“Partly because, in your guard days, you were a minion, even if you didn’t know it; partly because I like reminding the other gods that I won’t be pushed around into caving on demands; and partly because I think you’re interesting. You and Thistle are both oddities in my world of followers: brave, determined, self-sacrificing. These aren’t qualities a lot of my worshippers have. I’m not so keen on giving up one of the exceptions.”
“So, it’s half desire, half just wanting to piss off the other gods?”
“More or less,” Grumble said, flashing a toothy, kobold smile.
“Good enough for me.” Eric rose from his seat and stretched, enjoying the sensation of having his left arm while he could. “I accept your divine task. For the rest of my life, I will never again willingly set foot in Solium. Any divine guidance before I go back?”
“Always tip the bartender more than you think you should, be nice to the people who know where you sleep, and beware the bush with red flowers.” Grumble raised his hands, and his scaly body began to glow.
“All right, Thistle, you’ve prayed hard enough. Time for me to give you an answer.”
Thistle was on his knees, hands clasped, mere inches from Eric’s bleeding body, when the surge of divine magic hit him. It exploded outward, too much for him to even dream of directing, pouring from his small body and soaking the entire room in a soft glow of white light. The vast majority of it fell on Eric, whose flesh began to knit together even before the blood stopped flowing. Within seconds, the light faded, leaving Thistle’s head feeling as though he’d tried to run a mile after chugging dwarven whiskey. A slight stirring occurred below him as Eric’s eyes weakly pulled themselves open.
He looked up at the gnome’s worried face and gave a smile. “Grumble says hi.”
Thistle grabbed his friend in a hug, trying to show his emotion without opening any of the freshly healed wounds.
“You’re a gods-damned madman, did you know that?”
“Oh sure, everyone else charges monsters and it’s brave; I do it once and I’m a madman.”
“Let’s all try to avoid monster charging as a general rule from here on,” Thistle said, relinquishing his grip. Across the room, Gabrielle and Grumph were pulling themselves to their feet. No one was fully healed, but at least they could move under their own power.
“That might be easier said than done,” Eric whispered to Thistle. He got up carefully, uncertain how his body would balance with his arm missing. It was actually quite effortless, as though his body hadn’t been shorted an appendage at all. A quick glance to his left explained why very quickly.
“Did my… is that my arm?” He wiggled the fingers carefully, finding each responsive. This appendage was identical to his old one, save that it lacked many of the scars he’d acquired over his years of training as a guard.
“No, that’s your arm.” Thistle pointed to a severed appendage on the ground, still clutching a short sword. “That, I’d guess, is a gift from Grumble.”
“Less of a gift than a trade,” Eric replied. “Maybe a bonus is the right way to put it.”
“Suckered you into something, aye?”
“That he did. I’ll explain everything once Grumph and Gabrielle are back up. Better to handle it all at once.”
“Just tell me it was worth it,” Thistle said.
“I think so,” Eric replied. “But I guess I won’t really know for what I hope is a long, long time.”
“One of those?”
“One of those.”
It took around a half hour to catch Grumph and Gabrielle up on what had happened after they’d passed out, then another half hour more for Eric to explain the deal he’d struck with Grumble. By the time he finished, his throat was getting a bit parched and he wondered if the mead Aldron kept had anything dangerous in it. When he was done at last, it was Grumph who spoke first.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m heading to Alcatham with The Bridge,” Eric replied. He’d set the gleaming crystal in his pack for the moment. Even though he could no longer see it, he could still feel it humming softly through his veins. “The rest of you are free to go home. If we can sneak past the guards, then no one will ever know we didn’t die in here. The king will keep sending teams of adventurers, trying to recover an artifact that isn’t there.”
“Except he will know,” Gabrielle said. “He found it with magic, he’s sure to keep checking in.”
Eric shook his head. “The Bridge only shows up to magic when it’s being actively used, the way Aldron was employing it when adventurers came. I’d bet there were plenty of times the king couldn’t sense it. Even if he does realize it’s gone, I don’t intend to keep it active, so we should be able to disappear.”
“You’re not a mage, Eric. How do you think you can control that thing?” Gabrielle asked.
“You’ll just have to trust me on this. I can’t explain it, but the artifact and I are… synced up, I suppose. It helped me during the fight.”
“Makes as much sense as anything else about that thing,” Thistle sighed. “But that still leaves the question of where we’re going, once we hit Alcatham that is.”
“Only I have to—”
“Eric, stop. Do you really think I’m going back to Maplebark?” Gabrielle touched her armor delicately, feeling the strength of the hide press back on her flesh. “I can’t be that version of myself anymore. Going to balls, minding my manners, being silent and proper… that Gabrielle is gone. I don’t know if this is who I really was supposed to be, but I like it. I’m happy like this. And I’m damn sure not going to let you wander off into unknown wilds without me watching your back.”
“Agreed,” Grumph said.
“I’m a paladin now,” Thistle reminded him. “We go where we’re needed; seems to me that helping a friend on a task for my god falls well into the job description.”
“You all don’t have to do this,” Eric protested.
“We do, actually. Gabrielle said it best: there’s no going back for us. Had you died on the floor, we’d have certainly taken a different path, but none of us would have returned to Maplebark,” Thistle said. “Each of us has said our goodbyes to the life we left somewhere along the road. Only you could have returned; that’s why Grumble made you choose. For better or worse, we’re all adventurers now.”
Eric stared in silence at his comrades. They were battered, burned, and covered in blood, yet each wanted to come with him on a path that would only lead to more. He was lucky beyond blessings the gods could give; he had found a party of true friends.
“Well then, as adventurers, our next task is clear-cut. How do we want to handle the guards?”
25.
Russell was impressed in spite of himself. When the party said they wanted to sneak out of the cave and kill off the guards, he was certain that would be the end of them (again). The stats on each guard should have proven more than enough to wound, if not kill, any given character. However, it seemed the dice were on their side. They managed to circle around and cut the throats of several guards, despite Tim’s objections, before the whole thing dissolved into a full-blown battle. When the blood settled, everyone was still standing, even if Glenn was nearly out of spells and Terry had only a few points of health left.
Russell pulled out the module book, almost certain that their efforts would have been for nothing. He was pretty sure that all the other parties in the dungeon were supposed to wipe, meaning all his players had done was murder a bunch of innocent guards only doing their jobs.
“Well?” Mitch demanded. He rolled his D20 through his fingers, anxious for more battle.
“Well what?” Russell knew damn well what Mitch was asking, but he saw no reason to make it easy on him.