Shrouded in darkness, the humanoid figure stares down at them. With a wave of his hand, the fires burst back to life. The light reveals the entity to be a tall, sickly thin man standing at the edge of the balcony. He is dressed in fine clothing. Chainmail peaks through his black tunic. Its steel rings glints in the firelight. Bandages cover every visible inch of the man. A blue half-dragon, clothed in dark robes, wraps a leather coat over him. The man scratches at his neck, soaking the tips of his bandaged fingers in fresh blood.
“You people are so damn loud, you went and woke the dead,” says the man in a slow groaning voice. He walks toward the stairs. His undead appearance made more so by his lurching stride. As he steps down one stair to the next, the man sways heavily from side to side. The half-dragon, following close behind, whispers, “please, my lord, there is no need for you to rise. I beg of you, Return to your rest. You are not completely healed.”
The small girl tears the blanket from the innkeeper and bolts to the stairs. Presenting it to the bandaged man, like a great trophy, she says, “Look, Theo, I found me memories.”
The man reaches for it, but the girl pulls it back. She gives him a sour expression and continues, “Now, I know what you’re thinkin’. I do. You’re thinkin’, ‘Wretch, what makes this any different than the teacup, or the ladle, or the mirror, or any of that other stuff’; but I’m tellin ya this is them. You trust me right?”
“Hand it over, Wretch,” the man orders. The girl bites her lower lip, on the verge of tears she asks, “You’re not goin’ make me give it up are ya? They’re my memories.”
“Creature, your lord has demanded something of you,” yells the half-dragon. She waves a blue cane with the head of a red-eyed dragon at the small girl, who hands over the blanket. The bandaged man takes it. He runs his free hand over it, “If you’re going to keep this, at least let it be clean.”
A strange gust of wind falls over the blanket. The stains vanish as the invisible force flows down the fabric. As clean as the day it was woven, he hands the blanket back to the girl and says, “I am told, I have you to thank for these bandages.”
“Oh, did Siv tell you that,” the girl says, giving the half-dragon a pouting look, “Well, the thing is, you were all dead, and your body was really burnt. Ya know, on account of that wizard settin’ you on fire. I tried to heal you, I really did, but I could bring all your skin back. So I got to thinkin’, if I covered you in bandages, maybe that would heal your skin. I guess it didn’t really help though.”
“I tried to stop her, my lord,” the half-dragon says, “I told her it would work, but you know how she is.”
“Yes, dead,” the man sighs. His eyes wander for a moment, “how damn inconvenient. I’ve lost my banquet. I’ll have to start all over again.”
“Well, you tried and I thank you for that, Wretch,” says the man looking back to the girl. He runs his hand through her hair, “these bandages are a symbol of your love.”
The girl blushes as he pets her head. Pulling his hand back, he stares at the fire-damaged skin beneath the bandages. Again scratching at his neck, he sighs, “A scar on my entire body, so irritating.”
“You should be grateful to have skin at all. Mother Raven could have brought you worse,” the elf woman says, “and it took you far to long. I was starting to think you failed tribute.”
“How long was I dead,” the man asks. To which, the elf replies, “a couple of months. We’ve been here for a few weeks.”
“And where is here,” the man asks. To which, the elf replies, “An inn on the east coast of West Isle. We’re about a day’s travel from the city of Cladideal.”
“West Isle, interesting,” the man murmurs, a hint of a smile beneath his bandages. He scans the room and asks, “where the fuck is everyone.”
“Sadly, this is all which remains,” the elf states, “he killed everyone else.”
“Damn, such a pity,” says the bandaged man. He walks toward the bar. The small girl follows him, clinging to his coat. The half-dragon follows as well, but she keeps a few steps behind. She says to him, “They died because they were weak, my lord. No reason to mourn their passing.”
“Don’t speak of your family like that and don't forget, I died too, Siv,” says the man. The half-dragon is taken aback by his comment. Before she can apologize, the innkeeper steps before them, “Now just you hold on! She said you were attacked by goblins, not some cursed dead man! And that girl, she went and stole from me, don’t think I’d forget that!”
“Will you shut up,” the bandaged man orders, “I’ve got a nasty headache.”
“And I’ll give you one worse; you don’t get the fuck out of my tavern,” the innkeeper says, swinging his club in front of the man’s face. He continues shouting, “Who the fuck do you think you are talkin’ to me like that! You and that bitch…”
The bandage man’s fist crashes against the innkeeper’s face. He falls to the ground, mud soaking his clothes. Blood runs down his nose as he looks up at the bandaged man. He reads death in the man’s glowing yellow eyes.
“Right, introductions then. I am Theodore Ravenclaw,” says the man, showing the signet ring on his right index finger. The ring depicts a raven with three vertical strikes through it. “The third born of Nicholas Ravenclaw, and Baron of Ravenclaw Abbey.”
Pointing over at the elf, he continues, “the elf is my mother in law, Tetarea Ravenclaw…”
“Galadon,” the elf woman corrects. To which, Theo says, “Right, Tetarea Galadon.”
“ She remarried after my father’s death,” he adds.
“My herald, Cawkii of Ravenclaw,” says Theo, pointing to the birdmann. Next, he points to the half-dragon behind him, “my court wizard, Siv of Ravenclaw.”
Finally, he puts his hand on the girl, “and the gnome is my little sister Wretch, who I love dearly.”
“Little,” scoffs Wretch, looking up at him, “I’m like a hundred years older than you.”
“You’re still shorter than me,” Theo states. To which, Wretch replies, “that’s not what that means.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Anyway,” sighs Theo, looking down at the innkeeper, “Now, you know who we are, good for you. So, I got a question, innkeeper. Were you about to club my precious sister over a whore’s cum stained blanket?”
A black broadsword forms in the bandaged man’s left hand. He continues, “Now I’m not one to judge, but dying over a blanket seems a piss poor way to go.”
“Me Lord, I swear I had no idea who she was,” cries the innkeeper, his eyes as wide as his mouth with fear, “I beg your forgiveness, I didn’t know.”
“No, you didn’t. that is apparent,” says Theo, scratching at his neck, “and why was this man not informed of our identities.”
“Because I thought it wise not to advertise our arrival,” says the elf, Tetarea, “with you and three-fourths of our company dead.”
“Fair enough,” says Theo. His sword vanishes, and he turns back to the innkeeper, “get up. I believe the dwarf was buying the room drinks. I’ll take a pint of your darkest beer.”
“Yes, me lord,” says the innkeeper, pulling himself off the floor. He rushes behind the counter. Theo walks over to the bar. He sits down on one of the tall stools. Bojack joins the bandaged man, “You said you were Ravenclaw. I’ve heard tales of your family. They say nasty things about Ravenclaw. From the looks of it, I’d say your reputation is well earned. So is it true, ye cursed?”
“That’s really a matter of perspective, dwarf,” Theo replies. His yellow eye fixate on the dwarf, “I’ve heard of you too, Bojack, The Emerald Champion. Tell me, are you as strong as they say or are you just another charlatan.”
“You should have come down sooner, would have seen a hell of a good fight,” Bojack boasts, “or perhaps you’d like to test Bojack for yourself.”
“Sure, I could use a good fight, wake up this body of mine,” says Theo. The innkeeper hands him his drink. Theo mutters a few words under his breath and frost forms over the mug of ale. Bojack brow lifts as he watches, “you’re a caster ain’t ya.”
“What could possibly give you that impression,” Theo jests. Bojack chuckles, “Well, that sword trick for starters; some kind of shadow magic I imagine. You also cleaned that blanket and just now chilled your drink. So what are you.”
“A witch, a warlock, or a mage, pick one and shut up,” Theo suggests, a smile through his bandages, but daggers in his eyes. Bojack smiles and asks, “Well, master warlock, what brings you here?”
“Ha, that’s a good question,” Theo snickers, “Tetarea, why exactly did I wake up in this inn?”
“There’s a town south of here, named Candleberry,” Tetarea answers, “They’ve had a run of bad luck, I fear. The dead have risen, and children have gone missing. Everyone has either died or moved away.”
“Why, that be where we’re head,” says Gravestone. To which, Brother Vincent adds, “Yes, the infestation of the undead must be dealt with. They are a mockery onto the natural cycle of life.”
“I see. The two of you best leave it to us,” says Theo, “no reason getting yourselves killed for nothing.”
“My lord, if I may be so bold,” says Cawkii, “It might be in our best interests to recruit the half-giant and priest.”
“Indeed, we are down eighteen men after all,” Tetarea agrees. To which, Brother Vincent says, “The lady is right, it would be quite wise to travel as a party if we are all headed in the same direction.”
“What are you hunting, Ravenclaw,” asks the dwarf. Theo takes a long gulp of his ale and says, “a wizard, who goes by the name Elrik Cain. We’ve been chasing him a good three years now. Everywhere it goes people die; entire towns wiped clean only undead left in his wake.”
“I see, a hero’s quest to stop a great evil,” says Bojack heroically. He chugs down his beer and yells to the innkeeper, “Another my good fellow.”
“Theodore Ravenclaw,” continues Bojack, turning to Theo, “It’s been a good hundred and fifty years since last I quested. It's just what I’m looking for. Yes, I will accompany you, and together we will bring an end to this great evil.”
“Fine, it’s not my place to tell a man where he can and cannot go,” says Theo. The black broadsword forms once more in his left hand. He points it at the dwarf, “however, if you're accompanying me, I would know the strength of your arm for myself. I don’t need to find you wanting whilst we hunt.”
“Fair enough,” agrees the dwarf, leaping from his stool. The priest interjects, “Good sirs, perhaps we could put this off till morning. That last fight has left me a bit drained. I don’t know if I can heal you both to full health, with what miracles I have left.”
“That’s fine, Wretch here is a priestess,” says Theo, patty the gnome, who has remained at his side.
“Well then, that’s settled,” Bojack laughs. The dwarf stands several feet from Theo, who remains near his beer. He roars, “Come and show me what you’ve got, Ravenclaw.”
Theo holds his sword vertically before him, with the blade facing either side. He prays to it, “Mother, dear Mother, thine One prays to thee, fill my veins with thine icy blood and wrap me in thy frozen hug. Let thou, who means me not but harm, know not but thy vengeful charm.”
Bojack watches in awe as a ghostly frost coats Theo’s body and clothing. He then points to the dwarf and says, “Thou I mark for mother’s feast.”
Bojack feels an icy vail fold over his soul and chill his body. He clenches his fists tight and mutters, “I see, no holding back with this one, not even a little.”
A fiendish frenzy falls over the dwarf once more. His veins bulge as his heart races. Foam fills his mouth as he roars. Skin turns red with ferocity. Bojack lunges forth. With a quick left jab, he strikes the bandaged man. As he does, the magic frost gathers at the impact, shielding Theo. Before the dwarf can pull back, the frost bleeds up his arm. Theo, holding his sword overhead and with both hands, prays, “Dear Mother, fill thy blade with thy holy light and strike down thy foe.”
The blade burst to life with yellow light. Theo plunges it down onto the dwarf. Bojack jumps back, but too late. The blade carves down his body, starting at his right shoulder and leaving just short of his left hip. It cuts the top of his great kilt loose, leaving the dwarf’s chest bere. The blazing blade seers the wound shut; only for it to rot and split back open. Black blood oozes from the gaping gash in the dwarf’s body. Coughing blood and bearly standing, Bojack yells, “No, no, I am Bojack, The Emerald Champion and this is not where I fall.”
Only just holding himself together, Bojack punches wildly at the bandaged man. Theo dodges the first, but the second catches him in the side. No longer protected by his frost, the claws dig into his meat. With a grunt, Theo falls back against the bar. Before Bojack can deliver a third, he swings his sword up, holding it only with his left hand. The blade slashes through the dwarf, crossing over the other cut. Again the wound turns necrotic and blood spills black. No fight left in him, Bojack collapses. The black sword vanishes from Theo’s hand, which he places over his open wound. Divine light emits from it, healing most of Bojack’s punch.
The lantern priest begins to pray, casting what miracles he has left on the dwarf. Theo searches the counter for his drink. To his dismay, the mug has rolled onto the floor. With a sigh, he scratches at his neck and begins walking back upstairs. The half-dragon and gnome follow close behind. He stops when Bojack yells,“Was it close?”
The words fall heavy, filling the air with grief. Theo looks back. Hands at his sides, Bojack kneels in the dirt. An X shaped scar is all that remains of Theo’s attacks. Again the dwarf yells, “the fight, damn it, was it at least close!”
“I don’t have a lot of magic,” Theo admits, “So I put it all in my first strike. Most things die; you didn’t. You should be proud of that. As for the rest, it could have gone either way, I suppose.”
“Yeah he’s pretty useless after that first round,” says Wretch. The half-dragon snarls, “How dare you speak of the Baron in such a way.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” states Theo.
“And ya weren’t holding back,” asks Bojack. Theo scratches at his neck, “no.”
He continues his assent. The priest comforts Bojack, with a hand upon his shoulder, “there is no shame in losing to a man like that, and the fight was close had; he said so himself.”
“Aye, perhaps, priest,” says Bojack, now getting to his feet. He looks up at Theo, half bathed in shadow as walks across the balcony. The dwarf adds, “but I got this feelin’ he was lying to me.”