About Blood 30: Prism and Greywolf

30: Prism and Greywolf

It was a few hours later and the moon sickle was already clearly visible in the sky. Viconia gave the object in the sky a glare and continued her walk. Despite the moon and the stars she clearly was more at ease in the nightly surroundings. The others were less comfortable, though all of them walked pretty sure footed. Montaron being a thief, Xzar having studied his craft in dark places and Talek being used to guard at night.

“Man. It’s bloody late. If we don’t find this Prism guy soon we won’t be getting up before noon tomorrow.” Talek commented.

“Eh… Doesn’t have to be a problem.” Montaron commented. “The time between sundown and midnight can be pretty interesting if ye know what to look for. First hours after dawn are for roosters and farmers I say. Don’t suppose the drow’ll have a problem with that?”

“If it were up to me, I’d avoid your accursed sun entirely. It burns my eyes and skin.” The drow scowled. “But I would appreciate any time spent at night.”

Talek shrugged. “Noon to after midnight it is then. Just hope I won’t go TOO pale. Guess I’ll have to make the most of the daylight hours we get then. At least I’m not tired y…”

“Quiet…” Viconia said. “Someone is there.” She pointed at a point in the darkness.

“Where?” Talek tried to see something.

“Don’t hurt yer eyes boy. Infravision. The drow grew up in places darker than a clear night. The rest of ye stay here. I’m checking it out.” Montaron whispered and quietly disappeared in the shadows. Viconia narrowed her eyes for a while before frowning and settling to wait with Xzar and Talek. After a while the halfling appeared behind them. Talek and Viconia jumped slightly at his unexpected arrival.

“We’ve got our mark. Some fool artsy type setting the stones in a statue. I could see the little babies winking at me. He didn’t notice me, but I’ve got the feeling he wouldn’t notice me till I cut his tendons.” Montaron grinned.

“Oghma’s balls. Do you HAVE to sneak up on us like that?” Talek said. “How the hell do you do that anyway? I WAS looking out for you.”

Viconia gave the halfling a stare as well. “You seem to be used to walk among darkness, thief.”

“Part of the job. And before ye ask. No, I’ve got no intention to become a Sharran. I like living a bit too much for that. I pay my dues to Mask so I won’t become part of Kelemvor’s real-estate and that’s that.” Montaron shrugged.

“Hm…. A follower of the Usurper of Shadows are you?” Viconia said.

Montaron rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s leave politics out of this and get down to business.” He took off, followed by the others.

Moments later they reached the artist. He wasn’t making any effort of hiding. As they came closer they heard his tools chipping away at the stone. The party calmly walked towards him. The man looked tired and famished. His eyes were focused feverishly on the statue he was working on. It was a statue of a regal looking elven woman. As Viconia saw it her eyes narrowed.

“A darthir. The pathetic rivvil is mooning over a surface elf! Typical!” She almost spat.

Montaron grinned. “Took some old hatreds with ye from the Underdark for souvenirs?”

“I may be exile, but I am still drow, halfling.” She glared at the statue as if she wanted to smash it. “The surface-elves made THAT sufficiently clear.”

“Heh, so hanging with you will get them angry at me too eh?” Talek grinned. “Saves me the trouble, I guess.”

“The surface and the drow elves both. If servants of Lolth spot me, they will hunt me more merciless then any surface elf.” She gave Talek a challenging stare. “Doesn’t that frighten you?”

Talek chuckled. “I’ve stopped worrying about what my OWN kind thinks of me. I ain’t even gonna start worrying what pointy ears of various colours think of me.” He gave her a questioning stare as they were almost upon the sculptor. “Why DID you take off anyway?”

“That is too personal a question.” Viconia said harshly.

Talek frowned for a moment. “Fine, fine. I was just curious. Sorry I asked.” His face lightened up. “Anyway, let’s settle this.”

Talek passed Montaron and drew his sword. “Hey, your name’s Prism right?”

The man turned around. He spoke hastily, as if he could hardly spare the time to address the armed man. “Yes, that’s me. You’ve heard of me?” Suddenly he saw the sword. “Ah… y… you are here for the jewels.”

“That… and the bounty.” Talek grinned as he tapped the sword on the palm of his gauntlet.

Montaron gave an annoyed sigh. “Do we HAVE to announce what we’re planning to do? Personally I’d have preferred to just put a bolt in his head without the yapping.”

“Ah, don’t be a grump Monty.” Xzar cooed.

“Please… I beg you. My work is not done yet. Give me… a few minutes… I have to finish it… for ‘her’.” Prism pleaded.

Talek shook his head. “Nope, sorry. I’m not the patient sort. We’ve been looking for hours and I’m a bit tired of these hills. Draw steel and let’s get busy.” He got in a combat stance.

There were a few moments as Talek waited and looked at the artist.

“You don’t have a weapon?” He lowered his sword. The boy sounded crestfallen.

“Euh… no… I’m an artist. I never had much of a stomach for fighting.” The artist sounded almost apologetic.

Talek thought for a few moments. “Montaron. Give him your sword!”

“Oh you’ve GOTTA be kidding me!” The halfling exclaimed. “What? Ye want me to be a witness as well? Need a glove to slap him in the face or something?”

“Just give him a bloody sword!” Talek yelled back.

“I can’t waste my time fighting.” Prism turned around and got back to work on the statue, chiselling away at the finely tuned nose. “I have to finish this. I must. Just a few more minutes.”

Talek looked frustrated as the artist ignored him. “What…? Turn around and FIGHT damn it!” He sliced the air with his sword to emphasize, but didn’t get a reaction.

“He ain’t playing, boy.” Montaron drew his sword. “I’ll do the deed. Don’t worry, ye’ve done yer share of the killing.” Montaron stepped forward, but Talek’s left hand stopped him.

The swordsman stared at the back of his mark. He looked serious. “No… I’ll do it.”

“Ye sure? I’ve done this kinda thing before. Doesn’t bother me.” Montaron offered.

“My father always said you shouldn’t hide from things.” Talek said as he raised his sword. “And besides… I… want to find out.” He licked his lips. “Hey Montaron, if I’d… kill him now, that’d be murder, right?”

Montaron smirked. “According to Amnish law, the guy’s an outlaw, but I doubt ye’re talking legalities. Yeah, I guess his is as close to cold-blooded murder as a hot-head like you can get.”

Talek nodded slowly. “Yeah… he isn’t attacking me or just attacked me. He’s not threatening anybody, and I don’t think he is. He didn’t even insult me. I’ve got nothing against him. So if I kill him…” The sword was brought to the side, readied to strike.

Xzar giggled. Viconia glared at the statue. “Kill the pathetic rivvil.” Montaron just casually waited. Talek placed both hands on his sword. Despite the nightly cold, he was sweating.

"It's just like the dreams." He spoke, seemingly to himself. His voice shook "I've been wanting to do this for so long... Yeah... I WANT it. But... I'm... I'm scared. I've got the feeling something bad will happen. That I want it too much." He clenched his teeth as the sword continued to shake in his grasp. "I've been scared for this... and I wanted this as long as I can remember. And I'm... tired of being afraid."

“Have to finish. Just a bit more time.” Prism softly hammered on the chisel, cutting away small sparks of stone from the elven nose.

There was a wet sound. The chisel moved a bit, the hammer came down wrong and the delicate nose broke off and fell to the ground. Prism looked in horror and pain. Talek’s sword had dug deep between his ribs.

The miserable figure sagged forward, holding himself up by the statue’s shoulders.

“Ellesime… for… forgive me…” With those words the man coughed blood, splattering the marred face with some droplets, and fell to the ground.

“It’s…. done.” Talek’s voice was unusually quiet. He looked down at the body, then brought his left hand to his forehead to hide his face. His shoulders started to shake.

Viconia sneered. Xzar looked worried. Montaron sheeted his sword. “Oh COME ON!” He exclaimed “It’s not that different from… huh?”

Talek slowly raised his voice and face, revealing that he wasn’t crying, but laughing. Not an insane or cruel laughter, but the laugh of someone who finally gets the joke people had been playing on him for a long while. After a few seconds he gave the corpse a tentative kick, as if to check it was well and truly dead.

“That’s IT? That’s all there is? This is murder? I cut, he falls?” More laughter sounded as he raised his sword and looked at his mirror image on the blade, blood covering part of his face on it. “This is what I was afraid of all my life? This is what I was hiding from?”

Montaron broke through the surprised silence. “What did ye expect? Thorm taking a few minutes to personally kick yer ass? Bhaal himself raising from the grave to give ye a thumbs up? It’s just a kill, nothing more.”

“I don’t know.” Talek said, still with a grin on his face. “Something, I guess. Guilt maybe. Or shame. Maybe regret of doing it. But nothing. Just the pleasure of a kill. It’s really THAT easy!” He accentuated the word by slashing his sword downward, sending more blood on the statue, then sighed contently. “The world just became a whole lot more fun.”

Xzar seemed hardly able to breath because of the giggling. Viconia looked slightly disturbed. Montaron raised an eyebrow. “Yeah well, make sure ye don’t have TOO much fun. I don’t fancy ending up at the end of a rope.”

Talek nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Let’s go then.” He turned away from the corpse.

“Aren’t ye forgetting something?” Montaron said. He pointed at the emeralds that were set in the statue’s face. “We didn’t come all the way here for ye to add a notch to yer hilt. And get the guy’s head too. The wizard will keep it on him. We’ll need it as proof of the deed.”

Talek slapped his forehead. “Whoops. Totally forgot all about that.” He turned around and slammed the pummel of his sword in the statue’s face a few times, until the jewels fell out. As Montaron gathered them, he calmly grabbed the corpse by the hair and with two swift strikes, separated the head from the body.

“Guess I should be thankful you’ve done the dirty work for me. Tell you what, you give the jewels and the head to me without fuss, and I’ll let you go without kicking your asses.” The voice came from somewhere above them. A middle aged man with steel armour and a helmet was mockingly looking down at them from a rocky outcrop, the crescent moon looming ominously behind him.

“Our kill, our loot.” Montaron said darkly, while quickly grabbing his crossbow.

“Do you really want to tense that string, shorty? Keep this up and I’ll be gathering loot from YOUR corpse.” The man kept his shield up and stared down threateningly at the halfling.

“Hey, we were first.” Talek said. “And I’d watch out with those words.” He grinned. “I don’t make allowances for an old man.”

“I’ve been gathering heads since before you were wetting diapers instead of breeches, boy!” The man spoke in contempt.

“Hm… A rivvil past his prime. In the Underdark you’d have long since been made a docile servant to breed instead of slowing down the younger fighters.” Viconia remarked.

The man didn’t even look at Viconia. “Your pet drow is a bit unruly. I advice to invest in a leash, or someone might cut off her tongue. And that’d be a shame. Getting them on their knees to service you isn’t nearly as much fun then.”

Viconia cursed harshly in drow. Talek snarled. “Why you… Wait… Are you Greywolf?”

The man barked some laughter. “That’s me. Ready to give up the loot then?”

“The same one that threatened Imoen back in Naskhel this morning?” Talek continued darkly.

“That little brat? I’d have loved to do more then threatening her. Little girls should stay with their mommies, or bad things happen to them.” There was a whistling sound. Greywolf reflexively raised his shield and a bolt was stuck in it.

“Enough with the yapping. Let’s kill the bastard already.” Montaron dropped his crossbow and reached for his shortsword. “But be careful. Ye don’t get old in this biz without some...”

The man jumped down and almost landed on Montaron. The halfling only narrowly escaped getting his skull split.

“….skills.”

Talek gave a battle cry and charged the man, followed by Viconia who grabbed her shield. Talek quickly got the greatest deal of attention, fervently trying to get past the older man’s defences and armour and failing. The man expertly blocked both his and Viconia’s attacks and launched some counterattacks the two could only narrowly avoid, all the while keeping an eye on Montaron, who was looking for a chance to backstab the fighter. The man’s sword seemed to move faster than even a young man would be able to manage.

“Don’t worry! I’ll SAVE you.” Xzar yelled, and started chanting.

“Don’t think so, mage.” Greywolf slammed his shield hard into Viconia’s chest, dodged a strike from Talek, made two steps and sliced at the necromancer. Xzar let himself fall backwards. It saved his life as the sword merely drew a red, vertical line across his face, almost hitting his eye. The wound looked strangely blue around the cut, and it hardly bled. Xzar whined and grabbed his face as he fell to the ground.

Both Talek and Montaron saw their chance and tried to attack the enemy in the back, as Viconia still recovered from the bash. The experienced bounty hunter had clearly expected that though, as Talek’s sword met the man’s shield and the man’s sword sliced through his armour with a horrible sound, and Talek received an icy slice in his side. Talek groaned as the skin ripped and the flesh froze, and his face contoured in pain as he stepped on the ground. Montaron's eyes widened in surprise as the man's steel plated boot connected with his nose. With the wet crunch of a nose being broken, he was thrown back and down, groaning and holding his face.

Talek quickly pulled back, covered by Viconia, and now fought defensively, his face pale as he struggled against the pain of the biting wound in his side. His wound slowed him down, and if it wasn’t for Viconia’s bashes against the man’s armour and shield, he would have been skewered. Because of her limited strength, she could hardly cause any damage though. Talek reached for a healing potion with his left hand. Keeping his eyes on the enemy and parrying blows, he broke the wax seal with his thumb. Greywolf was now aiming for the vial however, and Talek couldn’t bring it to his mouth. Blood was starting to drip on the ground and Talek’s speed was dropping further.

A lucky hit from Viconia on the man’s neck made Greywolf groan though. Keeping his sword in a deadlock with Talek, he turned around and slammed the shield in the drow’s face twice in quick succession. Talek didn’t hesitate and gulped down the life-saving blue liquid. As he felt the wound healing, he pressed the attack again, allowing Viconia some time to regain her bearings. The drow was still slowed down because of the attack though, Montaron was getting up slowly and Talek’s quick strikes accomplished nothing.

“Ahw… and I had hoped… to write his one in my book.” Xzar’s silky voice sounded pained. Forgotten by the others, he had taken out a parchment and started chanting.

“You should learn when to keep playing dead, mage!” Greywolf darted away from his opponents with surprising speed, rushing at Xzar, clearly intent on killing him now. Xzar didn’t stop chanting.

“Oh no you DON’T, shitstain!” Talek snarled and grabbed the man’s sword hand with his empty one. He left himself open, and received the corner from the shield in his forehead. Still he didn’t release the arm though, until Greywolf violently pulled it out of his grasp. Talek’s sword uselessly struck a glancing blow on the man’s armour.

“If you want to die first, have it YOUR way.” Greywolf raised his sword. Then Xzar’s chanting stopped.

“GREYWOLF, DON’T!” the necromancer’s voice sounded. Greywolf froze.

“I think this was all just a biiiiig misunderstanding.” Xzar cooed. “We’re all friends, right? Why don’t you let Talek go? You don’t want to hurt him. And Talek doesn’t want to hurt you” Xzar made desperate signs to Talek to stay calm, and thanks to a quick action from Viconia and a warning from a groggy Montaron, Talek contented himself with staring in confusion at the exchange.

Greywolf’s eyes were slightly unfocused. “I guess not.” He lowered his sword. “So... what do we do now?”

“That’s a pretty sword you have.” The necromancer drawled. “Talek there is also a big fan of swords. Could he hold it for a while?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “I don’t see why not.” He handed his sword to the flabbergasted Talek, who dropped his own in favour of the enchanted blade.

Xzar grinned. “Right. Now you can show him what you wanted to show him Talek. Quickly, this spell doesn’t last long.”

Just then, Greywolf blinked and shook his head. Talek quickly raised the man’s own sword to his throat.

“Say goodnight, Greywolf.” Xzar giggled.

The man scowled at Talek. “What are you waiting for? Ain’t got the guts?”

Without a further word, Talek pushed the sword into his throat. There was some vapour as hot blood touched icy steel. Greywolf gurgled a stream of blood, fell to his knees and then on his face, with a small puddle forming under him.

Talek grinned. “Should have told me you were in a hurry.”