Today’s snippet, titled “A Good Day”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Mark’s Pathfinder Campaign.
Note: This chapter (number 25, actually) was originally completed and emailed to my gaming group one year ago today – 1/11/15. Funny. This session occurred in September, I believe, but I didn’t complete the RP until we had resumed post-hiatus, in January 2015.
Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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Rhiallis held her blade at the ready. Their party had swelled from its original six members to ten. Now, with Athynacious commanding the Knights of Kenabres in Graves’ absence, they numbered nine.
Korael, her bow in hand, was near the rear. Koto, a halfling who wielded both a curved knife and spells with ease, kept pace with her. He had been rather intrigued by Mytra’s badger, Isaac, who had doubled in size since she first joined their expedition. Can I ride him? Ya think he’d let me ride him? Koto had asked over and over. Mytra, such a sweet girl, had never gotten snippy or annoyed, but just gently rebuffed him and said, maybe one day, if he likes you, Koto.
For her part, Mytra had been moving near the rear as well. Though she was a priestess, she worshipped Cernnunos and used a longbow to good effect. Perhaps she was not as skilled as Lucien or Idril had been, nor even Korael, but she was more than competent. The elven priestess filled another role as well, Rhiallis reflected. As Graves and Kumiko dedicated more and more time to their respective armies and martial duties, Mytra had cleaved to her side and become a good friend.
Jensen moved in the middle of the group most of the time, protected from the vulnerable spot in the rear, but not quite in the van. He had become quiet since the disputes in the shadow of the walls of Drezen.
At her left, Celeste moved in rank with her. From time to time, her serious eyes met Rhiallis’ and she smiled, but Rhiallis could read the tension in her shoulders and the throbbing vein in her throat. She was ready for battle, but not eager for it. Not hungry for it in the way Graves and Kumiko seemed to be. Rhiallis watched them move; they were jungle cats, having scented prey, their tails twitched with anticipation. There is evil here, and they can both taste it. Will it make up for letting Maximillian live, if we vanquish whatever lurks here?
Mira gave her a quirky smile. The hin motioned with her chin to the statues lining the bridge and wrinkled her nose.
“They’re evil,” Rhiallis whispered back. “But they mustn’t have been before.”
“Before,” Mira said, pointedly, “Lots of things were different here.”
She gripped her blade once more, moving along the bridge with her friends and comrades. Her eyes darted left and right, squinting through the fog.
“There’s more… evil here,” she frowned, pausing. There was a tingling at the edge of her perceptions, a familiar prickle that meant something foul was afoot. Still, as she looked around, nothing but the statues stood out to her critical gaze. A queer thought occurred to her and she cast her gaze upwards.
“Above us,” she whispered.
The overwhelming presence of something large and terrible and hideously evil shocked her into action. Graves and Celeste had reached the same conclusion and as the party began to break into a battle array at their command, a torrent of ice and cold magic descended upon them.
Worse than the fire the goat-faced demons had wielded, this ice burned.
“Oh SHIT!” Graves said, her fierce eyes falling upon their foe as it emerged from the fog.
It was an abomination, unlike anything Rhiallis had ever seen before. Three heads – white dragon, red tiger, and black goat – on three sinewy necks lashed out from a powerful, muscular body that was somehow all three animals at once. It made a sound – growl, hiss, roar, and bleat – and wicked fangs flashed from all three mouths.
Leading the troupe, as always, Graves was closest to the thing. It grabbed her in two of its mouths, teeth rending flesh all the way to the bone, and as she screamed, the dragon and the tiger wrenched in opposite directions, grinding her body as if to quarter her.
The attack took all of a heartbeat, then it dropped Graves to the ground like she was nothing more than a chicken bone with the meat sucked off.
Rhiallis saw its eyes as it turned gaze upon the rest of the party. Six pools of darkest indigo, glowing with an unnatural, malevolent light. She shuddered.
“ATTACK!” Someone shouted – perhaps it was Kumiko, or Celeste, or even Rhiallis herself, she just was not sure, for an instant later, chaos broke loose upon the bridge.
Iomedae’s wrath shone from her cold iron blade as she charged the chimera. Celeste’s as well. They moved in a blur, hastened by Jensen’s timely incantation. Blades sang in the misty air and the beast delivered bite after bite after bite, crunching steel and slaking its thirst with the blood of righteous warriors.
“Graves!” Kumiko cried, bringing her blade up in a broad arc. “Move! Behind!”
Rhiallis could feel the bitterness in her friend’s heart as she heaved herself away from the front lines; Graves had been born for the song of battle and leaving it, even though she was mortally wounded, tortured her.
From the corner of her eye, Rhiallis saw movement beyond Graves, who had taken up position near a statue to heal herself. Her heart stopped in her chest as she saw three sets of blazing red eyes blink in turn. Another one? Before the thought could cross to her lips, the dragon’s head of a second chimera – this one a lurid green – opened its jaws and let out a roar soaked in brackish acid.
“Oh. Oh my word.” Jensen managed to rather unconcerned about the second beast, though the look of abject terror in his eyes spoke volumes.
Mira dove back through the first enemy’s forelegs, dragging her blades along its belly as she did, and tumbled across the ground toward Graves. Mytra and Korael’s arrows had pricked its hide half-a-hundred times, it seemed, to little effect, yet still they soldiered on.
Koto screamed in frustrated rage as the first chimera began snapping again, as if it too had been quickened by magic.
The bridge was awash in blood and footing was precarious at best as Graves, bolstered by Mytra’s healing magic, charged forward. A primal howl parted her lips as she drove Radiance deep into the chimera’s chest. The enchanted blade glowed with a powerful pure light, Graves’ arm finding a vital spot. Crumpling to its knees, the beast fell forward. Six impossibly blue eyes closed.
Hope surged through her veins and Rhiallis whirled, dashing toward the second one. She and Kumiko engaged it, swords flashing in the eerie light. Sweat dripped into her eyes and Rhiallis hesitated on a swing, trying to whip a few strands of bloodied hair out of her face. That was all the invitation the beast needed. Two of her heads darted out and grabbed Rhiallis.
She screamed.
Her vision went white and exploded again in red agony as the dragon’s teeth and the tiger’s fangs pierced her armor and under it, her flesh.
The twang of bows were punctuated by a cry from the beast and through her pain, Rhiallis heard Korael’s voice shout out in triumph – she had scored a shot directly to one of the eyes.
The next thing she knew, she was on her back on the cobbled bridge, breathing shallowly to try and abate the pain in her chest. Rhiallis turned her head, locating each of her friends in turn.
Graves had gone to one knee nearby, catching her breath. Mira was doubled over, hands on her knees, and Koto hopped from one foot to the other, his eyes darting around wildly. The elven females, Mytra and Korael bent to retrieve arrows. Jensen approached the first beast, prodding the goat’s head with a toe. Kumiko stood at his side, giving him a strange, cynical look. She flicked the long, narrow blade with practiced ease, blood and gore spattering the ground, and sheathed it.
“Dead,” she said, in her matter-of-fact way. “We must move on.”
“Yeah, Snowblood is right. If these Chimeras were guarding the bridge, the Gods only know what else they got waiting for us inside.” Jensen’s bright elven eyes glittered with anticipation of treasure and magic and secrets to come.
Mytra cursed, tossing a fractured arrow to the ground. “Let us catch our breath. And someone remind me to purchase arrows like Korael’s. Hardly any of these survived.”
They chuckled, post-battle tension shattered, and began to rise from the bridge to gather themselves to push forward. Rhiallis closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. Iomedae’s blessings slid over her body, mending her wounds.
“Everyone survived. The battle is won.” she told herself, opening her eyes. “Today is a good day.”
As she climbed to her feet, Rhiallis realized she was wrong.
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Note: Image is “King Jagiello Statue Central” by (Mulligand) from SXC.hu; edited by me