Off to War - Duet (Jareth)

[Dragonwriter]

Straining his shoulder, Jareth reaches up to the hooked talon on the chain's end. Who the hell is down here with me? With a chain, no less?!?

The young man tries to grasp it and pull himself up, putting aside questions for the moment.

 

[HolyMan]

Jareth tries to pull himself up but it is useless."I'm... I'm not strong enough. I need someone to help pull me out." he says knowing whoever is up there isn't in any condition to help.

"Hold." comes the voice in a croaky whisper, as the chain shakes. Jareth reaches up with his hand and holds onto the chain. A tug on it makes him look up at the bloodied hand.

And to his amazement a white glow forms around the the far end of the chain and moves quickly down the links towards Jareth's hand. Before he can let go he feels a tingle of the magic that was just casted. He feels no pain as he would exspect but instead his hands, his arms and legs, even his chest muscles feel tighter and... stronger?

Jareth reaches for the chain again and starts to pull and slowly he rises out of the wedge he is in, he pulls harder and as he does he hears a grunt from above. He ignores it happy with this new found strength.

[sblock=OOC] There you go, casted Bull's Strength on you so you now have a +5 modifier and can take 20 to match the DC. Please climb out but leave what's up top for me, . [/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

The young man feels the surge of physical power, wondering at it. Magic. Must be trained... He shakes his head. Can't focus on that now... Must get free. Must climb.

Fighting against his weakness, real or imagined, he knows not which, Jareth grips the chain and struggles, lifting himself past the former limit of his strength. He feels as though his arm will give out, tear away, pull itself free from his shoulder and body, sending him cascading through the darkness below. His legs and pinned right arm scream in protest, trapped in the unwelcome embrace of the stones. He pushes back the urge to cry out, knowing he must endure. For himself. For his purpose. For Tharivol's life. For his own family...

The thought once again brings old memories to the surface. He brushes aside the face of his father, focusing on his mother, brother and sisters. He knows he must get free, find them, save them. With a growing growl, he pulls harder on the chain, ignoring the agony of freeing his trapped limbs. With an increasing sense of power and sureness, he makes his way up the chain and crests the edge, heaving a mighty breath after pulling himself over. His face still pressed to the slope, he mutters a "Thank... you..." between gasps.

 

[HolyMan]

Jareth moves his lights to illuminate the dark form a few feet from the cliff edge. He sees the chain stretch up across his stomach a wicked looking three pronged claw like grapple attacked to the end digs deeply into his side.

He must have used that to brace the chain. He knew he wasn't strong enough to help pull me up. Jareth thinks in horror, noticing the three long gouges in his stomach and a pool of blood forming.

The light shines on the man's features and he febblely brings an arm up to keep it out of his eyes. And Jareth stares in shock... his head spins, his insides twist... as the light reveals the long pointed chin, high cheek bones and sharp nose. And most telling of all the long pointed ears on the side of his bald head... not a man then but an elf and not just any elf, one of the Treylor.

[sblock=OOC] Been great but I need to be at work in 6.5 hours will continue this later. [/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

Jareth gasps in surprise, mind unable to determine whether he should be angry, fearful or grateful. He saved my life, knowing I was human...

He gets into a crouch, but the look on his face remains one of shock. He takes a breath and idly reaches his left hand to rub his right shoulder, pained as it is. After a few seconds, he manages a choked, "Why?" It may not be the most eloquent or clear of inquiries, but it is all he can manage as he needs to know why this enemy soldier saved his life.

And if this soldier would save his enemy, what of the others? Damn! Don't tell me they're all this miserably noble!

[sblock=OOC]
How badly injured does he seem to be?
And did climbing the chain give me another injury, or was that just descriptive/flavor text?
[/sblock]

 

[HolyMan]

"Jholi'selia." the elf whispers is head rolling away from looking into Jareth's eyes. "Live ..."

The rest is lost as the last breath of the elf warrior leaves his lips and his eyes fix on the ceiling open but forever dark.

[sblock=OOC] Sorry DW he is dead but not for no reason. Need to see you in the OOC so we can talk about what we wish to do from here. [/sblock]

 

[Dragonwriter]

In a sudden frenzy, Jareth shouts out. He reaches for the now-dead elf, grabs the man's corpse and shakes him. A scream of, "Why did you save me?" echoes through the cavern, Jareth unaware of his own exclamation. He fumbles at the potion on his belt, not wanting to accept this elf died saving him. A death rattle looses him from the fantasy, his face goes white in the already-pale light of the magic orbs.

With a shudder, he releases the body of the man. Too much death around me... Life, he said. I need to get out of here. The young man gives a salute to the dead elf and utters a short blessing in the Elven dialect he learned years ago. He stands shakily, about to leave when he hears the sliding rattle of the chain links. Turning again, he sees it start to unwind and part of it slide for the cliff edge. Without thinking, he steps to it, bends down and frees the grapple on the end and coils it back again. The fiery-haired human steps back to the body of the elf and closes the man's eyes. "You have my thanks. And my regrets..."

Jareth stands back up, chain looped around his waist like a belt and starts climbing up the slope, all the fire in his veins doused and extinguished.

 

[HolyMan]

The next few hours are (and will always be) remembered as a blur to Jareth.

He climbed upward and is helped out of the crevasse, the fur clad man asks after the swordsman but Jareth only remembers shaking his head.

The Treylor were defeated and all killed, the captives rescued and yet that seemed somehow wrong to the young warrior. He followed along as they made thier way back to camp. He didn't speak to a soul or join in the celebration at the irregulars victory over their enemy.

Jareth sat before the fire near Fallon's carts and donkey. He stared into the flames well into the night not noticing the dark coming on. The only thing he could see was the last moments of the Treylor's life and all he could hear where his last words...

"Jholi'selia...?" he whispers to himself.

"Hmm... What? What was that?" Fallon asks with concern in his voice.
_

 

[Dragonwriter]

Perhaps realizing where he is for the first time in hours, Jareth looks up, eyes pained. His mind seemed to wander far, yet always strayed back to, and settled on, the last moments of that Treylor soldier. Will I have another face to haunt me now?

He takes a deep breath, focusing back to Fallon. "Did... Did they tell you what happened today? At the ravine? The earth split open, swallowed one of the warriors and me along with him. I fell into the dark. I don't know how long or how far... Landed in a crevice..." The young man stops. His words don't seem to halfway convey what happened. His eyes glaze over as his mind returns to the crevice in the dark, trapped, unable to see, injured... How long will this remain so?

 

[HolyMan]

"I heard, heard you fell down into the crevasse and then returned with that," Fallon says gesturing to the chain around Jareth's waste.

"Care to tell, tell an old man how you came by it?" he asks concern in his voice. "Or how you came by the injures I cured for you."

[sblock="injures I cured for you"] [/sblock]