Wicht
Hero
Servants of the Swift Sword
Prologue
Alairic sighed as he tried to read the words again. Reading was not the easiest thing in the world anyway and for some reason the sentence was not coming out quite right. Alairic much preferred it when the other clerics would read the stories in “To Serve” to him, or even better, when the minstrels would tell the stories in song or as tales of action. But such was not to be today. He was forced to try to read it himself. Defender Feiloo, Alairic’s teacher of the moment, wanted Alairic to identify three lessons from the account of Guardian Rooki. Rooki had saved several villagers by leaping into the jaws of a dragon and slicing open its stomach. The villagers, who had been eaten whole, could then crawl out. It was a famous story and Alairic would have no problem coming up with three lessons. He was good at application. It was the learning that was hard.
Alairic finished the one sentence and started on the next. But he was soon distracted by the sound of someone outside the temple playing a flute. Closing the book, Alairic looked out to see who was making the music. In the street outside the temple wall, children were running and laughing. An older gnome child was chasing them. The parrot perched outside the store on the other side of the dirt street whistled and called after them, its wings flapping agitatedly.
The flute player was a halfling perched atop a barrel. He was Dilas, the proprietor of the store, and a friend of Alairic’s. He looked up and, noticing Alairic looking down, he waved. Alairic waved back and then prepared to go back to his reading. But before he opened the book again, something else caught his eye. It was a woman, propped against the side of Dilas’s store, her eyes roving over the walls of the temple. A large black bird, a raven perhaps thought Alairic, was perched on her shoulder. Her eyes traveled over the window by which Alairic was seated. For a moment her eyes held his and then she slipped around the side of the store, out of sight.
Alairic closed his eyes and concentrated. Naemae had blessed him with a second sight and he used it now. He opened his eyes and looked again. As he suspected, there was a tinge of evil remaining in the spot where the woman had stood. She was obviously someone up to no good. Guardian Deochoo should be told, thought Alairic.
As if on cue, the older man entered the room even as Alairic turned his head away from the window. Dressed as he always was, a steel Breastplate covering his White and Blue robe, Deochoo looked, just as he should, like a venerable warrior-priest. The Servants of the Swift Sword were the only clerics in Xaruum who roamed their own temple fully armed and armored.
“Are you not supposed to be studying,” chided the old man gently, his eyes straying to the closed book.
Alairic turned red and his tongue fumbled over itself as he tried to explain, “Um, I, ah, was, but there was, um, a woman, out, ah, outside.”
“A woman?”
“Um, yes, and, ah, I don’t think she was up to any good.”
Fumbling through the account, Alairic explained what he had seen. Deochoo nodded, smiled and said, “We will look into it. That was very keen of you to notice such a thing, even if, ahem, you were meant to be studying the canon.”
“I am sorry sir,” said Alairic bowing his head penitently.
“That is quite alright,” said Deochoo, “But you must learn to focus better on the tasks at hand. Distraction in the midst of battle can be costly. Better concentration is a skill I would advise you to develop.”
“Yes sir.”
“I meant to tell you though, I have talked it over with Defender Feiloo and he agrees that you know the vows and the funeral rites and that you can make the basic applications of the sacred tales… Furthermore, there is no denying you are one of the best students of the sword here, Defender Dthavin certainly did not fail you there…”
The older man placed a piece of cloth on the table in front of Alairic. It was silk cloth of blue and white diamond patterns in the middle of which was sewn a golden eye, opened and watching. It was the symbol of Naemae.
“You may carry this with you openly,” said Deochoo smiling, “You are now officially a Purifier. There will be a ceremony tonight in your honor.”
“Thank you sir,” said Alairic, a huge grin covering his face. He could picture Dthavin looking on proudly and wondered briefly when he would get a chance to see the grizzled old knight again. He then thought of his mother, knowing he would write her with the news that very night.
“Congratulations,” said Deochoo, clapping the young man on the arms, “and tomorrow, I will want to see you in my office, first thing in the morning. I think it is time for you to take a break from the books and get out of this stuffy old place.”
“Thank you sir!”
“You will need companions of course. I would go with you myself, but I absolutely must finish my treatise on Saint Grigarus.”
“You know,” confided Deochoo to Alairic with a wink, “I once hated reading almost as much as you do now. And now look at me! Writing treatises and commentaries! Give me a sword in my hand and a battle to fight any day! Alas that we should get old!” Giving Alairic one last pat on the arm, the older man smiled and turned to leave.
Alairic smiled broadly as the Guardian walked out. He knew the old man was still a match for any number of men. The acolytes were still talking about the hill-giant the priest had slain only last month.
With a skip of his heart, Alairic suddenly realized he was being sent on a quest in the morning. He wondered who would be sent with him.
*************************
Purifier Tilliana walked back to the Citadel of Truth from the market. She supposed, somewhat self-consciously that she presented an incongruous sight. A petite woman warrior-priest in banded mail (over a white robe), with a huge sword (a foot longer than her body) strapped to her back, carrying in her arms, of all things, a basket full of vegetables.
“Hey, Tilliana,” called out a feminine voice. Tilliana looked over and saw first the gang of children, and then the small woman who was escorting them through the city.
“Hey, Rouna,” called back, Tilliana, walking towards her friend. Rouna wore the blue robe that marked her as a priestess in the Home Foundation. “And how is Reona,’ asked Tilliana, referring to the baby girl that Rouna carried.
“She is doing great, come look.”
Tilliana put her basket down and went over to tickle the child, making cooing noises all the while.
“Farlion! Stay out of Tilliana’s things,” shouted Rouna at one of the boys, “Good news Tilliana, me and Goetai are expecting again! We are hoping for a boy this time, but of course we will take whatever the Holy Mother decides to give us. Mother Roalee tells me though that it will be a boy.”
“I am glad for you,” said Tilliana, “I think you must be braver than I! I can’t imagine having kids yet.”
“You just wait till you get married! ‘Servants’ are allowed to be married aren’t they? I can never remember all the practices of the other faiths, I have enough trouble trying to remember the children’s names!”
“My father was married,” Tilliana reminded her friend.
“Of course he was! Oh, and how is your mother?”
“She’s fine, It was her that sent me to the market,” laughed Tilliana. “One would never know I outrank her in the temple by the way she sends me here and there!”
“One must obey one’s parents,” chided Rouna with a wink.
“I know…hey!” This last exclamation was directed at a young man, who in his rush down the street, had bowled into Tilliana. Tilliana, surprised, was not so startled that she did not feel the slight tug at her hip. Her gloved hand lashed out and caught the young ruffian by the scruff of his tunic and jerked him back.
“Aah,” he shouted, trying to twist free. But Tilliana was stronger than her small stature would seem to indicate and holding him firm, she snapped, “What do you think you are doing, stealing from a lady!”
“I’m sorry!” said the young man, “It was just a joke.”
Tilliana reached over and pried her holy symbol, the silk cloth with the golden eye, from his hands. She had been carrying it at her waist and he had snapped it off.
“Stealing is no joke,” said Rouna sternly, “Especially the theft of something sacred.”
“But it was her friend as told me to do it, he said he wanted it for a joke.”
“My friend?” said Tilliana.
“He was tall, wearing an eye patch, and he had a pet bird, a raven. He said he knew you ma’am and gave me a silver to play a joke on you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean nothing by it. Honest.”
“Somehow I doubt you’re all that honest,” said Tilliana, but nevertheless she believed his story. She released her hold on the back of his collar.
“If you steal from a Servant of the Swift Sword again, I warn you, next time it will not go so easy on you. Now get out of here before I change my mind!” snapped Tilliana, trying to sound savage. The young man complied and ran off across the north bridge.
“I hope you scared him into behaving.” laughed Rouna as she watched him flee, “Who is this ‘friend’ of yours?”
“No one I ever seen,” said Tilliana, sounding puzzled, “Who would want my focus?”
“I would not know. Well, we’ve had enough excitement for one day haven’t we kids,” said Rouna, beginning to herd the children she was watching back together. “Say hello to your mother for me, Tilliana. And I will see you soon I hope?”
“I doubt that,” said Tilliana, as she picked up the large basket again, “Guardian Deochoo told me he was sending me somewhere in the morning. But I will tell mother I saw you. Bring Reona by sometime, Mother likes you and she loves babies.”
“I will,” said Rouna.
***************************
In the smithy at the Citadel of Truth, Niccolo Half-elven was helping Protector Laamak hammer out a new sword when Guardian Deochoo walked in. Laamak , grunted out a greeting to his superior and continued hammering. Niccolo, who was holding one end of the blade still with tongs, simply nodded at the old priest to show he recognized his presence.
Deochoo stood, watching patiently until, at last, Laamak lifted the five foot long blade from the anvil and laid it into a long trough of water. The steam hissed out in a torrent and Laamak nodded pleased.
“Looks good!” said Deochoo pleasantly.
“Aach, should be good,” said the heavier set man, “So what brings you into my smithy? Anything you need?”
“Actually,” said Deochoo, “I came in here to see Niccolo.”
“Me?” asked Niccolo. He had boldly entered the Halls of the Valiant and offered his services to the Servants of the Swift Sword nearly two weeks before. He had been impressed with their doctrine of bravery and their willingness to fight evil physically and passionately. But other then helping in the Smithy, Niccolo had done nothing to fight evil yet.
“Yes, you,” said Deochoo pleasantly, “If I remember right, you told me you had some skill as a tracker?”
“Yes,” said Niccolo.
“Very good, I am sending a group out in the morning and they will need a tracker I think. Please be at my office tomorrow shortly after dawn for details if you would.”
“Certainly, sir!” said the young half-elf pleased.
Deochoo smiled , then turned and left.
“Well then,” said Laamak, with a wry chuckle, “Seems I will be losing some help, we’d better get back to work to make up for you not being here. Why don’t you get the material for the hilt together.”
“Aye,” said Niccolo, returning to work, wondering where he would soon be headed.
*****************************
As Heidon scaled slowly up the outer walls of the Citadel of Truth the only sound to be heard was the footfalls of the sentry atop the wall. The lone sentry, one of the acolytes most likely, walked vigilantly, the moon glinting off of his armor and white robes. He passed above where Heidon was climbing and Heidon froze against the wall. Whether it was because Heidon had chosen his location of ascent well or because the moon did not reflect off of his clothing, the guard did not see him and as he walked on past the point above Heidon, the young thief finished his ascent to the top. In another instant he had dropped softly to the ground and was hidden again in a shadowy corner. Timing his movements carefully so as not to be seen by the sentry, Heidon darted from his hiding place to another hiding place, passing only momentarily through a lit spot of ground and then from there he was in another dark spot below an open and unlit window. The night was warm and the window was open and it was an easy thing for heidon to scale the necessary five feet and slip into the room.
It was a bedchamber and hardly empty. A man lay sleeping in a bed only two feet away from the window. But his snores were more than enough to cover any sounds Heidon made as he padded softly through the room and exited through the door. He was in a short hall, open at both ends. Closing his eyes, Heidon tried to mentally figure out which way he needed to go. Having decided, he opened them again and turned to his right.
He was startled to see a thin old man, not two feet away, dressed in a nightgown staring at him with knowing eyes.
“Wha…” was all that Heidon managed to say before the old man with a surprising amount of strength hit him in the chin with a fierce uppercut.
The lights went out.
When he came back to, Heidon found himself tied to a chair, sitting at a table. His head throbbed and his jaw felt broken. A single candle, resting in the middle of the table lit the room. Heidon looked around and saw that his possessions were in a bundle in a corner of the small room. The door opened and the same old man who had laid him low with a single punch entered the room, no longer in a nightgown, but now in full battle armor and clerical garb.
"Welcome back to the land of the living good sir," said the elderly cleric, "I am Guardian Deochoo and I am in charge of this temple. I must admit that I do not really appreciate being wakened from my sleep by intruders. You have a lot of explaining to do.”
"I’m sorry, I’m sure." sad Heidon thickly.
"Oh, that must still smart, let me see if I can help you."
The cleric reached out a gentle hand and rested it on the side of Heidon’s face. A warmth flowed from hand to cheek and Heidon felt the pain quickly leave. Even his head stopped throbbing.
"Now," said Deochoo, "I want you to tell me why you decided to break into a sacred place and disturb an old man’s sleep. And I warn you that I will know if you are lying to me."
Heidon did not doubt this last statement. He figured to himself that anyone that could move that silently, hit that hard and heal with a touch was a person to be reckoned with. Truth, was, he decided, in this case, the best policy.
"My name’s Heidon. I needed some money and though I didn’t really think it was the best idea in the world, this guy said that if I could sneak in here and nip a few clerical robes and things like that, he would make it well worth my while. He even gave me a few gold to start with, an earnest he said it was."
Deochoo looked steadily at the young man and Heidon found himself continuing, "Well, like I said, I didn’t really want to, but golds gold and foods food and not really seeing much other opportunity at the moment, I took him up on it and nipped in here and that’s when you clocked me."
"What did this man who paid you look like?"
"Well sir, he was about six feet tall, with a peg leg, a hook hand and he called himself captain."
"A colorful description, but one that is true. Your willingness to confess all does you credit. Was there anything else about this man?"
"“He had a bird."
"A bird? What sort, a parrot?"
"No sir. It was a black bird. A big one. It didn’t stay with him, but flew around a bit and he fed it some morsels when he was talking to me, so I figure it was his pet or something."
"Hmm. Would you know this man if you saw him again?"
"Yes sir."
Deochoo strode around the table slowly, one hand to his chin. He seemed to be thinking hard.
"Please sir, what are you going to do with me?"
"Do you have parents young man?"
"Yes sir, but they don’t live here in Xaarum. I left home and somehow just ended up here. Please sir, my mother would be awful upset with me if she ever found out."
"Hmm. Well a punishment is in order. One can’t just let thieves go freely about their business. On the other hand, justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin and you seem redeemable. I shall let you know in the morning what I plan on doing with you. Until then you will stay here. There is a man posted outside the door so even if you let yourself loose from that chair do not entertain any hopes of getting out. My advice for you is to try and get some sleep. It is what I plan on doing. Goodnight young man."
He blew out the candle and closing the door as he exited, Deochoo left Heidon tied to the chair and alone in the dark, worrying about what was going to happen to him.
Prologue
Alairic sighed as he tried to read the words again. Reading was not the easiest thing in the world anyway and for some reason the sentence was not coming out quite right. Alairic much preferred it when the other clerics would read the stories in “To Serve” to him, or even better, when the minstrels would tell the stories in song or as tales of action. But such was not to be today. He was forced to try to read it himself. Defender Feiloo, Alairic’s teacher of the moment, wanted Alairic to identify three lessons from the account of Guardian Rooki. Rooki had saved several villagers by leaping into the jaws of a dragon and slicing open its stomach. The villagers, who had been eaten whole, could then crawl out. It was a famous story and Alairic would have no problem coming up with three lessons. He was good at application. It was the learning that was hard.
Alairic finished the one sentence and started on the next. But he was soon distracted by the sound of someone outside the temple playing a flute. Closing the book, Alairic looked out to see who was making the music. In the street outside the temple wall, children were running and laughing. An older gnome child was chasing them. The parrot perched outside the store on the other side of the dirt street whistled and called after them, its wings flapping agitatedly.
The flute player was a halfling perched atop a barrel. He was Dilas, the proprietor of the store, and a friend of Alairic’s. He looked up and, noticing Alairic looking down, he waved. Alairic waved back and then prepared to go back to his reading. But before he opened the book again, something else caught his eye. It was a woman, propped against the side of Dilas’s store, her eyes roving over the walls of the temple. A large black bird, a raven perhaps thought Alairic, was perched on her shoulder. Her eyes traveled over the window by which Alairic was seated. For a moment her eyes held his and then she slipped around the side of the store, out of sight.
Alairic closed his eyes and concentrated. Naemae had blessed him with a second sight and he used it now. He opened his eyes and looked again. As he suspected, there was a tinge of evil remaining in the spot where the woman had stood. She was obviously someone up to no good. Guardian Deochoo should be told, thought Alairic.
As if on cue, the older man entered the room even as Alairic turned his head away from the window. Dressed as he always was, a steel Breastplate covering his White and Blue robe, Deochoo looked, just as he should, like a venerable warrior-priest. The Servants of the Swift Sword were the only clerics in Xaruum who roamed their own temple fully armed and armored.
“Are you not supposed to be studying,” chided the old man gently, his eyes straying to the closed book.
Alairic turned red and his tongue fumbled over itself as he tried to explain, “Um, I, ah, was, but there was, um, a woman, out, ah, outside.”
“A woman?”
“Um, yes, and, ah, I don’t think she was up to any good.”
Fumbling through the account, Alairic explained what he had seen. Deochoo nodded, smiled and said, “We will look into it. That was very keen of you to notice such a thing, even if, ahem, you were meant to be studying the canon.”
“I am sorry sir,” said Alairic bowing his head penitently.
“That is quite alright,” said Deochoo, “But you must learn to focus better on the tasks at hand. Distraction in the midst of battle can be costly. Better concentration is a skill I would advise you to develop.”
“Yes sir.”
“I meant to tell you though, I have talked it over with Defender Feiloo and he agrees that you know the vows and the funeral rites and that you can make the basic applications of the sacred tales… Furthermore, there is no denying you are one of the best students of the sword here, Defender Dthavin certainly did not fail you there…”
The older man placed a piece of cloth on the table in front of Alairic. It was silk cloth of blue and white diamond patterns in the middle of which was sewn a golden eye, opened and watching. It was the symbol of Naemae.
“You may carry this with you openly,” said Deochoo smiling, “You are now officially a Purifier. There will be a ceremony tonight in your honor.”
“Thank you sir,” said Alairic, a huge grin covering his face. He could picture Dthavin looking on proudly and wondered briefly when he would get a chance to see the grizzled old knight again. He then thought of his mother, knowing he would write her with the news that very night.
“Congratulations,” said Deochoo, clapping the young man on the arms, “and tomorrow, I will want to see you in my office, first thing in the morning. I think it is time for you to take a break from the books and get out of this stuffy old place.”
“Thank you sir!”
“You will need companions of course. I would go with you myself, but I absolutely must finish my treatise on Saint Grigarus.”
“You know,” confided Deochoo to Alairic with a wink, “I once hated reading almost as much as you do now. And now look at me! Writing treatises and commentaries! Give me a sword in my hand and a battle to fight any day! Alas that we should get old!” Giving Alairic one last pat on the arm, the older man smiled and turned to leave.
Alairic smiled broadly as the Guardian walked out. He knew the old man was still a match for any number of men. The acolytes were still talking about the hill-giant the priest had slain only last month.
With a skip of his heart, Alairic suddenly realized he was being sent on a quest in the morning. He wondered who would be sent with him.
*************************
Purifier Tilliana walked back to the Citadel of Truth from the market. She supposed, somewhat self-consciously that she presented an incongruous sight. A petite woman warrior-priest in banded mail (over a white robe), with a huge sword (a foot longer than her body) strapped to her back, carrying in her arms, of all things, a basket full of vegetables.
“Hey, Tilliana,” called out a feminine voice. Tilliana looked over and saw first the gang of children, and then the small woman who was escorting them through the city.
“Hey, Rouna,” called back, Tilliana, walking towards her friend. Rouna wore the blue robe that marked her as a priestess in the Home Foundation. “And how is Reona,’ asked Tilliana, referring to the baby girl that Rouna carried.
“She is doing great, come look.”
Tilliana put her basket down and went over to tickle the child, making cooing noises all the while.
“Farlion! Stay out of Tilliana’s things,” shouted Rouna at one of the boys, “Good news Tilliana, me and Goetai are expecting again! We are hoping for a boy this time, but of course we will take whatever the Holy Mother decides to give us. Mother Roalee tells me though that it will be a boy.”
“I am glad for you,” said Tilliana, “I think you must be braver than I! I can’t imagine having kids yet.”
“You just wait till you get married! ‘Servants’ are allowed to be married aren’t they? I can never remember all the practices of the other faiths, I have enough trouble trying to remember the children’s names!”
“My father was married,” Tilliana reminded her friend.
“Of course he was! Oh, and how is your mother?”
“She’s fine, It was her that sent me to the market,” laughed Tilliana. “One would never know I outrank her in the temple by the way she sends me here and there!”
“One must obey one’s parents,” chided Rouna with a wink.
“I know…hey!” This last exclamation was directed at a young man, who in his rush down the street, had bowled into Tilliana. Tilliana, surprised, was not so startled that she did not feel the slight tug at her hip. Her gloved hand lashed out and caught the young ruffian by the scruff of his tunic and jerked him back.
“Aah,” he shouted, trying to twist free. But Tilliana was stronger than her small stature would seem to indicate and holding him firm, she snapped, “What do you think you are doing, stealing from a lady!”
“I’m sorry!” said the young man, “It was just a joke.”
Tilliana reached over and pried her holy symbol, the silk cloth with the golden eye, from his hands. She had been carrying it at her waist and he had snapped it off.
“Stealing is no joke,” said Rouna sternly, “Especially the theft of something sacred.”
“But it was her friend as told me to do it, he said he wanted it for a joke.”
“My friend?” said Tilliana.
“He was tall, wearing an eye patch, and he had a pet bird, a raven. He said he knew you ma’am and gave me a silver to play a joke on you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean nothing by it. Honest.”
“Somehow I doubt you’re all that honest,” said Tilliana, but nevertheless she believed his story. She released her hold on the back of his collar.
“If you steal from a Servant of the Swift Sword again, I warn you, next time it will not go so easy on you. Now get out of here before I change my mind!” snapped Tilliana, trying to sound savage. The young man complied and ran off across the north bridge.
“I hope you scared him into behaving.” laughed Rouna as she watched him flee, “Who is this ‘friend’ of yours?”
“No one I ever seen,” said Tilliana, sounding puzzled, “Who would want my focus?”
“I would not know. Well, we’ve had enough excitement for one day haven’t we kids,” said Rouna, beginning to herd the children she was watching back together. “Say hello to your mother for me, Tilliana. And I will see you soon I hope?”
“I doubt that,” said Tilliana, as she picked up the large basket again, “Guardian Deochoo told me he was sending me somewhere in the morning. But I will tell mother I saw you. Bring Reona by sometime, Mother likes you and she loves babies.”
“I will,” said Rouna.
***************************
In the smithy at the Citadel of Truth, Niccolo Half-elven was helping Protector Laamak hammer out a new sword when Guardian Deochoo walked in. Laamak , grunted out a greeting to his superior and continued hammering. Niccolo, who was holding one end of the blade still with tongs, simply nodded at the old priest to show he recognized his presence.
Deochoo stood, watching patiently until, at last, Laamak lifted the five foot long blade from the anvil and laid it into a long trough of water. The steam hissed out in a torrent and Laamak nodded pleased.
“Looks good!” said Deochoo pleasantly.
“Aach, should be good,” said the heavier set man, “So what brings you into my smithy? Anything you need?”
“Actually,” said Deochoo, “I came in here to see Niccolo.”
“Me?” asked Niccolo. He had boldly entered the Halls of the Valiant and offered his services to the Servants of the Swift Sword nearly two weeks before. He had been impressed with their doctrine of bravery and their willingness to fight evil physically and passionately. But other then helping in the Smithy, Niccolo had done nothing to fight evil yet.
“Yes, you,” said Deochoo pleasantly, “If I remember right, you told me you had some skill as a tracker?”
“Yes,” said Niccolo.
“Very good, I am sending a group out in the morning and they will need a tracker I think. Please be at my office tomorrow shortly after dawn for details if you would.”
“Certainly, sir!” said the young half-elf pleased.
Deochoo smiled , then turned and left.
“Well then,” said Laamak, with a wry chuckle, “Seems I will be losing some help, we’d better get back to work to make up for you not being here. Why don’t you get the material for the hilt together.”
“Aye,” said Niccolo, returning to work, wondering where he would soon be headed.
*****************************
As Heidon scaled slowly up the outer walls of the Citadel of Truth the only sound to be heard was the footfalls of the sentry atop the wall. The lone sentry, one of the acolytes most likely, walked vigilantly, the moon glinting off of his armor and white robes. He passed above where Heidon was climbing and Heidon froze against the wall. Whether it was because Heidon had chosen his location of ascent well or because the moon did not reflect off of his clothing, the guard did not see him and as he walked on past the point above Heidon, the young thief finished his ascent to the top. In another instant he had dropped softly to the ground and was hidden again in a shadowy corner. Timing his movements carefully so as not to be seen by the sentry, Heidon darted from his hiding place to another hiding place, passing only momentarily through a lit spot of ground and then from there he was in another dark spot below an open and unlit window. The night was warm and the window was open and it was an easy thing for heidon to scale the necessary five feet and slip into the room.
It was a bedchamber and hardly empty. A man lay sleeping in a bed only two feet away from the window. But his snores were more than enough to cover any sounds Heidon made as he padded softly through the room and exited through the door. He was in a short hall, open at both ends. Closing his eyes, Heidon tried to mentally figure out which way he needed to go. Having decided, he opened them again and turned to his right.
He was startled to see a thin old man, not two feet away, dressed in a nightgown staring at him with knowing eyes.
“Wha…” was all that Heidon managed to say before the old man with a surprising amount of strength hit him in the chin with a fierce uppercut.
The lights went out.
When he came back to, Heidon found himself tied to a chair, sitting at a table. His head throbbed and his jaw felt broken. A single candle, resting in the middle of the table lit the room. Heidon looked around and saw that his possessions were in a bundle in a corner of the small room. The door opened and the same old man who had laid him low with a single punch entered the room, no longer in a nightgown, but now in full battle armor and clerical garb.
"Welcome back to the land of the living good sir," said the elderly cleric, "I am Guardian Deochoo and I am in charge of this temple. I must admit that I do not really appreciate being wakened from my sleep by intruders. You have a lot of explaining to do.”
"I’m sorry, I’m sure." sad Heidon thickly.
"Oh, that must still smart, let me see if I can help you."
The cleric reached out a gentle hand and rested it on the side of Heidon’s face. A warmth flowed from hand to cheek and Heidon felt the pain quickly leave. Even his head stopped throbbing.
"Now," said Deochoo, "I want you to tell me why you decided to break into a sacred place and disturb an old man’s sleep. And I warn you that I will know if you are lying to me."
Heidon did not doubt this last statement. He figured to himself that anyone that could move that silently, hit that hard and heal with a touch was a person to be reckoned with. Truth, was, he decided, in this case, the best policy.
"My name’s Heidon. I needed some money and though I didn’t really think it was the best idea in the world, this guy said that if I could sneak in here and nip a few clerical robes and things like that, he would make it well worth my while. He even gave me a few gold to start with, an earnest he said it was."
Deochoo looked steadily at the young man and Heidon found himself continuing, "Well, like I said, I didn’t really want to, but golds gold and foods food and not really seeing much other opportunity at the moment, I took him up on it and nipped in here and that’s when you clocked me."
"What did this man who paid you look like?"
"Well sir, he was about six feet tall, with a peg leg, a hook hand and he called himself captain."
"A colorful description, but one that is true. Your willingness to confess all does you credit. Was there anything else about this man?"
"“He had a bird."
"A bird? What sort, a parrot?"
"No sir. It was a black bird. A big one. It didn’t stay with him, but flew around a bit and he fed it some morsels when he was talking to me, so I figure it was his pet or something."
"Hmm. Would you know this man if you saw him again?"
"Yes sir."
Deochoo strode around the table slowly, one hand to his chin. He seemed to be thinking hard.
"Please sir, what are you going to do with me?"
"Do you have parents young man?"
"Yes sir, but they don’t live here in Xaarum. I left home and somehow just ended up here. Please sir, my mother would be awful upset with me if she ever found out."
"Hmm. Well a punishment is in order. One can’t just let thieves go freely about their business. On the other hand, justice and mercy are two sides of the same coin and you seem redeemable. I shall let you know in the morning what I plan on doing with you. Until then you will stay here. There is a man posted outside the door so even if you let yourself loose from that chair do not entertain any hopes of getting out. My advice for you is to try and get some sleep. It is what I plan on doing. Goodnight young man."
He blew out the candle and closing the door as he exited, Deochoo left Heidon tied to the chair and alone in the dark, worrying about what was going to happen to him.
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