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Soul Mateys, Part 10


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#1 Guest_Laufey_and_Ophidia_*

Posted 04 November 2004 - 07:13 PM

Soul Mateys


Part Ten

There was a man on the bed, his britches partially unbuttoned, lying haphazardly against the headboard and quite, quite, dead. Blood trickled down his cheek, almost like tears from a ruined eye socket that was now simply a deep hole. His neck had a long, loose tear in it, and it was obvious that a lot of blood had flowed from the wound. The man’s clothes were dark and wet, and the grubby sheet-less mattress beneath him doughy with absorbed blood. As Andorel watched, the last trickle of blood from the wound dribbled to a halt, and the man’s head lolled to one side. By the bed, a young boy watched him with a combination of fear and aggression. His hands were red, and drips of blood ran down his thin arms until they reached rusty chains. A large bruise glowed purple on his pale face.

He stood up, frightened, yet alert and defiant. “I’ll kill you too if...” The boy stopped. “A...Andorel?”

“Vaddy!” The half-orc cried. “What in the Abyss happened here?” Another one of these dreams, another time...

“I didn’t want him to hurt the others.” The young Dekaras explained calmly. “So I killed him.”

Andorel shuddered briefly. “Well, from what I heard, he deserved it. If I ever find out who treated you like this, and who left you on that mountain, I’ll get very angry.”

“Why?” He asked, blankly.

Andorel looked blank in turn. “What d’ya mean, ‘why’?”

“It makes no difference to you,” Dekaras shrugged with an indifference that Andorel found sickening, “And it could put you in danger. So why waste your time? It’s not like I matter.”

“Waste my...no difference...matter...” Andorel suddenly snarled, yellow teeth bared, and threw his sword at the wall with a deafening scream. It stuck solidly in the plaster and vibrated slightly. “What the HELL did they do to you??”

The boy jumped a little, his dark eyes huge and startled at the half-orc’s violent reaction. Then it was as if a heavy steel curtain had fallen shut behind them, keeping all would-be intruders at bay. “I have no idea what you mean,” he said in a flat voice.

Lying through his teeth, of course. Andorel had to resist a sudden impulse to ask him if he’d also seen any flying pigs lately, but decided against it. Knowing Vaddy, he’d most likely go into a straight-faced story about airborne pork and how it affected the meat market, if he thought that could get Andorel to stop asking questions he didn’t want to answer. And getting angry wouldn’t help either, that would just make him clam up even worse. I will help him this time ‘round. I’m not messing it up again. “Oh yeah, I think you do,” Andorel said, not taking his eyes off the child in front of him. “And I think you’d feel much better for tellin’ me, but I guess I can’t make ya. So I’m just gonna start with gettin’ those chains off of ya, and we can talk more about it later.”

“I don’t need anybody to help me,” the young Dekaras defiantly said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it! He’s got the key on him, I was just about to search his pockets when you smashed the door in. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.”

“Right,” Andorel said, digging through the corpse’s blood-drenched clothes until he found the key in question. “Whatever. Well, you’re gettin’ this partic’lar half-orc, like it or not.” His thick fingers fumbled a little with the lock, but finally managed to turn the key, and then carefully removed the heavy manacles from the boy’s painfully thin wrists and ankles. Once that was done, he threw the chains onto the corpse with a grimace of disgust. “There. Now I’m taking you outa here, and then...” Then I will find out just who messed ya up this badly inside, and then I’ll make ‘em wish they’d been as lucky as this bastard was.

“Then what?” The watchful look on that small face reminded Andorel of some wild animal, alert and suspicious, ready to bolt or bite at the smallest threatening move. Seeing that look made him pull a little harder than was perhaps necessary as he yanked his sword out of the wall, wishing it had been embedded in somebody’s guts. Somebody deserves that for makin’ the lad look like that.

“Then,” Andorel said, “I’ll ‘waste my time’.”

“No.” Dekaras said, his eyes turning hard. “I won’t let you.”

Andorel snorted. “Go on, stop me then.” He crossed his muscular arms.

The boy glared at him, then shrugged. “I have to help the others.”

Andorel swallowed hard. “There are more kids here?”

“Follow me.” The boy opened the door and quickly ran away.

Andorel placed his sword on his back again, and then happened to glance at the ground. There it was, dark and still wet. Trail of blood again. Well, last time we didn’t follow it and I...failed. He chewed his lip, took a deep breath, and followed Dekaras through the door. Outside was a dingy hallway, its wooden wall panelling grey and cracked from years of neglect. Whatever varnish it had once had was long gone. The floor was splintery, and creaked under the weight of the burly half-orc. Andorel couldn’t see Dekaras anywhere, so he looked at the trail. Ok, left it is. He turned, and started to walk down the corridor.

“No, you’re going the wrong way! It’s this way.” The boy’s voice called out behind him.

Andorel turned round. “But the blood goes...”

“It’s this way.” Dekaras said, more firmly, his small triangular chin held high.

Andorel shrugged. “Ok, Vaddy, if you say so.” Can’t say I really wanted to follow that blood, anyway. Not with the lad in tow.

Dekaras pattered off down the corridor, the half-orc following him curiously. But then, it started to go wrong. The walls seemed to glow, and with each step, the glow got brighter. Andorel felt more and more uneasy. It may be a dream, but this was wrong, he could sense it. Gorion had always taught him to trust his common sense. Andorel glanced back, and realised with horror that the corridor behind him had simply vanished into a milky whiteness.

“Vaddy, this isn’t...”

The boy turned around to face him. “I said I didn’t want your help.” He replied, with a scowl. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“You’re my pal, and I’m gonna help you!”

“I don’t know you.” He said coldly. “I don’t trust you.” Then, in a softer voice. “I don’t trust anyone.”

I didn’t get through to him. Andorel thought in despair as the light got brighter and brighter. The figure of the boy in front of him wavered and disappeared into the searing light. Blue vines sprang out of the cracks in the half-orc’s armour, but he barely noticed as they wrapped him around, covering him, cocooning him. He let out one final mental howl before the vines surrounded him completely.

I failed again!


The sudden light was searing, almost painful. Dekaras hastily put a hand up to shield his eyes, and when he lowered it again, he was...elsewhere. Once again, there was the uncomfortable sensation of memories scattering as he tried to hold on to them. Only a vague sense of intrusion lingered behind, of somebody getting too close, but he couldn’t remember what had caused it. Well, he could do nothing about it right now. Better to find out where he was.

There was still bright light surrounding him, but now it was regular sunlight, a little too hot for comfort. Blue cloudless sky above the rooftops...yes, he was in a city. He was standing in a vast and roughly oval plaza, with marble walls and walkways leaning in above him, but the comforting shadows they cast were out of reach. It made him feel uneasy, he knew all too well how easy it was for a skilled sniper to take out a target in a place such as this, and he decided to head for the walls at once.

Around him, there were dozens of stalls and small shops, both built into the houses and open stands selling simpler wares. Pretty much every trade and craft seemed represented, and the cries of the hawkers trying to entice customers sounded like eagerly aggressive birdcalls. Fine carpets...vegetables...spices...little dancing wooden puppets...kitchen utensils...silk...everywhere he turned his eyes there were things being sold, bought and traded. Well, I am not here to go shopping. I need...I need to find somebody. Andorel. I need to find Andorel.

Other memories were leaking back now, memories of where he was. Andorel’s mind. He had come here to try to help the half-orc, but something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. The bridge. The river. Edwin...laughter, bright and mocking. Andorel, shrinking in on himself, crushed by guilt. And he had... No...no! What did I do? But he knew, he knew all too well, and he could feel his insides twisting with shame. He’d lost control of himself again, and he’d almost killed Andorel in his fury. He’d given in to the temptation of Bhaal.

Close, my fosterling. Close, but not quite right. The voice inside his mind was slightly mocking still, but serious.

Get out of my head. Now. I let you provoke me before, but not again.

That was not I, my fosterling. You did that all on your own...you hide plenty of rage behind that cool facade of yours, don’t you?

What I hide is no business of yours. Leave me alone.

No. You must understand what is going on here, if you want to help your friend...my son.

Dekaras sneered. Please don’t try to convince me that you care if I help him or not. You want him dead.

Oh yes, I do...but not like this, and not now. It is too soon. For now, he is far more valuable to me alive and sane than dead or ruined by what you passed on to him. You are used to it, but it is driving him insane, and then he will be no good. The voice chuckled. So listen to me now...and then go aid your brother. He needs it.

Dekaras paused thoughtfully. He might as well ask- it was not like he had to take the God’s advice, was it? How can I help him?

You already know. I am the echo of a dead God. I cannot tell you anything you do not know already, in your mind, in your heart, in the marrow. The voice continued, edged with a bitter self-mockery. It is not often I say this, but seek clarity and calm.

The voice faded from his mind. Now, where could the warrior be? He could see no sign of him. He shaded his eyes and tried to spot the glint of sun on metal. A sharp flash caught his eyes- no, it was just a sign. A sign for an Inn. Hmm.

Dekaras strode in the direction of the Inn, confident that Andorel would be in there, when the world changed.





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