My Life, My Love and My Lady

preface​

I wanted to submit some fiction for in game or dealing with events we've encountered already while playing, so I began the story below. And I just kinda got carried away. lol. I realized very soon that my "vol. 1" would probably take up many books in game by itself. After viewing some of the other posts i went back and put breaks in this submission around where i thought the word count would allow. Even if it never makes it in the game, wont bother me a bit but thought it might be useful to someone, somewhere. i enjoyed writing it so i'll probably finish it whether it's used, un-used, liked, or hated.
anyway, havent really decided on a title. basic Chaucer title at the moment
yes, the thread title is a reference to an old song hope it becomes evident as you read it.
yes, i have the consent of the players mentioned here, myself and two others.
I hope the npc's of kingsport won't mind
very open to feedback and very willing to change anything i might have misrepresented or just got plain wrong.
and yea, i'll stop blabbin' now.

A Smuggler's Tale Vol. 1​

​

"Hello, Love. How would you like to make this the night of your life?" I don't recognize this one. She must be from one of those backwater villages, or an Outlander from a very open society. Goddess knows there are more and more of us showing up every day, all of us thrust into this alien world where if you don't find a place to fit in quick things can get real messy real fast. She know's her stuff though, leaning at just the right angle, pulling at her dress to entice the eyes to all the right body parts, and a natural knockout, almost no make-up. Sorry darling, but I'm taken.
I pull a coin purse from my under my black leathers and slide it across the table to her, barely taking my eyes from my bottle of spirits. Best to do these things quickly. "Despite your very tempting offer, I'm afraid I must decline. Nothing personal, Milady, but there is only one girl for me. Take the gold and the night off, on me. No hard feelins' lass."
To my surprise I got none of the usual responses. "Awww," she purred, sliding closer. "Well I'm afraid you're the only man for me tonight, and I'm very gifted when it comes to getting the things I want. Come now, I know how much fun you tall, dark, and brooding types can be behind closed doors." She reaches towards the first button on the low neck-line bodice, still trying to close the deal. Trying too hard.
Before she can react or even breath one syllable I strike, grabbing her wrist and gently pulling my coin purse before she could slide it out of sight down the front of her dress. I pull her into an embrace, atleast that's what the rest of the rowdy barflies in the tavern would think. "Alright madame, you have my attention. Now who put you up to this?" My eyes were already making a third sweep of tonite's patrons.
"How dare yo-"
"You see, a newbie would have been embaressed by my refusal and all the pros here in Kingsport know that I'm off the market. So enlighten me. Who's paying ya?" Her big eyes darted to the side for only a split second, but it was all I needed. I spotted my new friend just as he was turning out the side door. "Well I dare say he looked a little flustered. Gotta go, Love." I only stopped long enough to grab my black, wide-brimmed hat and toss the coin purse to the poor, wide-eyed girl. "Consider that payment for guarding my bottle until I return," I spoke over my shoulder before I was out the door and into the pitch black alley. I really didn't need to hurry, the man I hunted could always be found in the same spot. A couple twists and turns in the dark and there he was, acting as if he hadn't moved all day. Stands to reason that if you're a fence then people have to be able to find you I guess.
"Harry! How ya been old chum? Everything all right? You look a wee bit winded, a little flushed, I'd say."
"Look Ma-"
"Harry," sigh, "can we skip the song and dance. I'm gonna be real pissed if one of my last bottles of the good stuff isn't right where I left it." I cross my arms letting the casual act sweep aside my cloak giving the sword on my left hip the clearance she needed. Harry got the message.
"Ok, ok... it was nothing persona-" the weasely back-alley fence pleaded.
"What does Anton want?"

*********
​

"We don't see ya around much anymore. Boss has always shown favor to his more valuable employees. You know that. Me and the fellas thought maybe the new girl-" My laughter brought him up short. Confused and fidgeting. Easy target.
My blade cleared her sheathe in the blink of an eye. Point levelled at Harry's chest and ire in my voice. "Anton wants to go land-lover on us, fine. Thinks he can turn this island into his own little fiefdom, fine. Let him play house. I want nothing of it. I'm a sailor Harry, there's only one place for me and until our little undead problem is fixed, I'm out of work." That was the stick. Time for the carrot. I realax my sword grip, prop my blade back on my shoulder, and crack a half grin. "Come on, mate. Tell me what that little fool really wants."
Harry never takes his eyes off the blade in front of him. Of unique design and make, to be sure, but I never have quite figured out why everyone who looks upon her becomes seemingly mesmerized. She's long, thin and wickedly sharp. Single edged with just the slightest curve and a grip that is easily three hands long. She resembles the blades used by the folk in far off Ardoris, to the east, but that's not what make her special. What catches the eye is the fact that she is made of the blackest material I have ever seen. More akin to rock than metal. No smith I have ever shown her too has been able to identify it, nor have I ever had to hone her edge. Not even a single tool mark on her. She wasnt for the faint-hearted either, having no hand guard or tsuba in place. A signature weapon can come in handy in the life of a smuggler ship captain who deals in the underworld of Novia. It can also make one a target. As I was about to find out.
"Still got that ugly thing, huh?" Harry gestured towards my sword. "You should have thrown that cursed thing in the sea like I told you, Captain. Else I wouldn't have to be doing this," Harry says as he whistles between thumb and forefinger. Wide eyed fear is replaced by cold, cruel certainty. Men wearing black appear at either end of the alley. A quick glance tells me about half a dozen. Three in front, three to the rear. Including Harry that made seven. Bad odds. And I was the fool who walked right into it. I remain calm, sword still propped on my shoulder like a fishing pole. Can't panic in these situations. No such thing as a no-win scenario.
"Well, seems ya got me, mate. That mean you're going to tell me what Anton wants now?" The three men in front halt just behind Harry. Two look like average bruisers, cudgels and faces only mothers could love. The three behind me stop and take up positions four or five feet away. A quick glance coupled with the smell of them told me they were cut from the same cloth as the two ruffians behind Harry. I had been in and escaped from worse, however it was the look of the third man behind Harry that brought me up short. He was tall and lean, carrying a staff and, as oppose to his cohorts, dressed in finery befitting a noble. Damnit, Anton, I swore to myself. This was certainly going to complicate things. "Really, Harry? You brought a mage? What are you thinking?" I'm still talking to Harry in my friendly voice.
"Oi, him?" Harry jabbs a thumb behind him towards the spell caster. "He's just here for varification. Ya see, Cap'n Malk, Anton knows all about your plans to get off this island."
I snicker at him. "Lots of folks want off this island. How am I any different?"

**********​

"Well as you know, our gracious Oracle has us blockaded from leaving until that damn liche who's raising an army of the dead is taken out."
I sigh, overly exasperated. "I do hope you get to what this has to do with me. There's a bottle waiting for me, remember?"
"The blade, Malk! Anton happens to prefer things the way they are right now, and would like certain assurances that some would-be hero isn't going to go fix our undead problem with his hell-spawned sword and the rumored cache of magic items he's supposedly been hording!"
Laughter. A deep-belly laughter that has me clutching my gut and starting to bend over. "A hero?" More laughter. The irratation on Harry's face is starting to turn to red rage. "So, criminal smuggler saves whole island?" Can't stop laughing now. "I suppose after that I ride off into the sunset on my talking horse?" Got to keep this up just a little longer.
"Malk! This isn't a request," Harry slid a little closer to me. Harry's attempt at being menacing was even more fuel for my laughter.
"After that its off to find a magical farmer's hoe that can take down a dragon, I guess?" I barely manage this last line through my hysterical laughing fit.
"Anton's respect for you is the only reason we ain't killed ya already, but rest assured. That can change very quickly." Harry's closer now. Almost within arm's reach. "The sword, Malk! Now!"
I start to calm down. Wipe the tears from my eyes, sober up a bit. I glance up at Harry and rise again to my full height. In a flurry of movement and with a deft hand motion, the black sword snaps off my shoulder. Everyone tenses, but the men only had enough time to slightly raise their cudgels. I'm not attacking they realize for I'm holding her out to Harry as if to relinquish her. She's in a reverse grip, pointed at the ground seperating Harry and I. Everyone visible relaxes, couple of the thugs even look disappointed to be denied their blood sport for the night.
"Here ya go, mate" Harry steps forward. Right where I want him. As he raises his hand to grab the rest of her grip, he catches my crooked grin. Now. Strike.
I pull the sword away from Harry's grasping fingers and execute a blind stab directly behind me. Caught one of the brutes in the belly. One down. Now my sword is flying straight at Harry's face, but I'm still holding her in my reverse grip. My sword pommel smashes his nose. The blow and shock stagger him backwards into the mage and two henchmen. All four go down in a tangled mess in the tight alley. One now worthless Harry and three more temporarily down. Next. Pivot and turn left. The blade moves with me and I am able to turn fast enough to score a slash on one of the remaining men behind me. Deep chest wound. Another one down. My blade continues her same arc, flying towards the next and last guy still on his feet. This one has had the longest time to react however, so the best I can do is simply parry the overhead cudgel strike aimed at my head.

**********
​

We seperate and square off. I do not have time for a duel. Already, I hear Harry's group regaining their feet. My eyes dart their way to check their progress. It's the mage who is first up, his hand already pulling bits of archaic powders from the satchel on his hip. He's chanting, his staff's head dipping in my direction and beginning to glow blue-white. I parry another cudgel blow coming from the man in front and twist away, letting his forward motion carry him stumbling towards his compatriots. The mage has completed his incantation. You should have known better than this, Anton. I hold my sword, Blackrock, up between the spell-user and myself.
Harry notices his wizard's actions too late. He knows what will happen. Through the blood gushing from his face and watery eyes he shouts, "No you fool, don't cast that spell!
Too late. Lightning begins gathering around the head of the staff before suddenly leaping towards me. One of the other reasons I have never parted with her and one of the unexplained mysteries about my sword and the substance she is made of: she causes magic to go haywire.
The lightning bolt is yanked off target and drawn to her, striking the tip first before running down the length of her blade. the results of magic cast at her are random. This time the lightning becomes a vortex of wind and water that swirls about the blade like a typhoon at sea. And as quickly as it attracted the magic, the sword expels it, right back at the caster. I feel nothing of the effects. Harry and his men are pummelled by wind and stinging water drops. All of them thouroughly dazed but nothing fatal. Time to run. "Later, old chum. Let's do this again sometime, eh?" I shout at Harry as I sprint out of the alleyway, turn a corner, and run right into three more toughs coming to the aid of their fallen comrades. "By the Three!" I swear. "All of my brandy will be long gone by the time I get back to that bottle."
Before things could get any worse, from out of the darkness above us, the whistling sound of four arrows screamed down and thudded into the packed earth at the feet of my would be attackers. "Run along now, boys! Tell you're master that his prey has eluded him tonight!" The voice is female. One I was very grateful to hear. My attackers begin to slowly retreat, but a few more well placed arrows got them running soon enough.
A lithe shadow materializes from the thatch roof above me and nimbly drops to the ground next to me. "Care to sheathe that thing now?" the brown haired woman asks me.
"How'd you find me, Sole?"
"Well the floozy back at the tavern helped a lot. Seems to be rather taken with you too. She's guarding a bottle of brandy like it's the most precious thing she's ever seen. However, it was Drakkhan who sent the search out. Why in all of the Black Void are Anton's men after you, Malkhelm?"
"That's Captain Malkhelm, my dear"
She straps her bow to her back. Blackrock returns to her sheathe. "Oh really?" the sarcasm shining through her friendly banter. "Last time I checked, neither one of us has a ship. Kind of makes it difficult to be a captain. Wouldn't you agree, Malkhelm?" I set off down the lane, setting a brisk pace. "Where are we going?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I ask, chuckling a little. "Us being heroes and all, there is only one thing to do." I don't need to look at her face to see the bewilderment. "We're going to go save a whole island." I continued walking while she stopped a moment in stunned silence. She didn't hesitate long before she was right back beside me.
"What's the plan, Captain?"
"Brandy first, dear."

 

I really enjoyed your story and I hope to see the rest of the adventures some day.

Well done!

Edit
Haha, ok I just love your story so... please please give us more!!

 

Bravo/applauds loudly.....

This is grand, only thing I would add is screenshots for effect/everyone loves a picture or two..... /tip of the hat and a bow

I could see them in my mind, but then not all readers have walked the alleyways. /salute

 

Well written. My own adventures seemed less heroic. Look forward to more.

 

Boo hiss Boo..
the character Drakkhan needs more lines...MORE LINES....
then i would rate it 5 stars

I got to read it as it was written and Malkhelm knows my opinion

MORE DRAKKHAN

and about this Farmer's Hoe....
is she cute....

kind of reminds me of my ex-wife....
Hoe of Destruction.......ok...im going to stop now...

 

Excellent! Don't leave us waiting to long for the next instalment now

 

sometimes it needs a push to find good posts in forums *grin*
I like your story very much and hope we don't have to wait long time for the next chapter of smugglers tale

 

That was good, really good, my only complaint is that it is not finished. (Well, I might have noticed some small grammar issues: know's, tonite's). What really bugs me though is that I do not see the rest of the volumes anywhere yet

 

Yeeees, we want more! No pressure etc...

 

Great story there, very entertaining and visual! i look forward to reading more of your stuff! and now you have lifted my writers block! thanks.

Awesome work there!

 

bump.

 

Ok, i deserve several slaps on the wrist for taking so long but i have the next part. Again, same disclaimer as before. Also, I was so dead set on posting it tonite that i know it needs proof reading and fact checking....me staying in the same tense just being one example, but I am going to post it as is....just give me a day to republish one more mistake free. Love you guys for the support and encouragement or i wouldnt have made it this far. Srry it took so long . One last thing...not going to lie, i've been in my cups drinking to forget my birthday. i will have a more polished version of this in a day...just felt i had to post it asap to prove that i've been doing something with my time. Love you all. so......


A Smuggler's Tale II



Being surrounded on all sides by rugged seas, to call the land of Hidden Vale an island seemed a gross understatement. The north and south of the large land mass are peppered with mountain ranges, the tallest of these peaks being a massive, active volcano overlooking the large city of Owl's Head. As a result, Hidden Vale is riddled with caves which makes it perfect for smugglers and thieves. It also makes it hell if you happen to be looking for one in particular. The little bit of intel I had pointed to a cave east of Owl's Head, somewhere between the city and the ocean. A lot of mountainous terrain to cover. Drakk and Sole cornered me and insisted that a guide was needed. After three days of traipsing through highlands in gods-awful weather with an aloof old man who not once even checked a map, I still thought we would have been better on our own.
"Have faith, Captain," Sole teases on our second day out of Owl's Head. The three of us following the tall, gray headed guide who walks confidently twenty yards ahead, a seven foot pole with a leather hood covering its tip serving as a walking stick and completely covered in mismatched pieces of leather and cloth. Despite his age though, the man hefts one of the largest travel sacks I've ever seen.
"I swear we've passed this rocky outcrop before."
"I think the fact that he doesn't consort a map just proves his genius," Drakk is enjoying every minute of my uneasiness. "Just relax, Malk. The man is the best guide in the Vale." His face may be covered up by a plate helm most of the time but I know he has that ****-eating grin on his face.
"Maybe he'll pull out dowsing rods next or try to discern our destination from the innards of a crow."
"They say sarcasm's not good for the soul, ya know," Sole says, clapping me on the shoulder.
By day three I am at wit's end. Our guide continues to lead out a ahead of us with hardly a word to share. When asked anything of the cave we search for he only says, "Oh yes, we're making excellent time". The only other thing the man seems to care about are our meal breaks and his sleeping roll. Sole and Drakk are beginning to notice my growing irratation and forego the usual joking banter.
"I know that look," I overhear Drakkhan whispering to Sole towards sunset. "Looks like we might be out a guide soon." And at that very moment old man out front abruptly stops atop a rise overlooking a small canyon and promptly pulls out his bed roll and begins preperations for supper. Anger beginning to rise again I immediately start for the old man. Drakk looks about to move to stop me but Sole shakes her head at him.
"Sir, while I appreciate all you have tried to do," I start off, "I don't think our arrangement's going to work out." The guide barely registers my presence, lighting his smoking pipe while staring up at me. "Of course we will pay for the services already rendered but-"
"No thanks, son," he says around his pipe stem. "I'll be taking the full payment."
"I'm trying to be nice here but you really expect me to pay you for dragging us around these mountains for three days without a single sign of us being on the right trail. Are you daft-"
"You this rude to all the people you employ," he says calmly, blowing a smoke ring in my face. "There's only one cave that meets the vague description you provided me with and it happens to be just over my shoulder, down in yon canyon."
Awestruck, I step forward to gaze for myself. Sure enough, while the cave entrance appears to be psuedo-hidden, I can clearly make out a couple of guttering torches and what are clearly a pair of guards not even trying to conceal themselves. And most importantly, both guards are sporting red sashes around their waists. Damnit, I'm an ass!
The old man's chuckling brings me back to my conversation with him. "My humble apologies seem to be in order."
"Ahh forget it, son," the guide smiles a toothy grin up at me. "I know you sea-faring types are a little out of your element in the deep widerness."
"Am I that obvious?"
"Oh no one would have picked up on it easily, it's just that we can recognize our own I guess" mirth filling the man's eyes.
With a start I reply, "You, a sailor? You gotta be joking. How in the hell did you end up here of all places? And being a guide in a land-locked wilderness?"
"I happen to be an outlander too ya know, although I'd guess that I've been stuck on this island a lot longer than you, my friend. True I couldn't find my way for years, tried a little bit of everything". For a moment his smile fades and that far-off look takes his eyes, remembering things unpleasant, undoubtedly. But like a switch, he turns the smile back on and shakes off the past again. "Don't get me wrong, son, the sea is in my blood and I'll be the first one to welcome her embrace again. Until then though, I had to find a new sea... a green, leafy one with rocks for whitecaps. If ya catch my meaning." The old man begins rumaging in his oversized pack and pulls out a tooled-leather case about a yard long and maybe foot wide. It is aged, but meticulously oiled and cared for...no, it is loved.
"Is that?"
Biggest grin yet for the man when he sees the recognition in my eyes. "Yes it is. One of the only things that made it with me to this new foriegn world," he speaks as he undoes the clasps and opens the case.
"Sir-"
"Call me Beli, son. My name's Beli Mawr"
Ten paces away I hear Drakkhan ask Sole, "I swear, you sailor folk are crazy as loons. Malk was ready to chuck him off the side of a mountain an hour ago and now the new best friends are oggling an ancient fishing pole like its the most beautiful woman they've ever seen."
"Malk's also forgetting something else. Beli had already proven his worth over these three days. He's got power, that one." When Drakk looks at her quizzically she replies, "Even you haven't realized it yet. The whole way here we didn't run across a single bandit, bear, wolf, or spider. That old man seems to have a few more secrets as well."
It seems Beli has many secrets.

* * *​

A few hours before cock's crow was our decided upon operational starting time. I am currently perched on the outcrop overlooking the cave entrance as I watch Drakkhan's lone figure approach the guards as if he had not a care in the world. Dressed head to toe in heavy metal plate, and with as many weapons strapped to him as most town militias had in their armouries, he wasn't hard to locate. Jingle, clank, jingle. The big man sounded like coins being shaken in a tin cup. The man was about as subtle as a thunderstorm. Jingle, clank, jingle. That's why I had sent him through the front door after all. Sneaking wasn't his style. Me and my fine black leathers however was quite a different story.
My body reacts before thoughts form. I spin, Blackrock clears her scabbard and a throwing knife is cocked above my shoulder before I recognize the grizzled, old mountain guide, Beli. Damn the man cou0ld move quietly when he wanted.
"Nothing but evil down there. You sure you know what you're getting into?" Beli spoke as he gains a spot next to me with his trusty walking stick.
"Don't worry pops, my friends and I can handle ourselves," I resheathe my blades and using a rope tied to a stump, I get into position to repel down to the canyon floor. Thirty yards away Sole should be preparing to do the same thing. "Unfortunately I'm quite familiar with the criminal element, being one myself." I wink and laugh, yet when all I get back in return is a frown from the old man, I shrug and begin my descent.
Before I can drop a hand's span, Beli reaches down and grabs me by the cuff of my collar. "You think death a laughing matter, boy?" I suddenly felt very small looking up into the man's hard gaze. "I'm sure Lord Enmar promised you all sorts of rewards, didn't he? Have you stopped to ask yourself why he hasn't mobilized the militia to come handle a few bandits. I didn't lead you here so that I could have you and your friend's fates on my conscience. There are worse things than death, son. I'm sure Enmar knew what he was signing you up for but did he tell you? Tell you what's waiting for you should you make it to the bottom? " The old man held me in place." With one strong arm this man had me held fast. This man continues to surprise me.
"I think you got the wrong idea about me. I could care less about bandits either and Enmar can give all the reward money to you for all I care." The man's eyes narrowed at me. "Oh, and by the way, pop, I'm hoping the necromancer that you're eluding to is waiting for me at the bottom. Be a wasted trip otherwise," Beli releases me after that statement and get ready for my descent once more. Time is wasting. Must rendevous with Sole down there for the next step.
"What exactly do you want?" Beli asked before I got out of earshot.
"You spoke of an 'evil' down there. I'm going to end it. Drew the short straw, I guess. I misjudged you on the way here. Don't do the same to me now." I need to go, damnit old man.
"You still haven't answered my question. What is it that you seek?"
I am considerably lower down the side of the cliff now and had crane my head as far as I could to meet the old man's eyes. Laughing I admitted, "Something you do you ornery, old cuss, I just want to sail my ship again." His laughter is welcome company as I descend into the dark.
Reaching the canyon floor, I am just able to glimpse Drakk and his two 'escorts' prodding him into the cave entrance by sword point. I snuck closer and immediately reunited with Sole.
"Alright, dear, your turn. Your contact with these guys is reliable, correct?" I whisper to her in the darkness.
"For the tenth time, yes. Faith, remember." She put her hands to her mouth and gave out a low cooing sound. three of them. Seconds later, a shabby looking man emerged from the cave entrance and Sole quickly waved him over. The man snuffed out the torches as he did so, and quickly joined us, kneeling down in the tall grass. "Malkhelm, I'd like you to meet Three-Finger Laurant. An old fence I used to use before we got land-locked here."
"Good evening, sir. Lady Sole has told me of your wishes. Is it true that you wish to dispatch this necromancer?
"That's the plan."
"Really, sir, I know we're bandits but we always robbed from those who could afford it. Often Wolf, our old leader would even redistribute some to the needy. And he never let his boys kill or harm a soul. Maybe a cut or a bruise here and there but nothing beynod that . It was that damn Nestor and that mangy cur, Blackpond. Blackpond was always a bloodthirsty brute but Wolf kept him check." The man was clearly frightened. "Then Nestor came. I had only heard stories of Obsidian Mages before but... but the things he did...took Wolf down as if he was nothing but a fly to be swatted. Since then, Blackpond has finally gotten his way with the Red Sashes." He was trembling now and on the verge of tears. "Poor Kelly...."
"Laurant," I spoke firmly, trying to instill some measure of courage back in to the poor fellow. "Laurant, we have to try and my people and I are your best shot at the moment. Everyone on this island might share Wolf's-" A swift jab to the ribs from Sole and quick look at the color draining from Three-finger's face told me to try a different tack. I put a hand on the shaking man's shoulder, "You and I are both business men, eh? There's going to be a lot a lucrative opportunities once the trade routes open again. A man could find himself very rich in a short amount of time." Laurant began to process the possibilities and noticably calmed down. "I can tell you've an eye for the market and obviously a willingness to do a little dealing under the table. You get me down there, Three-Fingers, and I'll fix your mage problem." You could practically see the gold in his eyes.
"Deal," Laurant says and holds out his hand for a shake. I comply with a smile and grasp the man's hand, but he holds tight before i can pull away. "As long I could have some exclusive rights, of course. A merchant with a ship captain who has a willingness to do a little dealing under the table could make a lot of gold."
Caught in my own trap. "Deal," I say with a laugh.
"If you guys are done, can we get this mummer's farce on the road. I know Drakkhan could halt the sun in the sky with his silver tongue but we must act swiftly." Sole interrupts.
Three-Fingers leads us into the cave entrance and down a short flight of stairs carved from the bed rock. Up ahead I can hear the sounds of a rabble and steel clashing. I hope Drakk hasn't made too much of a mess by now. We enter the main cavern which the notorious gang used for its living quarters. Boxes, tables, and bedrolls litter the area haphazardly, meanwhile the Red Sashes themselves are all gathered in an open space in the center, forming a circle around two men. My friend Drakkhan is a large imposing man, especially when decked out in his full dark steel plate, but the man he now faced off with was every bit his equal in size.
"That's Blackpond," Three-Fingers whispers at my side.
"Surely this is a jest. No way a dullard such as yourself is the leader of the legendary Red Sashes." Drakkhan loudly proclaims, his favored warhammer in hand.
"I will make you eat those words, you mangy cur!" the brute responds. "You lot pay attention. Watch what happens to those who don't show proper respect!" Well played, Drakkhan.
With the entire gang focused on back and forth between Drakk and Blackpond, Laurent easily led Sole and I deeper into the hideout. We enter another tunnel which leads to what appears to be a holding area. A solitary cell is arrayed along one wall holding a single occupant. Its a man, beaten and bloodied, clothes torn. "Who is that?" I ask Three-Fingers.
"Another fool who sought us out a few days back, says his name's Norman and that's about the only thing we can get out of him. The necromancer lies down that way," Laurant says and gestures towards a tunnel on the far side of the cavern. "I can take you no further."
Working outside the law is my trade but one thing I can never abide is human torture or trafficking. I approach the man slumped on the floor and check his vitals. "Sole-"
"No way." she interrupts defiantly.
"You know you have to, it's the right-"
"I am not leaving you to go further on your own. You have no concept what you'll be facing down there."
I lock eyes with her. We both know I'm right. "Please, Soleidad." Reluctantly she acquiesced.
"I will get that man free of here." I could see her jaw tightening in frustration. "If you don't follow shortly afterwards..." Her piercing gaze forces me to stand and turn towards the can tunnel leading towards my objective.
"Ya don't have to say it," I reach down to caress Blackrock, "I can handle a mage." Without looking back I state, "I will see ya soon, yeah?"
I can hear her and Three-Fingers hoisting poor Norman to his feet as well as his his groans and grunts of pain.
"I will kill everything in here." With that they were gone. Damnit, I told her she didn't need to say it. I took a moment to collect my thoughts, steady myself. I drew her. She slides easily, always does. Blackrock in hand I enter the tunnel and start to descend immediatly. Time to face the music.
Couple of turns and constantly descending, I eventually enter another open cavern. Unlike the others though, this one is bathed in blue light. Braziers of blue flames are the first things I notice. They are on either side of an alter upon which rested a skeleton. Who knows how long ther person had been killed but an ornate dagger is still wedged between the ribs at an angle to hit the heart, had any of the organs still been there. Behind the altar stood a man. Short, balding, hooked nose, non-existent chin and baggy robe swathed about him, but it wasn't his appearance that intimidated. I don't claim any magical aptitude but I could feel the evil on this man. It is a miasma that surrounds him.
"Well, a guest has arrived," his voice is an odd mix of high and raspy. "I must say I would have thought some brave hero to come stumbling here much earlier. Kind of an insult to me and I brooded over it for a long time. Until I realized that it's actually a compliment to the utter devastation I have helped sow in this land." He isn't even looking at me anymore. I'm nothing to him, just an ant to gloat over before being crushed.
His gaze abruptly turns back to me. "Where are my manners, please come in, make yourself comfortable". The mage gestures around the room. With a quick glance I survey a couple of chests and a table with books, beakers, and an odd assortment of tiny, horned skulls. In the corner is another skeleton. This skeleton still has bits of armor adorning it, a steel blade in the swordbelt around its waist. It is just as lifeless as the one on the altar, yet it made me wary all the same.
"I've not come to exchange pleasantries, Necromancer."
"Call me Nestor, I beg you." The mage loosely knitted his hands in front of him and faced me without a care in the world. "I do so enjoy knowing the people who will come to serve me. Please tell me of yourself."
The mage is below me. Stairs hewn from the rocky floor lead down to the main floor off to my right. The table and dead warrior are below me as well but off to my left. I could leap and land on said table, but jumping forward to the altar and mage beyond was out of the question. In the end I just settled for avoiding the stairs and dropping down to the cavern floor oppisite the altar and slowly approaching, Blackrock raised.
Nestor chuckles, "Really? Oh come on," the weasley man prattled, "In that much of a hurry to become my thrall?"
"There's only one thing I need to do here." I say still cautiously advancing. Nestor is so non-chalant about my approach. Something's not right.
"Shame. I had hoped for some inteligent conversation for a change but...." the mage makes a hand gesture and his eyes take on a magical green hew. Behind me I hear a rattling and other sounds I'd rather not describe. Blade still pointed at the mage I glance over my left shoulder and see the once lifeless warrior skeleton pull itself together and rise to its feet, drawing its blade and pulling a buckler off its back. ****.
I pivot on the balls of my feet and square off against my inhuman opponent. I throw a couple of light attacks, some feints, and some all out attacks with all my might. No avail. Stop thinking you're fighting the living! No mind games were going to work on this opponent. My swordplay was just going to have to beat its swordplay. I break off our clash and take a deep breathe, centering myself and becoming nothing more than a machine I re-engage. No feelings or emotions this time, just cold unthinking percision. I hacked off its shield arm and took off a leg at the knee.
I had the thing on its back after a short stretch. I could sense my victory. Just wished I had sensed the blunt instrument the broke a couple of my ribs as it slammed into me into the cavern wall. I look up at my new assailent as I desperately rake in every tear-jerking breathe. A muscular Kobold fighter stood over me, hammer in hand. It snarls and raises it black hammer for the killing stroke, all the while the chuckling of the necromancer is ringing through the cave. I refuse to close my eyes or plead as I await my deathblow and stare at the Kobold. Yes, I will stare at at death when it comes for me. It seemed to hesitate for but a moment. Perhaps caught off guard by my actions and then a large gray mass flew over my head and crashes into the Kobold fighter sending it to the floor.
"Hahaha, this two legged puppy is too much for ya?" Drakkhan."Slay the necromancer my arse. Looks like ya make a better throw rug"
"Guess you... didn't see... the skel...eton warrior...I already....dispatched," breathing hurt, talking is excuciating.
Drakkhan regarded the skeleton, damaged as it was yet still trying to crawl towards me, "Fine, I'll give ya a pass." Drakk and the Kobold squared off and began trying to overpower one another with brute strength. "Just this once," Drakk spoke through clenched teeth. The Kobold and my friend are on the floor in no time trying to out wrestle the other.
In my haze of pain, I see the necromancer approaching, his sacrificial dagger in hand. I begin desperately grasping around for Blackrock until I see that she's far from my reach.
"Out of plays my young friend," the mage sneered as he somes to stand over me. Once again I am staring death down. Just then the remnants of the skeleton I had downed earlier reached me. I held my breath to stiffle the pain and acted without thought, grabbing the steel sword from the downed skel and immediately thrust upward, running the necromancer through the gut. His sneer was replaced by disbelief then outrageous fury as he stumbled back a few paces.
"You bloody fool!" Nestor's voice is shrill. "Idiot! What did you hope to accomplish? Do you think kiling me will stop the undead army that is even now poised to strike at the major cities on this island. I don't controll them anymore, they are self sustaining now and growing, fool! You will die in vain!" A green sickly aura surrounded him and the steel sword in his gut eased out of him and fell to the floor. No blood. "This island will fall with or without me now! The only thing you have accomplished is getting yourself killed!" Black power gathered and formed between the mages hands and without pause he hurled it towards me. Without my sword there really was nothing I could do at this point.
A figure walked in front and shielded me. He carried a large walking stick with a hooded tip. I heard this stanger chant and the black malicious bolt headed for us dissapated in a crack and wisp.
"You!? It can't be!" Nestor's face went pale.
The stranger turned to me but I know. It's Beli. He surveys my condition and whispers more incantations. A healing light, undescribable in its purity, washes over me, healing me and reknitting bone. Afterwards he reaches up and removes the hood from the tip of his walking stick to reveal a bladed spear head carved with magical runes and levelled it at the now cowering necromancer. Over his shoulder his spoke to me, "You and I are going to have a long talk after this but before my healing spell knocks you unconscience, you should always bring a mage when you go up against another mage."
Before darkness took me the image of Beli's strong figure wading towards the sickly green light of the necromancer burns itself into my memory.

* * *​

When next I come back to my senses we are back in our meager camp outside Owl's Nest. From my bedroll I spot Sole and Drakk around the evenings fire plus Norman, the man we had dragged from that pit. Beli is nowhere to be seen.
"We did it Cap'n," Drakk smiled and passed me some mead. "Won't be long now and the seas will be yours once again. Here, here" And he cheered my cup with his own.
"You're very lucky," Sole added coldly. She is angry at me for sending her out of there.
"We all are, I say, Beli is the true hero who saved all our necks," Dakkhan smiled and laughed into his cup. "By the way, the greatest guide ever took his leave this morning, without a word. Man slays a necromancer and doesn't even stick around to see about a reward. More for us I guess. Cheers!"
The last words of Nestor the Necromancer come back to me then. "It's not over, far from it in fact."
That remark caused Drakk to spew his mouthful of mead into the fire.
"He's right." We all turn towards the new voice to speak. Its bruised and battered Norman. ""The undead have a will of there own now, especially with the necro gone. Nestor was nothing more than a catalyst. The undead army is running itself now. They have infiltrated Kingsport, the forests and swamps and more importantly Owl's head."
"Who are you Norman?" I ask the man, fearing I already know the answer.
"I work for the Oracle. And this is far from over."

 

Happy Birthday Malk, we all love you

I loved the second part too and I cant wait to see where story goes.

No pressure...

 

Ty sole...I appreciate it

 

k, i re-re-re-reedited it. now my ocd has calmed down enough for me to leave it alone