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Chapter 0025: Rage and Rescue

  Rushing wind followed the magic user as he escaped from the screaming of the mines. The screams didn’t only come from the vicious battle cry of the brigand’s leader, Travis, as he yanked knife after knife from his bandolier and swung with fury at the intrusion of Jarod’s ambush and the betrayal of the magic user’s abandonment. The screams also came from the wall of long and grasping arms that still entangled Jarod and Filgrin, calling out in unholy pain as their sinewy limbs sprung from black nothingness against the stone.

  It was a good thing Ionda had escaped up the ladder, because in the brief time he’d engaged in combat with them, he’d proven to be a dangerous adversary. In the span of only a few seconds, he’d practically teleported across the room, thrown whatever foul spell had spawned the mass of arms behind him, and turned incorporeal to rush away, fast as the wind. This was Jarod’s first time facing a magic user in combat, and he came to the clear conclusion that they were dangerous.

  In Ionda’s absence, the party still dealt with the lingering effects of his spell, and with the hulking man still intent on murdering them. What’s more, the demands of the drawn-out fight, in combination with their lack of sleep, and the relentless travel of the past days, were beginning to bear their bitter fruit. A brief spell of dizziness came over Jarod, as adrenaline proved insufficient to run off alone. He shook it off quickly, and grounded himself back into the fight, but could feel some of his strength and speed leave him behind.

  Overextended penalty applied

  Although they might not have been in top form, there was no other option than to continue their fight. Nikolao and Tex’ana both attacked Travis with grim confidence, landing a blow each to the man’s chest and back. Basma and the ones who’d been hiding in the mineshaft with Tex’ana were more hesitant to engage with the man. Basma swung again with her sword, forcing the brigand to dance out of the way and into a hail of rocks that pelted him. Mostly he shrugged them off, but one throw managed to land a solid hit on his head, briefly staggering him. Jarod and Filgrin thought now would be a prudent time to try to escape the wall of arms from the magic user.

  Strength Contest

  Success on 5

  [8/11] successes

  Jarod wins

  Jarod slammed his buckler into one of the arms coiled around his midsection and took the advantage of its momentary lapse in grip to wriggle free from the wall. Filgrin was still restrained, so Jarod stepped between him and the brigand, preparing to defend against his attacks once more.

  Defensive stance

  [1]+1

  Penalty score: 2

  Ally penalty score: 1

  Travis bellowed out in rage once more, as bloodlust filled his eyes with hate. He ripped a pair of knives free from their sheaths with hooks on the end of them. “Puny fool, thinking you can stand against me,” he said, swinging down hard directly against Jarod’s buckler.

  Strength check (10)

  [2]+1-2

  Failure

  Jarod didn’t even have to move to block the tandem strikes Travis threw at him, but he didn’t expect the effect they would have against the buckler. As the knives impacted, Jarod felt his shoulder jolt painfully. At first it seemed like he had deflected the blow, but then he felt a sudden tug on his arm as the brigand tried to wrench the shield out of his hand. The knives were balanced off-center, so their impact, close to the handle, had wrapped the hooks around the top of the buckler. Now, these hooks were being used to their full effect, prying the shield away.

  Defensive stance benefits lost

  Penalty score: 0

  Though he was a strong man himself, Jarod stood no chance against the hulking form of the brigand, and he was forced to drop his grip on the buckler, lest he be dragged behind it into Travis’s arms.

  Their solitary enemy wasn’t finished yet. He whipped the shield with one of the knives still attached into the corner of the room. The other knife he’d managed to yank free was hurled at the most viable target, still captured by Ionda’s spell: Filgrin. The old man managed to jerk in his restraints, just enough for the knife to thunk against the black portal upon the stone right where his head had been. Unfortunately, his sudden movement pulled his shoulder just into range of another hand trying to grab at him. It latched on tight, leaving him wide open for an attack. An attack that Travis was more than happy to provide.

  Jarod watched the huge man circle past him, towards the open target. Not seeing an opportunity to strike at the man with his longsword, Jarod decided to aim a little lower, and threw a kick aimed at the man’s knee.

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  Defensive penalty applied

  Ally penalty score: 0

  The kick’s power wasn’t strong enough against Travis’s thick legs to do any serious damage, but it was enough to make him stumble slightly. A stumble that happened right as he began his swing at Filgrin. Rather than sink the blade into the bowyer’s head, it missed to the left, and sank into the forearm of one of the disembodied arms reaching from the black void. As it sank into the unnatural limb, the screams came again with renewed vigor. Filgrin might develop some tinnitus from the experience, but at least he’d survived what could have been another deadly blow.

  Travis snarled, and whirled around to face the rest of the room that was closing in on him now. “Come on,” he shouted above the wailing of Ionda’s spell. “I’ll face every one of you. Fear of death has no hold on me.”

  The rest of the room was more than happy to put that statement to the test. One by one, their blades slashed out, cutting into the brigand leader’s legs, and stomach, eventually bringing him to his knees. Thanks to the injured limb beside him, Filgrin was finally able to break free from the spell, and hopped backwards. He was weary, but with strength enough to draw his bow.

  Filgrin looked Travis in the eye. Mad frenzy was still painted plain across the brigand’s face, even as his body was broken. Before he got a last chance to defend himself, Filgrin released an arrow, and put a shot cleanly into Travis’s eye socket.

  The brigand leader’s arms fell slowly to his sides, not wanting to believe that their time was up. Even after they did, he stayed on his knees for a couple seconds more, then fell back to rest against his heels, then fell to the side to rest forevermore.

  With their last victim gone, the arms reaching out from the effect on the wall faded away, pulling back into the blackness that faded out of existence with a final cut-off scream. It was quiet in the mine once more, the only noise coming from the heavy breathing of their group. They were all exhausted.

  Jarod sat down atop a bedroll alongside Basma to catch his breath. “You doing okay?” he asked. She looked a little out of it to him.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” said Basma. “I didn’t even get hit during the fight. It’s just… it’s been a lot. I keep thinking that someone is going to wind up dead.”

  “I understand,” Jarod said. He put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s how I feel too. Every time I see one of them take a swing at you or Filgrin. Or when that bastard had a knife to Esther’s neck…” He was surprised to find that he was beginning to feel the same way about Nikolao and Tex’ana, not that he would say that aloud. It was true that every swing against one of his companions had him fearing for them even more than for his own life. That was why he’d been so eager to react defensively, and why he’d been so relieved when that kick to the leg had worked to turn aside the knife aimed at Filgrin.

  Jarod had been startled by the message when it appeared. He hadn’t expected to be able to provide any more defense for Filgrin, at least not in the capacity the messages would inform him of. It felt at first like it could have just been him acting outside of the messages, but he supposed it was still in accordance with what they’d told him. He might have lost the benefits of his defensive stance, but his “eye for protection” ability was something else entirely. Something only triggered by taking a defensive stance, not tied to it after the fact.

  It was a little bit spooky, truthfully, having all of his actions be dictated by these messages that seemed outside of his control. He didn’t feel like he’d lost his free will or anything like that; he’d never felt forced into something because of the messages. Maybe this so-called System the Voice had spoken of only displayed these messages after he’d already made his decision, after he’d already acted. Did that mean that the System could see into the future? That it already knew his every move?

  He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Something for a philosopher to ponder, not for someone trying to save their home from imminent destruction.

  Jarod stood up with a grunt, feeling the tightness in his muscles already forming. He would definitely have to figure out how to finesse a nice bath from Nikolao when they got to Chath.

  The room was full of weary souls, all eager to get a move on, to escape the underground lair. All except for Nikolao who was looking perplexed at something he held in his hands. Jarod walked over to make sure he knew people were ready to leave.

  “Shall we get back on the road?” Jarod asked. “I know you were eager to leave for Chath.”

  “Yes, we best get going,” said Nikolao, but he didn’t take his eyes off the object in his hands.

  “What did you find?”

  “The magic user dropped it during the fight. You wouldn’t happen to be familiar with this, would you? I swear I’ve seen it before, but I can’t remember where.”

  Nikolao showed the object to Jarod. It was a small stone rectangle with an inset portion in the shape of an arch. The arch swung open on unseen hinges that must have been inside the stone, creating a little doorway that you could look through. All over the arch and around the outside edge were runes, similar to those carved on smooth stone walls of the mine.

  “Never seen anything like it, as far as I can remember,” said Jarod. “Those runes look like the ones on the walls though.”

  Nikolao looked at him, puzzled. “What runes?”

  “The ones on the wall,” said Jarod, walking over to a particularly dense section of the writing. “Just like these.”

  The look didn’t fade from Nikolao’s face. “I can’t see any runes, either on the wall, or on this trinket.”

  Jarod didn’t know what to say. He just shrugged. There was nothing else to explain.

  “It seems you’ll have more people to talk to once we get to Chath,” said Nikolao. “And indeed, we should get going if we’re ever to arrive there. Up the ladder everyone, but keep an eye out.”

  Nikolao led the group up the ladder, taking point this time. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anybody waiting in ambush at the top.

  The horses had all been untied and had started to wander about the clearing, but they had been well-trained and hadn’t run off into the forest. No doubt another parting gift from Udi. They were easy enough to round up though, and there were enough between the ones they’d taken from Blackpool Outlook and the brigands’ to give everyone a ride.

  They found out that the young man they’d rescued was from Blackpool Outlook himself, and he agreed to accompany Esther back with him. She was eager to see her kids. The two surveyors they’d rescued would head back to Chath with the rest of the group. Jarod watched Nikolao pull them aside as Esther said her goodbyes to Basma. The lead surveyor spoke to his men sternly about not messing with Jarod anymore, which he was glad to hear.

  As Nikolao gave the lecture, Esther came over to give him his own goodbye. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done. You’ve rescued me, and it sounds like a good deal of the town as well.”

  “It’s nothing, really,” said Jarod. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”

  “Well you’re the one that’s done it, so I’ll thank you.” She pulled him close and gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. When she pulled away, she smiled at him sadly. “Make it back in one piece now, Wilfurd wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt.”

  Jarod felt himself choke up when Wilfurd’s name was mentioned. Seeing Esther safe made him feel as if he’d done one final favor for his friend. Not enough to make up for his life, but maybe a start.

  “All finished, Jarod?” Nikolao called out. He and the other surveyors were already atop their horses, the other two looking sufficiently subdued.

  “Ready for a hot bath as soon as we get to the city,” Jarod joked. He climbed atop his horse and gave a glance at Basma and Filgrin. They’d a journey ahead of them still, but it felt as if they’d already accomplished so much after defeating the brigands.

  The 7 riders rode back into the forest, and off towards the city. They had a meeting with the king to make.

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