~ Dire Struggle for Dillend: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

Storm wipes his forehead on his sleeve as he meets up with Wheeler on the way into the Stable. His chest heaves painfully with every breath, rather bruised from that damn wizard's unnatural staff. He massages his chest muscles slightly as he enters the stable, trying to ease the soreness as best he could. "I thought me saw them all go in 'ere..." he mumbles to himself.

He stops short, though, as he sees the scene unfold before him inside the stable. Throwing a quick glance to Wheeler he makes his way closer to the group, and immediately sees Edryd before him. Suddenly Storm's body goes rather limp. He stares at the mighty, tall paladin as he lays on the hay, a wide-eyed, open-mouthed gape upon the dwarf's face. He slowly moves to a better spot around the group, peering over Emma's crouched figure at the downed warrior, the amazed stare not leaving his face for a moment.

Hannibal stood dazed, he hadn't thought the brave paladin to even be mortal, but now this. Stepping aside to let Storm and Wheeler into the room, he suddenly realized through his stupor what was happening...Edyrd was going to die! One by one the weakened paladin said his goodbyes to each in the room. His words, despite weakened by his condition, rang with the honesty and compassion that only Edyrd could express. While Edyrd went from face to face, Hannibal was drawn back to a different time, on the battlefield at Bigamore’s dredge. His lord mortally wounded, Hannibal sat in the mud and held the big man in his arms till he slipped off into the heavens. It was the most horrid and life altering experience Hannibal had ever experienced...until now.

How could one man say so little but mean so much? Hannibal was touched by the warrior's words, so much so that for a moment he had to excuse himself and move to the back of the room...to get some air was his excuse.

Crayne stays silent for a moment. He wipes away some blood from his hand and looks over to Edyrd. His dark sillouette wavering in the light from the stable door. He moves the hair from his face which is distinctly longer since the first meeting between Edyrd of Kalt and Crayne the mage.

"You have never frustrated me my friend! You must never think that! I have learnt much from you and everybody here in the Rinder's Six. You have given me the greatest gift with your friendship and you will forever be remembered amongst us. Your heart is of a goodness that I cannot even comprehend and will probably never grasp!" Crayne moves out of the gloom and moves closer, "May Anhur guide you and let you fly in the magical world that awaits you!"

A tear trickles down Emma's face as she feels the anguish of losing the paladin. She knows he will go to Anhur's judgement hall, and quickly thereafter to his reward, but in some small part of herself, she can't quite help feeling that she has failed him. It was the duty, after all, of a Shield-Maiden to protect the Sword-Bearer as best she could. How could she have made him better, when circumstances had taken her from his side in his time of need?

A small sob escapes her lips, knowing that she shouldn't feel that way. It was a greater duty that had led them both to this moment. The prisoners had to be freed. Almost all of them had survived, their lives defended by the actions of Edryd, Rinder's Six, and even herself. Anhur must have known that much would be demanded of all of them to accomplish such a noble goal, and so he chose the best route by which to achieve the greatest good, even at the cost of his Sword-Bearer. She clenched her jaw to control her anguish, promising herself that Edryd's sacrifice would be explained to the people of Fort Dillend. Anhur's gift to them could not go unrecognized.

Emma reaches up to clasp Mara, the priestess's hand, urging her to kneel in the hay next to Edryd, knowing that these last moments would be a difficult time for her. "Don't worry, Edryd," she spoke to the Sword-Bearer, "We will all see one another again some day." She smiles for his benefit, fighting to hold back her own tears from starting again. "Go proudly into Anhur's hall, and Rinder's Six will always think kindly upon you..."

"My god!" Hannibal exclaimed to himself in shock, "that woman is his bethrothed!!!" Hannibal watches sadly as Edyrd says his final goodbyes to the woman he loved. A love that he could never enjoy because of his faith and his commitment to Rinder. A flood of emotions comes back to Hannibal as he remembers the woman he lost years ago. Anger slowly replaces pain as the face of the man who took her life appears in his memory. The vision of the armored thief standing over her broken body will forever haunt his dreams. Alone, in the back of the stable, Hannibal balls his fists so tightly that his palms bleed where his nails cut through his flesh.

"Your blood will coat my blade yet Bernigan!" he seethes through clenched teeth.

Storm listens intently to Edryd's goodbyes, all the while his face held in its

look of bewilderment. Somewhere in Storm's subconcious the sarcastic thought "Naw...he can't be leavin' us!" kept repeating itself. Storm, though, just stared in disbelief, knowing full well that the subconcious voice was, alas, wrong.

Storm slowly, still in a state of bewilderment, moves his hand forward, loosely taking the silver necklace in his hand while listening to his words. As he finishes and begins to turn to Mara, Storm blinks twice as he regains his composure. As Edryd begins to take his huge, weakened hand from Storm's light grip, the dwarf suddenly grabs the paladin's hand around the holy symbol in a resolute, warm embrace of a tight handshake.

"Aye," he says, looking deep into the paladin's eyes. Had he been a wiser dwarf, he would have seen the light in the warrior's eyes much dimmer than it usually was. "I swear it by me heritage as Storm, son o' Thorn, that The Gale will get yer words and gift." He waits for a second, still holding the grasp as well as the gaze, then begins to say something again. His mouth opens, but no words come out, as he cannot put to words his own regrets and goodbyes. Nor does he let his own utter sadness come through, as he tries to control his dwarven facade as the sad emotions attempt to swell to the surface. It is a mighty battle within the comparatively small dwarf.

But a second later Storm does manage words, his voice straining for its normal gruff composure. "Guilliam be singin' of ye for years to come, I be promisin' that." Then, finally, he takes the pendant from Edryd's hand, releasing the huge hand and

allowing him to finally address his betrothed. As he listens to the final goodbyes, Storm dons the pendant around his own neck. "Aye, for th' ferst time in me life, I do be hopin' the God o' War be smilin' upon me an' all of us." He thinks to himself.

Canter breathes heavily, steadying himself on Crayne as he watches the events unfold before him. He tries to speak, but no words come. His stomach hurts, his head hurts. His heart hurts, and he can't find the means to express it.

Finally Edryd's head is layed to rest upon the hay. Storm takes a solemn step or two backwards, his head hung in disbelief. He walks slowly out of the stables, stopping a few feet from the stable door to glance upward toward the sky. "Anhur," he mumbles under his breath, "Ye better be happy."

Emma reaches forward to touch Edryd's cheek, stroking it softly and closing her eyes against the pain that wells inside of her. She squeezes the hand of the priestess beside her, to lend her some strength, and then leads a soft prayer, spoken aloud.

"A Swordbearer comes your way, mighty Anhur. May your trumpets announce his arrival and your court arise in celebration. For he is truly stout of heart, noble in deed, and courageous in your service."

It was over now, the great Edyrd was gone. Hannibal, not ready to mourn, spins on his heels and walks swiftly from the stable. He scans the fort's walls determindly until he finds a portion of the catwalk relatively unmanned, and then makes his way up. Hannibal stands sentry for the rest of the night, taking only enough time to bandage his wounds, collect what arrows he could find, and eat a light meal.

Cy stands over Edryd's dead body, still having said nothing. There was nothing left to say. Their final exchange had meant more than its words. Now, Cyveiliog pays his respects to the fallen warrior in the best way he can. He lowers himself to one knee, holding his shield before him, its paint peeling and battle-battered. He lowers his face, clutching a fist over his heart. The salute of the Cavalier of Anhur. Edryd, of all people, would have understood.

Crayne will makes his way out of the stable and up to Storm, tapping the dwarf on the shoulder. Knowng that the dwarf is not one for being praised Crayne simply smiles and nodds his head in gratitude.

Crayne then makes his way over to Wheeler. "You made good timing Wheeler. Well done! You have retaken the Fort of Dillend!"

"Thank you, mage Crayne. I just hope it was worth the price we paid," Wheeler responds, stroking the stubble on his chin and rubbing a wound as he looks over the fort's condition: the fires were under control and all the walls were manned, though very thinly. It would have to be enough.

Crayne then continues, "I made a promise to one of the Rinder soldier's that I feel I must carry on through. His name is Cole. You may not know of him. However, it was him who helped bring down the Arch Mage Gaven and certainly helped turn the tide of the Battle of Dillend. For Gaven and his spells were a threat to the outcome of this battle and it was Cole who helped bring down the mage through his bravery. Now I am not familiar with the terms of the Rinder army but if that isn't worth a medal or a promotion then I don't know what is. Please see for me that he is rewarded."

Wheeler nods. "I know the man. I will see to it."

Satisfied, Crayne then seeks out Dire Luthor. He finds the mage in the main hall of the fort, with a tall glass of ale, watching the fire. Crayne takes a moment to watch the elder mage. Was that a tear in his eye?

"We are grateful for all that you have done here today," Crayne begins. Dire's head shoots up, startled at the words. He sniffles and replaces his ale on the table, pulling out a chair for Crayne. The younger mage continues to speak as he approaches his mentor. "We could never have done what we have achieved today if it was not for your presence and magical brilliance."

Crayne nodds in a respectful manner at Dire, "There is only one more thing that I ask of you. If you refuse then I will understand and will still hold you in the very high regard that I do already. It is clear that Baron Wade III is on his way here. Can you do something that will make the fort more defensible? I have heard of magical warding or runes that can be placed on castle walls that can have a strong influence on shaping the outcome of a war. Is it possible that you yourself could create such a device as this?"

Dire listens intently, and thinks carefully before speaking. "Crayne, I will be staying at Fort Dillend. I will not be accompanying Rinder's Six to Merriam. My place is here. And I will continue to defend this fort against all enemies. I do have spells that will aid in the protection of the fort, mostly through large illusions, until proper reinforcements arrive. You are very wise to think of that."

It is late at night, perhaps closer to early morning, before all of Rinder's Six get to sleep. Crayne falls asleep in the great hall, the fire burning low, his head in his arms resting on his spellbook on the table. Storm finds an empty bunk in one of the remaining barracks and begins to snore before his head hits the pillow. Cy spends some time sorting through the debris from the battle, pulling out what weapons could be salvagable. He also checks on the security of the prisoners. Finally, he retires for the night, but not before finding Crayne and handing him Gaven's staff. "You of all people would appreciate this," he says.

Hannibal, however, stays up on the catwalk. Bottling his tears and emotions, he leans against the outer wall of the fort, staring out at the trees in the distance, tortured from the inside out.

Emma folds Edryd's arms on his chest and closes the paladin's eyes. As she does, Mara lets out a gasp. She covers her face with her bloody hands, hysterical. Emma raises the priestess to her feet, comforting her on her own shoulder. "Come," Emma says kindly, "let us find you something warm to drink and perhaps you might even get some rest."

The two priestesses leave the stable, and Emma gives some of the soldiers instructions to properly prepare Edryd for the following day's memorial. They then find their way to the kitchen area, and Emma gets some warm water for the two of them. They sit at one of the tables. Mara is shivering, from the cold and from the shock. Tears stream down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry..." is all Emma can say.

"He was..." Mara begins, unable to speak.

Emma nods, "I know. I know..."

The following morning awakes to a cool mist in the air. The fog is dense and low. Everyone is tired and weak from the previous night's battle. Hannibal bathes in the nearby creek and dresses himself in his nicest clothes. He avoids conversation throughout the day and does his best to be scarce until the memorial begins. Standing to the rear, Hannibal does not volunteer to say anything during the memorial, instead choosing to say his goodbyes quietly.

The gathering is in the central parade ground, the same place as the previous night's battle. A couple of tables are arranged as a stage, and Rinder's troops are gathered in orderly lines facing the stage. Edryd's body is wrapped in nice linens and placed in a small cart, which sits in front of the stage. Rinder's Six, Dire, Wheeler, Kel, and Pinker gather at the front of the troops. It is Emma who ascends the stage to address the troops.

Emma addresses the crowd, dressed in her most formal robe, a colorful scarlet garment with golden embroidery. Her hair is pinned back so that her blonde tresses hang down her back, but leave her face clearly visible to everyone. She holds her shield before her in a ceremonial fashion, indicating her status within the temple of Anhur, and her role in church's work. At first her voice is tentative, but the longer she speaks, the stronger it grows, full of conviction, compassion, and reassurance.

"We lay to rest our brother, Edryd, this day," she says, "A man as much like any other, but also a man that accomplished something greater in the passing of his short life. Edryd of Kalt gave himself to the service of Anhur and also to Rinder's Six, and hence, the crown of Rinder itself. He became a Sword-Bearer to defend the good people of Rinder from the forces of evil that threaten us everyday. And he gave his life in that service so that others might live...to learn and grow in the same spirit that motivated him in life.

"Not everyone understands why a person dies," she continues, "People pass into the afterlife everyday. Some go gently. Others go in the course of violent warfare, such as what we witnessed last night. But many grow angry when a close friend or relative is taken from us unexpectedly. Many of you probably lost your own friends in this battle today, or you will in the war to come. Given that, you might also wonder among yourselves why Anhur takes the lives of these people to his judgement hall so early when they could still accomplish so much more in his name? You might also think that if this Anhur is so concerned with our welfare, and if he truly loves us, then how can he abandon us in our time of need? Why can't he even protect one of his own, a Sword-Bearer?"

At that point, Emma pauses for dramatic effect, hoping to make her point and reach the population of Fort Dillend, and possibly further as the story of the battle is retold throughout Rinder, itself. "I would say to you that if your heart ponders such things, you're asking the wrong questions. The correct thing to ask is why would Anhur care so much about me...and you, and you, and all of us, really...that he would sacrifice his own servant to defend our right to live? It must be because it was the only way. To save as many of us as he could, Anhur had to call upon his servant's very life. He would have gladly spared us all had he the means to do so. And he simply gave all that he could so you and I can stand here today to reflect upon all of this. All of us should realize that a sacrifice that noble should not be looked upon lightly...or questioned. I am convinced that what happened last night was guided by Anhur's hand to the best possible conclusion. We must trust in that...and in him.

"Edryd of Kalt was my friend," the priestess says, tears coming to her eyes as she fights to continue speaking clearly, "He was the friend of Rinder's Six, and a friend to all of you assembled here, even if he never knew you individually. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I will miss him terribly. I'll miss his laugh during times of celebration. I'll miss his wisdom in guiding me through my problems. I'll miss his leadership among Rinder's Six. I'll miss his spirit. But most of all, I'll just miss his presence among us."

She looks back to Mara, briefly and then continues, "Even so, Edryd of Kalt, Sword-Bearer of Anhur, a member of Rinder's Six, will go to his just reward in Anhur's judgement hall this day. And I for one plan to think fondly upon him from time to time...because I know he's happy there. And he awaits each of us at our journey's end...and I'm sure he'll have much to tell us when we get there. For now, though, I'm certain that he would urge each of us to listen well to Anhur's voice. Learn the lessons that guided his life, and ensured his peace even during death. He wishes that because he wants us to join him, so that where he is, we can also be...

"Good-bye, Edryd...," she finishes, looking toward the heavens. She then performs the Ritual of Life's Completion, assisting Mara in bringing the memorial service to a close.

Mara joins Emma, closing her eyes and holding her hands over the cart below. "Anhurtahn beseechem en om gatesahn paradisem tuos." Mara's voice crack, but Emma steadies her, and they continue. "Anhur, we beseech thee open the gates to your paradise. Your servant, Edryd of Kalt, whom you have called, joins the ranks of your celestial army. In your Justice, in your Wisdom, see to it Edryd joins with the greatest of warriors and lives the rest of his days in happiness."

Once the memorial is over, Hannibal makes his way forward and gives his condolences to Mara, saying little more than "I’m sorry for your loss," before melting back into the crowd. The rest of Rinder's Six follows, their heads low and their spirits quieted in reverence.

The rest of the day is spent healing, resting, and recovering. A small group, consisting of just Wheeler, Mara, and Rinder's Six, accompany the cart out to the treeline, where a grave is dug and Edryd's body is finally laid to rest. "En om gatesahn paradisem tuos," Cy repeats as the paladin's body slides into its final resting place.

Wheeler assures the group that a proper gravestone will be provided as soon as the fort is properly manned and the resources are available. With heavy hearts, they head back to the fort. On the way, Emma asks Wheeler about the status of Dire Luthor.

"I can no longer assume he holds any ill-will toward the Kingdom of Rinder, after his performance last night. He is free to remain in the service of the King. I will not stand in his way," the Captain says in reply. "I will make the announcement." Satisfied, Emma returns to her own thoughts.

The following morning, Rinder's Six is assembled in preparations for the departure for Merriam. Canter, Storm, Crayne, Cy, Hannibal, and Emma gather around six mounts, still saddened by Edryd's loss and the sobering notion that now Rinder's Six really numbers only six. Then, from the main hall, Mara, Wheeler, Pinker, and Dire approach.

Pinker is first to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen. I just want to thank you for all you've done. We would not have been freed without you. You truly are heroes." He smiles, knowing that his kind words are appreciated despite the sad looks on everyone's faces.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Canter says with a nod.

"I will not be joining on this journey," Dire then says, his low resounding voice filling the space between him and the mounted party. "But I, too, owe you my thanks. For clearing my name, for saving my life as I know it. And for granting me the chance to properly avenge the death of my friend, Sir Logan. My place is here, but I will see you again. Of that I am sure."

"You have helped us as much as we you, Dire," Crayne answers, trying his best to smile.

Wheeler then addresses the group. "Mara, here, will be joining you in your trek to Merriam. She carries messages from me to the King and to his military advisors. She knows what to do, and she reqested that she travel in your presence," Wheeler looks to Cy and Emma. "As for me. I apologize for my distrust when we first met. I am glad to have seen the famed Rinder's Six in action, and I look forward to your return to the front. The gods know we need you here."

Hopping on another horse, Mara joins the group as the gates are opened. Then a figure comes running from one of the barracks. It is Cole. "Crayne!" he calls. The mage smiles and holds out his hand. "They made me Lieutenant! Next stop, general! Good luck Rinder's Six!"

With waves and forced smiles, Rinder's Six departs the front, heading north along the road, to Merriam.

By nightfall they must stop and make camp along the road. An appropriate spot is found, and a fire lit. While sitting around, eating the evening's catch, Storm addresses the group:

"Friends, I must be findin' Guilliam befur I's do anything else. I's know we gotta get up to th' north, but I must be taking a detour ta Parton ta find the Bard." He pauses, not really sure of other words to say. He spits sloppily in good Storm fashion out the side of his mouth. "Eh...I's hope ye be joinin' me. Otherwise I's be meetin' ye in Seden." He looks a little nervous, and he looks around the scenery and

fidgets with his hands as any conversation unfolds.

1. I hope I was able to include everyone's reactions to Edryd's passing. We will indeed miss the paladin. But don't worry, as it turns out, Anthony--unlike his character--will not be leaving us.

2. Crayne, you now have Gaven's staff. Hannibal, you were able to fill your quiver with 24 sheaf arrows (in addition to the 6 flight arrows you still have). Cy, too, now has a full quiver of 24 Sheaf arrows.

3. Crayne, you have memorized Invisibility, Color Spray, and Charm Person.

4. Over the course of the days in the fort, much healing was done. Here are the latest HP statuses as per the end of this current turn:

Canter: 24/30, Crayne: 11/11, Cy: 22/??, Emma: 29/29, Hannibal: 21/21, Storm: 23/??

Those with "??" as their hp max values still owe me a die roll for their level up!

5. What are your reactions to Storm's statement? Will you allow him to go alone? Will you go with him? (The trip to Parton will delay your arrival at Merriam by at least five days, not including the time needed to locate Guilliam!) Will you attempt to convince him to stay with the party?

Will you continue on to Merriam? Sir Nigel is waiting for you there, and Mara has important documents for the King and his advisors, which should not be delayed.

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