Chapter Three - Part 2 - Hunted

In order to avoid Harken Village, the adventurers had to travel cross country using dirt trails and back roads on their way to the Woodsinger camp. As they left Albridge, the skies darkened considerably and rain clouds began to roll in. It was not long before the pouring began and the travellers were forced to endure the cold and wet.

They had been travelling for hours through the heavy rain and the muddy ground clung to their boots. The track they were following cut through and abandoned farmstead a few miles from the edge of the forest and through the fog and rain they spotted an Iron Circle woman holding a lantern from atop a large, red-scaled drake. The drake roared, and standing behind some nearby trees were three more brigands with crossbows.

“There they are!” shouted the woman on the drake. She was obviously their leader, dressed in a red surcoat.

The adventurers were taken by surprise but had been prepared for the Iron Circle to be on the lookout for them after they had attacked the caravan with the intent of angering the Iron Circle.

XIII jumped over the stone wall beside him where he saw a rabble of the Iron Circle waiting for him. He gave the peon a forceful kick, which knocked him backwards into the door of the small house he stood in front of and his head smashed through the small window of the door, tearing a deep gash in his head. He slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing over.

Meanwhile, the brigands waiting behind trees with their crossbows moved cautiously forward to closer trees while Lirael used his fey teleportation to the other side of the house where another minion was waiting beside the stone wall. Lirael grabbed him and pulled him over to smash his head through yet another window, which was not enough for Lirael, who then kicked him limp body into the tough cobblestone wall of the house beneath the window where he then fell lifelessly upon the shards of glass on the ground.

The woman steered her drake over towards the party of three and Rayne prepared himself to watch for either of their attacks before he mustered up the power of the Thunder Ram and slammed down upon the woman with his blade, knocking her off her mount and sending forth a shockwave that even the large drake was shaken by.

The brigands began closing in on them, taking shelter behind the trees and the house, as the Adept woman stood from where she fell off her drake and charged at Rayne, tearing a gash in his armor. XIII noticed Rayne was in trouble as the Adept struck him and another brigand shot a bolt into his leg from behind the house and, from afar, shot his cracking eldritch ribbons of energy at the woman, piercing her armor and drawing blood from the deep stabs in her chest.

Lirael, on the other side of the yard, tore his memory out of the mind of the brigand nearest to him and jumped over the dead body he had strewn on the ground into the window of the house while the brigand stumbled under the disorienting attack on his mind.

The drake charged at Rayne, who luckily ducked under it, causing the drake to slide in the mud, missing Rayne completely. The Adept was waiting for Rayne, however, and they exchanged a few clashes of steel. The Adept swung wildly, clutching her bleeding torso, her dagger wreathed in dark flames.

XIII ran around the corner of the house to get a good angle and summoned the hellish flames of Phlegethos, which sprang up as cascades of fire that engulfed the drake, who screeched terribly in the searing pain of the flames. Before the drake could recover, his scales smoldering, XIII transformed into a cloud of mist and disappeared into the relative safety of the house.

One of the brigands attempted to shoot XIII through a window but missed as another ran across the farmstead towards the small cabin across the trail from the house near Rayne’s standing point.

From inside the house, Lirael walked over to a window, where he could clearly see Rayne and the Adept woman fighting, and sent horrible visions of hellish tortures that contradicted the very essence of life itself into the mind of the Adept woman, which in turn seeped from her mind to the drake’s and they both squirmed under the torment of it.

In a rage, the drake attacked the first thing it could see, which was Rayne. He bit Rayne and the taste of the blood spilling from his arm invigorated him, shaking the ravening thought from his mind.

Rayne absorbed the strength of the earth beneath his feet into his arm and crashed down upon the Adept behind him with the strength of stone, crushing her to death and giving himself a surge of energy.

XIII ran out the front door of the house and sent a fierce line of black fire at the drake, who was still smoldering from the first fiery assault as a cascade of crossbow fires came at Rayne and XIII from all sides. XIII was able to dodge them, but Rayne, who was already severely battered, struggled to move effectively and was struck by another dart in his thigh.

Lirael tried forcing his mind upon the drake but the drake was too distracted by the fires that plagued him to notice Lirael’s mental attempts. The drake lunged itself at XIII but Rayne threw himself at the drake, lashing out with nature’s fury and sinking his blade deep into the neck of the drake.

The drake fell, its head hanging pathetically from its mangled neck, at XIII’s feet and gazed despairingly into his eyes. Suddenly, XIII was overcome with sympathy for the drake and for some reason was regretting ever fighting with it. He found himself longing to be the drake’s companion, caring for it and being cared for by it. It was as if the only thing he had ever loved had died. XIII never realized the potential for the emotional bond because he had been too busy trying to slay the creature before he had ever given himself the chance to try and understand it or feel for it. XIII was filled with remorse and a plethora of mixed feelings about his outlook on life.

Before the feelings could control him any longer, he ran around, becoming submerged in shadow, while drawing out his razor sharp claws and then dug them into the first brigand he came in contact with.

From just outside a window, another brigand shot Lirael in the hip. So Lirael, quietly enraged, grasped the wound and looked up at the brigand. He put his arms up, and with a pathetic plea, he said to the brigand, “I surrender, foe. Please, come and take me. Just don’t hurt me anymore!”

The brigand gave a grunt of a laugh and lowered his crossbow as he stepped in through the window. Just then, Lirael sent a force of psionic energy into the brigand, heaving him into the burning fireplace nearby. The brigand screamed in pain as he scrambled to get out of the fireplace. But Lirael thrust into his mind with his terrible imagery, knocking the brigand backwards into the back wall of the fireplace where he slumped to his fiery death.

Rayne and XIII outside were dealing with the second brigand. Together they took him down easily. But where was the third? XIII walked into the small nearby cabin and out the back door, where he found the last brigand cowering shamefully. Purely for the amusement of it, XIII took on a dark persona and began shouting in Abyssal while flailing his tongue at the terrified soldier, who ran futilely towards the other house. As he stood, backed into a corner at the front of the house, Lirael leaped out of the window beside him and sent threatening, serpentine words of Infernal into his mind, further terrifying him by pulling out his sickle with a menacing grin.

Rayne then ran up and transformed into a large willow tree, entangling the brigand in his roots and branches. With a maniacal grin on his face, XIII ran up to the group and pounced on the brigand, digging his claws deep into his chest, then tearing open his ribcage. He wrenched out the poor mans lungs, shoving one in his own mouth and the other in the brigand’s mouth. Rayne’s form shrunk back to his normal humanoid shape, allowing the brigand’s disfigured body to fall lifelessly to the ground. Frustrated that he never got to use his weapon, Lirael slashed at the brigand’s neck before walking away.

The rain was still coming down fairly hard, and the blood of all of the fallen adversaries mingled with the water and mud, staining the entire farmstead in red.

XIII walked solemnly back over towards the drake and cut the ruby from his collar as a token to remember him by while Rayne and Lirael scavenged the area for supplies and goods. He stood and went to find Lirael in the cabin.

“We should remember this place,” He said to Lirael, “It is a good place to rest and it looks as if no one but Iron Circle numphwits have used this place in years.”

Lirael smiled, “Yes, exactly. And wouldn’t it be easy to mug any passersby for their riches if we were to hide out here…?” He speculated out loud, “But, anyways…I’m going to get my rest now. You should do the same.”

With that, XIII jumped out the window, ignoring the door completely, and went to curl up beside the fallen drake in the now drizzling rain.

In the morning, the three decided to head out to the elven camp immediately. Before they left, XIII took a few minutes to say his last goodbyes to the drake. Then he was struck with a compulsion to take a piece of the drake along.

If I cannot have your heart in life, he thought, I shall at least have it in death…

And thus he carved out the drake’s cold, still heart then packed it away in his bag before following after Lirael and Rayne.


[I just want you to know that Michael was playing Shadow of the Colossus while I wrote the part about XIII and the drake so I had this song to write to....

I think I was close to tears.]