Archives: Lost Humanity
Chapter 7: A ‘Lovers’’ Spat
Aroal, Sara, and Myel-Elina arrived at the inn after a quick walk from the Cha Za temple. Myel-Elina’s shoulder was completely healed, though her dress would probably require some stitching. Aroal pushed open the inn door and stepped into the common room. Al, Zylan, Elainne and Mieijha were all gathered around the table, and joined by a young man. Aroal walked over to join them, her eyes scanning the other patrons. There was a group of men at another table nearby, one of their number was a broad man with dark skin and black hair with his back to the table that reminded her of her ex-husband, but she doubted it was him.
“We’ve returned, and Myel is healed,” she announced to her companions as she pulled out a chair. “So, who’s this?” she asked, looking to Scythed.
Thrighan heard a familiar voice behind him, one he knew as belonging to the girl he married years ago. His head whipped around to see its source, but he didn’t see the under-developed sixteen year old who left him, but a tall, buxom blonde warrioress in tight leather and heavily tattooed. Across her eyes was a band of blue ink, which was what made her hard to identify, but he soon realized that it was Aroal.
He stood, kicking back his chair, and turned around. “You stupid little bitch!” he growled. He’d given up his search long ago, but he never expected he’d find her now.
Aroal’s head shot up and she saw that the dark mercenary was indeed her ex-husband. Her eyes widened from surprise, but soon, a grin turned up her lips.
“Well, if it isn’t my dear husband,” Aroal said, her hands dropped to her side, ready to draw her axes. “Come back for another round? Would you like me to crack your skull with your own axes, or would you prefer the manner of beating you’re most accustomed to?” The barbarian glanced to the innkeeper. “You wouldn’t happen to have a skillet I could borrow, would you?”
Sara’s eyes opened wide; she had never seen a lover’s spat of any kind. She watched with intent, but prepared herself to keep anyone who interfered at bay.
“It is a small world after all,” the defunct old nobleman said with his usual aged charm. Zylanthian snatched up his cane from his side and listened carefully to the voices. He kept track of where they were from their steps, hidden underneath layers of voices. With a relaxed, slow movement, he began to twist the cane in his hands. He could feel the vibration of the latch coming free on the handle. Hidden underneath the fine wood of his cane was a blade that ran the length of the wood that concealed it. While it was no broad sword, he felt more comfortable with something in his hands. While he couldn’t see, hoping for someone to run onto his blade was always better than running into his weak arms.
Al sprang to his feet and stood between the bickering couple. “Drop it,” he growled. “While I don’t mind staying out of domestic disputes, this is a place of business and a place of rest. So cool it, or I’ll draw this sword.” He threatened. He didn’t care if Thrighan thought of it as much of a threat, but his companions at least would know to back down before things got out of hand.
Myel-Elina looked at Aroal with little admiration. Another story to be written, or I’m wrong from the start How Aroal the bold get rid of her husband. Anyhow, I’d prefer it would not come to fight.
“Al is right,” Myel-Elina replied. “This is not a place for a combat, whatever you mean to do.” She turned to Aroal and spoke softly, so that Thrighan could not hear, “I don’t want to interfere with your business, and I’m on your side, but I think you have better things to do than just fight with him.”
Sara agreed with Al’s view, but was still interested in how lovers could have a spat. Most love that she had seen was long lived. Never mind this I have some friends in need of a good scratch, she thought. Sara then made her way over to Ludwig and Wolfgang, and sat on the floor beside them. Still watching to see what Aroal would do next, she began scratch the wolves in a playful manner.
Aroal couldn’t resist being cocky to Thrighan, but she had no intention to lash out at him. The moment he recognized her, it was inevitable that he would attack. Her hands were only ready to draw her weapons as a precaution.
Sure enough, the barbarian warrior had drawn his sword.
“Thrighan, don’t start this in here!” one of the mercenaries with him insisted, standing from his own seat.
Staring her ex-husband down, Aroal spoke just loud enough for her companions to hear, “It’s up to him where we fight, but there’s no avoiding it.”
Thrighan ignored the pleas of both groups and moved forward. “You got lucky that night!” he growled at Aroal.
“Well, darling husband, if you want to fight, we’re going to have to take it to the street,” Aroal replied.
Thrighan sneered, his sword held tensely at his side. “Don’t tell me where I’m going to beat you!” he growled.
Aroal wouldn’t be able to get him outside with words. She wanted to fight him and prove herself against him again, but she wasn’t about to risk Al drawing his sword. “Let me take care of him!” she shouted, then suddenly turned and ran out the inn door. Thrighan moved to follow, seething with anger.
“Aww, I wanted to fight him,” Scythed said, his face in an expression of mock pouting “Oh well, it’ll still be fun to watch.” He followed Aroal and Thrighan outside.
Thrighan burst out of the inn and onto the street where Aroal waited. The barbarian woman had both her axes drawn, though technically, they were his. She hoped Al wouldn’t be upset by the fight, but Thrighan was going to fight one way or another at this point. It was a matter of pride for him.
Thrighan recognized the weapons and drew his own sword in response. “I’ll be taking those back, wench!” he roared at Aroal.
“Just try it,” Aroal replied.
* * *
Myel-Elina followed Aroal and the two men in the street. She wondered who the second man could be. She had never seen him, but he seemed connected to Aroal’s husband and was talking with Al, Elainne, Mieijha and Zylanthian
Although Myel-Elina had never liked seeing people fighting, she felt like she had to watch this fight. Aroal was her comrade now and, even if Myel-Elina was not able to help Aroal during the fight, the bard could at least try to memorize it and write something about it. That’s why she had to watch it. The man seems more than eager to fight, and Aroal looks determined not to let him win, Myel-Elina thought. It will certainly be a rough fight here in the street. I hope there will be no problem for Aroal.
Sara walked over to Zylanthian. “It would seem we have a new friend among our fruitful party. Has he introduced himself?” Sara asked, full of curiosity. Sara kept a watchful eye over the crowd that was exiting the pub to watch a fight. She wanted to make sure her friends were safe, well, as safe as they could be. Aroal had her own agenda and Sara respected that.
“At least to one of us,” Zylanthian responded gracefully, with a polite nod in Mieijha’s general direction. The ravenous wolves looked up, licking their muzzles, but quickly dove back into their meal. It seemed to the old man that Scythed had considered his name a blessing to the elf, but had not formerly introduced himself to the others. Personally, Zylan had long since dispensed with formalities rather permanently, but, in a state of travel, he thought it best to regain the old airs of respectability. Really, he saw no reason for such formalities to even exist, but it was wiser to follow unnecessary yet positive things than fight them for no real reason.
As Scythed went outside, he noticed that the other mercenaries were coming to watch the fight as well. He went to stand by them, in case they decided to interfere with the fight, even though this made it look as if he was taking the same side as them.
The newcomer was standing with Aroal’s husband’s companions. Looking around, Myel-Elina realized that neither Al, Elainne, Mieijha, Zylan nor Sara was there. In case of general struggle, she would be alone with Aroal. As she knew very little of fighting, Aroal could as well stand alone. The bard was only hoping no one would interfere with the fight...
* * *
Thrighan looked back to see his comrades had come to see the fight. They wouldn’t interfere, in fact, most of them were looking forward to seeing Thrighan either prove his skill for all his bragging, or get his ass handed to him by a woman.
Aroal began to circle Thrighan, anticipating his first blow. The barbarian man turned to follow her movements, his eyes sharply observing her movements. It became apparent to him that she wasn’t going to strike first. He swung his massive sword above his head, first making a show of strength. Aroal’s expression didn’t change. He ran at her, his blade dropped down to the side for a slash. Aroal stood her ground, but crouched slightly, ready to spring when she saw just how he was attacking.
Thrighan slashed from the side, a blow that would hit her in her center of gravity. As the swing came around, Aroal fell backwards, bending at the knee, since she couldn’t get the distance she would need to jump back. She caught herself with her hands, and as he finished his swing, she pushed herself back up, making it into a crouch.
As soon as she was up again, he could swing back, she stayed low and rolled to the side, just as he began to swing down to where she had crouched. His blade slammed loudly into the cobblestone, sending sparks and chips of stone flying. Aroal was at his side though. She was on her feet quickly and spinning before he could bring his blade completely up. She only intended to hit with one blade, and she did. The axe in her right hand caught him at the waist, between his armor, and she was ready to block with the left. It was superficial to someone like him, but the first successful blow of the fight.
“Are you certain you want to fight with such a slow blade?” she asked, half-taunting and half-advising.
Thrighan hissed in response to the sting of the wound, then struck back with his elbow. Aroal anticipated it and took the blow in the chest, but fell back with it, absorbing little of the impact. She caught her own landing and used the energy to roll back to a safer distance.
The barbarian man turned, trying to ignore the wound in his side. He had no comeback for Aroal, but he was pissed.
* * *
Sara watched Aroal from inside the door. “She moves with such grace, and has no fear of such an up close confrontation. It’s as if she was dancing a dance she had practice all her life.” Sara said aloud to those near her. She then continued to gaze at what she saw as a beautiful dance.
* * *
Al sighed and listened to the brawl happening outside the bar. There was no need to help Aroal, she was more than capable of taking out a drunkard, even if he was married to her at one time. Elainne came downstairs looking a lot cleaner. “Master Al...” She yawned. “I feel like I’ve been sleeping on sticks for the past week.”
“You have been,” Al muttered. Elainne shot him a quick glare and paused at the sound of battle.
“Is there something happening outside?” she asked.
Al nodded. “Yeah, Aroal is taking care of her business. You’d be best to stay out of it.”
* * *
Unfortunately for Aroal and Thrighan’s score, the streets of Dragon Scale were not the best place to settle it. It didn’t take long for someone to inform the city guard of the duel, and soon, several guardsmen were hurrying up the street.
Thrighan turned to face Aroal, but she saw the guard coming from over her shoulder. She wouldn’t defy them, after all, it wasn’t a good idea to fight in town. Hopefully she could convince them that she was only defending herself. Thrighan, still oblivious to the approaching guard, swung at Aroal again. She jumped back, out of the massive blade’s range. Before he could swing again, the guards announced themselves.
“Hey! You there! Drop your weapons!” a guard cried out. They were six men in all. Four had their swords ready and the two others had their crossbows leveled at Thrighan.
Aroal obeyed, and dropped her axes. Thrighan, however, turned to look over his shoulder with a glare towards the guards.
“Falaris damn you,” he spat. “This is between me and my wife! Let me handle my business in peace!”
“Don’t call me your wife!” Aroal snapped back at Thrighan.
“I don’t care who she is or what your business, we won’t tolerate you fighting in our streets!” the same guard replied firmly. “Drop your weapon, or we will fire!”
Thrighan didn’t reply to the order. Instead, he swung about, heaving his sword in an arch as he did. It caught one of the bowmen by surprise and tore through his chest. With a scream of shock, the guard fell back, but he managed to aim his crossbow at Thrighan and fire. The heavy bolt pierced the barbarian’s leather armor at the shoulder. The other bowman fired again, his bolt, though aimed for the chest, caught Thrighan’s bicep.
Aroal was shocked. She had no idea that Thrighan would lash out at the city guard. The man he hit was as good as dead unless a very skilled priestess could get to him within the minute. The arrows hadn’t stopped him either. He was like a wild animal, the injuries only served to anger him further.
She wasn’t going to stand by and let the guards fight him though. Aroal picked up one of her axes and dashed up behind Thrighan. She jumped on his back and wrapped her legs around his waist, then threw her arms and the axe over his head. Holding onto either end of the axe, she pressed the handle into Thrighan’s throat, trying to choke him.
“Bring him down!” she cried to the guards. Thrighan’s main concern became his breathing as Aroal was crushing his windpipe. The barbarian clawed at the axe, but she had wrapped herself tightly around him and had her full weight and strength on the axe.
The guards reacted quickly, recognizing the opening. They charged, intending to knock him off his feet and disarm him. With Aroal clinging to him, they couldn’t run him through without potentially killing her too. The two swordsmen threw their weight into Thrighan.
However, the fight had caught the attention of others. In the spirit plane, the intense well of rage generated from Thrighan caught the attention of a Hyuri. The spirit of rage was pleased to find itself a victim and quickly spirit took a hold of Thrighan’s mind. The barbarian wasn’t strong enough to resist the possession, and he didn’t want to fight it either. Rage consumed Thrighan’s mind.
As the guards hit him, Thrighan pushed himself forward, countering their momentum. The guards were knocked flat on their backs, but Thrighan dropped his weapon in the process. He was single minded in getting Aroal off his back.
Aroal felt a chill up her spine and suddenly Thrighan’s strength increased. He was snarling like a wild animal and she could feel his muscles bulging. She didn’t budge though. Aroal clung to the axe as if her life depended on it. Why wasn’t he going down? What she couldn’t see was the sudden change in expression. Thrighan’s pupils had shrank to pinpricks and his eyes had gone nearly completely white from Hyuri’s possession.
* * *
Sara stood still in the frantic crowd and watched in terror. Her skin crawled as her mind went quite; she feared for the crowed and her companion. Something about this man just went terribly wrong and she know they were going to have to take action.
Myel-Elina was utterly terrified by the scene. She didn’t like fighting, and that one was getting worse each instant. She had believed Aroal could win easily, but the intervention of the guards, the attack of Thrighan and finally his sudden strength and terrible look took her from excitement to terror.
I have to do something. I cannot stay here. I must help, I have to find the courage. Myel-Elina gathered the little courage left in her, and took her crossbow. Slowly, carefully, she managed to load it. She lift her weapon, trying not to tremble. Then, she aimed at Thrighan’s knee, hoping this could stop him...
* * *
The second a Hyuri spirit came up, the wolves snapped. They leapt to their feet and skidded to a stop at the door, ready to leap for the neck. But old Zylan called them back as he approached slowly. “Sense a spirit, do you?” he said to them as he came out of the door. “Mieijha,” the old man barked as he pushed out to the front of the crowd. Sure, he didn’t expect to break the spell, but he figured he might slow it down a bit.
“Great existence all, your power I call forth. Quell the monstrous fury of the beast!” Magic energies struck towards the heart of the berserker, but it wouldn’t be enough. Zylanthian knew his own power would not be enough. A sorcerer’s magic could only do so much against a spirit’s. But he had to keep trying. Keep casting spells! “Force of nature, rise to tear your child’s heart free of this primal presence!” Another spell, this time to break possession. The spells would work without him now, so he decided to, at best, restrict him some. “Earthly forces, show your might and hold back the tide of fury!” The final spell would weigh down his body. Surely, his berserker strength could still move, but, he hoped, not as well. The spell required focus to continue, because it was the strength of his will that created physical control. The stronger his mind, the stronger he would be held back. So, Zylan gave it his all. These were all spells he used on animals, but Aroal’s husband was reduced to it in some fashion, so he hoped that he would work...
Mieijha had been ignoring the fight for the most part, while enjoying a glass of wine. However, when Hyuri descended into Thrighan, she felt it. The elf dropped her goblet on the table and gasped. She hopped out of her seat and dashed out after Zylan.
“It’s Hyuri! He’s become a berserker!” she announced to all who didn’t know. It was said that even the most powerful shamans could not break the hold of Hyuri, but she had to try. They were in the middle of a city!
“Leprechaun, Spirit of Confusion, descend upon this warrior!” Mieijha called quickly, and the goblin-like forms of Leprechaun appeared. They sought out Thrighan and tried to drive themselves into his mind, to break Hyuri’s hold.
* * *
“Oh shit,” Scythed said when Mieijha cried out ‘Hyuri’. He drew his sword and ran towards Thrighan, taking a swing at his ankle, hoping to sever the tendon above the heel and immobilize him
By all rights, Thrighan should have been unconscious from Aroal’s choking, but he still fought her. When she heard Mieijha’s shout, she knew why she wasn’t stopping. Hyuri had possessed him. He would keep fighting until his body could move no more. Starving his brain of oxygen obvious wasn’t enough to stop him.
Zylan’s spell to break the possession had little effect, at first. Thrighan was not fighting the possession in his mind, he fully accepted Hyuri. However, Mieijha’s summon managed to loosen some of Hyuri’s hold. With Zylan still focusing his spell, Hyuri’s power was being pried, ever so slightly, from Thrighan’s mind.
His movements slowed, but he still fought the magical bonds, snarling like a wild beast. When Scythed’s blade hacked into his ankle, Thrighan faltered. Hyuri couldn’t force a leg with a severed tendon to move. The barbarian fell forward. The momentum threw Aroal from his back, flipping her forward. She released one hand on her axe haft and let herself fly. She landed on her back, her armor skidding her across the cobblestone.
“We have to kill him!” one of the guards shouted. “Get reinforcements!” he ordered the other guard, who promptly ran off.
Aroal had no objections, but for some reason, her heart sank when the guard said they had to kill Thrighan. Why should she mourn his loss? He was a heartless man and a cruel husband. Never once had he showed her tenderness when she was his wife. She didn’t intend to kill him when this duel began, if anything, she only wanted to humiliate him. If they wanted to kill him though, she would be the one to do it. Emotions be damned. He was a berserker, and if she shamed him, he’d only find her again. He might die with the wounds he sustained thus far.
Aroal pushed herself back on her feet. She needed a larger weapon than her axes. They didn’t cut deep enough to be fatal to a berserker. She ran back to where the possession first took him, and the guard’s attack disarmed him. His greatsword still laid on the ground and Aroal swooped down to pick it up. It was heavier than what she was used to, but she had wielded a greatsword before and she was a strong woman.
Meanwhile, the fall had been a shock to Hyuri, who had slipped slightly, but a primal rage from Thrighan himself allowed Hyuri to slip back into total control. The effect of the wizard and shaman’s spells was broken. The berserker forced himself back up, putting his weight on his good leg. His movement was inhibited by his wounded leg, but he still moved on, this time for Scythed.
* * *
“Damn!” Mieijha spat. She saw the spirit form of Hyuri on Thrighan’s back clearly now, with Aroal out of the way. “I felt it almost lose its hold!” she growled in frustration to Zylan. “I don’t think he’s fighting it at all.”
* * *
Aroal came charging in from the side with a battle cry, Thrighan’s greatsword in her hands. He was hunched over, which luckily for her, brought his head lower. She leapt up, then came back down with all her weight behind the blade, aiming for the back of his neck. With a sickly crunch, the heavy sword broke through his vertebrae and more ripped than severed the barbarian’s head from his shoulders. His body crashed to the street heavily.
Aroal landed on her feet, but with such force she had to drop down to a crouch to save her knees. It...it was done. Thrighan was dead. She wasn’t sure if that broke Hyuri’s possession over his body, but he was dead. She stood slowly, still holding his greatsword and looked down at his body, her expression blank and unreadable.
* * *
The death of the demon of a man finally let the wizard drop his focus and wipe the sweat from his brow. “Looks like I need to brush up on my skills,” Zylan said, scratching his head. “I should hope we never meet another of those again. That’s quite a way to tell a man when you are not quite good enough at something...” In the flurry of the event, Zylan had managed to lose his cane. He didn’t particularly need it to walk or stand as other old men did. It was only his eye.
The two wolves backed down and, moments later, Wolfgang had retrieved his cane as a dutiful dog might have. “Ahh... Well, don’t be expecting dessert for this,” the old man chided. “I’ve already spent too much of my savings on you...”
* * *
“As fun as that was, I’m kinda glad it’s over,” Scythed said, prodding Thrighan’s corpse corpse with his sword. “He just wouldn’t die would he?” He wiped the blood off his sword on Thrighan’s clothes before returning it to its sheath “... I need a drink,” he said, and walked off towards the inn.
Sara drooled at the site of all the blood. It took her a second and then she wiped her lips and chin. “Such power, I have never seen. Aroal, I would follow you in to the depths of Kardis’ tomb and back,” Sara gasped. She had already admired Aroal, but now she felt as though she walked among a goddess and would protect her at all cost. Although it was clear she didn’t need protecting.
Aroal turned away from Thrighan’s headless corpse, ignoring Sara’s praise. Why did it hurt so much to have killed him? Wasn’t it what she wanted? The barbarian woman walked away, almost ignoring the heavy greatsword she still carried. She went to the side of the inn, then slumped down against it, dropping Thrighan’s sword in front of her.
The return of the guards was announced by the sound of armored footsteps ringing on the cobblestone. The men came around the corner from a side street, but stopped when they saw Thrighan’s corpse. They met with the man that was left behind to discuss the situation, and what they should do.
Aroal raised her head when she saw the guards return, then waiting patiently for them to deal with her. She hoped that she wouldn’t be arrested, but she was willing to accept her punishment with dignity.
Everything had passed too quickly for Myel-Elina. When she finally had found the courage to use her crossbow, Scythed was on Thrighan’s ankle. She could no more fire without risking hurting the mercenary. A blink of an eye later (or what it seems to Myel-Elina), all was over; the head of Thrighan was lying on the ground.
The bard felt despaired. After all, she wasn’t able to help. When her friends and comrades fought courageously, she was terrified, unable to make a single move. Sara’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. She looked at Aroal. The barbarian woman was waiting quietly. Myel-Elina could feel sadness in Aroal’s eyes. She came closer.
“You did well, Aroal,” the bard said softly. Her voice was calm, peaceful, and somehow comforting. “You saved many lives, not only yours or the guards’. Thrighan would have killed many persons, for no other reasons that his wrath. Don’t feel worried, everyone must sometimes do things he’d rather not commit, and you did what was the best to do.” She hoped her words would appease the barbarian’s pain. She knew what it feels like to lose someone involved in one’s life; but to kill that person by yourself was different, even if you didn’t like him.
* * *
“Lone wolves thrive on their loneliness,” the old sage said, listening to the distinctive steps of Myel walking in the direction of Aroal’s retreat. “Don’t they, Ludwig?” The large canine simply rubbed up against his leg. “Yes, they do. Let us hope we do not have such a species that way.” Taking up his cane, he began to tap his way towards the inn once more. “Besides, anger is a harsh mistress, but revenge is more like an iron maiden. We shall see what wounds she comes out with herself, for they can bleed longer.”
Ludwig and Wolfgang listened intently, one on each side of their human companion. Each nudged him in a direction when need be, until he found his particular chair again. They sat loyally at his side.
“Well, that certainly puts a damper on the evening, now doesn’t it? And the bard is still outside. Well, I don’t think they want to hear me sing. You two can sing, can’t you?” Zylan asked, looking down at his wolves. They stared back. “Sing a little, would you?” The staring continued. “Maybe a note or two? Hum a bar?” Silence. “Bah! You two are no fun!”
Al’s face was pale. He was no shaman, had no magical training at all, but he felt the spirit. His sword resonated with the other spirit making Al glad he bound the sword in its sheath, otherwise he would have also joined the fray. Although paler than usual, and his hands were shaking, Al kept up the fa?de that he was fine.
Elainne noticed, and she placed her hand on his reassuringly. “It’s alright sir.”
* * *
Mieijha sighed and placed her hand on Aroal’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t do something for him. Are you alright?”
Aroal nodded to Myel-Elina and Mieijha. She didn’t want to talk about it, because she was afraid she would cry. She could feel the tears welling up and she refused to let them fall. In fact, she didn’t even feel as if a tear should be shed over Thrighan’s death. It was as if her mind hardly cared, but her heart was a different story.
The guards split up, some of the men went to their fallen comrades and Thrighan’s corpse. The guard who had remained, and appeared to be the leader, approached Aroal.
“Madam, we need to speak with you. If you would please accompany us to the guardhouse, we have some questions to take before clearing this matter. You are not under arrest, and we are grateful for your quick reactions, however, we must know the circumstances surrounding this fight,” the guard spoke.
Aroal rose to her feet and avoided meeting anyone in the eyes. She nodded to the guard.
The guard then looked down to the two other women. “Ladies, will you please speak to guard Stedler, he will be recording statements from the witnesses,” the captain said politely to Myel and Mieijha, then directed them toward a guard who had started speaking to the mercenaries who had been in Thrighan’s company earlier in the evening.
Aroal forced her tears back. She had to ask someone to take care of Thrighan’s sword. Not for Thrighan’s burial, but she intended to keep the greatsword for herself. Despite her conflicting emotions, she didn’t intend to oversee Thrighan getting a proper burial for a man of her tribe. He was dishonorable, in her opinion, and not deserving of a warrior’s burial.
“Sa..ra,” Aroal spoke, her voice cracking from the lump in her throat. Falaris dammit, don’t cry! she cursed to herself. “Sara, will you please take care of his sword for me?”
Sara gently took the sword from Aroal hands. “I’ll watch it as if it were my own.” Sara said, with out giving the idea a second thought. Aroal had given her a simple task and she would follow through as if it were a life threatening task. “Do you wish for me to stay near?” Sara asked Aroal. She had stated the she would always be there if Aroal call upon her and the current circumstance didn’t change her word one bit.
Aroal shook her head. “Stay here, they will want to speak with you,” the barbarian replied to Sara.
“Let’s go, ma’am,” the guard captain beckoned. Aroal followed obediently as he led her away.
Mieijha gave a small nod and went to give her statement. “He started it inside the bar,” she stated. “Although I cannot say that they were happy to see each other, they have some history, I believe.”
While Aroal was led away, the guard ordered to question the witnesses listened to what was told him. He balked a little when Mieijha spoke to him. She looked like a dark elf, after all. “All....alright,” he said nervously, nodding to her statement. “And what was the man’s name?”
“Thrighan,” one of the mercenaries spoke up.
“Does anyone know his business in town?” Stedler asked.
“He’s a merc. We all just got off a job with a merchant caravan. We were gonna stay the night here, then this started...” the mercenary continued to explain.
“How did it start?”
“Well, Thrighan was goin’ on about how women can’t fight and stab you in the back, and it pissed off a girl in the inn. Well, he was pissin’ off a lot of people with the way he was carryin’ on... but then she came in,” he said, pointing to Aroal as she walked away. “He called her a... ‘stupid little bitch’, then she greeted him as her husband, and said some things about how she defeated him before. He got pissed and drew his sword in the inn, and that’s when she ran outside,” the mercenary explained. He was a little more sympathetic to Aroal, since most of the group was left in agreement that Thrighan was far too hotheaded.
“Right,” Stedler said, obviously thinking over what the mercenary explained. “And what about the fight? Who struck the first blow.”
“Well, we all ran out here to see what would happen. It was Thrighan who struck first. She just dodged him, and wounded him once. Then the guards showed up and tried to bring him down. I’ve never seen a man that pissed....and then...the elf said he was a berserker. That’s when umm...what’s her name and Scythed brought him down.”
“A...berserker?” Stedler was obviously chilled. He turned back to Mieijha. “A berserker? How... how do you know?”
* * *
Zylanthian was partly glad that he was not involved with the interviews outside. While he was not stealthy and he unintentionally brought about attention to himself, he tried to avoid being known about by an entire city. After all, his old position as a noble and his competitors did not know where he was. It was better that they didn’t. Besides, they wanted witnesses. The old sage couldn’t see. He bore witness to nothing but darkness. They would do better to ask his wolves, though their responses might not be trusted.
So, blending back in to the uncomfortable inn atmosphere, he began to sip his tea.
