------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Velathrim pulled two coins from his purse, and placed the copper ingots in the hawker's hand. The exchange netted him a kebab of bison and potato, dripping in butter and rosemary. Satisfied and overwhelmed by the smells that wafted through the city, he turned and rejoined the festival just as a troupe of jugglers passed by. He saw a girl with bright golden hair bounce into one of them, and tossing a curse her way the juggler continued his dance unfazed by the distraction. It was the first day of the festival, and hardly anyone wanted to wait for the next - a whole moon's worth of drudgery for three days of celebration seemed a worthy compromise, when each moon spent sixty days in its process of conversion. Uttering a short prayer under his breath, the paladin of Salaime broke his week long fast. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Narem quietly unslung the crossbow that rested on his back. Pulling back the string and notching a quarrel, he peered out of his vantage point on the top of 14 Melligan Way. He wasn't sure what was inside the building, but he knew these rooftops well and he knew this was the best place to view the square below. There was no assurance that his target would come this month, but he sat poised to strike nevertheless. Watching the comings and goings of the city below, he had grown accustomed to the flow of people. Like birds in a flock, or grass in the wind, there was a certain pattern to it that no man could ever proclaim to be master of. He was certainly ashamed of his inability to partake in the almost ritualistic ceremony of a festival, but what's one more to miss? He'd rather miss a chance at celebration than a chance at his foe. And should his foe chance across his sights, he'd never miss. Chuckling at his wordplay and lost in his mind's wanderings, he missed the stirrings of commotion below. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The singed whiskers that sprouted forth from Aldi Prelat's upper lip once more were lit alight, as her draggen familiar practiced her firethrowing aim. They grew fast enough that Aldi didn't mind, but it had the chance of lighting up the actual hair on her head, and she wasn't willing to sacrifice that. It simply took far too long to grow, and as a pyromancer she'd spent her fair share of time without a single hair on her body. More than fair, she mused, but I'm thankful the price of power has proven to be so minor. She quickly snuffed them out and shoo'd the miniature draconic beast on its way, and it lazily winged a circle around her head occasionally crowing for food or attention. Draggens are simply much more work than they're worth, she thought. Pulling an inch long cube of steak from the pouch she kept around her wrist and flicking into the air was enough to distract her closest friend for long enough to finish memorizing the spell she'd written earlier this morning. Pulling its wings into a dive, it moved with the grace of a beast much larger - and in fact, it was. Displaced neither in space nor time, but rather in ether, its presence intersected with Aldi's realm much the same way that a telescope brings distant objects to the fore. It could beat its wings for the rest of its considerable lifetime, but it would never reach her - aside from the minor form that sat before her now, gnawing on the hunk of animal flesh she'd graciously gifted it. "What do you say, little one?" she spoke with the kind tone of a loving mother. "Release me, that I may dissolve my constituent form and vanish from this world?" She shook her head, and the little one took another bite. "Feed me, that I may grow to consume the soul of your world?" She blinked slowly. "Thank me, so that I may continue to feed you, my dear." The dragon evidently refused, for it continued its feast. The pair were shook out of their reverie by the sound of a massive crash and tinkling of glass from outside that signaled trouble was afoot. "Again? And on the festival too. Stay here, Genvalzi, and maybe I'll conjure you a toy again." The draggen had no problem with her offer, and watched through one eye as she grabbed her wide-brimmed hat and spellbook and stomped off to investigate, utterly failing to recall the last traces of the magical incantation she'd spent the past few hours committing to memory. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Velathrim dropped his kebab in horror as the milky green hand of a moss troll reached forth from the stack of hay before him, and snatched the nearest living thing it could feed on. With a startled whinny, his closest friend and companion reared back, but shackled as it was to the hitching post that Velathrim himself had tied him to, the horse could do little but scream in horror as the bile colored fingernails dug into his neck. The troll rose to full height now, dried grasses tumbling all around and whirling in the wind as the paladin reached for his sword. No time was there for prayer, no time for strategy, his horse was in danger. But though he closed the distance between them with remarkable speed, his efforts would prove futile as the troll crushed the frightened animal's head between its fingers. Gore dripped from them, and it began shoving any piece of the quivering corpse it could reach down its gullet. Unhinging its jaw and breaking bones with a gesture, Velathrim could do little but scream a battle cry and leap into the fray. Already there were guards upon it, already they were hurriedly ushering civilians away, and already were the screams of men, women, children, and beasts of burden echoing through the once merry streets. With a whirl, the monstrous troll thwacked a guard across the street with a horse's hind leg, and the tremor this made in the battle lines gave it time enough to barrel off with surprising speed. His ears were pounding, and tears filled his eyes. But his blade was his sanctum, and his heart was true. Velathrim tracked the beast's path of destruction through the city, and with every corner he rounded it seemed to get further away. Rage blinded him, shock numbed him, and the cunning of the monster bested him as a chunk of stone flew toward him. Crashing into him as he turned a corner, he felt his scale breastplate absorb most of the shock. Even still, it'd need to be repaired after he exacted his vengeance, for the stone let loose several of the metal plates. Releasing a scream of despair, he continued his pursuit, but with a shudder and a groan, his hunger caught up with him. He hadn't eaten for a week. How had he forgotten? His footsteps slowed, and he took a breath. So, he was unable to defeat it with martial prowess. Still, the beast may be slain by his blade, and he'd lost too much to let it escape. Stop, breathe, listen. He could hear the rampage of the troll a few blocks over, and it seemed to have slowed down. Setting into a quick jog, the holy warrior glanced down the alleys and side-roads as he passed, searching for a place to lay an ambush. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Narem prided himself on his surefooted nature, and today it proved to be a great asset as he danced across the tiled roofs of the city he knew so well. The future paths he could take stretched out before him like lines on a map - nodes of opportunity connected by the vaguest of tethers. First a foot goes here, then shift your weight just so, and leap across the gap. It came naturally to him, and in times of crisis even more so. Crossbow in hand and target in sight, he let loose a quarrel, but even as it sunk into the monster's back he knew it was pointless. Quivering, the pungent mass of moss and fungus seemed to push out the arrow like it was a toothpick spat out in derision by the crude and callous owner of some acrid mouth. Leaning back in shock as it whizzed past him, Narem had to regain his balance before once again peering over the edge. The eyes that peered back at him shook his heart to its foundation, as the beast spied its new target. Reaching up and grappling with the face of the shop Narem stood on, the troll clambered with a bounding pace that seemed unnatural. Using windows as footholds and tearing out chunks of wood and stone alike, it pursued its would-be aggressor as he involuntarily screamed and lept from the roof. The building's foundation shook and trembled from the strain of its ascent. Roaring in frustration as its prey escaped, the manifestation of a forest's rot bounded up and over the edge of the rooftop as if it was any other tree or boulder in its path - A strange tree perhaps, that four apes lived within. It took two thunderous steps before the roof caved in. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dazed from the fall, Narem sat up amidst the remains of the basket that had broken his fall. Luck favored him it seems, for it was once full of cotton yet now it lay scattered across the floor of the alley behind the shop where the troll thrashing. Luckily, on the 2nd floor. Less fortunate were the screams coming from within, screams that Narem had to shake his head to fully comprehend. Leaping up and searching for his crossbow, he found it in the arms of a warrior clad in armor with a broadsword at his side. He offered the archer his implement, and Narem took it without a word. The tufts of cotton on the floor around them danced in the wind that whistled down the alley, and as he turned to hunt the beast once more a mailed hand fell on his shoulder. "Nay, hold but for a minute." Velathrim placed his hand upon the quarrel perched in the crossbow's stock, and began channeling the spiritual power of his god. Salaime, favor me now, and bless this warrior who seeks to further my wrath. I beg of you, show your favor. Favor me now. He chanted in his head for a few precious seconds more, and power began to whisper through his fingertips. Golden light began to flicker into place, and the arrowhead shone with a triangular blade affixed just in front of the mundane iron tip. Sharper than any mortal blade and honed to a point so fine as to be imperceptably thin when viewed in perpendicular, they none-the-less should strike first. Velathrim only hoped they'd pierce further into the heart of the beast than his blade could reach. Glancing down, he saw a boxy leather satchel with feathered hafts poking out - with a wave of his hand, the same enchantment was easily applied to the appropriately similar darts, and the rest began exhuding the same characteristic glow of a paladin's blessing. Creeping into the building, the screams from above had gone eerily silent. Should they have rushed in, its clear they wouldn't have been able to help whoever met their end above, but still a pang of guilt touched the paladin's heart. A warrior who protects the weak, devoted to the salvation of the downtrodden, and sworn in service of the spirit of the moon - a spirit who's followers bear no less than love for the meek. Yet he couldn't save them, and evidently the monster was finishing its meal. Climbing the creaking wooden steps that announced their arrival, the sounds of a feast of flesh being swallowed whole reached their ears. Nalem noted as they entered the goods sold at the shop - pillows, of all things. What are the odds that he'd fall from the roof of a pillow shop? The beast came into view as they alighted on the landing of the second floor, and a creak of a floorboard brought its attention to them. Drenched in blood from head to toe, it rose to its full height and took a step toward them. The rays of light coming from the destroyed roof shone across its shoulders, and slick with blood though they were, the green shone through. A shade that neither warrior would ever trust again, so long as they lived. As they watched, the mossy hide seemed to absorb the essence of life so casually splattered across its skin, and before its first step had been taken it was entirely consumed. With a single step, the floor gave way once again, and the beast fell to the ground floor. Roaring in pain, it tore off its left arm as it failed to extricate itself from the wooden beam that had impaled it in its fall. Letting loose an enchanted arrow, Nalem hurriedly drew back the drawstring and notched another as Velathrim leapt from the banister, swordpoint aimed down and the full weight of his body behind its impact. Neither proved to be a killing blow, but as the dual blades pierced its hide the troll bellowed in agony. Reaching up with its surviving arm, it grabbed Velathrim and threw him out the front window of the shop - glass exploded around him, and he tumbled and rolled into the street beyond. Head spinning and his focus fading, the black corners of his vision seemed to press ever closer from the periphery. His leg felt numb, and looking down he barely suppressed a yelp of pain as he realized it was twisted in its socket and mounted nearly completely backwards in his hip. Grasping his thigh firmly, he once more recalled the latent power within himself, and feeling the soothing rays of cold moonlight in his grasp, he quickly twisted his leg back into place. As they receded, however, the light of his god left a void where now only pain resided, and as his eyes rolled back he swore he saw a mouse. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slap. Slap. Slap. Shaken awake by a new flash of pain, Velathrim's eyes fluttered open as Aldi shook him. She screamed something incomprehensible, and slammed him back down before disappearing from view. What... Who was that? The events of the previous hour rushed back to him, and he rolled to his side and threw up the few bites of his kebab he'd managed to enjoy. Along with a fair amount of blood. Struggling to stand, he felt his strength returning to him as if from some source far away, and silently thanked Samlaine for her favor. A god cannot intervene too often, to do so would be to frivolously waste the affection of their followers. But so too would it be foolish to allow their devoted pawns to perish needlessly. Glancing around, he appraised the situation. The empty streets of the city of Sorenthal stood in stark contrast to the bustling memories of just this morning. The guards of the city were nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected - they were little more than chaperones for the helpless citizens. The soldiers of the army might have shown up if they weren't off on campaign, and what few heroes that were in the area appeared to be currently doing battle with the stinking mass of putrid moss that ate his horse. Limping over to his longsword and bending awkwardly to retrieve it, he hardly felt up to a protracted battle, and so he set to a supporting role and began blessing his fellow adventurers. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A flash of light signalled an attack, whether it be from the still glowing radiant crossbow bolts cast from above or the coruscating embers of Aldi's flame whip as it snaked its way around the evil's limbs. Leaving a trail of charred blackness behind them on the once rapidly regenerating troll's skin, it lashed and whirled in a dazzling display of glittering sparks. "Use fire! Troll's can't regenerate their burnt parts!" she screamed again, as comprehension dawned on Velathrim's face at last. He shouted at Nalem to get his attention, and the two prepared in unison to engage with the wizard's advice in mind. Tearing the nearest lantern from its holder near the road, the oil that it held within proved a perfect accelerant for the flames of Aldi's whip. As the metal bounced and the glass shattered, the oil sprang to life and engulfed the monster in an immolation of flame. That... Worked surprisingly well. The monster screeched and ran, seeking any respite it could find from the deadly menace that crept across its skin, clawing and scraping the flaming oil onto the sidewalk. Distracted as it was, it didn't see Velathrim step within its reach. With a mighty swing, the monster's head was cleaved from its neck, and it bounced to a stop some 10 feet away. The two combatants wavered, and Velathrim fell, as exhaustion once again overtook him.