Grendel's Demon pt. 3: A Ballad and Planning

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As we walked, Tornar questioned us about our familiarity with the Elves. We explained our situation about how the Druidess wants us to assassinate some of the town folk. At first we were reluctant, but now, with all we’ve learned of the town, some of those listed we’re more inclined to dealing with, the Mayor being the first.

Bal Vyr eventually brought up the ballad again. It was titled ‘The Ballad of Urrok Gann.’ Trickfoot took a look at it and read it allowed:

The ballad was quite chilling. I’m not entirely sure, but it would seem whatever the great beast was is now contained inside the orb, like a prisoner to Pelor’s might. Yet if the darkness inside it was the monster that Urrok Gann was defeated by, are we that evil? The same darkness in the orb is marred on our skin. However, what evil is there to be had by me when I restored everything to it’s own perfection upon my death?

Soon the conversation changed to the fact we would have easy access to the lumber mill and therefore could investigate the situation of the Elves with them. The manager was on the hit list and part of me could only hope he wouldn’t be as disagreeable as the Mayor and Captain Skawsdin.

Harbinger suggested that we first try and scope out the town. He wanted to go in because he had been hurt in a manner that he needed the clerics at St. Cuthbert to help him. While doing so, he’d see how things are going, especially considering we were given a way out with no explanation. Bal Vyr told the Goliath that if he was the one to go in, he’d best use his ring to disguise to himself. Other than that, everyone, even my reluctant self, agreed that was a good idea.

I was getting quite weary by the time we settled for the night. We didn’t want to get too close to town, but it felt like a good distance from where we encountered the Elves to call it a night. I had offered to keep watch, but the men said they had it covered.

We all situated ourselves in a circle. There was something about all of us together. We’re each so very different, yet I felt safe with them. It was like... family almost. Why had I never felt this way when I was with Isaac and the others? No, I take that back. The others I never felt close to, but Isaac I miss. He was so... obnoxious, but he always had my back.

Part of me wishes we could have had a fire, but not wanting to attract the Elves, a cold night would bode better for us. I wrapped my cloak about myself and laid down next to Harbinger. I don’t know how he’d handle the night. With his armor off, he was only sporting pants.

“Bummer I don’t have my- er, our tent on me. It’ll be a bit cool tonight won’t it,” I whispered.

“It won’t be that terrible,” he responded. He was laying on his back and opened his arm up for me to join him, “I’ll keep you warm.”

I hesitated a moment. Part of me felt shy with everyone laying about, yet part of me figured why not? So I moved into his arm and rested my head on his shoulder. It was definitely warmer and part of me wonders if Goliath’s are naturally resistant to the weather. Would it be weak of me to not be able to tolerate the elements on my own the majority of the year? It then got me wondering if I had anything to offer in a Goliath’s tribe. I can’t heal, I’m no druid, I am not a great hunter and gatherer, let alone I’m so small and by comparison, frail.

Frail... no. I had my strength. If anything, my flight would help me keep up with Harbinger’s people. I know I’m getting stronger every day as I practice. Also, as to my usefulness in a tribe, I was a shepherd! Granted it was centuries ago, but surely I could do that as my way of contributing!

“Harbinger, what kind of animals did your tribe raise?” I asked.

“Hmm, not many. Last I saw, we had small eagles and hawks. Sometimes wolves,” he listed, “There was a time when we had Great Eagles. Oh, and my mother had a lioness. She’d have a litter of cubs in the summer in which we’d help raise them.”

“What about sheep and cattle?” I asked hoping he had forgotten to mention them.

“No,” the Goliath replied, “We’re nomadic and live in the mountains, so we’ve never had any livestock.”

My heart sank. There goes that, I thought. “Right, you get most of your game from hunting,” I mentioned glumly.

“Why do you ask?”

A small sigh escaped me. “Contemplating my usefulness in a tribe. I was a shepherd before I was Exalted. I was mildly hoping that sheep or goats were common among your people.”

“Really?” Harbinger asked. I gave a nod of my head. “Well that is mighty fortunate then. It’s not my intentions to always stay in the mountains, Blackwing. I actually want to bring my tribe out and develope a place where we can farm and have livestock. So it is useful that you have that skill. I would love to learn one day.”

I beamed. If Harbinger was serious, then I’d have a huge part to play. I lived in a farming community and have the experience to aid in his desire to have his people settle.

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Grendel's Demon pt. 2: He Who Bears Erythnul's Mark

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Harbinger enchanted one of his gauntlets with a light spell, illuminating the underground labyrinth. Tornar lead the way, juggling Bal Vyr and the map with ease. I could only imagine the reaction the Drow would have once he woke up in the arms of a Dwarf.

The Goliath looked upon me as I began to follow. “How are you holding up?” he asked. I assessed myself, taking a few deep breaths.

“I’m gonna be sore for awhile,” I replied as my chest burned from the bruising Grendel gave me. My cheek was scabbed over and some purple spots were along my exposed arms.

“Need some healing?”

I gave a small smile and shook my head. “No thank you,” I said, “best you save your magicks in case we run into trouble down here.”

Harbinger reached out and stroked my cheek. As he did, he whispered a few words to which warmth spread through my chest. I wanted to scold him for not honoring my refusal, but I smiled, thankful for the extra relief from my pain.

We made our way through the labyrinth for what felt like hours. Bal Vyr did wake up and that made for a small scene due to Tornar seeing though the Drow’s disguise. The Dwarf listened to our reasoning of him being marked like us and that, for a Drow, he was decent company. Miraculously, Bal Vyr didn’t do anything further to endanger our new comrade. Alas, that could just be due to all of us being present. May Tornar never be alone with the Drow.

The evil and darkness of the catacombs we were able to escape unscathed. It felt like a few hours had passed since our dealing with the Mayor. The exit opened up to the woods, the moon overhead giving a soft glow to the trees about us. Everyone felt certain we were north of the town, so I flew up and out of the tree lines to get a better view. Despite the glow of the moon, I couldn’t see the town at all. A moment of panic swept through me. It was like de’ja vu. I had seen these woods before! They were the very ones I got lost in when I left Raæin to find a cure for him... but I hadn’t been bitten this time.

I quickly descended and was grateful to see my companions still in the thickets below. I informed them of my inability to locate the town. Harbinger confidently pointed in a direction southwest of where we were, stating that we should travel toward the farmlands where it was out of Elven territory and therefore safer to sleep for the night.

There was some discussion about just going back into town, grabbing our stuff, and fleeing, but it came down to the fact that we were given the opportunity to get out of that dismal place. Chances are if we went back, something bad would happen to us.

Once everyone was in agreement to head toward the farmlands, I then corrected Harbinger that the farmlands were southeast of where we were (if we truly were north of town.

As we walked, Bal Vyr asked Tornar how he became so scarred. The Dwarf’s eyes hooded over and he let a long sigh out.

“It’s a mite bit of a story,” Tornar began.

“We have all night really,” the Drow answered. The Dwarf gave a nod of his head and dove right into his tale. It was a lot he disclosed with us as he talked about how he left his home so long ago to pursue after his God, Kord. It was there, when he was learning and part of his initiation, that he fell into the hands of Ravagers of Erythnul.

“I, and some other clerics, were protecting a local village from these Ravagers. During the raid the other clerics were all killed or fled out of fear,” he described. A shudder worked up my spine. I remember when Rehm was raided. No one but ourselves where there to protect us. Meryth and I had barely escape, though my fate was sealed by the vicious blade I was stabbed with.

“Being young, I believed that I could fight them all off. Instead I was captured,” he continued. He then described the years of torture as they strived to corrupt him. How he’d get cut until he was nearly dead, only to be healed and repeat. He’d also be thrown into the pits to fight other Ravagers at unbeatable odds. A wooden sword was his weapon while they attacked with steel and poison.

There was a heaviness in my mind. As he retold his story in great detail, I couldn’t help but relive my time in Hell. I looked at my skin. The porcelain white that was marred only by the wounds I’ve obtained since my return. Underneath it, in my mind, lingered all the scars from Hell. However, I remained and never conceded to the dark ways of Erythnul. Tornar did not. Then again... I was never marked.

“Everyday, for years, they would torture me. At the end of the day they’d ask, ‘Do you accept The Many as your only God to do his will? Are you willing to do his work? If you say yes we will put down our blade.’

“I refused 2 years, spitting at their feet and declaring, ‘Kord is my protector.’ In the end it was too much for me. I grew weak and became a Ravager!” he said with contempt. No one spoke for it was clear how much Tornar loathed his failure. I hadn’t expected him to disclose the detail of what he ended up doing, but he did.

“I spent many years torturing innocent people, killing women and children. The most grievous part was the day I didn't even consider them to be people... just slabs of meat. About 36 years of my life was corrupted.”

A lightness suddenly came about his voice, “Thank Kord for taking pity on my soul for one day I was in my tent looking for my whetstone when I found a tiny scrap of paper saying, 'He who would use his might to destroy is at heart weak.' I don’t know how it got there, but it was part of a book of Kord's teachings I used to carry. At that moment my faith in Kord returned as did my morality. So I escaped the camp and ran as far as I could.”

Tornar looked to us, his eyes lined with worry knowing he had told us secrets that would make any person hate him. “Please friends,” he stated solemnly, “try not to judge me for my past actions. I realize I have made many mistakes but I am not a cruel nor evil man.”

No one spoke right away, but it was I who broke the silence, “I for one cannot judge you. I can’t really speak for everyone here, but I would think it safe to say we all have our past we wish to bury.” Tornar gave a nod as he acknowledged my words. “When did they place the mark of Erythnul upon you?” I asked.

“The very moment they captured me. One of the many things that immersed me into the Ravager’s culture,” the Dwarf answered. I nodded. It made sense to what I remembered of the mark. It wasn’t immediate that the evil would take over. Perhaps that was why Rekka killed herself... the evil began to consume her and she had just enough will power to prevent herself from becoming Erythnul’s tool.

However, how was it Tornar overcame the mark’s influence? Was he playing us or did Kord give him the strength to overcome it?

“You are very fortunate to have freed yourself of the mark’s influence,” I said. The Dwarf gave a single nod. “Now how did you come about the curse mark on your leg?” I asked, “We all woke up in a metal basin without a clue of how we got there. Last I recall was living in Dijon, France,” and had just invented a toilet.

“Actually, that’s exactly where I found myself Blackwing. Woke up in some metal bowl and began to make my way home,” Tornar answered.

“So how’d you end up imprisoned in Lake Town?” Bal Vyr asked.

“Like I said, I was making my way home. I ventured into that town hoping to make some money, but with the mark of Erythnul upon me, they took me prisoner saying they didn’t want any trouble from my kind. They didn’t even give me the option to leave.”

We fell silent again. We walked until we came to a river. If we followed it south, it would take us right into the Mayorless town. Harbinger placed Gendel on the ground and carefully removed his helmet. The crusader’s face was black with his mark and he groaned as came too. The Goliath moved a few paces away as Grendel took in his surroundings. Tornar walked to him and tried giving a hand to our comrade, but Grendel refused it. The Goliath then held out the helmet he took to which the crusader snatched it quickly from him.

“How are you feeling?” Harbinger asked. Grendel looked about us without answering the question. His eyes settled on Tornar.

“Dwarf, how did you join us?” he asked.

Tornar gave him a questioning look. “I was in the same prison as you,” he began, “Then we fought you and a bunch of other people and now we’re here.”

“Where are we and where are we going?” Grendel asked.

“Somewhere north of Lake Town and headed toward the farmland to camp for the night,” I answered.

“Maybe we should just camp here instead?” Bal Vyr suggested.

“Yeah, it would be a pain to get all of us across with all our armor and equipment,” Harbinger noted. I would have offered to fly some of the heavier things across, but without my full strength, I figured my attempts wouldn’t be as easy as I would like.

“Why are we here then?” Grendel asked.

“A lot has happened since we lost you-” the Goliath began.

“More like LEFT me!” the crusader accused.

“Left you?” Bal Vyr and I echoed, “I went back and looked for you for a little while,” the Drow continued.

“And I should trust your word?”

“You did before.”

“Why should I now?”

“Because we just saved you!” Bal Vyr spat, “Maybe we should have left you instead.”

“Why didn’t you?” Grendel seethed at us. I didn’t understand his disposition with everyone. He was acting so... child like!  

“Because you’re one of the group!” the Drow snapped. Then with a mocked voice to mimic Grendel said, “‘Why should I trust you?’ Seriously? I don’t know how your kind goes about it Grendel, but we’re not leaving a member behind!”

There was some silence as the tension hung thick in the air. Harbinger was the first to dare break it.

“Grendel, where did you go back when we entered that crypt?”

“I don’t know!” the crusader lamented. The Goliath tried explaining how they all had been teleported, leaving me behind, but Grendel snapped at him saying he hadn’t asked him for an explanation.

“Perhaps we should focus on getting some rest instead,” I said dryly.

“Yes, let us do that Blackwing,” Harbinger agreed. I heard the crusader scoff under his breathe at my new name. “Grendel, you’re welcome to stay with us, but if you’d rather, Lake Town is just down the river,” the Goliath continued.

“Well I plan on staying,” Trickfoot piped in. I was certainly thrilled to have his company. One more pleasant person among the Drow and crusader in the party.

I sat down since it sounded like we were to camp where we were by the river. Harbinger removed his armor and followed suit. I wrapped my cloak about me. It was going to be a colder night without the protection of my tent and bedroll, but at least it wasn’t winter.

“Trickfoot,” Bal Vyr called out as he, and the other’s began to sit down in a circle, “What happened to you? How were you caught?”

“Oh,” the Gnome began, seeming bothered by the memory, “I had finished performing at an Inn and as I made my leave, some men took me. Then for whatever reason they’ve been holding me in a cell.”

“At least you were only there a week. How long were you there Tornar?” Harbinger asked.

“Can’t say. I’ve lost track of time,” the Dwarf replied. I nodded. So have I, I thought to myself. I haven’t bothered to learn the new calendar system here, if it is all that new. I can count the days in my journal if I really wanted.

“Well, on a positive note, we did destroy the Mayor. Can you believe he was a wrath?” The Goliath said, trying to lighten the mood.

“What about that blood snake the robed figure transformed into?” Bal Vyr added.

“He turned into that?” I replied.

“Yeah.” The Drow then rubbed his neck where he was bitten.

“Did anyone else notice that he too had the mark and channeled it?” Harbinger mentioned. I jerked my head to look at him.

“No, I was too busy getting strangled,” Bal Vyr said.

”I noticed that,” Tornar said.

“Don’t you think it strange that not only was the Mayor some dark spirit, but he was being advised by someone else who has the mark? Let alone taking prisoners who were marked.” Harbinger let that hang on the air. If anything, the Goblins were right. There was a darkness in town and it very well could be us who bare the curse.

“Well I know nothing of this mark,” Tornar responded, gesturing to his leg.

“Did that man ever some and visit you Tornar? The robed one?” the Goliath asked.

“Or did anyone interrogate you or Trickfoot?” Bal Vyr asked.

“No,” both the Gnome and Dwarf answered.

Things got quiet and soon the Drow was conversing with Grendel (who sat a good distance from the rest of us) about the orb. As he did that, my attention was once more brought back to Tornar. I began to scan the magical auras about him. Sure enough, Erythnul’s mark lit up.

My stomach turned as worry of the mark overcame me. What if he tried branding us with it? Then I remembered Billy... he was nothing more than a faint memory of the world I came from... all of them were who I left behind. But the point is when I touched the marks of Heinul, they didn’t transfer like I was told. Then again, I remember watching my sister get marked, so it is true in the sense that Erythnul's mark alone transfers through touch. Surely the Dwarf's mark will act exactly how I remember.

“Araja, what is you history with Erythnul?” the Drow suddenly asked.

“Araja?” Tornar interrupted.

“My full name is Araja ‘Blackwing’ Eloirakn. Harbinger gave me my honorific. However you may call me by either,” I answered the Dwarf, “As to Erythnul, I was trained up to destroy him... but clearly I failed at that,” I replied nonchalantly.

“Yeah, taking out a deity never works, unless they’re a wimp like Pelor,” Bal Vyr stated. I cracked a smile.

“Why do you say that? He’s one of the few God’s alive, isn’t he?” I inquired.

“Oh yeah!” the Drow said with much enthusiasm. He reached into his pack and pulled out a journal, “I found this ballad that talks about our mark! Trickfoot, by chance do you know anything about it?” Bal Vyr asked as he flipped through the pages.

“Shh!” Abu suddenly said, snuffing the light spell he had going, “I hear something.” We all listened for a moment and sure enough, some faint voices were heard. I was certain some Elves came upon us..

I hunkered down with my cloak pulled about me and my wings shielding my face. I felt Harbinger duck down next to me and all I could hope for was that nothing bad would happen.

“They saw your light spell Abu,” Bal Vyr whispered, “and they saw it disappear. They think it might have been a will-o-wisp so they’re heading back.”

“Well lets get a move on it then!” I suggested, “We can continue down river toward the town.”

We then heard footsteps approach and all went silent again. Harbinger placed a hand on my exposed back as he shifted closer. I would have thought I’d’ve felt safer having him guarding me, but my heart continued to thump loudly as the Elves drew nigh. I peaked through my wings to see where everyone else was. I then heard armor clanking and saw Grendel take a few paces. Surprisingly, he made a motion suggesting we keep down. My eyes remained glued to him as he continued to walk toward what I was sure were Elves.

“Hail!” He called out. Some sharp whispers were exchanged before someone responded, “What human dares to enter our realm by night?”

“One who has communed with the Druidess about the Sylphsbane Clade.” The Elves were silent a moment, a single word being cursed under their breathe.

“What do you speak of?” an Elf went on.

“I speak of trying to eradication the human opposition to the Elf domain,” Grendel responded.

“We know of no such deal with the human scum. Surrender now or -or,” an Elf stuttered.

“You can try to kill me Elf, but it did not fare well for the last person. I mean you no harm and am just making my way to my camp outside these woods,” the crusader interrupted, “Will you allow me to do that with my Dwarf friend here?” My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t see Tornar, but I worried that pointing him out wouldn’t bode well.

The Elves began to bicker with each other, but after a minute, one of them finally said, “We care not what devious ploy you’re trying to attempt Human, but be on your way before you face the wrath of the Elf lands,” he said unconvincingly. There were hurried footsteps trailing away from us.

“Can we go now?” Grendel asked after a moment, clearly weary from... well everything I guess. Bal Vyr tried patting the crusader on the back, but was met with a growl.

“You know your hostile attitude may be why we didn’t get to you sooner,” the Drow stated..

“Perhaps,” Grendel said without humor.

“By the way, I did catch them saying they’re going to go report what happened here,” Bal Vyr added.

“So let’s go,” Tornar suggested. Harbinger called Dawn over and gave her instructions of ‘warning.’ She then darted off into the woods while we then continue down stream toward Lake Town.

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Grendel's Demon pt. 1

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Grendel’s Demon

Bal Vyr and Abu joined Harbinger and myself a few hours later. I had woken up to them entering the house from the catacombs. A different Clade member had brought them and gave the same warning about entering the catacombs alone.

We asked what the delay was all about since Harbinger and I were in the shack about 2 hours before I fell asleep. Who knows how long I was out when they finally arrived. Bal Vyr mentioned that there was someone following them and that was what detained them for longer than anticipated. They then informed us that they tried getting the Priests of St. Cuthbert to help as well as Myranda who helped us nearly 2 weeks ago when we first fought the undead in the graveyard. Then there were some of the dock folk that seemed likely to help, but all seemed ambivalent and very much dependant on if the Mayor was corrupt.

“So how long are we to wait here?” Bal Vyr asked.

“Someone is to come for us by tomorrow night,” Harbinger responded.

The Drow scoffed under his breath. “Why?”

“That’s how long it’ll take them to prepare.”

“So they say. Heaven knows if this’ll all turn out favorable for us,” I muttered.

We all then hunkered down and went to sleep. I forced myself to not think about the ‘what if’s’ that could make our plan go horribly wrong.

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We puttered around the shack for the most part of the day. I tried my best to distance myself from Harbinger to avoid making the other two uncomfortable. We nibbled on rations and I whipped out the cards I took from the Goblins (and considering they’re all alive again... I feel a little bad about that). I think the games saved our sanity for the most part.

Bal Vyr eventually sat down in a corner with a book. I paid no mind at first, but eventually curiosity got the better of me.

“Did you get that book from the Library?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh- yes I did,” he responded.

“Were you able to find anything useful while you were there?” Abu asked.

“Actually-” the Drow began before some footsteps were heard stopping outside the shack’s door. The door was unlocked and in entered our escorts from the night before.

“Okay, it’s time for you all to go to the Mayor now,” one of them said.

“Where will the Clade be?” Harbinger asked.

“We will be around. Go do your part and we’ll be doing ours,” he responded. Collectively, we all exhaled a sigh of reluctance, but I had no reason to believe they were setting us up. There was almost a sense of the less we knew, the better we’d be.

As a group we made our way over to the Town Hall. The sun had nearly set, casting the sky above in dark shades of purple and blue. The moon was half full and part of me wished I could just fly away from the mess we were in.

“Remember, the plan is to not give the Mayor the orb,” Harbinger stated.

“Duh. That’s why we left it back at camp,” Bal Vyr responded.

“No we didn’t,” I said, “It’s in my haversack.”

“Oh Heavens you did not bring that with you!” the Drow seethed. I lifted an eyebrow at the idiotic notion.

“And you think it’d been safer to have left it back at camp? What would have prevent someone from just waltzing in on our site and taking the deific item for themselves?” I snapped back.

“Actually, Dawn is at the campsite currently,” Harbinger added. 

“Doesn’t matter. I personally feel much safer to have it on my person so I can know exactly where it is and defend it properly if needed to,” I responded.

“Well it’ll certainly make it impossible to lie about orb,” the Drow stated bitterly.

“Says the guy who said that lying was futile the other night.”

“Will you two stop it! Or shall we have the whole town knowing about the item?” Abu snapped at us. The Drow and I held our tongues. The little spat put me even more on edge as we approached the Town Hall.

We had our usual entourage of guards to escort us. Shortly we were placed within the dim and murky room. The guards that guided us closed the doors and an echo of a lock sounded. It would seem they were anticipating some kind of confrontation.

A half dozen guards stood between us and the Mayor, the robed figure standing conspicuously behind him. It suddenly dawned on me in an eerie way as I looked at the anonymous personage. I was certain he was a mage of sorts and therefore quite possibly scryed upon us as we went about the Mayor’s request.

“I am so glad that you all made it safely home from the ordeal with the Goblins,” the Mayor began in his slow and punctuated tongue, “Were you able to locate the orb?”

“Don’t play dumb with us. You know very well how successful we were,” I said flatly. I looked on with narrowed eyes and my lips pressed in a thin line. The Mayor smiled at my smart.

“Then hand it over,” he demanded. Over my dead body, I thought.

“Not until you return our friends first!” Bal Vyr spoke. The smile vanished as the Town leader looked back with mild humor.

“If that is what you want.” He leaned over and pulled a lever. A rumbling behind the guards rattled the room. Some kind of platform lifted up and out of the ground, presenting Trickfoot. He looked even worse than when we saw him 5 days ago.

“Now hold on there! This is an unfair exchange! You’re giving us damaged goods!” Bal Vyr spat.

“Oh he wouldn’t have been so bad if you were hasty in your return,” the Mayor countered. Trickfoot scurried over to us, I holding out my hand for the old Gnome. I protectively positioned him behind myself and made no attempt to retrieve the orb as we demanded the release of Grendel. The Mayor seeming impatient with us, yet desiring the orb above all else, pulled another lever.

To the left of the room another platform arose presenting someone unfamiliar. It appeared to be a Dwarf man, but the scars that marred his skin and left his face beardless had me wondering if he was. As I observed his battle worn (or tortured...) skin, something else caught my attention. The mark of Erythnul!

I stared on in utter shock. What is on us!? I thought. It was comprehensible now why the curse we bore was different than I remembered, but there are elements that still don’t make sense. Like what had happened to Meryth? Wasn’t it her demon form I saved her from? Yet I couldn’t deny Erythnul’s mark as it stood before me. That is the mark of the evil I was suppose to destroy!

The anguish that built in me from my confusion made everything else around me vanish. My thoughts raced and I was only brought back when my introspection was interrupted as a third platform rumbled to the surface, presenting a recognizable dark figure; Grendel’s Demon.

I then realized that everyone was scattering throughout the room. Three guards charged toward me. I whipped out Lash’s scythe and began to make quick work of the men. My first swing took the closet guard to me down. I then prepared a fire bolt on the scythe as I caught sight of Harbinger raging toward the Mayor. My concentration almost broke as the political figure transformed into some spirit like wrath.

The two guards remaining hit me with their swords. I had tried to dodge one, but the blade left a gash on my cheek, hot blood streaming down my neck. I rendered a another guard dead as I swung the scythe again, igniting the fire bolt on him. The magic of the crystal in my weapon healed the wound on my face some, the pain subsiding a little.

With the one guard actively trying to render me, I placed another fire bolt on the scythe and struck hard. My attacker tried to avoid the hit, but ducked too slowly. The scythe cut his head clean off, the spell igniting it as it toppled away. It actually startled me some at how vigorously I had killed the man. With the three guards dead about my person, I looked toward the wraith that once was the Mayor. My quarrel was with him... and the cloaked figure. These men were just doing their job.

It was only a few short moments that those thoughts and feelings of remorse washed over me. With Grendel a demon, I had to focus once more to the fight at hand. He was more difficult to hit, so I attempted to work strategically with the Dwarf as he fought our comrade.

A strange sound caught my attention in the midst of the chaos. I looked to my left and I spotted Bal Vyr suddenly get grappled by a serpent like being. Unable to run to his aid, I threw a fire bolt at the creature. When I turned my focus back to Grendel, I looked right as he swung his fist into my chest. The square hit crack some ribs as the air was knocked from me. It burned as I tried to breathe.

I glared back at the demon of Grendel’s, trying hard to rationalize that he wasn’t in control despite knowing how much he hated me. I reminded myself he needed to be saved and for humor sake added, you’ve always wanted to get back at him for trying to kill Harbinger. Oddly enough, as I looked at Grendel, he seemed... bigger! The need to destroy his demon form triggered my adrenaline and gave me the strength to attack. I managed two hits, which did wonders for my chest. The fiery pain dulled to which breathing didn’t hurt so much.

Harbinger eventually joined us and after a few short blows, the demon crusader fell to his knees, then flat to the floor. We let out a collective sigh of relief. I looked about the room littered with bodies and was grate to see the fight was over.

In my scan of the room, the Mayor and the hooded bodyguard were no where to be seen. Bal Vyr, on the other hand, was free from the snake like creature, but looked really hurt. Abu was already assisting him and so I turned my attention to Trickfoot.

The Gnome was collapsed on the ground when I spotted him. I alerted Abu and when he was able, he came over to assist. As Trickfoot came too, I couldn’t help but overhear Harbinger and the Dwarf talking. The scarred man said his name was Tornar and Harbinger introduced himself with his full name.

“So A’aluke-”

“Just Harbinger,” the Goliath corrected.

“Uh, sure. Harbinger, what are you? How did you get so big during the fight?” Tornar asked. Harbinger told him that he was a Goliath and that his people’s blood runs thick with strength. His size increases to show the power of his soul. His body barely manages to contain the spirit of his people as it tries to break free. And all this time I thought it was a symptom of his anger.

“I see you have the same mark we bare. I guess that’s why the Mayor thought you were with us,” Harbinger stated. I looked to the Dwarf and sure enough, there on his right leg was the curse mark we all bore.

“What do you know about it!?” Tornar asked earnestly.

“Nothing really,” I blurted out. The Dwarf looked to me.

“Ah, that’s Blackwing,” Harbinger introduced, “She’s a fallen Angelic and she knows pretty much everything about the mark.”

“No I don’t,” I corrected, “I thought I did, but... with the mark of Erythnul clearly on his forehead, I haven’t a clue who’s behind the mark we all bear.”

“What do you know about Erythnul’s mark?” Tornar demanded. I let out a sigh, but did my best to explain it quickly.

“From where I came from, Erythnul was placing his mark on people to claim their souls and to prevent them from being Exalted into Heironious’s Kingdom-” I began to reply when the Dwarf doubled over. Bal Vyr stood behind Tornar, dagger in hand. There was a crazed look in his eyes before he said something incoherent and collapsed to the floor.

“What the hell was that!?” the Dwarf exclaimed.

“Um, Bal Vyr,” Harbinger replied, “But look, that creature must have bitten him.” We all gathered around to see what the Goliath saw. Sure enough there were some puncture wounds on his shoulder.

“I suspect he’s been poisoned,” Abu mentioned.

“That’d explain his random outburst,” I lied. Eventually the Drow’s paranoia of Dwarves would be revealed, but for the mean time, I figured it best to not mention that.

Harbinger and Abu worked to cure Bal Vyr. As they did that, the great doors unlocked and in walked a guard. It was the very guard that I remember the Drow chatting with the first time we came to the Town Hall, and it appeared Bal Vyr was right that he was an anarchist.

“Are you all going to just stand around and chat all night? People are coming and I need to get you out of here now!” Part of me wanted to counter that we were the one’s locked in and didn’t know we had an ally waiting outside, but alas getting away was more pressing.

Tornar lifted Bal Vyr over his shoulders while Harbinger grabbed the unconscious and marked ridden Grendel.

“You’re bringing that with you?” the Dwarf asked.

“He’s one of us,” the Goliath responded, “What we fought was an unfortunate side effect of the mark we bare.”

I let the two men lead the way, bringing up the rear with Trickfoot and Abu.

In the hallway, we saw the other guards that escorted us in, dead. Our alley was truly willing to assist us at the cost of his brothers in arm. He led us into a room and after fiddling with a wall, managed to open a secret passage that was behind a grand painting.

“Here,” he said, passing Tornar a piece of paper, “follow the map exactly! It will get you out of here. Best of luck.” He then turned on his heels and began to leave us.

We looked to the dark corridor. As a group we should be fine, but it was still unnerving to go back into the dark catacombs without a proper guide.

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