume that your work in Quehalost is honorable and it is you honor that has brought Grick’s wrath upon you. I would pray that you have not brought the attention of a red wyrm upon our city for dishonorable means. And I should not need to remind you that vigilantism is not a recommended approach to doing business in Fingerdale as far as Lord Ironblood and the city guard is concerned. You are lucky that Grick is such a considerably dangerous criminal.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus, Semeion, and Charis remained quiet. They did not want to say anything that would allow the warden or the captain of the guard to change their decision regarding Ischarus’ freedom. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Captain Jacobseille spoke. <span style="color: Lime">“I would imagine the results of our investigation will be fruitful, especially since you did ask to interview him yourself when we are finished. I am sure that he has a good tale still yet to tell. I can tell you that you will not be allowed to interview him on account of the twice violent encounters between the two of you. However, there is one particular fact that I believe you may not know about Grick. His power does not stem from the normal means of magic – either study or natural talent. His magical power comes from a specific line of breeding that is intentionally passed on from one generation to another. No doubt you know that Grick is a Drakontai. I assume that you can come to the proper conclusion that his heritage plays an important role in his magical ability. It is rumored that the evil dragons of Quehalost indeed keep lines of innate magical users within their service who are bred from their own person. I would consider yourself sufficiently warned in the fact that the red wyrm you angered has sent such a special person in his service to handle you. I would also consider yourselves lucky. The innate magic users of dragons are not known to be this ineffective. You survived this time.”</span></p><p></p><p>Again Semeion and Charis remained silent. The new information was taking time to sink in. Ischarus was not surprised at all about the information that the captain had given to them. He replied almost immediately to the captain’s assertion. <span style="color: LightBlue">“I thank you for sharing this information with us, Captain. And you have my assurance that so long as we need not protect this town from more minions of the red wyrm that you will likewise neither hear of us again nor trouble your guard with our business.”</span></p><p></p><p>The warden smirked, knowing that Ischarus and his friends would likely not get so kind a second chance. Captain Jacobseille distinctly leaned over Ischarus’ face as he lay horizontal on the table and spoke directly to Ischarus. <span style="color: Lime">“I would hope that you have the intelligence of alerting my city guard next time you are confronted with minions of the red wyrm.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus closed his eyes in understanding and chose not to speak further. He had pressed his luck and was in no position to make demands. From where he lay, the prison cells were easier to reach than the freedom of outside.</p><p></p><p>After another awkward silence, Warden Farette motioned to Captain Jacobseille and they left the room. The prison healer relaxed upon their exit and gave Semeion a questioned look. Semeion merely shook his head and returned to Barrachius’ earlier question. <span style="color: Plum">“We came from Huetown, and we came by foot. It is a few miles back as you no doubt know. Will Ischarus be able to walk it?”</span></p><p></p><p>Barrachius looked once more at Ischarus, looked deeply into his eyes, and then motioned for the prison healer to remove the bed sheet covering Ischarus’ wounded leg. The healer and Barrachius each examined the healed leg in silence and then Barrachius gave his diagnosis. <span style="color: Lime">“I would advise against it. The leg might well be healed, but the remaining pain from the original wound and the healing may well cause a significant limp. If the limp is pronounced over too much time it could cause more serious muscle damage. I would recommend leaving Ischarus here and returning with a horse. Ischarus should be able to ride a horse so long as the horse is kept from trotting or galloping. Of course, a fast moving horse would require Ischarus to use his leg.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus sighed, knowing that by this time in the day there was no way that he would be returning to Huetown this evening. That most likely meant finding an inn and staying in it alone so that the other three could return in the evening and be back by morning with the horses.</p><p></p><p>The prison healer spoke. There was a tone present which told of a desire to finish up this visit in her smooth voice. <span style="color: Lime">“I would concur with Barrachius’ opinion. Stay off the leg except for short moments of walking. Rest it often and refrain from applying ice or heat if possible. Just let it heal and allow the pain and stiffness to leave the leg. If there is nothing else, I believe you are free to go. The guards in the hallway will retrieve your items and show you out.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus swallowed hard, wondering how he would feel sitting up for the first time since he had grown sick. He managed to sit up well but winced in pain as he slid to his feet and off the healer’s table. Semeion and Charis each rushed to opposite sides of Ischarus and grabbed an elbow for support. Ischarus’ hands instinctively grabbed onto both Semeion and Charis as they offered support. Slowly he made his way to the door.</p><p></p><p>Outside the room, the guards had already assembled Ischarus’ equipment – including the sword that had been taken from him earlier by the city guard. They coolly dismissed Ischarus and showed him the door that led back to the narrow lobby. Once the three party members and Barrachius had entered the lobby the heavy metal door slammed loudly behind them. Ischarus took a moment to make sure his sword was properly in its scabbard and they left the prison behind them.</p><p></p><p>They decided to walk the healer back to the temple in an attempt to find Rhema. Halfway back to the temple, Charis spied Rhema and another man walking in their direction. At about the same time, Rhema saw Charis and Semeion helping Ischarus walk painfully along the street. Rhema sprang forward to greet them all, although her eyes focused especially on Ischarus. Her rush left Brandt several paces behind. Bracchius reached out a hand and stopped Rhema from actually hugging Ischarus. <span style="color: Lime">“Ma’am, this man is in significant pain from a leg injury. I’ll ask that you not put undo stress upon his wound.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema’s smile instantly broke into a look of concern, although Ischarus dismissed her concern quickly. <span style="color: LightBlue">“I’ll be fine, Rhema. Don’t worry. But tell me, were you successful in retrieving the services of Brandt?</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt’s voice came from behind Rhema. He was still several paces off. <span style="color: Lime">“Indeed she was, sir. I am assuming you are Ischarus and therefore, in one manner of speaking or another, my kin?”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus stopped and allowed Brandt to approach. <span style="color: LightBlue">“I am the one who sent for you. I have a need to ask you of a favor. And it is a favor that I was told to ask from you specifically.”</span></p><p></p><p>Brandt completed his approach and stood a pace from Ischarus and faced him. Ischarus smiled as he noted Brandt’s cloak and the fact that it was about as indistinct as he expected. <span style="color: Lime">“I believe that I can help you, then. Rhema was quite informative in telling me of your background. But this is not the time to speak of such things. May I invite you to my office where we can speak much more freely?”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus winced at the thought of walking further, and Brandt must have seen the pain. He had overheard the healer’s warning of injuring Ischarus and Brandt offered up a quick amendment to the plan. <span style="color: Lime">“Perhaps I should be more specific. The invitation would require no more pain on your behalf if you allow me to use a bit of magic.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled, genuinely intrigued by any display of magic. Charis likewise smiled, although her appreciation came from seeing the instant excitement on Semeion’s face. Rhema and Bracchius looked relieved at the fact that Ischarus could be temporarily relieved of his pain. Ischarus noted the reactions of his companions and nodded in the affirmative to Brandt. <span style="color: LightBlue">“I suppose it would disappoint my companions too much to refuse.</span> Much to Rhema’s relief, Ischarus allowed a good natured smirk to pass over his face as he spoke.</p><p></p><p>Brandt returned Ischarus’ smirk with a broad grin and extended his hands as he spoke. <span style="color: Lime">“We must all be in contact with one another. Bracchius, if you desire you may join us.”</span> Once the party had joined hands Brandt continued to give directions regarding the magic. <span style="color: Lime">“As much as I like my secretive lifestyle, I always enjoy performing this spell in the midst of the public. I think it gives them hope in the unimaginable happening. Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.”</span></p><p></p><p>The party began to waver as if the ground beneath them was growing insanely hot and the heat was rising among the party. There was no heat, of course, but the magical effect made it appear as though the simple road grew with insane heat. Soon the wavering quickened and in a flash the party had vanished.</p><p></p><p></p><p>[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]</p><p>Back in the prison, Ischarus lay flat on a table in a brightly lit room. There were no windows within the room, but there were more than enough magical lights around the ceiling to light the room brightly. Ischarus squinted as he opened his eyes and saw a fuzzy shadow hovering above him. He spoke softly as he looked into the light. “Am I dead?” Ischarus asked, wondering why his vision was so blurry.</p><p></p><p>He heard a bit of chuckling from around his head. Two of the laughs he recognized, two of the laughs were foreign. One of the familiar chuckles stopped short and spoke up. “No, Ischarus, you are not dead. But you are better off than you were an hour ago.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus smiled at the sound of Semeion’s voice and immediately replied now that he knew there was a friend in the room. “Your weak voice sounds good to my ears. Can I assume that if you are here that I am free?”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus realized his eyesight was returning to normal as Charis leaned over him and spoke softly. Her face was much more recognizable than Semeion’s fuzzy shadow that had stood over him a few moments ago. Her long hair cast a shadow along Charis’ face, but Ischarus was seeing well enough to recognize her smile. “We were able to bring the healer from the temple here to verify your story. Captain Jacobseille said something about an armed conflict in the bowels of the prison that combined with the testimony of the healer assured him of your freedom?”</p><p></p><p>An unfamiliar voice to Ischarus spoke. The voice was soft and fragile, and his ears thought they picked up a slight pattern of speech that was also used to speaking in the tongue of the Elves. “The patient was brought to me just before you arrived. Fortunately I was able to relieve him of his consciousness before beginning the magical process of healing his wounds. The sickness vanished on its own in due time. With the greater healing power of Barrachius from the temple, we were able to fix your leg completely. No doubt that there will be stiffness for even a few weeks, but you should be able to walk on it.”</p><p></p><p>The other unfamiliar voice spoke, although as the man spoke Iscahrus was able to place the voice as belonging to the healer Barrachius from the temple. “It would seem that I have been able to repay you for your generous donation to the cause of our mutual god. I consider it an honor to have been used in that regard. Now, as to your leg, I would recommend staying off of it except light travel for a few days. Where is it that you said you were from?”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus spoke, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy as the pain from his leg clouded his mind. “Huetown. And we …”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus’ speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without being invited in, the door opened and both Captain Jacobseille and Warden Farette strutted confidently into the room. “Is he healed and awake?” The warden asked flatly without any real care for Ischarus’ condition.</p><p></p><p>The prison’s healer nodded and replied in her fair voice. “He is healed, awake, and no doubt in considerable pain.”</p><p></p><p>The warden brushed off the last part of the healer’s sentence and marched to the table over top of Ischarus. “We have good news for you, Ischarus. Thanks to your planned stunt below, we have been able to interrogate the man you call Grick more thoroughly and convincingly. It would seem that he comes from Quehalost. And it would seem that you have spent some time there yourself.” The warden looked up from Ischarus and glanced at Charis and Semeion along the other side of the table where Ischarus lay. “I assume that your work in Quehalost is honorable and it is you honor that has brought Grick’s wrath upon you. I would pray that you have not brought the attention of a red wyrm upon our city for dishonorable means. And I should not need to remind you that vigilantism is not a recommended approach to doing business in Fingerdale as far as Lord Ironblood and the city guard is concerned. You are lucky that Grick is such a considerably dangerous criminal.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus, Semeion, and Charis remained quiet. They did not want to say anything that would allow the warden or the captain of the guard to change their decision regarding Ischarus’ freedom. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Captain Jacobseille spoke. “I would imagine the results of our investigation will be fruitful, especially since you did ask to interview him yourself when we are finished. I am sure that he has a good tale still yet to tell. I can tell you that you will not be allowed to interview him on account of the twice violent encounters between the two of you. However, there is one particular fact that I believe you may not know about Grick. His power does not stem from the normal means of magic – either study or natural talent. His magical power comes from a specific line of breeding that is intentionally passed on from one generation to another. No doubt you know that Grick is a Drakontai. I assume that you can come to the proper conclusion that his heritage plays an important role in his magical ability. It is rumored that the evil dragons of Quehalost indeed keep lines of innate magical users within their service who are bred from their own person. I would consider yourself sufficiently warned in the fact that the red wyrm you angered has sent such a special person in his service to handle you. I would also consider yourselves lucky. The innate magic users of dragons are not known to be this ineffective. You survived this time.”</p><p></p><p>Again Semeion and Charis remained silent. The new information was taking time to sink in. Ischarus was not surprised at all about the information that the captain had given to them. He replied almost immediately to the captain’s assertion. “I thank you for sharing this information with us, Captain. And you have my assurance that so long as we need not protect this town from more minions of the red wyrm that you will likewise neither hear of us again nor trouble your guard with our business.”</p><p></p><p>The warden smirked, knowing that Ischarus and his friends would likely not get so kind a second chance. Captain Jacobseille distinctly leaned over Ischarus’ face as he lay horizontal on the table and spoke directly to Ischarus. “I would hope that you have the intelligence of alerting my city guard next time you are confronted with minions of the red wyrm.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus closed his eyes in understanding and chose not to speak further. He had pressed his luck and was in no position to make demands. From where he lay, the prison cells were easier to reach than the freedom of outside.</p><p></p><p>After another awkward silence, Warden Farette motioned to Captain Jacobseille and they left the room. The prison healer relaxed upon their exit and gave Semeion a questioned look. Semeion merely shook his head and returned to Barrachius’ earlier question. “We came from Huetown, and we came by foot. It is a few miles back as you no doubt know. Will Ischarus be able to walk it?”</p><p></p><p>Barrachius looked once more at Ischarus, looked deeply into his eyes, and then motioned for the prison healer to remove the bed sheet covering Ischarus’ wounded leg. The healer and Barrachius each examined the healed leg in silence and then Barrachius gave his diagnosis. “I would advise against it. The leg might well be healed, but the remaining pain from the original wound and the healing may well cause a significant limp. If the limp is pronounced over too much time it could cause more serious muscle damage. I would recommend leaving Ischarus here and returning with a horse. Ischarus should be able to ride a horse so long as the horse is kept from trotting or galloping. Of course, a fast moving horse would require Ischarus to use his leg.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus sighed, knowing that by this time in the day there was no way that he would be returning to Huetown this evening. That most likely meant finding an inn and staying in it alone so that the other three could return in the evening and be back by morning with the horses.</p><p></p><p>The prison healer spoke. There was a tone present which told of a desire to finish up this visit in her smooth voice. “I would concur with Barrachius’ opinion. Stay off the leg except for short moments of walking. Rest it often and refrain from applying ice or heat if possible. Just let it heal and allow the pain and stiffness to leave the leg. If there is nothing else, I believe you are free to go. The guards in the hallway will retrieve your items and show you out.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus swallowed hard, wondering how he would feel sitting up for the first time since he had grown sick. He managed to sit up well but winced in pain as he slid to his feet and off the healer’s table. Semeion and Charis each rushed to opposite sides of Ischarus and grabbed an elbow for support. Ischarus’ hands instinctively grabbed onto both Semeion and Charis as they offered support. Slowly he made his way to the door.</p><p></p><p>Outside the room, the guards had already assembled Ischarus’ equipment – including the sword that had been taken from him earlier by the city guard. They coolly dismissed Ischarus and showed him the door that led back to the narrow lobby. Once the three party members and Barrachius had entered the lobby the heavy metal door slammed loudly behind them. Ischarus took a moment to make sure his sword was properly in its scabbard and they left the prison behind them.</p><p></p><p>They decided to walk the healer back to the temple in an attempt to find Rhema. Halfway back to the temple, Charis spied Rhema and another man walking in their direction. At about the same time, Rhema saw Charis and Semeion helping Ischarus walk painfully along the street. Rhema sprang forward to greet them all, although her eyes focused especially on Ischarus. Her rush left Brandt several paces behind. Bracchius reached out a hand and stopped Rhema from actually hugging Ischarus. “Ma’am, this man is in significant pain from a leg injury. I’ll ask that you not put undo stress upon his wound.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema’s smile instantly broke into a look of concern, although Ischarus dismissed her concern quickly. “I’ll be fine, Rhema. Don’t worry. But tell me, were you successful in retrieving the services of Brandt?</p><p></p><p>Brandt’s voice came from behind Rhema. He was still several paces off. “Indeed she was, sir. I am assuming you are Ischarus and therefore, in one manner of speaking or another, my kin?”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus stopped and allowed Brandt to approach. “I am the one who sent for you. I have a need to ask you of a favor. And it is a favor that I was told to ask from you specifically.”</p><p></p><p>Brandt completed his approach and stood a pace from Ischarus and faced him. Ischarus smiled as he noted Brandt’s cloak and the fact that it was about as indistinct as he expected. “I believe that I can help you, then. Rhema was quite informative in telling me of your background. But this is not the time to speak of such things. May I invite you to my office where we can speak much more freely?”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus winced at the thought of walking further, and Brandt must have seen the pain. He had overheard the healer’s warning of injuring Ischarus and Brandt offered up a quick amendment to the plan. “Perhaps I should be more specific. The invitation would require no more pain on your behalf if you allow me to use a bit of magic.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled, genuinely intrigued by any display of magic. Charis likewise smiled, although her appreciation came from seeing the instant excitement on Semeion’s face. Rhema and Bracchius looked relieved at the fact that Ischarus could be temporarily relieved of his pain. Ischarus noted the reactions of his companions and nodded in the affirmative to Brandt. “I suppose it would disappoint my companions too much to refuse. Much to Rhema’s relief, Ischarus allowed a good natured smirk to pass over his face as he spoke.</p><p></p><p>Brandt returned Ischarus’ smirk with a broad grin and extended his hands as he spoke. “We must all be in contact with one another. Bracchius, if you desire you may join us.” Once the party had joined hands Brandt continued to give directions regarding the magic. “As much as I like my secretive lifestyle, I always enjoy performing this spell in the midst of the public. I think it gives them hope in the unimaginable happening. Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.”</p><p></p><p>The party began to waver as if the ground beneath them was growing insanely hot and the heat was rising among the party. There was no heat, of course, but the magical effect made it appear as though the simple road grew with insane heat. Soon the wavering quickened and in a flash the party had vanished.[/Sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nonlethal Force, post: 3002708, member: 35788"] Back in the prison, Ischarus lay flat on a table in a brightly lit room. There were no windows within the room, but there were more than enough magical lights around the ceiling to light the room brightly. Ischarus squinted as he opened his eyes and saw a fuzzy shadow hovering above him. He spoke softly as he looked into the light. [Color=LightBlue]“Am I dead?”[/Color] Ischarus asked, wondering why his vision was so blurry. He heard a bit of chuckling from around his head. Two of the laughs he recognized, two of the laughs were foreign. One of the familiar chuckles stopped short and spoke up. [Color=Plum]“No, Ischarus, you are not dead. But you are better off than you were an hour ago.”[/Color] Ischarus smiled at the sound of Semeion’s voice and immediately replied now that he knew there was a friend in the room. [Color=LightBlue]“Your weak voice sounds good to my ears. Can I assume that if you are here that I am free?”[/Color] Ischarus realized his eyesight was returning to normal as Charis leaned over him and spoke softly. Her face was much more recognizable than Semeion’s fuzzy shadow that had stood over him a few moments ago. Her long hair cast a shadow along Charis’ face, but Ischarus was seeing well enough to recognize her smile. [Color=Orange]“We were able to bring the healer from the temple here to verify your story. Captain Jacobseille said something about an armed conflict in the bowels of the prison that combined with the testimony of the healer assured him of your freedom?”[/Color] An unfamiliar voice to Ischarus spoke. The voice was soft and fragile, and his ears thought they picked up a slight pattern of speech that was also used to speaking in the tongue of the Elves. [Color=Lime]“The patient was brought to me just before you arrived. Fortunately I was able to relieve him of his consciousness before beginning the magical process of healing his wounds. The sickness vanished on its own in due time. With the greater healing power of Barrachius from the temple, we were able to fix your leg completely. No doubt that there will be stiffness for even a few weeks, but you should be able to walk on it.”[/Color] The other unfamiliar voice spoke, although as the man spoke Iscahrus was able to place the voice as belonging to the healer Barrachius from the temple. [Color=Lime]“It would seem that I have been able to repay you for your generous donation to the cause of our mutual god. I consider it an honor to have been used in that regard. Now, as to your leg, I would recommend staying off of it except light travel for a few days. Where is it that you said you were from?”[/Color] Ischarus spoke, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy as the pain from his leg clouded his mind. [Color=LightBlue]“Huetown. And we …”[/Color] Ischarus’ speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without being invited in, the door opened and both Captain Jacobseille and Warden Farette strutted confidently into the room. [Color=Lime]“Is he healed and awake?”[/Color] The warden asked flatly without any real care for Ischarus’ condition. The prison’s healer nodded and replied in her fair voice. [Color=Lime]“He is healed, awake, and no doubt in considerable pain.”[/Color] The warden brushed off the last part of the healer’s sentence and marched to the table over top of Ischarus. [Color=Lime]“We have good news for you, Ischarus. Thanks to your planned stunt below, we have been able to interrogate the man you call Grick more thoroughly and convincingly. It would seem that he comes from Quehalost. And it would seem that you have spent some time there yourself.”[/Color] The warden looked up from Ischarus and glanced at Charis and Semeion along the other side of the table where Ischarus lay. [Color=Lime]“I assume that your work in Quehalost is honorable and it is you honor that has brought Grick’s wrath upon you. I would pray that you have not brought the attention of a red wyrm upon our city for dishonorable means. And I should not need to remind you that vigilantism is not a recommended approach to doing business in Fingerdale as far as Lord Ironblood and the city guard is concerned. You are lucky that Grick is such a considerably dangerous criminal.”[/Color] Ischarus, Semeion, and Charis remained quiet. They did not want to say anything that would allow the warden or the captain of the guard to change their decision regarding Ischarus’ freedom. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Captain Jacobseille spoke. [Color=Lime]“I would imagine the results of our investigation will be fruitful, especially since you did ask to interview him yourself when we are finished. I am sure that he has a good tale still yet to tell. I can tell you that you will not be allowed to interview him on account of the twice violent encounters between the two of you. However, there is one particular fact that I believe you may not know about Grick. His power does not stem from the normal means of magic – either study or natural talent. His magical power comes from a specific line of breeding that is intentionally passed on from one generation to another. No doubt you know that Grick is a Drakontai. I assume that you can come to the proper conclusion that his heritage plays an important role in his magical ability. It is rumored that the evil dragons of Quehalost indeed keep lines of innate magical users within their service who are bred from their own person. I would consider yourself sufficiently warned in the fact that the red wyrm you angered has sent such a special person in his service to handle you. I would also consider yourselves lucky. The innate magic users of dragons are not known to be this ineffective. You survived this time.”[/Color] Again Semeion and Charis remained silent. The new information was taking time to sink in. Ischarus was not surprised at all about the information that the captain had given to them. He replied almost immediately to the captain’s assertion. [Color=LightBlue]“I thank you for sharing this information with us, Captain. And you have my assurance that so long as we need not protect this town from more minions of the red wyrm that you will likewise neither hear of us again nor trouble your guard with our business.”[/Color] The warden smirked, knowing that Ischarus and his friends would likely not get so kind a second chance. Captain Jacobseille distinctly leaned over Ischarus’ face as he lay horizontal on the table and spoke directly to Ischarus. [Color=Lime]“I would hope that you have the intelligence of alerting my city guard next time you are confronted with minions of the red wyrm.”[/Color] Ischarus closed his eyes in understanding and chose not to speak further. He had pressed his luck and was in no position to make demands. From where he lay, the prison cells were easier to reach than the freedom of outside. After another awkward silence, Warden Farette motioned to Captain Jacobseille and they left the room. The prison healer relaxed upon their exit and gave Semeion a questioned look. Semeion merely shook his head and returned to Barrachius’ earlier question. [Color=Plum]“We came from Huetown, and we came by foot. It is a few miles back as you no doubt know. Will Ischarus be able to walk it?”[/Color] Barrachius looked once more at Ischarus, looked deeply into his eyes, and then motioned for the prison healer to remove the bed sheet covering Ischarus’ wounded leg. The healer and Barrachius each examined the healed leg in silence and then Barrachius gave his diagnosis. [Color=Lime]“I would advise against it. The leg might well be healed, but the remaining pain from the original wound and the healing may well cause a significant limp. If the limp is pronounced over too much time it could cause more serious muscle damage. I would recommend leaving Ischarus here and returning with a horse. Ischarus should be able to ride a horse so long as the horse is kept from trotting or galloping. Of course, a fast moving horse would require Ischarus to use his leg.”[/Color] Ischarus sighed, knowing that by this time in the day there was no way that he would be returning to Huetown this evening. That most likely meant finding an inn and staying in it alone so that the other three could return in the evening and be back by morning with the horses. The prison healer spoke. There was a tone present which told of a desire to finish up this visit in her smooth voice. [Color=Lime]“I would concur with Barrachius’ opinion. Stay off the leg except for short moments of walking. Rest it often and refrain from applying ice or heat if possible. Just let it heal and allow the pain and stiffness to leave the leg. If there is nothing else, I believe you are free to go. The guards in the hallway will retrieve your items and show you out.”[/Color] Ischarus swallowed hard, wondering how he would feel sitting up for the first time since he had grown sick. He managed to sit up well but winced in pain as he slid to his feet and off the healer’s table. Semeion and Charis each rushed to opposite sides of Ischarus and grabbed an elbow for support. Ischarus’ hands instinctively grabbed onto both Semeion and Charis as they offered support. Slowly he made his way to the door. Outside the room, the guards had already assembled Ischarus’ equipment – including the sword that had been taken from him earlier by the city guard. They coolly dismissed Ischarus and showed him the door that led back to the narrow lobby. Once the three party members and Barrachius had entered the lobby the heavy metal door slammed loudly behind them. Ischarus took a moment to make sure his sword was properly in its scabbard and they left the prison behind them. They decided to walk the healer back to the temple in an attempt to find Rhema. Halfway back to the temple, Charis spied Rhema and another man walking in their direction. At about the same time, Rhema saw Charis and Semeion helping Ischarus walk painfully along the street. Rhema sprang forward to greet them all, although her eyes focused especially on Ischarus. Her rush left Brandt several paces behind. Bracchius reached out a hand and stopped Rhema from actually hugging Ischarus. [Color=Lime]“Ma’am, this man is in significant pain from a leg injury. I’ll ask that you not put undo stress upon his wound.”[/Color] Rhema’s smile instantly broke into a look of concern, although Ischarus dismissed her concern quickly. [Color=LightBlue]“I’ll be fine, Rhema. Don’t worry. But tell me, were you successful in retrieving the services of Brandt?[/Color] Brandt’s voice came from behind Rhema. He was still several paces off. [Color=Lime]“Indeed she was, sir. I am assuming you are Ischarus and therefore, in one manner of speaking or another, my kin?”[/Color] Ischarus stopped and allowed Brandt to approach. [Color=LightBlue]“I am the one who sent for you. I have a need to ask you of a favor. And it is a favor that I was told to ask from you specifically.”[/Color] Brandt completed his approach and stood a pace from Ischarus and faced him. Ischarus smiled as he noted Brandt’s cloak and the fact that it was about as indistinct as he expected. [Color=Lime]“I believe that I can help you, then. Rhema was quite informative in telling me of your background. But this is not the time to speak of such things. May I invite you to my office where we can speak much more freely?”[/Color] Ischarus winced at the thought of walking further, and Brandt must have seen the pain. He had overheard the healer’s warning of injuring Ischarus and Brandt offered up a quick amendment to the plan. [Color=Lime]“Perhaps I should be more specific. The invitation would require no more pain on your behalf if you allow me to use a bit of magic.”[/Color] Semeion smiled, genuinely intrigued by any display of magic. Charis likewise smiled, although her appreciation came from seeing the instant excitement on Semeion’s face. Rhema and Bracchius looked relieved at the fact that Ischarus could be temporarily relieved of his pain. Ischarus noted the reactions of his companions and nodded in the affirmative to Brandt. [Color=LightBlue]“I suppose it would disappoint my companions too much to refuse.[/Color] Much to Rhema’s relief, Ischarus allowed a good natured smirk to pass over his face as he spoke. Brandt returned Ischarus’ smirk with a broad grin and extended his hands as he spoke. [Color=Lime]“We must all be in contact with one another. Bracchius, if you desire you may join us.”[/Color] Once the party had joined hands Brandt continued to give directions regarding the magic. [Color=Lime]“As much as I like my secretive lifestyle, I always enjoy performing this spell in the midst of the public. I think it gives them hope in the unimaginable happening. Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.”[/Color] The party began to waver as if the ground beneath them was growing insanely hot and the heat was rising among the party. There was no heat, of course, but the magical effect made it appear as though the simple road grew with insane heat. Soon the wavering quickened and in a flash the party had vanished. [Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section] Back in the prison, Ischarus lay flat on a table in a brightly lit room. There were no windows within the room, but there were more than enough magical lights around the ceiling to light the room brightly. Ischarus squinted as he opened his eyes and saw a fuzzy shadow hovering above him. He spoke softly as he looked into the light. “Am I dead?” Ischarus asked, wondering why his vision was so blurry. He heard a bit of chuckling from around his head. Two of the laughs he recognized, two of the laughs were foreign. One of the familiar chuckles stopped short and spoke up. “No, Ischarus, you are not dead. But you are better off than you were an hour ago.” Ischarus smiled at the sound of Semeion’s voice and immediately replied now that he knew there was a friend in the room. “Your weak voice sounds good to my ears. Can I assume that if you are here that I am free?” Ischarus realized his eyesight was returning to normal as Charis leaned over him and spoke softly. Her face was much more recognizable than Semeion’s fuzzy shadow that had stood over him a few moments ago. Her long hair cast a shadow along Charis’ face, but Ischarus was seeing well enough to recognize her smile. “We were able to bring the healer from the temple here to verify your story. Captain Jacobseille said something about an armed conflict in the bowels of the prison that combined with the testimony of the healer assured him of your freedom?” An unfamiliar voice to Ischarus spoke. The voice was soft and fragile, and his ears thought they picked up a slight pattern of speech that was also used to speaking in the tongue of the Elves. “The patient was brought to me just before you arrived. Fortunately I was able to relieve him of his consciousness before beginning the magical process of healing his wounds. The sickness vanished on its own in due time. With the greater healing power of Barrachius from the temple, we were able to fix your leg completely. No doubt that there will be stiffness for even a few weeks, but you should be able to walk on it.” The other unfamiliar voice spoke, although as the man spoke Iscahrus was able to place the voice as belonging to the healer Barrachius from the temple. “It would seem that I have been able to repay you for your generous donation to the cause of our mutual god. I consider it an honor to have been used in that regard. Now, as to your leg, I would recommend staying off of it except light travel for a few days. Where is it that you said you were from?” Ischarus spoke, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy as the pain from his leg clouded his mind. “Huetown. And we …” Ischarus’ speech was interrupted by a knock at the door. Without being invited in, the door opened and both Captain Jacobseille and Warden Farette strutted confidently into the room. “Is he healed and awake?” The warden asked flatly without any real care for Ischarus’ condition. The prison’s healer nodded and replied in her fair voice. “He is healed, awake, and no doubt in considerable pain.” The warden brushed off the last part of the healer’s sentence and marched to the table over top of Ischarus. “We have good news for you, Ischarus. Thanks to your planned stunt below, we have been able to interrogate the man you call Grick more thoroughly and convincingly. It would seem that he comes from Quehalost. And it would seem that you have spent some time there yourself.” The warden looked up from Ischarus and glanced at Charis and Semeion along the other side of the table where Ischarus lay. “I assume that your work in Quehalost is honorable and it is you honor that has brought Grick’s wrath upon you. I would pray that you have not brought the attention of a red wyrm upon our city for dishonorable means. And I should not need to remind you that vigilantism is not a recommended approach to doing business in Fingerdale as far as Lord Ironblood and the city guard is concerned. You are lucky that Grick is such a considerably dangerous criminal.” Ischarus, Semeion, and Charis remained quiet. They did not want to say anything that would allow the warden or the captain of the guard to change their decision regarding Ischarus’ freedom. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Captain Jacobseille spoke. “I would imagine the results of our investigation will be fruitful, especially since you did ask to interview him yourself when we are finished. I am sure that he has a good tale still yet to tell. I can tell you that you will not be allowed to interview him on account of the twice violent encounters between the two of you. However, there is one particular fact that I believe you may not know about Grick. His power does not stem from the normal means of magic – either study or natural talent. His magical power comes from a specific line of breeding that is intentionally passed on from one generation to another. No doubt you know that Grick is a Drakontai. I assume that you can come to the proper conclusion that his heritage plays an important role in his magical ability. It is rumored that the evil dragons of Quehalost indeed keep lines of innate magical users within their service who are bred from their own person. I would consider yourself sufficiently warned in the fact that the red wyrm you angered has sent such a special person in his service to handle you. I would also consider yourselves lucky. The innate magic users of dragons are not known to be this ineffective. You survived this time.” Again Semeion and Charis remained silent. The new information was taking time to sink in. Ischarus was not surprised at all about the information that the captain had given to them. He replied almost immediately to the captain’s assertion. “I thank you for sharing this information with us, Captain. And you have my assurance that so long as we need not protect this town from more minions of the red wyrm that you will likewise neither hear of us again nor trouble your guard with our business.” The warden smirked, knowing that Ischarus and his friends would likely not get so kind a second chance. Captain Jacobseille distinctly leaned over Ischarus’ face as he lay horizontal on the table and spoke directly to Ischarus. “I would hope that you have the intelligence of alerting my city guard next time you are confronted with minions of the red wyrm.” Ischarus closed his eyes in understanding and chose not to speak further. He had pressed his luck and was in no position to make demands. From where he lay, the prison cells were easier to reach than the freedom of outside. After another awkward silence, Warden Farette motioned to Captain Jacobseille and they left the room. The prison healer relaxed upon their exit and gave Semeion a questioned look. Semeion merely shook his head and returned to Barrachius’ earlier question. “We came from Huetown, and we came by foot. It is a few miles back as you no doubt know. Will Ischarus be able to walk it?” Barrachius looked once more at Ischarus, looked deeply into his eyes, and then motioned for the prison healer to remove the bed sheet covering Ischarus’ wounded leg. The healer and Barrachius each examined the healed leg in silence and then Barrachius gave his diagnosis. “I would advise against it. The leg might well be healed, but the remaining pain from the original wound and the healing may well cause a significant limp. If the limp is pronounced over too much time it could cause more serious muscle damage. I would recommend leaving Ischarus here and returning with a horse. Ischarus should be able to ride a horse so long as the horse is kept from trotting or galloping. Of course, a fast moving horse would require Ischarus to use his leg.” Ischarus sighed, knowing that by this time in the day there was no way that he would be returning to Huetown this evening. That most likely meant finding an inn and staying in it alone so that the other three could return in the evening and be back by morning with the horses. The prison healer spoke. There was a tone present which told of a desire to finish up this visit in her smooth voice. “I would concur with Barrachius’ opinion. Stay off the leg except for short moments of walking. Rest it often and refrain from applying ice or heat if possible. Just let it heal and allow the pain and stiffness to leave the leg. If there is nothing else, I believe you are free to go. The guards in the hallway will retrieve your items and show you out.” Ischarus swallowed hard, wondering how he would feel sitting up for the first time since he had grown sick. He managed to sit up well but winced in pain as he slid to his feet and off the healer’s table. Semeion and Charis each rushed to opposite sides of Ischarus and grabbed an elbow for support. Ischarus’ hands instinctively grabbed onto both Semeion and Charis as they offered support. Slowly he made his way to the door. Outside the room, the guards had already assembled Ischarus’ equipment – including the sword that had been taken from him earlier by the city guard. They coolly dismissed Ischarus and showed him the door that led back to the narrow lobby. Once the three party members and Barrachius had entered the lobby the heavy metal door slammed loudly behind them. Ischarus took a moment to make sure his sword was properly in its scabbard and they left the prison behind them. They decided to walk the healer back to the temple in an attempt to find Rhema. Halfway back to the temple, Charis spied Rhema and another man walking in their direction. At about the same time, Rhema saw Charis and Semeion helping Ischarus walk painfully along the street. Rhema sprang forward to greet them all, although her eyes focused especially on Ischarus. Her rush left Brandt several paces behind. Bracchius reached out a hand and stopped Rhema from actually hugging Ischarus. “Ma’am, this man is in significant pain from a leg injury. I’ll ask that you not put undo stress upon his wound.” Rhema’s smile instantly broke into a look of concern, although Ischarus dismissed her concern quickly. “I’ll be fine, Rhema. Don’t worry. But tell me, were you successful in retrieving the services of Brandt? Brandt’s voice came from behind Rhema. He was still several paces off. “Indeed she was, sir. I am assuming you are Ischarus and therefore, in one manner of speaking or another, my kin?” Ischarus stopped and allowed Brandt to approach. “I am the one who sent for you. I have a need to ask you of a favor. And it is a favor that I was told to ask from you specifically.” Brandt completed his approach and stood a pace from Ischarus and faced him. Ischarus smiled as he noted Brandt’s cloak and the fact that it was about as indistinct as he expected. “I believe that I can help you, then. Rhema was quite informative in telling me of your background. But this is not the time to speak of such things. May I invite you to my office where we can speak much more freely?” Ischarus winced at the thought of walking further, and Brandt must have seen the pain. He had overheard the healer’s warning of injuring Ischarus and Brandt offered up a quick amendment to the plan. “Perhaps I should be more specific. The invitation would require no more pain on your behalf if you allow me to use a bit of magic.” Semeion smiled, genuinely intrigued by any display of magic. Charis likewise smiled, although her appreciation came from seeing the instant excitement on Semeion’s face. Rhema and Bracchius looked relieved at the fact that Ischarus could be temporarily relieved of his pain. Ischarus noted the reactions of his companions and nodded in the affirmative to Brandt. “I suppose it would disappoint my companions too much to refuse. Much to Rhema’s relief, Ischarus allowed a good natured smirk to pass over his face as he spoke. Brandt returned Ischarus’ smirk with a broad grin and extended his hands as he spoke. “We must all be in contact with one another. Bracchius, if you desire you may join us.” Once the party had joined hands Brandt continued to give directions regarding the magic. “As much as I like my secretive lifestyle, I always enjoy performing this spell in the midst of the public. I think it gives them hope in the unimaginable happening. Placilicuhn ul-Tactum.” The party began to waver as if the ground beneath them was growing insanely hot and the heat was rising among the party. There was no heat, of course, but the magical effect made it appear as though the simple road grew with insane heat. Soon the wavering quickened and in a flash the party had vanished.[/Sblock] [/QUOTE]
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