Dramatis Personae
- Cire Leachim, half-blood Pictish legerdemainist from the City-State of Khromarium
- Tori, mixed-heritage Shamaness from Gal City
- Kildun Graax, Hyperborean Necromancer from the City-State of Khromarium
- Tyrm, Oonish (androgynous clone) Warlock from the City-State of Khromarium
- Saya'da, Yakut Berserker from the Plains of Leng
Putting Eilleann to Rest
Midnight held the Trysting Glade in its icy grasp as the struggle for Eilleann's spirit continued.
The wraith had vanished beneath Cire's silver-tipped arrow, but none among the gathered adventurers believed the battle was over. Torches flickered in the darkness while Tori maintained her concentration, kneeling within the ritual circle. Her voice carried steadily through the cold night air, even as unseen dangers stalked the surrounding woods.
The wraith returned swiftly.
As Eilleann's furious shade manifested once more, the party reacted with disciplined resolve. Tyrm and the hired infantry maintained their defensive positions, ready to intercept any attack upon the shamaness. Cire loosed another silver arrow that struck true, while Vella's crossbow bolt followed close behind. Saya'da charged fearlessly into the apparition's path, though her axe failed to connect.
Kildun's sling bullet did not miss. The stone struck with remarkable force, causing the ghostly form to shudder and fade from sight once again.
Through it all, Tori continued her incantation.
"Spirits of root and stone, of wind that moves unseen,
Waters that remember all things, bear witness!"
Seconds later, Eilleann screamed from the darkness and hurled herself directly toward the ritual circle. The defenders had left an opening, and for an instant it seemed the wraith might reach her target. Yet fate intervened. The attack passed harmlessly by Tori, who remained unbroken in her concentration.
Arrows and bolts answered the ghost's assault. Vella's shot struck home. Saya'da's axe bit deep into the apparition. Tyrm followed with a powerful swing of his own battleaxe, and once more the wraith vanished from sight.
Still Tori continued. Raising Eilleann's ring together with a handful of earth from the glade, she called out:
"This ring is yours, Eilleann.
Let it bind what was broken and unbind what held you here.
I stand as one trained in the old ways, a walker between breath and silence.
He who spilled Eilleann's blood, hear this:
Whether in flesh or spirit, you are not beyond the reach of judgment!"
Silence for a moment, then Eilleann returned yet again. For a third time the wraith surged toward Tori, shrieking in rage and grief. Once more she slipped past the defenders. Once more she reached for the shamaness, and once more she failed.
The adventurers pressed their advantage. Cire, firing almost point-blank, struck the ghost twice in rapid succession. Saya'da landed another telling blow. Around them, the mercenaries struggled to contribute, lacking silvered weapons with which to harm the wraith.
Tori's voice rose above the clash.
"Eilleann, by my oath, and by the spirits that dwell in all things,
Your killer will answer for what he has done.
If by our hands, then by our hands,
If by the turning of Fate, then by Fate.
If by the gods who weigh the soul, then by their will,
But he will not escape."
The promise hung heavily in the night air. Then came the final confrontation. As Eilleann materialized once more, Saya'da stood ready. The berserker's axe descended in a devastating arc, striking with tremendous force.
The wraith screamed, then vanished. Silence followed -- no one moved, no one breathed.
Tori slowly rose, lifting her hand from the earth and extending it toward the sky.
"Eilleann, you are no longer bound here.
The roots release you, the waters carry you, the wind reveals the path before you.
Go where your spirit is called, go where pain cannot follow,
Go in peace, beneath sky and branch, beyond this place of sorrow.
The circle is opened, the path is yours to follow."
The ritual ended. The effort had exhausted her, and Tori collapsed. As her companions rushed forward, a final figure appeared within the torchlight: not a wraith, but a young woman. She was beautiful, peaceful, and free of the suffering that had twisted her ghostly form.
Eilleann smiled. "Thank you." Then she sank gently into the earth, and was gone. At last, her spirit had found rest.
Remarkably, none among the living had suffered so much as a wound. With the danger passed, the adventurers decided to remain in the glade until morning. They setup camp among the ancient trees. During the preparations, Kildun revealed a curious secret: hidden within his pack was a skeletal cat, which he simply referred to as "Cat." The discovery prompted equal measures of amusement and concern.
Watches were arranged, and eventually the company settled down beside the fading torches. But the peace did not last. Near the end of the first watch, a tiger emerged silently from the surrounding darkness. The beast struck before anyone could react: its victim was the legerdemainist, Cire.
Claws and fangs tore into its sleeping man target with horrifying speed. Before a single companion could intervene, the tiger had ripped out his throat. Cire died where he lay, slain in the blink of an eye.
The camp erupted into chaos: weapons were seized, warriors scrambled to their feet.
Vella's crossbow bolt struck the beast first. Kildun immediately sought safety in the branches of a nearby tree. Tannrhulia, Saya'da, Vall, and Raixonn rushed forward to engage the predator. Saya'da's axe found its mark, while Tyrm's Burning Hands unleashed a wave of magical fire that scorched the creature's hide.
Tori was about to call upon the plants themselves to Entangle the beast, but too many allies stood in harm's way.
Surrounded and wounded, the tiger's courage finally failed. The great cat began backing away, seeking escape rather than victory. A final crossbow bolt from Vella struck as it retreated. Kildun's sling stone missed. The others chose not to pursue.
The tiger vanished into the forest. But no one celebrated. The price of victory had already been paid.
The party broke camp immediately and began the long walk back to Bryn Celli, carrying Cire's body with them through the darkness. Along the way, Kildun observed that he might possess the means to return the fallen magician as an undead servant. Tori firmly rejected the suggestion, and the matter was dropped.
They left Eilleann resting peacefully within the glade, trusting that her parents would recover her remains and provide a proper burial. It was the small hours of the morning when the weary company returned to Bryn Celli.
Torla opened the doors of the Sheep's Rest Inn and became the first to learn of Cire's death. She shared whiskey with the adventurers, in his memory. Tyrm requested milk instead. After some searching, fresh milk was procured from a nearby cow. Tyrm drank it in a single swallow while the others raised their glasses of whiskey, and together they honored their fallen companion.
Cire's body was wrapped carefully in blankets and stored in the stable until proper funeral arrangements could be made.
Snow fell throughout the following morning. After a late breakfast, the adventurers sorted through their companion's belongings. His studded armor and beloved falcata were set aside as heirlooms to be returned to his family in Khromarium. A messenger was hired to carry both the items and a letter written by Tyrm.
The remainder of Cire's possessions were divided according to need. Some entered the party's shared stores, while Tyrm and Kildun claimed a few useful items. His spellbook attracted particular attention, especially the spell Colour Spray, which prompted discussion regarding who might learn its secrets.
Those affairs settled, the party visited Eilleann's parents. The grieving couple learned that their daughter's spirit had finally been laid to rest, and gladly paid the agreed reward. When Tyrm mentioned the tiger attack near the Trysting Glade, they promised to spread word throughout Bryn Celli so that other young couples would exercise caution.
Before long, another summons arrived: the adventurers were called to the hall of Blood-Reeve Maelcon. There, the ruler of Bryn Celli presented a new task. A ranger named Rhodric had gone missing, and Maelcon sought capable individuals to discover his fate. For their efforts, each member of the company would receive one hundred gold pieces.
The adventurers listened carefully as every rumor and scrap of information concerning Rhodric was laid before them.
In turn, they recounted the tale of Eilleann's haunting and the long night spent delivering her spirit from sorrow. One mystery had been solved, another now awaited them in the woods north of Bryn Celli.
No comments:
Post a Comment