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Scarred Lands: None Dare Call Them Heroes (updated 12/07/03)
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<blockquote data-quote="jonrog1" data-source="post: 853145" data-attributes="member: 189"><p><strong>CH. 6: "Wherein our heroes drink whiffy beer and grudgingly participate in a hoary plot device." </strong></p><p></p><p>Even Argent, pressed as he was to save the lives of the soldiers, paused to watch Vivian Godwyn's blood seep through needle-thin channels within Rupert's glass arm. One by one, small dials turned. One bit of the blood reached a tiny spinning gear and was split into a thicker red goo and a clear fluid. Reactive parchments inserted in the path of the blood smeared in rainbows of colors as impurities were drawn out --</p><p></p><p>"BLOODY HELL! Boiling water NOW!" Rupert grabbed a pot from a passing servant girl. With his teeth he flipped open a purge valve below his shoulder and flooded the arm with the scalding water. He waited until every bit of the young woman's blood was thoroughly washed from his system. His mild voice was back. "Going to take me two days to reset this thing." He sighed, gestured the party to the bar. "Right, you know what spell-resistance is?"</p><p></p><p>Most of the group shrugged. Alec nodded. "Some creatures are unaffected by the energies of Mesos, the fallen titan of magic."</p><p></p><p>"Precisely. I'm thinking of relatives of the Asathi in particular, the Yuan-ti. Anyway ..." Rupert poured what was left of the boiling water from the pot into a teacup. " ... someone's combined yuan-ti blood with a neuro-toxin, and then <em>altered</em> it. Not only is the poison resistant to magical healing, magical energies set of a chain reaction within the toxin, accelerating its effects."</p><p></p><p>Indigo nodded. Then she shook her head. "I know those were sentences, because you stopped at the end. But what?"</p><p></p><p>Kirby gestured for the barkeep, Ronin, but answered Indigo. "Magic kills her faster. Rupert here's got to go <em>gnomo-a-mano</em> with his alchemical abilites." When the pudgy bartender arrived Kirby flipped down a few gold coins he'd pulled off dead men on the battlefield. "Whatever you've got that passes for beer." Ronin's eyes widened with almost supernatural delight. Clutching the gold like a secret lover, he scurried away.</p><p></p><p>"I can't beat that toxin, not with what I've got here." Rupert looked to Alec again. "I'm going to do research. Can you think of anything?"</p><p></p><p>Alec sighed. Most people had no idea what it meant to draw on bardic lore. Hundreds of years of information were encoded in mnemonic devices and stories, to be unraveled when needed. But once he tugged one end, he'd have to plow through all of it in a semi-hypnotic state. After his time on the battlefield and the journey ... but he simply nodded. "Going to need a room."</p><p></p><p>"I think we can handle that, mates!" Ronin was back with three pitchers of a semi-solid, muddy orange beer. It ... <em>glopped</em> as it fell into their glasses. "Bringing such fine news and heroism, asy'are, and coinage too, we'll give you the finest Cambragia has to offer."</p><p></p><p>Rupert left to begin his research. The party, exhausted, all took a long sip of their beers. They stopped, stared into the mugs. "It has a ... musty aftertaste," ventured Taggart.</p><p></p><p>"Well, we dinnae have much room here in the encampment, so we ferment it back with the fertilizin' pond Rupert set up." Ronin grinned at his ingenuity.</p><p></p><p>It took them a moment. "We're drinking sh*t beer," Taggart said flatly. </p><p></p><p>Ronin shrugged. "Would nae say that. It's just beer, but with a healthy cut of manure in the barley mix, and a bit o' methane in the tubs."</p><p></p><p>The group looked at each other. Then, as one, they shrugged too. Three years of warfare. Beer was beer.</p><p></p><p></p><p>******************************</p><p></p><p></p><p>Taggart pulled at his brother's robes. "Come on, its past midnight. At least eat." The rest of the party was resting. The innkeeper and his wife were abed. Only the eager scullery-boy Zed was up. He waited at Taggart's side, vibrating with hero worship. </p><p></p><p>Argent finally let himself be pulled away from the wounded. He sat at the bar. He tasted the bread, then guiltily chawed it down. "I knew you were alive."</p><p></p><p>"Well, you were almost wrong more times than I can count." Taggart rummaged around for tobacco. Zed immediately presented him with a filled pipe. "I see the orphanage lessons of the Sisters of Madriel took."</p><p></p><p>"Not just their lessons, blessed as they are. From them I took my spiritual path. But once I was out in the world, well ..." Argent nodded to the short-spear leaning against the wall. "What was it that Mother Elizabeth always said?"</p><p></p><p>"'You can get more with a sharp blade and a kind word than a kind word alone,' I believe," Taggart chuckled. "How old was she when she finally passed?"</p><p></p><p>"Still alive."</p><p></p><p>"No bloody way. She'd be a wight by now." Taggart put his feet up on a table, leaned back. A comfortable silence descended. "Gods, weren't for the scar tissue on my back and that ridiculous beard of yours, you'd think I never left."</p><p></p><p>"Family's that way," Argent answered. </p><p></p><p>Taggart was about to snap something back, but he just let it sit. <em>He may have something there ...</em> "So what holy mission have you accepted in the Goddess's name?"</p><p></p><p>Argent swelled a bit. "I hunt the undead."</p><p></p><p>Taggart swelled a bit too. Pretty tough job that, and his brother ... well, they wrote stories about such men. "And your second discipline?"</p><p></p><p>At that Argent hesitated. "You know, the land has suffered greatly under the war."</p><p></p><p>Taggart cocked his head. "Oh, healing or some such? Of course, the aid station --"</p><p></p><p>"We'll never rebuild the beauty of Ghelspad for the Goddess without considering her bountiful nature. And look at the damage the blood of Mormo has wrought, the Haggard Hills, the Hornsaw Forest ..."</p><p></p><p>Taggart clued in. Argent stared at him, <em>daring</em> him to say anything. Taggart knew he shouldn't.</p><p></p><p>But it was his brother.</p><p></p><p>"Your second domain is <em><strong>plants</strong></em>?" Argent gritted his teeth as Taggart laughed and laughed. Oh, he'd apologize later. But for now, he'd enjoy coming up with elf-sounding girlie nicknames to torment Argent. </p><p></p><p></p><p>******************************</p><p></p><p></p><p>Dawn broke bright the next morning. More of the surviving villagers of Cambragia clustered around the inn. Although they had nothing to do with the end of the supernatural raintorms, the party's arrival was now linked with the village's relief. Taggart was at the bar eating Myrna's surprisingly good pancakes, watching his brother check up on his patients. Kirby and Alec thudded down the stairs from the second-floor boarding rooms. Taggart rolled his eyes. Somehow, even in a wrecked village in a war zone, Kirby had found someone to wash and starch his velvet vest and crisp white shirt. Even his boots were shined. His long coat was mended and folded crisply over one arm. Kirby could have walked straight out of that wrecked shell-hole and into the finest gaming house in Darakeene.</p><p></p><p>"How'd you sleep?" Taggart asked Kirby.</p><p></p><p>"Couldn't sleep on the bed," Kirby frowned. "Too many months in the dirt. Wound up sleeping on the floor. Where's the Oathblade?"</p><p></p><p>"Outside, doing her blade-dance. Sword's almost as big as she is." Taggart seemed thoughtful as he crammed more stale bread inot his mouth. "Aren't Oathblades supposed to be Veshian royalty? She doesn't seem the part."</p><p></p><p>Alec tested the Shelzari coffee. Hmmph, must be a side benefit of a Shelzari inn-keeper. Finding it flavorless but pleasantly filth-free, he gulped it. "Indigo won it through trial of combat." He smiled at their surprise. "Yes, just a merchant family, and a young woman no less, toe to toe with a dozen full-blood warriors and she was the last standing. Only happened twice in the last century. That story was why I was looking for her in the trenches --"</p><p></p><p>"The apple." They turned to see Rupert standing behind and below them. He was looking to Alec for confirmation. </p><p></p><p>Alec nodded. In a voice eerily similar to the bard from whom he'd learned the story, he repeated: <em><strong>"Not of magic nor of gods, matter mixed to perfect pitch, balanced both life and death within a single twisted limb ..."</strong></em></p><p></p><p>Rupert waved him off. He paused as Indigo entered. She was pulling her white blouse on over her leather bustier-armor. If she'd been doing her sword exercises like that, no wonder there'd been a crowd ... "The gods or fate smile on us. Alchemists write of an apple which when consumed can cure any illness. The apple is not magical -- its power is all contained in its breeding and perfect alchemical balance. That apple was sold once a year in a remote village called Oakhurst." He paused for effect. "Remote to the rest of Ghelspad, as it was situated in the Blood Steppes. Four days southeast from here."</p><p></p><p>Argent bowed his head. "Blessed be the wisdom of Madriel who has led us here to this refuge of all refuges, where one so knowledgeable --"</p><p></p><p>Taggart responded around another mouthful of pancakes. "Enjoy your trip to Oakhurst. I'm sure it's another charming smoking ruin in the wastes." Argent punched him in the shoulder. "OWW! Whaaattt?"</p><p></p><p>Alec pulled out a map of the Blood Steppes. "You know, one of the mysteries of the war was why the Bandit King never swung south towards Calastia. Oakhurst may have been within the protected zone."</p><p></p><p>"There should be a sizable reward," Rupert continued.</p><p></p><p>"From a royal family who can't even rescue their youngest daughter from behind titanspawn lines, they're supposed to find us and PAY us?" Taggart shook his head. "No bloody way --"</p><p></p><p>Argent took him by the shoulders. "Brother, this is why fate returned us to each other. This is why we found this girl."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, I'm supposed to rescue her?"</p><p></p><p>"No. But I'm going for that apple. A quest I would certainly not survive alone. You're here so you can keep me alive."</p><p></p><p>Taggart bit off his sarcastic retort. Kirby piped in. "You know, it would be nice if the last ten years of our lives involving slavery, torture, and learning the dark ways of crime, stealth and brutal close-up fighting were somehow justified as training for this moment." Taggart stared at him. "I know, I know, ridiculous. But I would sleep easier."</p><p></p><p>Indigo didn't even pause. She took the map, headed out the door. "The old soldier rests because he believes I guard his young charge. This I cannot betray. Also, how long has it been since the battle?"</p><p></p><p>"Half a tenday," Alec answered.</p><p></p><p>"I hate to go an entire week without killing something. I get rusty. I'll be back with the horses."</p><p></p><p></p><p>*****************************</p><p></p><p></p><p>And so, a half-hour later, with what was left of Cambragia cheering at their backs, the party rode out from Olaf's obsessively murderous gates and into the blinding blood-red cliffs of the Steppes. Argent and Indigo rode at the head, Argent proudly riding tall in his saddle, shining spear at the ready. Alec was in the center scribbling in his notebook. Kirby and Taggart brought up the rear, cloaks and dusters wrapped around them. The front of the party looked as if it were on parade. The rear stunk of smuggler's habits.</p><p></p><p>Alec chuckled. "What?" Taggart grumbled.</p><p></p><p>"We're a party of adventurers who just accepted a job while at an inn." Alec shook his head. "Going to have to change this when I tell the story. No one's going to believe it actually happened."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="jonrog1, post: 853145, member: 189"] [b]CH. 6: "Wherein our heroes drink whiffy beer and grudgingly participate in a hoary plot device." [/b] Even Argent, pressed as he was to save the lives of the soldiers, paused to watch Vivian Godwyn's blood seep through needle-thin channels within Rupert's glass arm. One by one, small dials turned. One bit of the blood reached a tiny spinning gear and was split into a thicker red goo and a clear fluid. Reactive parchments inserted in the path of the blood smeared in rainbows of colors as impurities were drawn out -- "BLOODY HELL! Boiling water NOW!" Rupert grabbed a pot from a passing servant girl. With his teeth he flipped open a purge valve below his shoulder and flooded the arm with the scalding water. He waited until every bit of the young woman's blood was thoroughly washed from his system. His mild voice was back. "Going to take me two days to reset this thing." He sighed, gestured the party to the bar. "Right, you know what spell-resistance is?" Most of the group shrugged. Alec nodded. "Some creatures are unaffected by the energies of Mesos, the fallen titan of magic." "Precisely. I'm thinking of relatives of the Asathi in particular, the Yuan-ti. Anyway ..." Rupert poured what was left of the boiling water from the pot into a teacup. " ... someone's combined yuan-ti blood with a neuro-toxin, and then [i]altered[/i] it. Not only is the poison resistant to magical healing, magical energies set of a chain reaction within the toxin, accelerating its effects." Indigo nodded. Then she shook her head. "I know those were sentences, because you stopped at the end. But what?" Kirby gestured for the barkeep, Ronin, but answered Indigo. "Magic kills her faster. Rupert here's got to go [i]gnomo-a-mano[/i] with his alchemical abilites." When the pudgy bartender arrived Kirby flipped down a few gold coins he'd pulled off dead men on the battlefield. "Whatever you've got that passes for beer." Ronin's eyes widened with almost supernatural delight. Clutching the gold like a secret lover, he scurried away. "I can't beat that toxin, not with what I've got here." Rupert looked to Alec again. "I'm going to do research. Can you think of anything?" Alec sighed. Most people had no idea what it meant to draw on bardic lore. Hundreds of years of information were encoded in mnemonic devices and stories, to be unraveled when needed. But once he tugged one end, he'd have to plow through all of it in a semi-hypnotic state. After his time on the battlefield and the journey ... but he simply nodded. "Going to need a room." "I think we can handle that, mates!" Ronin was back with three pitchers of a semi-solid, muddy orange beer. It ... [i]glopped[/i] as it fell into their glasses. "Bringing such fine news and heroism, asy'are, and coinage too, we'll give you the finest Cambragia has to offer." Rupert left to begin his research. The party, exhausted, all took a long sip of their beers. They stopped, stared into the mugs. "It has a ... musty aftertaste," ventured Taggart. "Well, we dinnae have much room here in the encampment, so we ferment it back with the fertilizin' pond Rupert set up." Ronin grinned at his ingenuity. It took them a moment. "We're drinking sh*t beer," Taggart said flatly. Ronin shrugged. "Would nae say that. It's just beer, but with a healthy cut of manure in the barley mix, and a bit o' methane in the tubs." The group looked at each other. Then, as one, they shrugged too. Three years of warfare. Beer was beer. ****************************** Taggart pulled at his brother's robes. "Come on, its past midnight. At least eat." The rest of the party was resting. The innkeeper and his wife were abed. Only the eager scullery-boy Zed was up. He waited at Taggart's side, vibrating with hero worship. Argent finally let himself be pulled away from the wounded. He sat at the bar. He tasted the bread, then guiltily chawed it down. "I knew you were alive." "Well, you were almost wrong more times than I can count." Taggart rummaged around for tobacco. Zed immediately presented him with a filled pipe. "I see the orphanage lessons of the Sisters of Madriel took." "Not just their lessons, blessed as they are. From them I took my spiritual path. But once I was out in the world, well ..." Argent nodded to the short-spear leaning against the wall. "What was it that Mother Elizabeth always said?" "'You can get more with a sharp blade and a kind word than a kind word alone,' I believe," Taggart chuckled. "How old was she when she finally passed?" "Still alive." "No bloody way. She'd be a wight by now." Taggart put his feet up on a table, leaned back. A comfortable silence descended. "Gods, weren't for the scar tissue on my back and that ridiculous beard of yours, you'd think I never left." "Family's that way," Argent answered. Taggart was about to snap something back, but he just let it sit. [i]He may have something there ...[/i] "So what holy mission have you accepted in the Goddess's name?" Argent swelled a bit. "I hunt the undead." Taggart swelled a bit too. Pretty tough job that, and his brother ... well, they wrote stories about such men. "And your second discipline?" At that Argent hesitated. "You know, the land has suffered greatly under the war." Taggart cocked his head. "Oh, healing or some such? Of course, the aid station --" "We'll never rebuild the beauty of Ghelspad for the Goddess without considering her bountiful nature. And look at the damage the blood of Mormo has wrought, the Haggard Hills, the Hornsaw Forest ..." Taggart clued in. Argent stared at him, [i]daring[/i] him to say anything. Taggart knew he shouldn't. But it was his brother. "Your second domain is [i][b]plants[/b][/i][b][/b]?" Argent gritted his teeth as Taggart laughed and laughed. Oh, he'd apologize later. But for now, he'd enjoy coming up with elf-sounding girlie nicknames to torment Argent. ****************************** Dawn broke bright the next morning. More of the surviving villagers of Cambragia clustered around the inn. Although they had nothing to do with the end of the supernatural raintorms, the party's arrival was now linked with the village's relief. Taggart was at the bar eating Myrna's surprisingly good pancakes, watching his brother check up on his patients. Kirby and Alec thudded down the stairs from the second-floor boarding rooms. Taggart rolled his eyes. Somehow, even in a wrecked village in a war zone, Kirby had found someone to wash and starch his velvet vest and crisp white shirt. Even his boots were shined. His long coat was mended and folded crisply over one arm. Kirby could have walked straight out of that wrecked shell-hole and into the finest gaming house in Darakeene. "How'd you sleep?" Taggart asked Kirby. "Couldn't sleep on the bed," Kirby frowned. "Too many months in the dirt. Wound up sleeping on the floor. Where's the Oathblade?" "Outside, doing her blade-dance. Sword's almost as big as she is." Taggart seemed thoughtful as he crammed more stale bread inot his mouth. "Aren't Oathblades supposed to be Veshian royalty? She doesn't seem the part." Alec tested the Shelzari coffee. Hmmph, must be a side benefit of a Shelzari inn-keeper. Finding it flavorless but pleasantly filth-free, he gulped it. "Indigo won it through trial of combat." He smiled at their surprise. "Yes, just a merchant family, and a young woman no less, toe to toe with a dozen full-blood warriors and she was the last standing. Only happened twice in the last century. That story was why I was looking for her in the trenches --" "The apple." They turned to see Rupert standing behind and below them. He was looking to Alec for confirmation. Alec nodded. In a voice eerily similar to the bard from whom he'd learned the story, he repeated: [i][b]"Not of magic nor of gods, matter mixed to perfect pitch, balanced both life and death within a single twisted limb ..."[/b][/i][b][/b] Rupert waved him off. He paused as Indigo entered. She was pulling her white blouse on over her leather bustier-armor. If she'd been doing her sword exercises like that, no wonder there'd been a crowd ... "The gods or fate smile on us. Alchemists write of an apple which when consumed can cure any illness. The apple is not magical -- its power is all contained in its breeding and perfect alchemical balance. That apple was sold once a year in a remote village called Oakhurst." He paused for effect. "Remote to the rest of Ghelspad, as it was situated in the Blood Steppes. Four days southeast from here." Argent bowed his head. "Blessed be the wisdom of Madriel who has led us here to this refuge of all refuges, where one so knowledgeable --" Taggart responded around another mouthful of pancakes. "Enjoy your trip to Oakhurst. I'm sure it's another charming smoking ruin in the wastes." Argent punched him in the shoulder. "OWW! Whaaattt?" Alec pulled out a map of the Blood Steppes. "You know, one of the mysteries of the war was why the Bandit King never swung south towards Calastia. Oakhurst may have been within the protected zone." "There should be a sizable reward," Rupert continued. "From a royal family who can't even rescue their youngest daughter from behind titanspawn lines, they're supposed to find us and PAY us?" Taggart shook his head. "No bloody way --" Argent took him by the shoulders. "Brother, this is why fate returned us to each other. This is why we found this girl." "Oh, I'm supposed to rescue her?" "No. But I'm going for that apple. A quest I would certainly not survive alone. You're here so you can keep me alive." Taggart bit off his sarcastic retort. Kirby piped in. "You know, it would be nice if the last ten years of our lives involving slavery, torture, and learning the dark ways of crime, stealth and brutal close-up fighting were somehow justified as training for this moment." Taggart stared at him. "I know, I know, ridiculous. But I would sleep easier." Indigo didn't even pause. She took the map, headed out the door. "The old soldier rests because he believes I guard his young charge. This I cannot betray. Also, how long has it been since the battle?" "Half a tenday," Alec answered. "I hate to go an entire week without killing something. I get rusty. I'll be back with the horses." ***************************** And so, a half-hour later, with what was left of Cambragia cheering at their backs, the party rode out from Olaf's obsessively murderous gates and into the blinding blood-red cliffs of the Steppes. Argent and Indigo rode at the head, Argent proudly riding tall in his saddle, shining spear at the ready. Alec was in the center scribbling in his notebook. Kirby and Taggart brought up the rear, cloaks and dusters wrapped around them. The front of the party looked as if it were on parade. The rear stunk of smuggler's habits. Alec chuckled. "What?" Taggart grumbled. "We're a party of adventurers who just accepted a job while at an inn." Alec shook his head. "Going to have to change this when I tell the story. No one's going to believe it actually happened." [/QUOTE]
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