Session IX: Urban Warfare
“If you had walked up to me one hundred years ago and told me that I would one day aid in the salvation of the great metropolis of Eberus, I’d likely laugh at you and then slip a blade between your ribs. I was once an awful man. I’m not sure why I agreed to train under Fu-Long to be honest. Despite that smirk that is constantly painted across his godforsaken fucking face, I knew he was truly wicked from the first time I laid eyes on him. I’d like to say that I agreed only because my father wanted it so badly. He needed an edge over the other families in Tvan, and who better to train under such an expert than his own son? In truth, I wanted the chance as much as my father wanted it for me. I wanted to be powerful; I wanted to be the strongest elf to ever live. Father always thought Scios was far too soft for such a path and despite the fact that I was older than most students Fu-Long took in, he said he saw something in me. His intuitions proved to be quite correct since I was the first one of his successful “experiments.” But that’s another story…
“I awoke from my trance with the sunrise, chills from the frosty ground running up and down my spine. Since I was the first one up aside from Ebon who was standing watch, I decided to bathe before the unthinkably challenging mission that lay before us. If I was going to die, I was going to die clean. The water was extremely cold, but the numbness felt refreshing, bringing tingles of sensation throughout my limbs. When everyone awoke, Kranek and Semish joined me while little brother complained about the temperature and something about preparing mentally or some such nonsense. Kranek and I sparred, which was decidedly better than sitting around thinking about the enormity of the situation we had found ourselves in. We had just broken the others out of prison, and we were about to head back into the very city that imprisoned us to save it from thieves and horrid night beasts. We knew not what we would face, nor how drastically outnumbered we would be.
“When the sun rose closer to midday, when the parade of Shield-meet was to start, we decided to divvy out what little amount of potions and other trinkets we had. I coated weapons in poison for those who wished (notably not Ebon’s) and advised that we left. We snuck in through the same nook in the wall we left through and got into position in several ally ways that were particularly hard to spot. Cinder and I were in the middle, Kranek and Semish on the right and Ebon and little brother on the left. Fara took position on the flat roof of a storage shed so she could give us covering fire when needed. With a groan, the gates to the Bluelake District opened and out came Vorogar’s entourage.
“Even in his senior years, Vorogar is still an impressive looking man. A lightning affinity, his long grey and blonde beard falls well onto his chest, and his ornate helm of gold compliments his silver breastplate wonderfully. At his side is his mighty sword, and I’m not sure if we crossed blades that I could even walk away. Vorogar is revered by many in the now mercenary city of Eberus, and the cheers as he waved adoringly were nearly deafening. Suddenly though, there was a moment of silence as we all stared awestricken (Vorogar included) at his hand, now pouring blood from a crossbow bolt straight through. The cheers suddenly became screams of horror (that were just as deafening) as many shoemaker thugs came from seemingly every door and every mob. I drew the falchion that Gonok had held the previous night. These were the kind of men that I enjoyed killing.
“I charged with reckless abandon at the three foolish enough to stand in front of me, fading into invisibility as I went. With a graceful tumble, I was behind the first and hacking at his vitals, Cinder not far behind to finish the job. I saw many thugs move in on Kranek and Semish, but every free moment I had I looked toward little brother to ensure he was safe. As expected, Fara dropped a volley of arrows onto our opponents bringing more of them down in writhing pain. I heard Kranek scream, but at nearly the same time I saw little brother being stabbed just below the stomach. After hacking his enemy to pieces, he fell to the ground and vomited a horrid black substance; he was poisoned by the thief’s blade. Black lotus extract.
“Without any thought of my own safety, I melded with the ethereal plain and ran to his location as fast as I could. Landing in a roll by his feet, I handed him a powerful antitoxin. It wouldn’t stop the pain immediately, but it would kill the poison flowing through his veins. I moved to go help Kranek, but by the time I got there I could see that he and Semish could handle themselves. Semish pierced the heart of a particularly large thug with his flaming spear as I rounded the corner. I thought we could get into Bluelake before we had originally projected, until I looked to the center of the park where the primary battle between Vorogar’s mercenaries and the rest of the Shoemaker thugs was raging. I turned just in time to see a vanguard of epic proportions. Wearing so much steel armor that the only his eyes could be seen and holding a mighty axe and an even mightier shield, I knew this man’s reputation well. Bersq “The Skullsplitter,” a mercenary feared by all men, since he would work for anyone who gave him the most coin regardless of morality. He sundered the head of one of Vorogar’s most trusted captains as if he was cutting through parchment and stared straight in my direction. I wondered what his interest was with me. We had certainly never crossed blades before, and I couldn’t see why he’d even know of me. After those seconds of contemplation I looked behind me and realized who he was staring at so intently looked: Cinder Sunstriker.
“With a voice that sounded like stone grinding against iron, he spoke: “Ah Cinder, “The Red Dragon.” You’ve killed a lot of men, and I respect you for that. Let’s see how capable you are when I cut you in two!” With a solemn stare and a hearty drink from his wine, Cinder accepted the one on one challenge. We wouldn’t dare interfere with such a challenge, even if it meant Cinder’s death. Several crossbow wielding thieves came from seemingly nowhere onto a balcony roughly thirty feet above, and the remaining survivors of the melee that had just occurred in the park seemed intent on fighting those of us not involved in the contest between the two rapidly growing legends, and I welcomed the chance to slay more of the wicked men.
“I charged, still holding the mighty shocking falchion, straight into the middle, opting to save my ki power for more challenging fare staying visible the entire distance. My first adversary was clearly well trained; he dodged my attack with ease, countering with a thrust of his sword into my abdomen. I recognized what had happened even before my limbs rapidly began to stiffen. Carrion crawler brain juice; one dose could stun an elephant. I thought I was a goner as the hideous man in front of me raised his sword, but in a flash Ebon was upon him, jabbing his sword point numerous times into the man’s gut. Kranek came from behind, grabbed an antitoxin from my belt and force fed it to me. I regained motion and feeling just as I saw Altea bolting across the open field, in a flash jumping upon a shoemaker thug and raking the flesh from his skin with her razor sharp claws.
I heard the sounds of battle inside the abandoned warehouse with the balcony on which the crossbow wielding rogues were perched. I scanned the area and began to panic. Scios was missing, likely lost in the battle within the building. I started toward the structure, but I needed to focus my attention on the incoming volley of crossbow bolts, which were likely also dipped into some sort of lethal poison. I ran closer to the balcony when I was intercepted by a man. I was more prepared this time, however, and quickly drew a poisoned hand axe from my belt and drove it deeply into his neck. Leaving the axe in his throat, I stopped for a moment to try and regain my composure. Where was little brother? In a flash he appeared, screaming the words I had taught him myself, “Dazzling Light!” he jabbed his sword point into the air hundreds of times, creating pockets of pure energy where there once was nothing. All at once, the energy exploded into searing thin lines, throwing many of the thieves off of their perch with a sickening crack. Relieved, but still concerned for his safety I charged the balcony easily jumping to its thirty foot height in a corkscrew, performing a dazzling light of my own. Trying to appear as uncaring as he, I simply said “Leave some for me, huh?”
“Soon, the fight with the thugs had ended. With the last dying screams, I sheathed my new sword and was ready to head to Bluelake when I looked in shock at the spectacle before me: The fight between Bersq and Cinder still raged on in full flow. I shut my eyes tightly as I saw Bersq’s mighty axe plunge deeply into Cinder’s shoulder. When I heard Cinder’s scream, I thought that the battle had ended. When I opened my eyes again though, Cinder simply clenched his teeth, ripped the axe free from its grip deep within his flesh and doused the bloody gash with wine. With a flash, he had switched swords from White Lilly to Ender and forced Bersq back an entire ten feet, his metal grieves scraping against the rocks of the ground with a caustic noise. Before Bersq could regain his composure, Cinder continued the assault with his legendary attack that Jerreck Towerblade himself had taught him; Earth fist. With a punch to the ground, the earth at the giant’s feet exploded into a cloud of dirt, grass and rock. Bersq, nearly blinded, and Cinder, nearly bled out both ran at full speed for the axe that lay on the ground roughly twenty feet behind them. Although Cinder got his hands on it first, he wasn’t ready for a hard punch in the jaw from Bersq’s gauntleted hand. With a slight stagger backward, Cinder continued his assault now wielding Bersq’s own axe and lands several hits, despite Bersq’s famed “Impenetrable Shield Wall Technique.” Bersq, all the while desperately clutching for the axe was utterly awestricken when his shield was sundered in two with his own axe at the hands of the Red Dragon. I let out a whistle at this point, almost subconsciously. This was a clash between two masters of their trade. When all seemed over for the mighty vanguard, once so haughty and proud but now practically exuding humility, he found hold on the hilt of his mighty axe and ripped it free from Cinder’s grip, which had been weakened by an immeasurable amount of pain. Although Cinder drew White Lilly before any of us could blink, Bersq anticipated this and caught the mighty blade in between the hilt and blade of his axe, pulling it from the swordsman’s hands. Another well placed blow and it appeared the Cinder might lose after all, until Ender came out deftly striking Bersq in the side of the head. Bersq the Skullsplitter, so strong and proud died kneeling. In a flash, Ender split his skull. What a fitting end, is it not?
“Cinder fell next to his enemy pouring the remainder of his wine onto his shoulder. Semish desperately scrambled to his most trusted companion and healed him, and Cinder struggled to his feet alert to the sound we now all heard. The sound was unmistakable: clapping. The sound was coming from none other than Jask McCandless, one of the most wicked men to ever walk the streets of Eberus. He was the head of the “Esteemed Shoemakers Guild of Eberus,” a short man, even by gnome standards standing just three feet tall wielding a wicked blade and wearing deep red leathers studded with gold. Next to him stood several of his thugs and another individual to fear greatly, Johnny Two-Cuts. Johnny was an extremely handsome light affinity wearing deep blue leathers and holding two hand axes doused in deadly poison. He was the head of assassinations for the Shoemakers, and he was rightly feared by many. Level with Fara, little brother and I on the balcony were several thieves wielding crossbows on the Bluelake wall. Jask spoke up as both sides sized each other up and down. “Bluelake is already taken, you waste your efforts!”
Something prolific happened to me at that point. For the first time in my entire long life, I lost my composure. Not just for a beat of the heart either, I lost it completely and utterly. So many people had died at the order of these men. They deserved to die. Ignoring the volley of arrows, bolts and spells that soared by me as I went I jumped and tumbled from the balcony, somehow ending up on my feet and continuing my charge. I could not fathom why in the state of mind I was in, but a wall of fire had appeared in my way. I judged it’s height as I neared closer; in the corner of my eye I could see a fight raging between a hole in the fire. Altea looked nearly dead, but Jask appeared entirely stunned likely by Cinder’s short sword coated in carrion crawler brain juice. I scaled the twenty foot wall of flames with ease, and landed on the other side, immediately setting my gaze on Johnny Two-Cuts. My blade clashed against his two axes and though the heat emanating from the wall of flame was excruciating, I paid it no mind. I wounded him grievously, but somehow he managed to escape. I charged the few that remained, stepping on Jask’s face as I went, and turned my head just in time to see Johnny clutch at his chest as one of Fara’s arrows pierced his black heart.
“I did my best to rid myself of the anger that welled inside of me when we saw Jerrek Towerblade come running from the west. He was haggard and covered in blood, but none of it appeared to be his. Before we could congratulate ourselves, however, at least four dozen shoemaker thugs came from the southeast. It was likely the last of them, but we knew that some of us desperately needed to go to Bluelake before it was too late. Kranek, myself and Jerrek charged the thugs, wading into melee. Thoughts began to cloud my mind as my eyes became glazed over with this newfound rage within me. What am I doing here? Why am I risking my life for this? Can I really kill four dozen men without first dying myself? No. There is no time for thought. “Go to Bluelake!” I shouted amongst the dying screams of the rogues.
Stay strong, little brother.
-Krainus Ravenlock, Repented Villain.
“I awoke from my trance with the sunrise, chills from the frosty ground running up and down my spine. Since I was the first one up aside from Ebon who was standing watch, I decided to bathe before the unthinkably challenging mission that lay before us. If I was going to die, I was going to die clean. The water was extremely cold, but the numbness felt refreshing, bringing tingles of sensation throughout my limbs. When everyone awoke, Kranek and Semish joined me while little brother complained about the temperature and something about preparing mentally or some such nonsense. Kranek and I sparred, which was decidedly better than sitting around thinking about the enormity of the situation we had found ourselves in. We had just broken the others out of prison, and we were about to head back into the very city that imprisoned us to save it from thieves and horrid night beasts. We knew not what we would face, nor how drastically outnumbered we would be.
“When the sun rose closer to midday, when the parade of Shield-meet was to start, we decided to divvy out what little amount of potions and other trinkets we had. I coated weapons in poison for those who wished (notably not Ebon’s) and advised that we left. We snuck in through the same nook in the wall we left through and got into position in several ally ways that were particularly hard to spot. Cinder and I were in the middle, Kranek and Semish on the right and Ebon and little brother on the left. Fara took position on the flat roof of a storage shed so she could give us covering fire when needed. With a groan, the gates to the Bluelake District opened and out came Vorogar’s entourage.
“Even in his senior years, Vorogar is still an impressive looking man. A lightning affinity, his long grey and blonde beard falls well onto his chest, and his ornate helm of gold compliments his silver breastplate wonderfully. At his side is his mighty sword, and I’m not sure if we crossed blades that I could even walk away. Vorogar is revered by many in the now mercenary city of Eberus, and the cheers as he waved adoringly were nearly deafening. Suddenly though, there was a moment of silence as we all stared awestricken (Vorogar included) at his hand, now pouring blood from a crossbow bolt straight through. The cheers suddenly became screams of horror (that were just as deafening) as many shoemaker thugs came from seemingly every door and every mob. I drew the falchion that Gonok had held the previous night. These were the kind of men that I enjoyed killing.
“I charged with reckless abandon at the three foolish enough to stand in front of me, fading into invisibility as I went. With a graceful tumble, I was behind the first and hacking at his vitals, Cinder not far behind to finish the job. I saw many thugs move in on Kranek and Semish, but every free moment I had I looked toward little brother to ensure he was safe. As expected, Fara dropped a volley of arrows onto our opponents bringing more of them down in writhing pain. I heard Kranek scream, but at nearly the same time I saw little brother being stabbed just below the stomach. After hacking his enemy to pieces, he fell to the ground and vomited a horrid black substance; he was poisoned by the thief’s blade. Black lotus extract.
“Without any thought of my own safety, I melded with the ethereal plain and ran to his location as fast as I could. Landing in a roll by his feet, I handed him a powerful antitoxin. It wouldn’t stop the pain immediately, but it would kill the poison flowing through his veins. I moved to go help Kranek, but by the time I got there I could see that he and Semish could handle themselves. Semish pierced the heart of a particularly large thug with his flaming spear as I rounded the corner. I thought we could get into Bluelake before we had originally projected, until I looked to the center of the park where the primary battle between Vorogar’s mercenaries and the rest of the Shoemaker thugs was raging. I turned just in time to see a vanguard of epic proportions. Wearing so much steel armor that the only his eyes could be seen and holding a mighty axe and an even mightier shield, I knew this man’s reputation well. Bersq “The Skullsplitter,” a mercenary feared by all men, since he would work for anyone who gave him the most coin regardless of morality. He sundered the head of one of Vorogar’s most trusted captains as if he was cutting through parchment and stared straight in my direction. I wondered what his interest was with me. We had certainly never crossed blades before, and I couldn’t see why he’d even know of me. After those seconds of contemplation I looked behind me and realized who he was staring at so intently looked: Cinder Sunstriker.
“With a voice that sounded like stone grinding against iron, he spoke: “Ah Cinder, “The Red Dragon.” You’ve killed a lot of men, and I respect you for that. Let’s see how capable you are when I cut you in two!” With a solemn stare and a hearty drink from his wine, Cinder accepted the one on one challenge. We wouldn’t dare interfere with such a challenge, even if it meant Cinder’s death. Several crossbow wielding thieves came from seemingly nowhere onto a balcony roughly thirty feet above, and the remaining survivors of the melee that had just occurred in the park seemed intent on fighting those of us not involved in the contest between the two rapidly growing legends, and I welcomed the chance to slay more of the wicked men.
“I charged, still holding the mighty shocking falchion, straight into the middle, opting to save my ki power for more challenging fare staying visible the entire distance. My first adversary was clearly well trained; he dodged my attack with ease, countering with a thrust of his sword into my abdomen. I recognized what had happened even before my limbs rapidly began to stiffen. Carrion crawler brain juice; one dose could stun an elephant. I thought I was a goner as the hideous man in front of me raised his sword, but in a flash Ebon was upon him, jabbing his sword point numerous times into the man’s gut. Kranek came from behind, grabbed an antitoxin from my belt and force fed it to me. I regained motion and feeling just as I saw Altea bolting across the open field, in a flash jumping upon a shoemaker thug and raking the flesh from his skin with her razor sharp claws.
I heard the sounds of battle inside the abandoned warehouse with the balcony on which the crossbow wielding rogues were perched. I scanned the area and began to panic. Scios was missing, likely lost in the battle within the building. I started toward the structure, but I needed to focus my attention on the incoming volley of crossbow bolts, which were likely also dipped into some sort of lethal poison. I ran closer to the balcony when I was intercepted by a man. I was more prepared this time, however, and quickly drew a poisoned hand axe from my belt and drove it deeply into his neck. Leaving the axe in his throat, I stopped for a moment to try and regain my composure. Where was little brother? In a flash he appeared, screaming the words I had taught him myself, “Dazzling Light!” he jabbed his sword point into the air hundreds of times, creating pockets of pure energy where there once was nothing. All at once, the energy exploded into searing thin lines, throwing many of the thieves off of their perch with a sickening crack. Relieved, but still concerned for his safety I charged the balcony easily jumping to its thirty foot height in a corkscrew, performing a dazzling light of my own. Trying to appear as uncaring as he, I simply said “Leave some for me, huh?”
“Soon, the fight with the thugs had ended. With the last dying screams, I sheathed my new sword and was ready to head to Bluelake when I looked in shock at the spectacle before me: The fight between Bersq and Cinder still raged on in full flow. I shut my eyes tightly as I saw Bersq’s mighty axe plunge deeply into Cinder’s shoulder. When I heard Cinder’s scream, I thought that the battle had ended. When I opened my eyes again though, Cinder simply clenched his teeth, ripped the axe free from its grip deep within his flesh and doused the bloody gash with wine. With a flash, he had switched swords from White Lilly to Ender and forced Bersq back an entire ten feet, his metal grieves scraping against the rocks of the ground with a caustic noise. Before Bersq could regain his composure, Cinder continued the assault with his legendary attack that Jerreck Towerblade himself had taught him; Earth fist. With a punch to the ground, the earth at the giant’s feet exploded into a cloud of dirt, grass and rock. Bersq, nearly blinded, and Cinder, nearly bled out both ran at full speed for the axe that lay on the ground roughly twenty feet behind them. Although Cinder got his hands on it first, he wasn’t ready for a hard punch in the jaw from Bersq’s gauntleted hand. With a slight stagger backward, Cinder continued his assault now wielding Bersq’s own axe and lands several hits, despite Bersq’s famed “Impenetrable Shield Wall Technique.” Bersq, all the while desperately clutching for the axe was utterly awestricken when his shield was sundered in two with his own axe at the hands of the Red Dragon. I let out a whistle at this point, almost subconsciously. This was a clash between two masters of their trade. When all seemed over for the mighty vanguard, once so haughty and proud but now practically exuding humility, he found hold on the hilt of his mighty axe and ripped it free from Cinder’s grip, which had been weakened by an immeasurable amount of pain. Although Cinder drew White Lilly before any of us could blink, Bersq anticipated this and caught the mighty blade in between the hilt and blade of his axe, pulling it from the swordsman’s hands. Another well placed blow and it appeared the Cinder might lose after all, until Ender came out deftly striking Bersq in the side of the head. Bersq the Skullsplitter, so strong and proud died kneeling. In a flash, Ender split his skull. What a fitting end, is it not?
“Cinder fell next to his enemy pouring the remainder of his wine onto his shoulder. Semish desperately scrambled to his most trusted companion and healed him, and Cinder struggled to his feet alert to the sound we now all heard. The sound was unmistakable: clapping. The sound was coming from none other than Jask McCandless, one of the most wicked men to ever walk the streets of Eberus. He was the head of the “Esteemed Shoemakers Guild of Eberus,” a short man, even by gnome standards standing just three feet tall wielding a wicked blade and wearing deep red leathers studded with gold. Next to him stood several of his thugs and another individual to fear greatly, Johnny Two-Cuts. Johnny was an extremely handsome light affinity wearing deep blue leathers and holding two hand axes doused in deadly poison. He was the head of assassinations for the Shoemakers, and he was rightly feared by many. Level with Fara, little brother and I on the balcony were several thieves wielding crossbows on the Bluelake wall. Jask spoke up as both sides sized each other up and down. “Bluelake is already taken, you waste your efforts!”
Something prolific happened to me at that point. For the first time in my entire long life, I lost my composure. Not just for a beat of the heart either, I lost it completely and utterly. So many people had died at the order of these men. They deserved to die. Ignoring the volley of arrows, bolts and spells that soared by me as I went I jumped and tumbled from the balcony, somehow ending up on my feet and continuing my charge. I could not fathom why in the state of mind I was in, but a wall of fire had appeared in my way. I judged it’s height as I neared closer; in the corner of my eye I could see a fight raging between a hole in the fire. Altea looked nearly dead, but Jask appeared entirely stunned likely by Cinder’s short sword coated in carrion crawler brain juice. I scaled the twenty foot wall of flames with ease, and landed on the other side, immediately setting my gaze on Johnny Two-Cuts. My blade clashed against his two axes and though the heat emanating from the wall of flame was excruciating, I paid it no mind. I wounded him grievously, but somehow he managed to escape. I charged the few that remained, stepping on Jask’s face as I went, and turned my head just in time to see Johnny clutch at his chest as one of Fara’s arrows pierced his black heart.
“I did my best to rid myself of the anger that welled inside of me when we saw Jerrek Towerblade come running from the west. He was haggard and covered in blood, but none of it appeared to be his. Before we could congratulate ourselves, however, at least four dozen shoemaker thugs came from the southeast. It was likely the last of them, but we knew that some of us desperately needed to go to Bluelake before it was too late. Kranek, myself and Jerrek charged the thugs, wading into melee. Thoughts began to cloud my mind as my eyes became glazed over with this newfound rage within me. What am I doing here? Why am I risking my life for this? Can I really kill four dozen men without first dying myself? No. There is no time for thought. “Go to Bluelake!” I shouted amongst the dying screams of the rogues.
Stay strong, little brother.
-Krainus Ravenlock, Repented Villain.