Myam 12 Year 888 (New Imperial Calendar) Part 2

I dragged Corune back into the wheelbarrow – even through her clothing her skin felt ice cold.  If I didn’t see her breathing I would have sworn she was dead already.  Before setting off I poked around in the pockets of the three dead geezers to see if they had anything edible but all I found was a flask of grain alcohol.  Normally I would turn my nose up at that but I’m starting to get pretty sick of rice wine, besides its grain right, so drinking it is as good as eating bread.   Right?  I threw back a goodly amount of the flask and started dragging Corune’s worthless hide over the difficult terrain back to the road without the ancient barrow falling apart in the process.  By the time I managed to get to the road the sun was up and it had all the earmarks of being a scorching hot day – because why wouldn’t it be unseasonably warm right after a night that was the coldest in fifteen years? 

Not wanting to sweat through my good clothes (which weren’t in that great of shape at this point anyway but you know) I decided to change into my commoner clothing.  So of course halfway through the process I heard a voice.

“Now that’s a right pretty picture.”

I turned towards the voice and saw a smirking fellow with a mop of curly black hair that worked with some bushy sideburns to frame his eminently punchable face.  He was a good head shorter than me at least and was wearing respectable clothing aside from the fact that he had a row of knives on each leg and more in his belt and on top of that several pieces of jewelry and adornment that were also shaped like knives.  Add to this a blue sash and a red cape and you know what kind of fellow we’re dealing with.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

He smarmed smarmily “Don’t hurry on my account.”

“Hasn’t anyone else told you it’s not polite to sneak up on a lady?”

“Certainly, but it’s ever so much fun.”

“Fair enough, most of what we’re told in our lives is designed to keep us from having fun.  What’s the old saying?”

He chuckled “There is no pleasure in having nothing to do, the fun is having lots to do and not doing it.”

“No, I was actually thinking of another saying ‘ow, there’s a crossbow bolt in my chest’.”

He frowned “What?”

Having finished dressing I pulled out my crossbow and fired at him.  I give him this – he’s got some good reflexes, he dove out of the way and to the dirt as the bolt flew past.  That takes some real speed so duck out of the way after the shot, especially at that range.  The key to dodging is normally anticipating and moving before but this fellow was able to get out of the way even taken unawares.  He flipped the cape away from his face, which had flown over his head during the dive, and looked up at me incredulously.

“Are you insane?!”

“I don’t think so, but I was told specifically just a few hours ago that I am, so the jury’s still out I guess.”

I was reloading as I talked and fired again at his prone form, he tried to roll out of the way but I still managed to hit him in the leg – causing him to yelp like a frightened nanny goat.  The pain was nothing compared to the outrage in his voice though as she grabbed at his pant leg.

“How could you, this is Satander Silk!”

“No it isn’t, it’s fake.”

“But it’s a good fake!”

He yelped as I fired again, managing to knock the bolt mostly aside with his cape in what I have to admit was a pretty fancy maneuver.  He scrambled for the wheelbarrowing, putting it between us and hunkering down out of sight – well sort of out of sight, I simply went to one knee and shot under the barrow.  The bolt deflected off the wheel and instead of hitting him in the side came in at a weird angle right through the top of his foot.  He moaned like a woman at her husband’s hanging.

“That was esparga leather!”

“That’s made up.”

“It is not!”

“Trust me, I know all about fashion and I’ve never heard of it.”

He started to retort but I had reached into my secret pocket and produced a silk rope with a grappling hook and swung it around the barrow, hooking him on the leg and giving it a yank – sending him stumbling to the ground. I put my crossbow away and came around the barrow as he was struggling to disengage himself from the rope and get up at the same time and not doing the a great job of either.  I turned my Walking Stick head into a snake and let it strike him on the arm.  He hopped backwards, turned a fall into a roll and came up with a short blade in hand – not a knife amusingly.

“What is wrong with you?!  I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Oh, you know how us women folk are illogical and flighty and unpredictable and emotional – who knows why we do anything?  You know what I’ve noticed, men have a special power where they can act like a total dick, and then when the woman gets upset they’re able to turn it around and make it seem like she’s the one behaving badly for reacting to what he did.  It’s pretty impressive I have to say.  I know a few tricks myself but that is one that is really something.  Is that something that you’re born with or do your fathers teach you when you’re old enough to shave?”

He warily made a move to half-way put his blade away “Are you going to shoot at me more?”

I tapped my Walking Stick to de-snakify it “No, I already hit you a couple times, and the snake got you so you’re already plenty poisoned, I don’t see the point in shooting you anymore.”

“Poison!”

“Yeah.  What are you doing out here anyway?  Just wandering around looking for women getting dressed?  You’ve got about a minute to live if you want to tell me your story.”

“Do you have the antidote?!

“Sure.” He came forward desperately and I whipped out my dagger “Back off chief.”

He licked his lips like he was trying to decide his chances of overpowering me “How much for the antidote?”

“Hmm, let’s see, how about everything you have.”

His eyes bugged out “Everything?!”

I nodded “Yeah, that seems fair.  I mean you’re going to be dead in a few seconds otherwise right?  So then I get all your stuff anyway.  You seem to be balking through, which I find confusing.  Is your life worth less than the stuff you have on you right now?  That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me because if you die you won’t have it anymore anyway.  Although I guess some Odobenine worshipers believe . . .”

“Fine!”

“Fine what?”

“Fine I’ll give you all my stuff for the antidote.”

“Will you?  I don’t see you doing it.”

As he started dumping out all this possessions on the road before me I saw that he was starting to struggle.  The arm where he had been bitten was clearly in a lot of pain and he was sweating buckets in very short order.  His face, especially the lips, took on a very slack loose look.  As he tossed out more and more things he got that look like someone who’s trying not to vomit.  I’ve been poisoned a few times but I never felt like I was going to throw up.  Then again I’ve only been bitten by snakes three times so what to do know?

“You doing okay over there?”

His voice was shaky “I’m having trouble seeing . . .”

“Yeah, that will happen.”

He started swaying like he might keel over “The p-pain . . .”

“You better hurry up if you want that antivenom.”

“Th-th-that’s all . . .”

“I don’t see how, you’ve still got your clothing.  I believe we agreed on everything.”

“B-b-but . . .”

“Everything.  That’s another strange thing I’ve noticed, people have a very different definitions when it comes to absolutes.  When I say everything I mean everything, I don’t know what you mean.  Get those clothes off.”

I gathered up his possessions, making them my possessions, as he struggled and fumbled to take his clothing off with one hand, the other arm hanging uselessly at his side.  Eventually he collapsed face first into the dirt half nude in a most undignified position.  I crouched down next to him as he labored to breath.

“Well my friend you didn’t quite make it, but I have good news – I fibbed a little bit just then, there is no antidote – so you didn’t fail.  You can take some comfort in that, this was going to be the end either way so you don’t need to be sad, you never had a chance.  That probably means something in the afterlife, let me know if you get a chance.”

His eyes rolled back in his head and he started spasming sharply “Wh-wh-why?”

I stood up and dusted off my hands “Oh, just having a bit of fun you know.”

I’m not sure if he was dead or just unconscious when I stripped his clothes off.  With that done I grabbed the wheelbarrow and started heading down the road to Beresford.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Funds: 53,775 gold

XP: 631,901

Inventory:  Courtier’s Outfit, Noble’s outfit (5), Artisan’s outfit, collegium ring, Deadly Kiss (dagger) Belt of Incredible Dexterity +2, Endless Efficient Quiver, Handy Haversack, +4 Armored Coat, Sergeyevna Kostornaia’s Light Crossbow, Flask of Endless Sake, Hat of Effortless Style, masterwork disguise kit, covenant ring,  Ring of Disguise, Ring of Jumping, Walking Stick (Rod of the Viper), map, Badge of Last Resort, Healer’s Satchel, 28 tiny diamonds,  Headband of Alluring Charisma +2, Ring of Protection +2, Saryah Phidaner gown, Crown of Conquest, signet ring, Stone of Good Luck, Onyx (55), Tankard of the Drunken Hero,  Altar of Adariel,  Cauldron of Brewing, Censer of Dreams, Bowl of Conjuring Water Elementals, Companion Mirror,  darkwood lute, +3 buckler, celestial shirt, +1 Frost Demonbane Shortsword, potions of cure moderate wounds (5), potion of invisibility, +2 mithral chain shirt, masterwork buckler, +2 falcata, ring of protection +2, 120 gp, ring of sustenance , bottle of elfen absinthe, assorted jewelry, male noble’s outfit, signet ring, dust of tracelessness, scroll of knock; +1 hand crossbow, cloak of resistance +1, ring of protection +1, masterwork thieves’ tools

Revenge List: Duke Eaglevane, Piltis Swine, Rince Electrum, watchman Gridley, White-Muzzle the worg, Percy Ringle the butler, Alice Kinsey , “Patch”, Heroes of the Lost Sword, Claire Conrad, Erist priest of Strider, Riselda owner of the Sage Mirror, Eedraxis,  Skin-Taker tribe, Kartak, Królewna & Bonifacja Trading Company, Hurmont Family, Androni Titus, Greasy dreadlocks woman, Lodestone Security, Kellgale Nickoslander, Beltian Kruin the Splithog Pauper, The King of Spiders, Auraluna Domiel, mother Hurk, Mazzmus Parmalee,  Helgan van Tankerstrum, Lightdancer, Bonder Greysmith, Pegwhistle Proudfoot, Lumbfoot Sheepskin, Lumber Consortium of Three Rivers, Hellerhad the Wizard, Forsaken Kin, Law Offices of Office of Glilcus and Stolo, Jey Rora, Colonel Tarl Ciarán, Mayor Baras Haldmeer, Rindol the Sage, Essa 

Myam 12 Year 888 (New Imperial Calendar) Part 1

After the sun went down the temperature dropped significantly more than usual for sunset.  It wasn’t freezing cold by any means but it was not comfortable by any stretch.  Despite the day of rest Corune didn’t seem to be getting any better, if anything she seemed weaker.  Having nothing to eat probably didn’t help.  I’m no healer but even setting that aside it seemed like there was something else going on – some kind of malaise seemed to have settled over her.  It was like all the vitality had been drained from her.  As the day wore on she seemed more and more listless to the point where she barely responded to my insults anymore.  Once night and the cold set in she started shivering so badly she couldn’t fall asleep.  So of course a few hours later it started drizzling.  Somehow that made things even more miserable that a true driving rain.    

Things were getting pretty grim around the old “campsite” so I thought about trying to get a fire going.  Sunrods normally don’t seem to produce any heat but they’re creating light with some kind of alchemical goo inside so I thought it was worth a try.  Since Corune hadn’t really moved I rolled her over and cut some strips off the back of the trademark blue greatcoat of her dumb order assuming correctly that it would be mostly dry.  I stuck that in my Haversack and gathered the driest wood I could find before dumping out the whole mess and breaking a sunrod over it.  Or trying to anyway, the thing was pretty damn hard to break.  I had to cut it halfway through with my dagger before I was able to finally snap it and pour out the stuff inside – which was mostly powder.  I was expecting liquid for some reason.  It created a few sparks and I saw a tiny flicker of flame, which was encouragement enough to take out the last sunrod and do the same thing.  This got a nice little fire burning and I dragged Corune next to it, covering her with a cloak from my secret pocket even though I knew it would only last a couple of hours.  Maybe that would be enough to get her warm.

About ten minutes later the alchemical goo fizzled and popped and the fire went out.  Out of all the things I’ve seen lately it was one of the more depressing sights to cross my eyes.  I tried to sleep but between the cold and the rain and Corune’s wordless moaning there was no chance.  I was starting to consider kicking her until she shut up when I noticed a tiny glimmer of light in the distance.  Rather than getting up immediately I stared at it spitefully for a long time, I couldn’t tell you why exactly.  You know that feeling when there’s something you should do that you know is going to make things better but for some reason you resent having to do it so you just sulk and get madder and madder?  Yeah.

When I finally did get up and haul myself towards the light the first thing I saw was a wheelbarrow that looked like it was hundreds of years old and all that was holding it together was hope and good intentions.  Even so it was piled high with ramshackle goods and items – junk really.  Amongst the treasures I saw half a broken bedframe, a dozen soiled wigs, pieces of rugs, part of a blanket, the basket of a catapult, some hunks of rotting cheese, a spinning wheel without wheel, loose nails, a cage missing two sides – that kind of stuff.  I would have said this was the cart of a rag and bone man but most of this stuff even a ragman would turn his nose up at.  Coming around the garbage-barrow I found a merrily burning campfire with three shifty older codgers sitting around it.  They were startled by my appearance due to their semi-inebriation and their advanced age although I couldn’t tell you in what proportion. 

They jumped up, well not jumped but creaked, and brandished a variety of “weapons” at me.  One had a chair leg sharpened to a point, another had a hayfork with only one tine left – so a spear maybe – and the third had a broken bottle with cloth wrapped around the neck to make a hilt.  Which means he carries it around like that, which means he’s insane.  I tried to reason with them, I really did, but they were cursing at me and shouting and yelling for me to lay down my weapons – I had no weapons at the time mind you.  I admit that in short order I lost my temper.  My grandmother always told me that if you lose your temper you’ve lost – that you have to stay in control if you want to survive, you can’t let your emotions overrule you reason.  Normally I’m great at that. 

I have every reason to be angry, but you have to hold back that anger.   Because there are consequences to expressing your anger, and because I have an image to maintain, and for a thousand other reasons.  Eventually though, there will be a last straw.  Actually no, I won’t like the straw and the donkey’s back metaphor because that implies that it’s an incremental process and it’s inevitable when neither of those are true.  When it happens it comes out of nowhere and it’s just one thing that makes it happen.  It’s not an accumulation of slights, it’s not that I’ve had all I can stand and I can’t stand no more – it’s like hitting your funny bone, it’s just the wrong touch at the right time in the right place. Do I regret killing those geezers?  Yes, I do.  But honestly, not very much.  Not because it wasn’t wrong, but because it didn’t really matter.

After they were dead I grabbed a stout burning branch out of their fire and carried it back towards Corune but halfway there the fire went out and I hurled the then smoldering stick into the darkness and screamed for a little while.  I was still pretty angry.  Once I calmed down I went back to their camp and dumped all the crap out of their wheelbarrow and used that to convey Corune over the fire instead.  Have you ever tried to carry a person on a wheelbarrow in the dark over rough terrain?  It’s maddening.  It took me almost two hours to travel maybe three hundred yards.  My arms ached so badly I just left Corune in the wheelbarrow by the fire and tossed some of the rug scraps and paper-thin blankets from their pile on her.  I never did manage to fall asleep.  I was too jittery and worked up.

Sometime before dawn I decided to leave.  Why was I even there in the first place?  So of course as soon as I started to walk away Corune miraculously is finally able to stand up and asks me where I’m going.  I could have lied to her, I could have lied to her so easily, told her I was going for help, told her I was just going to take a piss, told her a hundred other things.  And she would have believed me because that’s what I do.  But I didn’t, I told her I was going back to Beresford.  She asked if I was going to leave her there and I told her that I was.  Her voice was frail and frightened.

“I’ll die if you leave me here.”

“Yeah.  Probably.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

She looked like she was holding back tears, not for herself – but for me!

“What happened to you?  What made you this way?”

“That would be very convenient wouldn’t it?  I had a hard childhood or I was mistreated in some way or somehow traumatized and that’s why I ‘act out’.  I find that offensive.  I do what I choose to do because I choose to do it.  I’m not a victim, I don’t replay old horrible shit that happened to me and act on it.  I move on, I get on with my life because I am a Gods damned adult.  One of the few I seem to come across.”

“I need your help.”

“So what?  Nobody ever helped me do a damn thing, I had to do it all myself.  Where would I be if I sat around waiting for someone to help me out?  I’d be dead is where I would be.  Waiting for someone else to save the day is a long wait for a horse that doesn’t show up.  You want to live you need to fight.  Get up and walk to town.  The real question isn’t why won’t I help you now, it’s why did I ever help you?  You were taking me to be tortured to death!  I should have shot you the first moment I saw you.”

“You don’t know what they were going to do.”

“What the FUCK do you think they were going to do?  Have me to dinner?  Serve tea and raspberry tarts?  If they weren’t going to kill me they were going to make me wish I was dead.”

“If you had killed me then you’d be dead too, I saved your life.”

“I would have been fine either way, I would have figured a way out.”

She laughed a laugh so bitter it was hard to even tell it was a laugh “Your ego is astounding.  Until just now I haven’t been able to figure out what’s wrong with you, I couldn’t tell if it was anger, fear, or hatred.  But it’s all three together – pride.  You become angry at anyone who attacks your self-image of perfection, you fear the judgement of others, and you cultivate hate of those who force you to see the unpleasant truths about yourself.  It’s not enough for you to deny the truth when I point it out, you have to silence the source of your frustration with your insults and slander.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!  You’re the narcissist for thinking that you know better!”

“Tell me this one thing, why do you want revenge on the Duke so badly?”

“He ruined my life.  He tried to kill me but he didn’t even have the balls to do it right, he just left me to die.  You talk about morality, I am morally bound to ruin the Duke for what he did to me.  You claim to love justice so much, what about my justice?  Why aren’t you on my side?  I’m left to administer justice myself because no one else is going to do it.  I’m the one who was wronged.”

“And that’s what it is, not that the Duke did something wrong, but that he had the audacity to damage the foundation of your fragile self-worth.  It’s not that he ruined your life it’s that he beat you – that’s all you care about.”

“You don’t know me, you don’t know anything.  And you have a very strange way of asking for help, if you want me to keep you alive another lecture doesn’t seem like a great way to go.”

“Without me you’re not going to get your possessions back.”

I smiled “And there it is.  You abandon the high ground pretty quickly when your ass is on the line.  Your God, your code, your precious laws it’s a bad joke.  So it’s not about right or wrong huh?  It’s a simple you scratch my back and I scratch yours?  Finally, now we’re getting somewhere.”

“I didn’t abandon anything, I just know who I’m talking to – you’re empty Ela, appeals to a higher purpose are pointless.”

“And yet you keep making them.  What’s that say about you I wonder?  You already told me where my stuff is, I’m sure I can get it back without you.  So that argument doesn’t hold a lot of water.  What else you got?  What else will you bargain with?  What can you offer me to make me save your life?  Money?  Jewels?  Eternal life in Vultur’s heavenly kingdom?  What have you got for me sister?  I’m entertaining all offers.  How badly do you want to live?”

“Not badly enough to listen to you for another second.”

With that she shuffled back and lay down by the fire. 

Funds: 53,775 gold

XP: 628,701

Inventory:  Courtier’s Outfit, Noble’s outfit (5), Artisan’s outfit, collegium ring, Deadly Kiss (dagger) Belt of Incredible Dexterity +2, Endless Efficient Quiver, Handy Haversack, +4 Armored Coat, Sergeyevna Kostornaia’s Light Crossbow, Flask of Endless Sake, Hat of Effortless Style, masterwork disguise kit, covenant ring,  Ring of Disguise, Ring of Jumping, Walking Stick (Rod of the Viper), map, Badge of Last Resort, Healer’s Satchel, 28 tiny diamonds,  Headband of Alluring Charisma +2, Ring of Protection +2, Saryah Phidaner gown, Crown of Conquest, signet ring, Stone of Good Luck, Onyx (55), Tankard of the Drunken Hero,  Altar of Adariel,  Cauldron of Brewing, Censer of Dreams, Bowl of Conjuring Water Elementals, Companion Mirror,  darkwood lute, +3 buckler, celestial shirt, +1 Frost Demonbane Shortsword

Revenge List: Duke Eaglevane, Piltis Swine, Rince Electrum, watchman Gridley, White-Muzzle the worg, Percy Ringle the butler, Alice Kinsey , “Patch”, Heroes of the Lost Sword, Claire Conrad, Erist priest of Strider, Riselda owner of the Sage Mirror, Eedraxis,  Skin-Taker tribe, Kartak, Królewna & Bonifacja Trading Company, Hurmont Family, Androni Titus, Greasy dreadlocks woman, Lodestone Security, Kellgale Nickoslander, Beltian Kruin the Splithog Pauper, The King of Spiders, Auraluna Domiel, mother Hurk, Mazzmus Parmalee,  Helgan van Tankerstrum, Lightdancer, Bonder Greysmith, Pegwhistle Proudfoot, Lumbfoot Sheepskin, Lumber Consortium of Three Rivers, Hellerhad the Wizard, Forsaken Kin, Law Offices of Office of Glilcus and Stolo, Jey Rora, Colonel Tarl Ciarán, Mayor Baras Haldmeer, Rindol the Sage, Essa