With nostrils full of hellish flame, the large, black-as-night, bat-winged horse bursts through the protective veil, back into the blazing heat of Calcienta and lands beside the group of tethered camels, half-a-mile from the tower. The humpbacked creatures’ twin-lidded, long lashed eyes bulge and they try to run but the iron rods that their reins are tied to, are driven down too deep.
Gently lowering her wounded son to the floor, the suddenly scar free Hetzabah roots through his supplies for the remainder of his potions.
“Drink this my handsome boy.”
Sir Briefadel’s eyes flutter open and he coughs.
“They tried to kill me! You said that they wouldn’t! You said that they’d join our cause! You swore we were invincible! I could have died!”
Rising naked, from her crouched position, the beautiful, raven haired woman glances back down at the still supine Sir Briefadel.
“Truthfully, that didn’t go as I’d expected. The Elf’s possession of an ‘Oath bow’ was a surprise but there’s something beyond mere revenge driving those men. Something deeper. Perhaps something that they don’t even understand themselves. The Orc raised Halfling and the far too tall Elf are oddities I can’t place but something about the scent of the Human Gladiator is disturbingly familiar…”
Alive but still injured, Sir Briefadel clambers, shakily to his armour-clad feet and scowls at his, somehow much younger, Mother.
“Sod the bloody adventurers! I can’t believe my own soldiers betrayed me! Why on Fissa, would mercenary scum like that put loyalty before gold?!”
> Why on Fissa, would mercenary scum like that put loyalty before gold?!
ReplyDeleteSpoken like a true aristocrat - he can't conceive that people other than high-born would possess loyalty and not be motivated purely by money.
He is the scum here - shit that floats to the top!
Nice response. In all honesty though, self preservation and a distinctly negative attitude towards their shamelessly traitorous, previous employer, might have had something to do with their final decision. :P
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