They were granted no trial before being thrown into a cell. All were stripped of their gear and Helbram of his armor before being bound by cuffs with spikes lining the insides of the restraints. They pricked and prodded at his wrists, pressing down with enough force to dig into them, but not pierce into flesh, barring him slamming his wrists against something. Holden wore a smirk as he placed them on Helbram, clamping them on with enough force that Helbram was more surprised he was not bleeding in the aftermath. Helbram did not give Marjorie’s companion the pleasure of his pain, or his anger, and simply regarded him with a blank expression, which turned the smirk into a snarl as he pushed Helbram into the cell and left in a huff.
“Oi, I hope you know what you’ve done.” Leaf said to the two guards that sat outside their cell. Rather than the vitriol that Helbram expected out of his usually irritable friend, there was a steadiness to his voice; a deep, calm tone that Helbram knew shrouded the cold, focused anger beneath. An anger that they all shared.
A guard turned back to say something, but upon looking at the party’s cold expressions he stopped.
“I would focus your defenses at the gate,” Helbram said, “unless you believe The Sword is under further threat from people behind bars.”
That was enough to incise the man to words, “What do you care of us?” he said with a sneer, “The Hawk told us what you were up to the night we all broke down, how you tried to steal away the Sword while we were all vulnerable. Good thing it decided to rej-”
Helbram interrupted the man with a laugh. A deep bellied, bellowing chortle that made the man, and his own friends, stagger back in surprise.
“What?!” The guard snarled, “You think this is funny?”
“How could I not?” Helbram said through a chuckle, “the absurdity of that tale so immense that I am afraid I cannot keep a straight face.”
“So you deny it?”
“What does it matter what I say?” Helbram said in a more even tone, “Your truth was decided the moment you put us in this cell,” he tilted his chin towards the door, “Go on, do what you feel is best. That has certainly guided you justly, has it not?” his face shifted back to its neutral expression as he spoke, and the man left with his companion in tow, expression more confused than angry, leaving them alone.
“Apologies,” Helbram said as he moved to the back of the cell, “It was either that or screaming at them like a madman,” he rested his back to the wall and slid down until he was sitting. Their cell was located in the basement of a building in Cliffside. No windows let them keep stock of what was going on in the outside world, and aside from the dim light provided by the Aether lamp that lay on a desk outside of the cell, they sat in relative darkness.
“I was about to do the same,” Leaf said, he winced as he moved his wrists “Bloody hell, what sick mind came up with these?”
“They are Sealing Cuffs,” Helbram explained, “the pressure you feel in your wrists will flare if you channel Ether or Aether. It is meant to disrupt your concentration to the point that you will be unable to use such boons.”
Elly nodded, “Though this is certainly a very rudimentary, and sadistic, design. The most uncomfortable pair that I have worn to be sure.”
The others looked at her with surprise.
Elly snorted, “My master had some… eccentric training methods.”
Helbram shook his head and chuckled, “That is for certain.”
Silence fell over them, their brief discussion a fleeting distraction from the situation that gradually started to settle over them.
“What are we going to do?” Jahora said in a weary voice.
Helbram sighed, echoing her sentiment, “I do not know. I expected some sort of backlash, but not this,” he tapped his head against the wall, “the more I think of it the more my head begins to ache, so I would rather not dwell on it, lest my mind start to darken even further.”
Jahora stood up and examined the outside of the cell through its bars, “I can see the keys across from us. They’re hanging right there.”
Elly walked next to her, “That is very poor security.”
Jahora took in a breath, holding her hands out towards the keys, but quickly dropped them as a flicker of green Aether surged through her hands and died out, “Shite! That bloody hurts.”
“I did warn you,” Helbram said. He walked up to the frustrated mage and knelt down, patting her on the shoulder gently to avoid aggravating the spikes around his wrists, “it is best to get some rest for the time being, clear our heads,” he clenched his jaw, “I know that I still need time to do so.”
Jahora looked up at him with worry, “Perhaps that would be best. Gods know that there is so much to consider if we even get out of this cell.”
Helbram nodded, “Indeed, who knows what Marjorie and her companions have planned.”
Footsteps drew his attention to the staircase at the far end of the jail, signaling the arrival of Geren as the half-orc spellcaster walked up to their cell.
“Well, what fortunate timing,” Helbram said, “One would think that you were as a Familiar, apparating at the mere mention of you.”
Geren said nothing and took a seat at the desk outside of the cell.
Leaf regarded the spellcaster with searching eyes, “Strange, I didn’t take you for one to gloat.”
“That is not why I’m here,” Geren said.
“Have you come to observe us then?” Elly said, “Look upon your captives like animals in an exhibit?”
He shook his head, “There was something that I was curious about,” he looked at Helbram directly, “Why do you not defend yourself?”
Helbram met his gaze, “Why do you wish to know?”
“Because it is highly unusual,” Geren explained, “No one could take such slandering of their reputation and not lash out against it, let alone lean into it. Not without a reason,” he leaned forward in his seat, “I would know what it is.”
Helbram snorted, “And what, if I tell you why will you release me? Clear my name?”
The spellcaster opened his mouth, then closed it. He got up from his seat and made for the stairs.
“I will tell you,” Helbram said, “but you must tell me something first.”
Geren stopped and looked back towards him, waiting for Helbram to continue.
“Sophia and Marcus, where are you keeping them?”
Geren said nothing.
“Dragging my reputation through the mud is one thing, but conviction? Well, I may not have known those two for that long, but I know they would not sit idly by and let such a thing occur. So that leaves two options. You either spirited them away for the time being…” his eyes narrowed and a cold expression returned to his face, “or you had them eliminated.”
Geren shook his head, “They are still alive.”
“And why should we believe you?” Leaf interjected, “You were happy to let the Troll try and kill Marcus earlier.”
The mage closed his eyes, “Things happened quickly, we di-”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Excuses,” Jahora snapped, the sharpness of her interjection surprising Helbram, “given your reputation, you should have been able to do something, would you have not?” she walked up to the cell and stared up at the larger mage, her voice cold, “Given all that has happened, do you believe our doubt is unjustified?”
Geren clenched his jaw, then sighed, “It is not.”
Jahora glared at him, but said nothing more as she walked back to her corner of the cell and sat down. There was a satisfaction to her expression that she and Leaf shared as they met each other’s eyes for a moment.
Helbram snorted, but regarded Geren with a more controlled expression, “So they are held somewhere? Where?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Geren said, “All I can say is that they are alive.”
Helbram pressed his lips thin, “I see…”
Geren crossed his hands, “Your reasons, then?”
The bound man leaned back and sighed, “I simply took the most expedient route to getting the townsfolk ready for what is to come.”
The mage narrowed his eyes, “Why? What do you get out of this?”
“A comfy cell and spit on my armor,” Helbram said in a dry tone, “if you are looking for some sort of ulterior motive I am afraid you will find none. I do not possess the morality of you or your leader.”
Geren growled, “You don’t know a thing about us.”
“Does that matter in this case?” Helbram asked, “regardless of your reasons, your actions are your own. You actively disrupted our plans to save the Troll, you stood by and let that Troll try and kill Marcus, you pinned the blame on me, and you put us here,” Helbram’s voice gradually lowered the more he spoke.
He waited for a response, but did not get one.
“I understand that you have a reason to lust after the Sword so intensely, I am not one without his own desires,” Helbram said, “But, reason does not change what has happened. There was no moral struggle, no political machinations or ‘greater good’ that needed to be fulfilled. There was an innocent that was in trouble, and you let them die.”
Geren closed his eyes, and sighed.
“If you were hoping that I possessed some selfish reason for my actions to justify your own, you will find none here,” Helbram continued, “And even if I did, that still does not change what you have done. If you and your leader possess any sort of remorse, any sort of integrity, then you will present yourself to the Trolls for due judgment,” a small laugh parted from his lips, “though I know full well that will not happen.”
He looked at Geren, who could not meet his eyes, “So here we are, us locked in a cell while your merry group has charge. Not only that, but you have taken the Maiden away from her people, an action with an untold amount of consequences,” he closed his eyes and tapped his head against the wall behind him, “Many people will die, and while I accept that I have a part to play in this tragedy this all stems from one action. One that was performed by your hand.”
Silence followed, and for a good long while Geren did not speak. Eventually, he stood up from his chair and left the jail, unable to say a thing to Helbram and his group.
Helbram tapped the back of his head against the wall, trying to center his thoughts.
“So, if we choose to believe Geren’s words, and by some miracle we are able to get out of here, what is our plan?” Elly asked.
Leaf sighed, “Odds are we’re going to be stepping into a shitestorm, what plan would survive contact with that?”
Elly shrugged, “That is fair, but I choose to think of something rather than bask in the direness of our situation.”
Leaf shrugged “Good point,” out of habit he raised his hand to his chin, but winced from the spikes on his wrist, “Blasted cuffs. I'd like to give whoever made this my foot up their arse.”
Helbram snorted, “Agreed, though honestly it is a bit insulting to put these on me of all people. Though I suspect Holden chose to do so out of spite.”
“You did rather humiliate him before,” Jahora mused, “I would be more surprised if he didn’t hold a grudge.”
“True,” Helbram said, “But, formulating a plan does sound like a good distraction,” he closed his eyes, “I would say that our first step would be getting a better picture of the situation. It is bound to be a chaotic clash. Hordes of animals tend to not follow any sort of structure in their assaults, even under the influence of Trolls.”
Leaf nodded, “Aye, we’re dealing with quite the array of predators as well. I don’t think many townsfolk have faced down a bear, let alone a Scalehound.”
“Yes,” Elly said, “I’ve no doubt the adventurers may have a bit more expertise in such encounters, but the common folk will have many issues just with battle itself. We need to prioritize their safety.”
“And we need to find Sophia and Marcus,” Jahora chimed in, “Sophia will be able to help the injured with her magic.”
“Should the Sword deign to continue granting her power,” Helbram said, “For all we know it could be more likely that it chooses to strip Sophia of her power, force us into a more desperate position so someone draws it.”
Elly nodded, “That is very possible, but one would have to wonder why it is so desperate to be free? It does not age, so you not drawing it is more of an inconvenience. It could simply just wait to be drawn at a later date.”
Helbram tilted his head, “A valid question. The only reason I can think of is its own sentience. It has been sealed for so long that perhaps it is desperate to be free, though with enough restraint that it will not choose anyone. Not yet at least.”
“There is also the possibility that it spoke true when it last interacted with you,” Jahora suggested, “But again, that story strikes me as too convenient.”
“Precisely,” Helbram said, “which is why I am hesitant to go near it, but if things truly do get desperate…”
Elly pressed her lips thin, “The last measure.”
They all shared a nod at that.
“I do have a theory,” Helbram said, “About how the Sword chooses its wielder.”
Elly quirked up an eyebrow, “Do tell.”
He moved his hands back and forth, “It is possible that the Sword is looking for those with a large amount of desire to wield it.”
Leaf looked at him with a confused expression.
“Obviously, no one is without desire,” Helbram continued, “but there is a certain degree at which we all feel it. How we live our lives can affect the amount of desire that we feel at any one given moment. In Marcus’s case, his desire for the Sword has grown exponentially since childhood, especially after his father left his family. Marjorie might have similar motivations that have given her enough desire to catch the Sword’s attention,” he sighed, “And then there is myself, which you all are well acquainted with at the moment.”
“It is a plausible theory,” Elly suggested, “but I’m sure it takes into account one’s potential as well. If someone were to miss an arm, for example, I imagine the Sword would find them a less likely candidate.”
“But why would desire be a measure?” Jahora asked, “It is a bit arbitrary to just judge something based off of that.”
“Because desire is easily manipulated,” Helbram said, “When I held the Sword I was ready to take it, ready to do whatever it wanted in order to unlock the potential that it told me that I had. I would be its puppet, lusting after the power that it showed me.”
Elly nodded, “Yes. Understandable to an extent, and given its power it would waste no time bending those with great desire to its will.”
“Could it not be something more specific instead?” Jahora suggested, “Desire is a rather broad feeling. You could apply the same metrics to ambition instead, choose candidates that are much more specific to its needs.”
Helbram tilted his head, “That is also entirely possible, and ambition is something that is felt by all of the Sword’s chosen candidates…”
“Agreed,” Elly said, “Now how would we go about using that information against it?”
They were all silent for a moment, but none could think of any ideas.
Leaf groaned, “Gods, how do we get ourselves into these situations? Next you’re telling me we’re going to be crossing blades with a Demon Lord in a few months.”
“Careful,” Helbram said, “the moment that happens I am going to start hawking your skills as a prophet for easy coin.”
Leaf snorted, “I’ll give you a small cut as a pittance.”
Helbram gave a half bow from his seated position, “Truly you are the most generous sort.”
The group shared a small laugh, chasing away the growing tension for a brief moment as time continued to pass. The moment did not last long, and again they sat in silence, unable to bring up anything else to distract them.
“This is a really shite situation,” Leaf said.
“It is… it really is,” Helbram agreed.
Hours passed, or what Helbram assumed to be hours. Without being able to see outside, he could not tell what time it was, and his own thoughts could have turned what felt like minutes to hours, or the reverse. In the silence they all subconsciously agreed that it was best that they rest, and one by one his companions fell asleep, propped up in positions to alleviate the pressure their cuffs placed on their wrists. Eventually, slumber called for Helbram as well, and he did not know when finally closed his eyes. There was a brief window where he felt at peace, like all the troubles that they faced were nothing more than a distant memory.
Only for it to be shattered by a scream.