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Unwilling to Acquiesce – Part 31


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#1 Guest_No One of Consequence_*

Posted 24 June 2003 - 06:32 AM

The smoke from the fire reaches its ethereal fingers through the pre dawn shadows between the trees. Garren Windspear and Jaheira tread carefully over the leaf strewn ground to the site of the fire, uncertain of what they will find. When they enter the small clearing, a scene of terrible carnage confronts them. The night’s pyre has burnt to mere ashes, still slightly smouldering on the ground. Scattered around the clearing are bodies; corpses, cloven and torn. Some are plainly men, their pale skin drenched in ruddy gore in the clear morning light. Others are monstrous, equal parts man and wolf, their think fur matted with blood from brutal greatsword wounds. One, perhaps the most terrible of all, is like a mix of both other kinds. The left side of his face is human flesh, but on the right side his mouth swells to a grotesque size, twisted by an upper and lower pair of canines. His beard is grown across his cheek and was spreading up his forehead when he was slain. He was killed in the transformation from man to man-wolf.

Near the fire lies Adamant, his unshirted body lying face down on the muddy earth. Across his back can be seen sets of claw marks, mostly shallow, but terrible nonetheless. With a breathless curse, Jaheira rushes to the paladin’s side, kneeling next to him. With Garren’s help she lifts his body and is overwhelmingly relieved to find that he is still breathing. As they manoeuvre his body into a sitting position they can see that his chest and arms are even worse than his backs; the claw wounds are deeper and more numerous. His left eye is closed by the stroke of three claws that cut their way down his face, the blood runs down his chin and neck, looking like a piece of gruesome jewellery. There is a gurgling sound from Adamant’s chest that suggests bleeding in the lungs. The two rescuers marvel that he is even still alive.

It takes all of Jaheira’s patience to begin the slow process of healing Adamant’s broken body. What she longs to do more than she would ever care to admit is cradle him in her arms like a mother with a child, and weep for his pain. For the second time in only a few days, she has almost lost this strange man with an accursed heritage, and she knows now that it would be a burden she could not bear. With as much calm as she can muster the druid sets about healing Adamant’s wounds, bringing all of her considerable skills to bear. Her mystical senses tell her of the worst wounds; these she sees to first. She is relieved to discover that the strike to his face did not tear out his eye, for it would be beyond even her skill to regenerate it.

Garren does not speak as Jaheira does her spiritual work, though he smiles and sighs breathlessly when Adamant opens his eyes and regains consciousness. With a cough, he spits blood from his lungs, the remains of another wound Jaheira has healed. Groggy yet with pain, he does not resist as she grips his face between her hands. Holding his face, locking her eyes with his, she chastises him; “You almost died!”

Adamant does not answer, but blinks thoughtfully.

“Do not think I will let you continue with this appalling habit,” Jaheira continues. “I will not lose you as I did…as I did Khalid! Do you understand?” Tears flow down her face, only the second time Adamant has ever seen her cry.

“Jaheira I…”

“What?” she asks, uncertain what he will say next but eager to hear him speak any words.

“I almost…almost…fell!” Adamant’s words cause him a pain almost physical in its intensity. “I would have preferred death.”

“I don’t understand,” the druid protests. Garren places a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

“He speaks of being a paladin,” the dispossessed nobleman of Windspear explains. “Of falling from the righteous path.” With these words Adamant turns his head from Jaheira’s grip, his eyes downcast with shame. Jaheira shakes her head in confusion and grabs at him, trying to turn him back to face her. He shrugs her grip and so she scrabbles forward on her knees to be right in front of him.

“I don’t care about any of that,” she declares, the tears welling again in her eyes. “You are what I want. You know those oaths and duties mean nothing to me.”

“But they mean everything to me,” Adamant counters. “I have defined my life by this path and with it I have tamed the…thing within me. If I fell all would be lost. Yesterday we were deceived, and we slew those knights. A terrible crime for any conscience. But last night I embraced this slaughter and fought as no honourable man could.”

Garren casts his eyes about the scene. “These creatures are known about here for their cruelty and evil,” he says. “Farmers speak of these monsters raiding their flocks and of much worse. What you did last night is no crime, truly.”

“There was no mercy in my heart,” says Adamant with dejection in his voice.

“Do you often feel mercy when you slay enemies?” asks Jaheira, some of the typical acid returning to her tongue. Adamant shakes his head.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says. “In battle the enemy may surrender and allow the rule of law to resolve the conflict, instead of the rule of steel. Last night it did not matter what these men did, I was determined to take their lives.”

“In nature the only rule is survival. All fight to the limit of their strength and slay when forced, as you doubtless were. That is the way of the wild!”

“It is not the paladin’s way,” says Adamant. Garren Windspear wanders about the clearing and then to the ashes of the pyre. With a rough hand he gathers several handfuls of the ash into a leather pouch. When it is full he pulls the leather ties tight and place the pouch in his belt.

“I will take this to the captains of the Order,” he says. “I will tell the truth of what happened here and speak for you. Hopefully I will persuade them of you innocence, at least in my eyes. Your own conscience I cannot help you with, except to say this; whatever your motives, last night you did a good thing and saved many lives by ending these creatures’ reign of terror. I hope that helps.” With a nod to Jaheira, Garren leaves the pair, heading west towards Athkatla.

“Come,” says Jaheira, placing her arm around Adamant’s shoulders. “Garren has asked us to watch over his child while he makes the journey to see this Order of his. Let us return to the cabin and I will introduce you.”

They stand and, recovering Adamant’s scattered equipment, they head to Garren’s cabin.




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