Dungeons & Dragons - Rathion - Companions

[thevidiot]

And now for something a little different.

A Dungeons & Dragons Tale...

The Chronicles of Rathion - "Companions"

By Daniel Ratterree

This story is the tale of how two unlikely companions created a bond which became a D&D 3.5 Character by some random chance. In this D&D game the Dungeon Master asked each person to submit a "Special item" that each would roll and if success would be given at some point. This game was only meant to be a one off designed to teach those participating how to play. It turned into something much more...

My request to the DM was for a "Kitty".

As backstory on how my character Rathion who was made as a joke and modeled after Krunk from The Emperors New Groove, met his magical beast companion a Large sized Purple and white stripped cat named "Izma". Fitting right?

I hope you enjoy...

[thevidiot]

Rathion ran toward the sounds of rushing water, his hands wildly slapping at the air around him as bees followed him. He realized his mistake in sticking his hand into the hole in the tree as soon as he felt the gooey interior and of course the first sting. His friend or once friend Hunan had convinced him that there was a secret treasure hidden within the tree trunk and only someone worthy could take it. Well the joke was all around him now trying to sting him, and he ran desperately for water.

The river was boiling angry as he broke through the brush just ahead of the insect horde, he dove for the water breaching the surface to leave behind the terrible fate that lay behind him should he have stopped. He swam, badly for the other side under the rushing surface. The current was pulling at him but he knew enough to swim with the current to get where you wanted. Going against would only make you tired.

Slowly his head came above the surface of the water, in the distance he could see the inset horde above the water, waiting. It was almost as it a great eye had swung his way; it came for him. He dove and began swimming with the current downstream. He would have one heck of a walk home ahead of him but that was far better than his fate with the bees.

He wasn’t sure how far he had swum but it was a considerable distance considering how far down river he was. He walked out of the water near the Amblten Saw Mill. Something was on the air that assaulted his nose as soon as breached the surface. As he turned he could see that the Amblten estate was ablaze. Smoke billowed from the thatch roof. Rathion ran for the farm as quickly as his already tired feet would take him. Coming around the side of the barn he ran into someone and fell to the ground. “Hey!” he exclaimed as he got back to his feet.

There was a snarl from something and a rotten smell coming from the ugly creature, it was caring a rusty knife and ragged cloths. It pulled the knife out of the rope belt and stabbed at Rathion almost immediately.

Rathion knocked the knife away with a hand in order to prevent being skewered in the gut, and lashed out with a punch sending the thing reeling. It was nearly as big as he was. Only being eleven he was already tall for his size. “Hey! That’s not very nice!” he squared off as the thing brushed nasty oozing blood from its face. “You tried to stab me!”

The ugly thing rambles something unintelligible and turned and runs away from him around the barn. As Rathion walked in pursuit he quickly regrets his decision as he finds dozens of the ugly things are standing in the yard of the Amblten estate, the amblten family are all tied together in the middle of the yard where it appears that the things are assembling a fire. In a cage near the fire he spots a ball of purple fur that is pacing and trying very hard to get out of the cage. He frowns looking from ugly face to ugly face.

“Hey!” he says aloud. “Let those people go!” he points at the Amblten family. “Don’t make me have to kick all your butts!” he says in as threatening a way as an Eleven-year-old can get away with.

Several of them screech and turn pulling make shift weapons rusty and the like, pointing them his way.

Taking the opportunity, he picks up a long piece of wood that’s mostly straight and about the length of a sword in one hand and turns the knife in the other. He raises the knife as if to throw it and all the eyes are on it, he loses the knife and it wobbles through the air heading for the Amblten family all the creatures and he seem to be holding their breath as it tumbles through the air and just as its about to slam home into the rope and wood holding Mr. Amblten it nails the poor sod right in the leg buried to the hilt. He lets out a scream of pain.

“You’re a moron!” Mr. Amblten screams.

All of the ugly things begin snickering as they turn back towards the kid who just interrupted what was probably their meal.

Rathion lashes out clocking one of the ugly things right beside his head sending it spinning to the ground before he turns and runs. All of the ugly things look at the one that’s on the ground, scream and every last one of them begins chasing him around the back side of the barn. As they arrive they find that he’s given them the slip, only to see his foot go under a board into the burning barn.

Rathion thinking he’s clever runs through the burning barn and to the door and as he comes out he starts walking towards the Amblten’s only to stop, that feeling of eyes on his back was far from wrong. They hadn’t fallen for his trickery. Now he was trapped with the burning barn, the bonfire, the caged ball of fury and the ugly things. He slowly backed up holding the stick up between him and them. He swung at one as it lept toward him swinging a club, he was able to deflect it and send the poor thing flying off into the crowd. They continued backing him up towards the Ambltens, he swung at one that got too close and connected lifting it off its feet and sending it to the ground which only seemed to enrage them further, they came at him. All of them.

Rathion swung the stick wild doing everything he could to hit as many as he could until there was a loud crack as it broke, he felt it snap and jabbed it into the first thing he could and turned to run and found a cage and a pair of eyes staring back at him and a ball of ragged purple fur. He felt them hitting him in the back but he stayed with his eyes locked on those dangerous, enraged eyes.
 
He felt the piece of jagged rusted metal slip through his skin, looked down to see it protruding from his side, the pain was incredible. He cringed shoving the pain down, looked back up and met the cat’s eyes who was staring at the wound as well. Now looking back up at him, they locked eyes and Rathon saw something very different he wasn’t sure what it was but it was different.

He managed to get his hand around the binding for the cage, and smiled. “Good kitty!” he said as he fell to the ground pulling with him the blade and the cage door.

The last thing that Rathion saw as a purple blur, flying bodies and body parts. It was a smorgasbord of carnage. He smiled hoping that he had done his good deed and that his family would be proud of his honorable death. Even if he had accidentally stabbed Mr. Amblten.


Hours later…


Rathion could hear the sound of running water, maybe it was his blood still leaving his body. Oh yeah, he was next to a river. Rathion liked rivers, loved to catch fish, and swim in them. Or at least float.

[thevidiot]

He did more floating than swimming more often than not. A strange and peculiar thing, wet sandpaper suddenly went slowly across his face like someone had just dragged it across his brow.

“Wake up already!”

Rathions eyes bolted open as the sandpaper started again, and stopped abruptly, he looked down at the great big tongue that was mid lick across his cheek, those two eyes staring back at him again. “Uhh….. Hi..”

The Purple ball of fur leaned back, tongue still hanging half out of its mouth for a brief moment before pulling it back in. “Hi!”

Rathion looked around, then down at his side. The wound was mostly healed already and though he felt like he took a beating he was still alive. “You uhh… You saved me eh?”

“You saved me first.” She said with delight and a slight hint of amusement.

Rathion leaned forward off the tree and slowly stood up testing his footing. “Well, to be honest you looked like you wanted a piece of them so it only seemed fair.”

“Yes.” She stared at him almost as if she was gazing into his very soul.

“That’s creepy, you shouldn’t do that.” Rathion said.

She cocked her head sideways. “What’s creepy? Me staring into your soul?”

“Yeah…”

“So those other people were happy to be free, they said they were going to go back to your village and tell your people all about what you did.” The cat said.

“Wait…” Rathion said holding up a hand. “You’re a talking cat!”

“Your just now catching that?”

“Yup!” he took a few steps and stopped leaning heavily on the tree next to him. “Ok, yeah…. That hurts a bit.”

The purple cat stood. “How far is your village?”

“Up stream, it’s a pretty good distance. Up hill.”

“Let’s go then!” she said moving to his side.

Rathion shook his head. “Yeah, not sure I can make that walk right now.”

She shook her head and looked at the ground. “Get on!”

“Get on?”

“Yes, get on already!” she scowled at him.

Rathion slowly slipped onto the great purple cats back and had just enough time to grab ahold before the large cat bolts off nimbly racing through the trees. “Fast…. Kitty….!”

“Hey!” the large cat slowly craned her head back. “Stop calling me kitty, I’m older than you are by a great deal!” she looked ahead as she bound from rock to tree to rock as she climbed up the incline.

Rathion, leaned forward. “Sorry, you just look young, and I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t have a name that you can pronounce.” She stated flatly as she continued to run.

“No name?” Rathion blinked.

“As I said, not one a human with your level of intelligence can pronounce.” She said as she began to slow.

Rathion looked past the cats head and could see his village not far away, there was a gathering at the center of the town. “Look!” he pointed. “A hero’s welcome!”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” he asked looking down at the cat.

“I don’t think that’s what is happening. That man is angry!” she said. “Let’s get you to your people.” She stated as she bound the rest of the distance to the edge of the camp with ease. And nearly loosing Rathion in the process.

Slowly Rathion got down and moved to peer around a large tree into the town. “Your right he doesn’t look happy.” He said turning back to find the great cat was gone. He frowned a bit saddened by the Cats departure. Something else curious happened, he was getting weaker. The wound in his side began to ooze. Rathion stumbled out from behind the tree and began walking towards the gathering at the center of the village.

“You!” he heard Mr. Ambltens voice call sharply above all the other talking, everyone got quiet and turned to look right at him. Mr. Amblten’s accusing finger was like a spear. “You tried to kill me!” he screamed.

Rathion shook his head, “No, I saved you!”

“He lies; he threw a knife at me. He was in cahoots with those terrible things!” Mr. Amblten screamed. “Then he let that cat loose and it nearly killed us all. It was everything I had to get my family out of their alive!”

“No, that’s not wha…”

“Rathion, go home!” the village elder called out in a loud booming voice. “Just go home!”

“But I…”

“No!” he said again and pointed. “Go home, now!”

Rathion shook his head in disbelief and begrudgingly turned up the trail to his home. His parents, or rather his adopted ones were not going to be happy. Likely he would end back up in the orphanage back in Logmire, but at least he had the knowledge that he tried to save those ungrateful people. He did feel bad that he accidentally hit Mr. Amblten but if it had worked it would have been brilliant. He began to get sick to his stomach as he walked further from the village. It seemed to take an

[thevidiot]

eternity to reach his home but he managed. He went and laid in his bed in the loft and passed out. He didn’t hear his mother screaming at him, she was only an echo in the distance. He left a nice trail of blood all the way from the village to his bed. And now it was raining blood on the dining room table and he was oblivious to the world. All he could think about was that purple cat.


A day later…


“What do you have to say for yourself boy?” his father asked him.

“I tried to save them!”

His father smacked the dirt out of him. He reeled from the impact of the back of the man’s great big hand. “Stop lying boy!”

“I tried to save them!” he spat blood on the floor, only to get it from the other side.

“Boy, get out in the yard.” He grabbed him by his still blood stained shirt and hair and heaved him out the door of the small home and into the yard.

Rathion slowly got up, and looked around to find that several of the villagers had shown up with the village leader. He glanced around look at each and every one of them. He could see the disdain in their eyes. Some held pity. He finally stopped on their leader, their great teacher and warrior. He stood waiting and Rathion knew better than to keep him waiting.

“You know my rules?” the large man said rising to his full height.

“Yes.” Rathion said looking up at the man.

“What is my rule about doing specific techniques!”

“Don’t do a thing unless you can do that thing!”

“Is that all?”

“Consistently!”

“Can you throw a blade consistently?” he asked plucking a blade from his belt.

“No.”

“Yet you threw it anyway?” he tossed the knife up into the and let it fall back into his hand.

“I had to do something!”

“You should have run for help. It’s very likely that Mr. Amblten will lose that leg because of the condition of your chosen weapon.” He dropped the knife to the ground.

Rathion shifted his footing. “It wasn’t my choice, it’s what I had available.” He pointed at the weapon. “One of those things dropped it.”

“You were out without your weapons then?”

“I wasn’t out training!”

“What have I told you about your weapons!”

“Keep them close, always!”

“Is your excuse valid?”

“No!” Rathion looked away.

The large man began to walk around him slowly. Almost as if stalking prey. “You know as leader I must make decisions every day that strengthen our community. Make us better so that when the day comes we can protect what is ours?”

Rathion frowned. “Yes.”

“You do?” the man asked stopping and offering a quizzical look.

“Yes!”

“How so?” he began pacing again.

Rathion shifted again looking up and watching his leader and mentor pace around him. “You are our leader, and protector. You have to do what is best for the whole.”

“So you understand that what I do, I do for the greater good of the village?”

“Yes!” Rathion said watching the man as he came to a stop in front of him again.

The man stared at him for a very long time, everyone seemed to hold their breath waiting for whatever was to come next. Finally, he looked up towards where Rathions adoptive parents stood at the door to their home. “Pack his things!” he looked back down at Rathion. “I’m not a cruel man, you may stay the winter but once the frost has gone you are. For the time being you will stay at my home, you will do as I say, live how I tell you to live. Clear?”

Rathion nodded, he wasn’t sure if this was a curse or a blessing. But he could not go against anything this man said. He simply nodded.

“Get your things, go straight to my home. No stopping, no talking. If you deviate you will be punished most severly.” He looked around at the crowd. “Anyone interferes you will suffer my punishment.” Again his eyes settled on Rathion. “He is to be considered banished, though present he is a ghost. Understood!” he looked around at those gathered, all of home were nodding and began to walk away.

His adoptive mother dropped a backpack at the door, it was an old adventurers backpack, he didn’t have much in the way of things, they were all there. His father dumped his leather sparing armor and wooden sword on top of the pack. “Good riddance!” he said harshly and went back inside.
Rathion was used to this treatment, he’d lived in a couple of villages previously, he almost thought this one would be home. But he clearly was wrong, he collected the backpack and his sparing gear and took one last look at the building and started down the dirt road. It wasn’t a long walk to the leader’s home, he stopped at the porch and just sat down waiting for what his next task would be.

Rathion watched as the towns leader slowly made his way up the road. It was painful as he wasn’t sure what to expect. The man came to a stop at the base of the porch stairs. “We’ve much to discuss.” He pointed into the house.

Rathion stood and slowly made his way through the door, he’d never been in his home but heard many rumors on what was inside. Now he was finding out. As they passed into the home it was clear the man who was equal parts warrior and hunter. Furs adorned the floor covering the wooden floor, it was soft on his feet.

The elder man pushed past the ogling boy and set aside his own sack, he dropped into a chair at the dinner table and gestured for him to sit. “Come, sit!”

Rathion did what was asked of him just like he had numerous times previously listening to the lessons of his teacher. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” He said settling into the chair.

“Never the less you did!” his mentor stated flatly. “We’ve talked about this many times Rathion, it’s just not getting into that thick skull of yours. That many will likely lose his leg and oddly, your wound was dire but not extreme as it should have been. I have to ask myself why.” He eyed him for a long moment as they sat in silence.

“I don’t know how.”

“Well at least your half telling the truth.” His mentor eyed him. “Do you think I’m inept?” the man asked flatly.

“No, not in the slightest.”

“But yet you lie to me, or even half lie and you know how keen my senses are?”

Rathion shook his head. “I don’t understand!”

“You smell of a cat, a large one. But the scent is peculiar.” The older man shifted.

“Oh!” Rathion said excitedly. “Yes, the cat!” he shook his head. “I didn’t think about it.”

“Tell me about this cat?”

“It was in a cage, it was pretty big, about the size of a small horse. Powerful. They had it in a cage.”

“Who?”

Rathion shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

The elder man nodded. “Yet you freed the cat and not the people. Weren’t you afraid it would slaughter and eat them and us?”

“No!” Rathion said abruptly. “She would never!”

“How do you know?”

[thevidiot]

“I just do. I know that’s not exactly the answer you want; I just know it!”

The elder man nodded. “When the cat left you at the village, did your health dwindle and become worse?”

Rathion nodded. “I guess so, yeah.”

The elder man sat back and regarded him for some time. It seemed as if an hour had passed when he finally spoke. “Come with me!” he said as he stood rather abruptly. He moved across the room to what appeared to be a closet pulling open the wooden door. Inside was another door in the floor attached by a hinge, it was concealed as if hidden. Four buckets were next to the hole and a pick and shovel. “You will dig, fill the buckets.” He pointed to a window at the back of the house which appeared to have a chute coming through it. “Pour the dirt there. Understood?”

“Yes.” He said staring at the hole. “How deep?”

“Man and a half!” he said flatly and walked away.

Rathion stared into the hole and wondered if it would be his resting place. The dirt was moist and had already been disturbed. Picking up the shovel he began digging the hole. Filling each bucket, and dropping the soil down the slide at the back window. Perhaps this was his restitution, hard labor. Several hours had passed, the light was fading outside. The hole he had made was already deeper than his own body, now he was looking up at the board that was out of reach, and just as he was about to call for help a ladder slowly made its way down into the hole.

“Very good. Keep going!”

Rathion worked at it for about another hour when his mentor appeared at the top of the hole. He peered down with a lantern since it was now dark. The hole was now a man and a half deep and he had started to widen it and was nearly half a laying man along the houses frame.

“Alright, come out of there. Go wash up.” He said simply.

Rathion set the tools aside in a safe place, and climbed out of the hole. He had not realized how dirty he had gotten. Walking outside he grabbed the old wooden bucket and scooped water from the well reservoir. He used a rag to start toweling himself off. Getting himself as clean and presentable as he could he headed back in after dumping the bucket. He was immediately directed to a chair and a wooden bowl of steaming hot stew and a piece of bread.

“How are your hands?”

“Fine.” He said as he ate.

“When were finished her you will sleep.” He pointed to the patch of straw and furs set up in the open living room space near the hearth. “In the morning you will eat, we will go through your practice routine, then you will dig.”

Rathion nodded. “How big do you want that?”

“Take it nearly to the edge of the house frame, then we will put down thatch and brace.” The older man said. “You will do this day in and day out until otherwise instructed.”

“Understood.” Rathion said ripping a piece of bread in half and eating it.

“Hanfort!” the man said as he leaned back in his chair.

Rathion looked up at the man from across the table. “Hanfort?” he gave the man a quizzical stare.

“My name, you shall call me Hanfort!”

“I thought you didn’t permit people to call you by your name? Isn’t that against tradition?” he asked returning to his food but still fascinated by this odd turn of events.

“Indeed it is tradition. However, you live in my home, albeit for a short while. You are my guest and therefore can now my name.” the man set his bowl aside and chewed on a piece of bread. “Keep it to yourself!”

Rathion nodded, and finished his bowl of soup. “I’m sorry you had to do this.” He said looking back up at the man. “I mean, you had no choice really I know that but I’m sorry I put you in this position.”

“Your wise beyond your years and yet you still lack wisdom young Rathion. You have potential but you rush head long into everything, and I do mean everything.” He leaned forward. “Those bees. You knew they were around you could hear them, you’re not deaf. Yet you still allowed yourself to be tricked into doing something you shouldn’t.” he shook his head and leaned back in exasperation. “Not to mention the knife. What were you thinking? You weren’t, and that is the problem with you Rathion. You want to be great but you won’t take the time to learn, absorb and become great.”

Rathion looked down at the table, he knew what Hanfort was saying, it wasn’t the first time they had this conversation. He lost track of time on how many occasions that he had this conversation. “I know. I just think I’m ready.”

“No, you’re not. You have to learn discipline, control, honor.” The man studied Rathion again for a long moment. “Go get some rest, you’ll need it.”
Rathion simply nodded and headed for his spot near the hearth on the floor. He quickly fell asleep, moving so much earth was exhausting.


A month later…


Rathion stood in the cellar of Hanforts home looking about, they had made a celler than was effectively larger than the living space above ground. They had laid all the planking for it, managed to plumb water off of the well’s reservoir into barrels using chutes. Even attached a hearth to the houses chimney from there. Four distinct rooms now adorned the space, along with a large open area. One of them had been converted into a bedroom which Rathion soon found out was his own while he continued his stay.

[thevidiot]

It only took another couple of weeks for the rest of the room to take shape, it was a sparing room. Targets were set up for throwing and ranged weapons and practice dummies set up for other teaching exercises.

“Rathion, your next task is a bit more labor intensive and tedious.” The man pointed to the stacks of tanned leather piled in one of the storage rooms, and the wooden shape of a large man. Hanfort beckoned him over and shown him a piece of hard wood which had lines drawn into it. “Take the knife and cut strips of leather the lengths you see here. Do this with twenty sheets.” He handed him a knife which was clean and sharp.

Rathion spent the next couple of days trimming leather down to those lengths. It was indeed tedious as the leather was not easy to work with. He had managed to cut his hands more than once with the sharp knife. Afterwards he was given the task of cutting the rest of the leather into what would eventually be sparing armor stuffed with wool to pad them as to not result in injury when struck, well at least most of the time. He had a set that was in terrible need of repair and new stuffing. It was hand me downs from his adopted family.

The same pattern went on for easily a month, he stayed down in the cellar cutting, sewing and stuffing armor. Sleeping, eating food that had been handed down to him from Hanfort above. He was thankful for the hearth when the frost came. The ground was cold and it permeated the walls. This was a sign that his time remaining here was short.
 
“Hanfort,” Rathion sat up in his bed to find the old man sitting in the chair near the hearth. “Something wrong?”

“No, but we do need to talk.”

“Ok!”

“It won’t be but another few weeks and the frost will dwindle.”

Rathion nodded. “I know.”

“You will pack your things; I will send you off late in the day.”

“Alright.” Rathion searched for words.

“You will come back after the town has bed down, there is a hollow stump not far from here. There is a door built into the side. It will lead you back here if you wish. I will complete your training.”

“But you said…”

Hanfort nodded. “I know what I said, but your training needs to be completed for what is to come. You’re in my charge and we will finish it. You will have to stay down here. No one can know your still here.” Hanfort nodded. “You understands?”

“Yes!”

“I Do not care if the village is attacked, and this house is on fire. You stay down here. You understand?” Hanfort turned and gave him an intense stare that could tan the leather right off a live bears hide.

Rathion nodded to the man. “I give you my word!” he was almost shocked that those words came out of his own mouth.

“Don’t say if I you don’t mean it boy!” Hanfort said as he crossed the room and went up the ladder out of sight.


Two months later…


“Focus,” Hanfort said quietly in the dim light of the cellar. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Rathion said calmly.

“Good.” He pitched the orange at him, and it nailed Rathion right between the eyes and knocked the helmet back into his face just before making a thumping sound on the floor. “No, you’re not!”

Rathion used one hand to steady the heavy sword, and the other to fix the helmet. “I cannot see in this blasted thing!”

“No you can’t. That’s the point!”

“Then how are you supposed to fight?”

“You’ll figure it out.” He smiled. “Again!”

Rathion took the sword in both hands dodged to the side as another citrus missile came for him. “Hey!” He dodged again as another came. “I wasn’t ready!” the third deflected nicely off his blade but still hit him in the shoulder.

“See,” the man chuckled. “That’s a start!”

Rathion pushed the helmet off, and it clattered to the ground. “You cannot fight what you cannot see!” he insisted.

“But your head will at least be on your shoulders that much longer if you wear one of those!” he fired another citrus missile at him, this time Rathion’s blade split the thing in two showering him with citrus spray.

“True, but how do you do it!” he sliced another in half as another, and another came at him. The second one he deflected off the blade and into the ceiling.

“It takes practice; you’ll figure out how to use all your senses to fight as you’ll find you don’t always need to see your attacker to fight your attacker directly.” He shifted his weight and chucked another citrus missile and nodded in approval as his young protégé dispatched the next couple with only one hand. He was clearly becoming familiar with the sword and its weight. “Good.”

Rathion watched as the elder man left behind his basket of citrus missiles and took up a wooden practice sword and gestured for him to pick up the shield. Rathion had been practicing with it when the

[thevidiot]

opportunity was about. And judging by the look in Hanforts eyes he knew that. He came quickly and sent a few heavy swings his way which he was able to deflect off using the shield but he was put so off balance that he couldn’t swing back and retaliate.

Hanfort nearly beat the shield off his arm but Rathion had managed to continually keep the thing up and or deflect the incoming attacks, until finally he fell to the ground exhausted. Which resulted in a bit of a love tap across the backside by Hanfort. The old man nodded brushing back his hair which was wet with perspiration. “Good. That might be a good pairing for you. The shield and the sword!” he nodded regarding him.

“I like it!” Rathion said as he sat there heaving on the floor.

“We need to work on your Endurance!” Hanfort said casting aside the practice sword. “But how do we do that with you trapped down here!” he frowned.


A few months later…


Rathion woke casting off his blankets, he could hear screaming in the distance, muffled by the boards and soil but it was there, lots of it. He heard Hanfort moving above him as well, from the sound he knew that he had gone into his Armor closet and began pulling out his protective coverings. Rathion just hoped the man had the time. He stood there in the middle of their training room glancing around. He wanted to be up there helping but he made a promise. No matter how hard it was he wanted so badly to run into the town and help.

It seemed like an eternity from the time Hanfort dawned him armor and left the house empty up stairs. The screams, and cries for help continued and then everything went quiet. It was eerie. Rathion sat on his bed until finally he heard footsteps, heavy metal booted footsteps above him. A loud thud as what Rathion could only assume was a heavy breast plate hitting the floor then the loud bang and creek as the old man hit his bed.

There was no sound, and this kept Rathion up the rest of the night. He remained huddled in a corner waiting. He saw the trap door open as a shaft of light cut into the darkness. A weary man appeared coming down the ladder. He nearly fell almost missing the bottom step. He crossed the room and came to a stop at the foot of the bed. Ratihon stared at the man. He was still covered in blood, the only thing he had removed was the breast plate as Rathion suspected.

“You kept your promise!” the elder man said flatly.

Rathion only nodded.

The elder man sat down on the end of Rathion’s bed. “I didn’t think you would. I’m sorry.” The man said, his voice betraying his weakened state. “It was good you did.” He patted Rathion on the knee. “Your punishment has ended. Your welcome to stay down here or you may come back up. Your no longer confined to my home but you will continue to stay with me or if you wish you may return to the orphanage, no need to make your decision now.”

“But you said…”

“I lied.” He offered a halfhearted smile. “You had to believe that I would banish you, and that the repercussions would be great should you leave.” He shifted and stood slowly. “The town knew you were here and what I was doing. I do make decisions for the town but were not heartless. You worked, you learned, and you showed that you do have a certain level of discipline now.”

“What happened?”

“Slavers came in the night, took women, children, they tried to burn the town to the ground. Once I was able to organize myself, I gathered the warriors to me and we drove them out. Though at great cost.” He said and headed toward the ladder. “I require sleep, if you wish you may go help in the town. But arm yourself in case they return. But heed my words, do not draw your weapon unless you intend to use it.” He turned and looked back at him. “We will talk more later this evening about your future.” He slowly disappeared up the ladder leaving the opening for him.

Rathion turned and looked back at what had been his home for the last several months, it had been almost a year. He quickly scaled the ladder, and belted on the short sword sitting next to the door, and exited the house. The light stung his eyes for a moment and then cleared. He saw what had happened now. Several of the homes were scorched. There was a cart at the center of the town with bodies of the fallen as he approached he could see that most of them were people he didn’t clearly know so they must have been the aggressors. A familiar face caught his attention, and his heart sunk a bit. They were not the best parents but no one deserved to die that way, both of his adoptive parents were in the pile. He actually felt angered by this, which was surprising.

“Welcome back to the land of the light boy!” he heard a familiar voice call to him from behind and a sudden prodding with a cane told him it was Mr. Amblten.

Slowly Rathion turned and met the man. “I am sorry about what happened sir.”

“I bet you are!” the man stood there one of his legs had been removed about mid-thigh. “You cost me my leg!”

Rathion nodded looking down at where the man’s leg once was. “Yeah,” he said and looked back up at the man, then simply walked away heading back up the road to Hanfort’s house. He returned to the cellar sitting in the dark.

“Why are you sad?” a voice asked from somewhere in the dark.

Rathion blinked looking out into the dark. “I shouldn’t be!”

“No, you shouldn’t!”

Rathion shifted, laying down in his bed. “I’m just tired.” He felt something heavy next to him on the bed but didn’t care to turn to see what it was that had just landed in his bed. He didn’t care. “Go away!”

“I’m not really here!” the voice whispered to him.

[thevidiot]

Hours passed while both Rathion and Hanfort slept, and of course his mentor was up before him. He felt him shaking him and calling his name but Rathion didn’t want to wake. After a good couple of pokes from the end of a sword hilt he sprang upright in his bed. “I’m awake!”

“Of course you are!” Hanfort said flatly. “Come, get your leathers. We’re going.” The man was dressed in his armor.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he began pulling on his leather armor.

The elder man turned back and nodded. “To bring the rest of those braggarts to justice!”

“The slavers?”

“Yes Rathion, stop asking questions and do what your told!” the man said sharply just as he sprang up the ladder.

It took a bit to get the leathers on, get all the things together with their horses, and of course wait for the rest of the town folk to gather in the middle of the city. It wasn’t a large party but large enough hopefully to handle the band of thieves and Slavers.

“You cannot be serious?” someone asked as they rode up to the city center.

Hanfort shifted in his saddle. “I am!”

“You sure that’s wise?”

“Yes, he is my apprentice. He’s ready!”

A couple of those present shifted uneasy in their own saddles. They were not war horses but they would at least carry them to where they wanted to get and help to bring back any wounded. One of his adopted parents once told him that it was always easy to get to where you were adventuring too, just never as easy getting back. It was a full day’s ride before they managed to get sight of the camp. When they rode up to the camp and were greeted by the sentries they advised that they were heading to Korvan Keep, a castle ruin said to house treasure and were looking for some slaves to help haul back the spoils they were accepted with open arms. Hanfort lead the crowed and the sentry rode next to him. They spoke while everyone else remained deathly silent. As they passed through the open gates to the camp Hanfort stole a quick glance over his should and as soon as he was certain they were through he cleaved the Sentries head from his shoulders in one quick and precise motion.

No one in the camp moved for a long moment, but watches as the man’s head rolled across the camp floor. Even as Hanfort charged on his horse shock had them standing in place for an eternity and before climbing off his horse Hanfort had cleaved three more bodies.

Rathion waited, he wanted badly to draw his weapon and join but was told not too unless he was going to kill someone else. His hand was on his sword but it remained a hair trigger ready to go as he watched as the others from the party dismounted and began to meet the slavers.

In the distance clear across camp Hanfort stood amidst eight men, he expertly was fending them off but it was a stalemate. Rathion spurred his horse and rode quickly through the crowd knocking people over, he was careful enough to ensure that those he bumped were not from his village. He came to a stop at the edge of the opening his mentor stood in, and he waited. It wasn’t until he saw one of the spears actually draw blood that he reacted, his own blood seemed to boil, and he was down off his horse in a flash, his blade was in his hand. That speed in which he drew his weapon was frightening, but what came next was just as so. He came at one of the men from behind as he thrust his spear at Hanfort, he was already over extended and when the short sword popped through the man’s chest the startled look on his face spoke fathoms.

Rathion didn’t miss a beat, he quickly lept over the falling man’s body and racing toward another he turned seeing him coming but didn’t have the time to get a good block, Rathion’s sword rang off the mans and cut deeply through his sided, and Rathion continued on even before the man fell.
The third one was not a man but a woman, whom he completely caught off guard, his blade however was deflected by her armored shoulder, but even as she turned to strike back at him he stabbed for the space under her arm as she raised her weapon high to strike him from above. She quickly folded to the ground her sword landing with a splat into the mud.

Rathion began to turn towards the next and felt a sharp pain across his abdomen and his turn quickened he was staring into the eyes of another one of them, he could see the spear was extended and as the man withdrew it to go at him again Rathion could see the fresh blood on one side of the tip. As he thrust forward Rathion knocked the spear aside and swiped for the man’s hand and he immediately dropped the spear with his hand and wrist still attached. His eyes went wide suddenly and then he too fell to the ground. His mentor stood there having dispatched the man.

“Good!” he nodded and surveyed the area.

Rathion took a look around and all of them had been slain. Looking beyond their immediate area he could see that their people had routed the camp and fighting had come to an end.

“Your wounded!” he heard his mentor state. “Those leathers took the brunt, but you’ll need to clean that up and bandage it.” He said.

“Speak for yourself.” Rathion pointed to the man’s shoulder with his sword.

“Yeah!” he smiled. “Nothing that a trip to the smithy coul…….”

The sound of the crossbow bolt zipping through the air cut the rest of the man’s words out and turned them into a gurgle. Hanforts eyes grew larger in size for a moment. He grabbed the bolt which had lodged in his throat. He saluted Rathion with his sword just before falling to his knees, then face down into the muck.

Rathion’s eyes grew, he looked around and spotted the man who had just shot his mentor in the neck. The armored man was walking out of the ground and as he did he dropped the crossbow into the dirt. He drew a long sword, and pulled a shield from his back. Rathion bent down and picked up his mentors shield and sword and started walking toward the armored man. He could feel the rage growing inside of him.

“Surly your mad!”

Rathion stopped as the man’s words rang in his ears. “You killed Hanfort!”

“You’ll die too if you don’t run boy!” the man’s gravelly voice grated on Rathion’s ears.

[thevidiot]

“I will kill you!” Rathion said, anger was beginning to well up in his voice.

The man in the Armor raised his sword and shield. “You will try, and you will die boy!”

“Do the smart thing, and run. I’ll spare your lives!”

Rathion stared at the man for a long moment, considering his options. Then he charged straight for the man, shield up and his weapon ready. As the two hit, he was deflected off by the man’s shield which sent him sliding on it across the mud. In that brief exchange Rathion stood up smiling noting the bit of blood on the end of his sword.

The other man glanced at his shoulder and back at Rathion, the disbelief in his voice was palpable. “You’ll pay for that!” he said and started walking towards him.

Rathion braced his shield as the man came, and concentrated on protecting himself with the shield as his opponent unleashed an onslaught of blows against it. He nearly was skewered at least once in that fray until finally they broke free of one another. “So, when you going to give it up?” Rathion said getting himself ready for the next clash.

They came together again and it seemed for a moment that Rathion would outlast the older fighter but a sudden surge from him sent him careening through the air as their shields met when the older fighter bashed into him hard. Rathion cursed himself as he hit the ground sliding in the muck and watched the shield roll away. He had enough time to bring the sword back up and around to deflect a stab from the guy, and roll away from the next attempt, he again went careening through the air as he took another shield bash he landed hard in the muck again with the state of mind to roll away. He avoided getting skewered again. He came up, and this time he was ready using the sword to parry and then he began slashing as hard and as fast as he could, meeting the man’s shield as he pressed him into a defensive posture.

“You’ve got heart kid, I’ll give you that.” The man said bashing him again with his shield to break the rhythm.

“And you’re a murderer!”

“You came to my home and attacked me, remember!” the man said pointedly.

“You came to our village first!” Rathion spat.

The man lowered his guard for a moment, relaxing. “I see. Well I’d say that were even don’t you?” he gestured to the cages. “Take your people and go!”

Rathion considered the man, why would he just stop. He considered what he should do, what Hanfort would have done in this situation. He knew that their people would be liberated but what about this man. He had but a moment to raise his weapon when the man swung at him again this time the blade careened off his, and bounced off his shoulder sending him reeling in pain. He brought the sword back around in time to deflect another attach but the sword went skipping off into the muck leaving him standing in front of the man, no weapon.

“Looks like a bad day for you kid, you had heart.” He regarded him for a long moment. “No, you wouldn’t sell, your too rebellious. Looks like you get the honor of joining your mentor!” he raised the sword to strike and Rathion stood ready to receive it.

A loud growl caught both their attention, and what appeared to be a purple streak flew out of nowhere latching itself onto the fighter, claws dug into armor and skin and in a shower of blood the man’s head went tumbling through the air to land with a splat, leaving a purple cat standing on top of what was left of the body. “Hi!”

Rathion blinked and stared for a long moment. “HI!”

“So, this is mine!”

Rathion nodded slowly unsure as to what to do. “Okay…Yeah… yours…”

“Bye!” Grabbing what was left of the man, the Purple ball of fur picked it up and bounded out of the camp out of sight in a matter of moments.
Rathion stood there for a long moment, one of the villagers came up the muddy trail and stood there looking around at the dead bodies. “Rathion, what happened?”

Rathion pointed at the head laying a few feet away. “That bastard shot him. Big Cat killed him.”

“What?” he stared at Rathion for a long time before finally going over and heaving Hanfort over his shoulder. “Come on boy.”

The walk home was dreary as the rain began to fall again. They had rescued eight of their own people from their own village as well as about twenty more from other areas. They all came back with them, only three had chosen to run their own way. They didn’t bother making camp for the night they pressed on through it, and arrived back at their village in the early morning. Rathion didn’t bother stopping he went straight back to Hanfort’s home, and disappeared into the cellar taking the time to clean himself up using the well water then laid down to go to sleep.

“Your sad?”

Rathion sat up and looked around the room. “Who’s there!”

A young woman slowly moved out of the shadows. She regarded him for a while. She wore only a loose robe. Although her features were mostly concealed by the dark room there was something eerily beautiful about her. She couldn’t be more than a teenager by his account, maybe even a young woman but she was young. “Rena” slowly disappeared back into the darkened alcove.

“How long have you been there?” Rathion asked, still not having yet moved from his bed.

“Long enough.”

“How long is that?” there was a slight hint of panic in his voice. “Are you here to kill me?”

There was a thump on the bed next to him. “No, far from it!” her voice was a whisper in his hear. “My father asked me to come, he said I would be able to help the two of you soon. He knew his passing was coming.”

[thevidiot]

“I don’t understand.” He said not wanting to turn over to see her.

“It’s alright, rest now!”

Rathion couldn’t help it, he felt the darkness consume him as he fell off into a deep sleep the last thing he could hear was the rhythmic sound of her breathing in his ear.


Sometime later…


Rathion wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping but it sure felt like day’s, his head ached and his stomach was rumbling something fierce. His eyes fluttered open to the usual dark cellar but today something was different someone was with him. A green glow permeated the room. Rolling onto his side Rathion saw something both beautiful and frightening. The room was covered in glowing runes, a fire was burning in the middle of the room, but its flames were unnatural. No smoke, No heat, not a sound. No crackling, nothing.

“Good, your awake!” that familiar voice from the darkness spoke to him again.

“Rena?”

The young woman appeared from the same darkened room she had previously, she had what appeared to be a loaf of bread and a cup. She took a seat next to the green blaze at the center of the room. “Come and eat!” she said pointing to the slab of wood that served as a bench.

Slowly he slipped off his bed, he had been changed. He was no longer in his leathers. His cloths were clean and so he appeared to be as well. He stopped a moment to think about it, then cautiously took a seat opposite of her. “What is this?” he gestured to the flame. “How long was I out?”

“Long enough to heal.” She broke the bread and handed him half of the loaf. “Your wounds were not extensive but I also needed time to prepare.”
Rathion took a bite of the bread, it was sweet which is not something he expected. The glass which he took next was full of a similarly sweet tasting wine. “Prepare for what?”

She regarded him for a long moment. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t have told you.” She stood and paced a moment. “My father knew he was going to pass. He said he saw it coming, like a dream. So he asked me to come help you finish your training.” She stopped pacing for a moment.
“How? You don’t appear to be a warrior!” he said flatly.

“No. I choose a different path. But never-the-less I can help. Though it is dangerous and you should know that much. But it was his wish so It must be done.” She moved to one of the other rooms and he could hear her saying something, it sounded like she was chanting. After a few minutes he watched as she slowly backed out of the room, a body wrapped in wool slowly floated out of the darkness and slowly landed across from him. Rathion knew who it was, but he didn’t know why he wasn’t buried yet.

“What? Why isn’t he buried yet?” Rathion asked looking up at the young woman. “This isn’t right; he should be at rest!”

“He cannot rest until his task is done!” she said. “I am sorry for the subterfuge.”

Rathion looked down at his hands, the bread and cup had fallen and he didn’t even realize it. “What?”

“I cannot have you asleep for this next part, but it will all hopefully make sense soon!” he felt himself slowly laying down on the wooden slab. He watched as the green colored fire seemed to surge and the room grew brighter. Above ground it must have looked eerie to the townsfolk, there was no way it wasn’t lighting up the house above as well.

“Rathion?” he heard another familiar voice. His eyes ventured upward and standing or rather floating over him was the spirt of his former mentor. “I can finish your training now, but it’s not without its risks. You have to choose.”

“Choose?” his voice came out in a slur.

“To accept!”

“Yes!”

Rathion watched as the room brightened further and the image of his mentor began to change to that of a cloud and it seemed to be all around him. An intense pain spiked in his head, behind his eyes. He cried out as it grew in intensity. His entire body then felt like it was on fire. Thousands of images, voices, words, feelings, everything poured into his head. It rushed at him in a blur. He longed for death as the pain seemed to hit a peak. He felt as if he very well might explode and then the darkness came again, rushing in.


Several days later…


Rathion startled awake bolting upright, he was covered in mud, blood and who knew what else. The smell was retched which caused him to throw up. His ears felt as if they were full of cotton as sound was muffled and slowly it came back to him as well. The sound of the great river raging nearby became clear. Rathion took a long moment to try and clear his head but the overwhelming sound and smell was getting to him. Dropping the long sword which he appeared to be holding in a death grip fell from his hand as he stood. He walked straight into the river, this one was unlike the one near his home. It was warm. The land was near exactly as he remembered it near his village. But there was no village. He was certain he was at the point where the Ambleten estate stood but it was not here.

Rathion felt as if he had not eaten in days. Walking back over towards where he had awoken he found a familiar backpack, it was full of clothing, rations, and a small bit of parchment. Rathion pulled the parchment from his bag and unrolled it. There was only one note: “I’m sorry I failed you, find yourself” was written across it. He didn’t recognize the writing at all.

“Come on then!”

[thevidiot]

Rathion heard the voices of the approaching group, he immediately grabbed his bag and took up his sword, turning towards the approaching people coming from the woods. As the four men broken through the edge of the woods Rathion raised the sword in a defensive posture.

“Owie… its just a boy!” one of them called out as he moved aside to let the others onto the embankment.

“Damn!”

“Where did it go!” one of them who appeared to be a tracker knelt and started fiddling with the ground.

“Who are you!” Rathion asked.

“The drunken bear!” one of them said.

“What are you doing out here alone boy?” the one who was apparently the leader asked.

“I don’t know. I woke up here!” Rathion said.

The man regarded him for a long moment, “What are you thinking you’re going to do with that steel? It’s a bit much for you don’t you think?”

“No!” Rathion said flatly.

The man turned the handle of the short sword and offered it to him. “How about a trade?”

“NO!” Rathion said a bit more forcefully this time.

“How about I take it from you then. Teach you a lesson?” he said as he turned the blade back over.

“You’ll die trying!” Rathion stated, a grin appeared on his lips.

“He’s a cocky one Martin, I think he means business.” The tracker said looking him up and down.

“Indeed.” The man regarded him before sheathing his own weapon. “I like it!”

The tracker stood, “You can’t be serious.”

“Eh, what’s another mouth to feed. Bet he could best you.” The man whose name was clearly Martin stated. “What about it boy, join us?”

“Got nothing else better to do.” He said also sheathing his sword. He pulled out a piece of bread and began chewing it watching them fan out along the river bank looking for signs of whatever it was they were tracking.

The man clapped him on the shoulder. “Good lad, we’ll find out more about your skills with a blade later, for now give us a hand will ya. We’re looking for a bear.”

Rathion clearly saw it before anyone else did and only had a moment to react. He watched as Martin’s eyes grew large as he drew his sword swinging. The blade passed over the man’s head as he ducked away from the blade in fear. Rathion felt the blade connect and slice right through the great big bears paw clean. He followed through as the bear reared back away from them, and felt the blade bite into the bears flank, and then he brought it down on the poor creature’s neck. His motions were clear and fluid. He stood there staring at what he had just done unbelieving it himself.
The bear’s last breath came, and no one had yet to say a word. Martin stood there in both fear and disbelief for a long time before finally speaking.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“My mentor.”

“Who was that? I’d like to shake that man’s hand!” Martin said, a bit of a shake to his voice.

Rathion stood there a long moment. He couldn’t remember the name. It was gone, almost as if it was erased, just like his village. It was gone. “I don’t remember…” he said looking at the blade dripping with the bears blood. He wiped it on the fur of the animal before returning it to its scabbard.
 
“What’s your name kid?”

“Rathion!”

The man held out a flask to him after taking a drink. “Here’s to you! Welcome to the Drunken Bear.”

Rathion took the flask, the liquid smelled sweet, much like vanilla and appeared to be frothy inside the flask. He took one drink from the flask, it was the most exquisite thing he had ever tasted. He allowed the drink to linger in his mouth for a long moment before swallowing. “Thanks!” he said handing the flask back to the man.

“Keep it.” The man said with a halfhearted smile.

“What is it?” Rathion asked taking another sip.

“Cream my boy. Cream.” The man said with a smile. “Well teach ya all about it when we get back home.” He pulled out a knife and began cutting the bear open. “We only have a short while before more will come to claim the fallen beast, let’s get what we can and get back home eh boys?”

The others descended on the bear and after about an hour they had filled their bags and skinned the animal, they were on their way back to the Drunken Bear lodge.


Four years later…


“Rathion! Stop toying with him and kill him already!” Martin’s voice called out over the clash of metal.

Rathion was grinning as he circled the man opposite him. He was carrying a great axe and Rathion knew it would hurt if it hit him but he also knew that the man was not as experienced with it as he was with his blade. When the blade came he ducked under it, felt it go right over the crown of his head, might have even taken some hair with it. His blade found a home in the man’s gut having missed the armor and slide right through a spot between the breast plate and his Faulds. He watched with

[thevidiot]

satisfaction as the man fell to the ground clenching his waste, and wailing in pain. Rathion felt a certain level of satisfaction watching the man succumb to his wounds. “Next time give up!”
 
Rathion stepped over the fallen man and hit another in the back of the head with the flat of his blade as he moved past them towards the coach. That man fell to the ground unconscious behind him. Kenan gave him a mournful look as he past. “Hey, that one was mine!”

“He was about to shoot you!” Rathion said without hesitation as he came to a stop at the door to the coach. “You can come out now, we won’t hurt you!”

“Liar!” an elder man’s voice called from inside.

“If I was lying you’d be dead already.” Rathion said flatly, the lack of amusement in his voice was obvious. “This carriage of yours is about as protective as parchment!”

“Liar!” he called again.

Rathion peered through the window and could see the elder man kneeling in the center of the coach clutching a small chest. This caused him to grin. “Fine, have it your way!” he jabbed his sword through the side of the coach several times careful to avoid the man. “How about now?”

“No, I cannot!”

“Look,” Rathion grabbed the door and ripped it from its hinges. “I really don’t want to kill you, but I will.” He pointed the sword at him. “You really don’t have to die today.”

“They will kill me!” the man said trembling.

“So either way your dead?” Rathion asked flatly. “Is that it?”

“Yes.” He said clutching the chest tighter. “Have mercy and kill me now!”

“No.” Rathion said flatly.

“They will kill me and my family!” the man said, his voice trembling.

Rathion regarded the man, and gestured. “Out!” he pointed to the ground with is his sword. “Now!”

Slowly the man exited through the door Rathion had created, stumbling on his week legs then falling to his knees. “Please…”

Rathion pointed his sword at the back of the man’s neck, angled the blade.

“Rathion!” Martin called sharply, stopping him. “No!”

Rathion shrugged and then drove the blade down at an angle passing it through the man’s spine all the way to his heart. It was swift. “Mercy.” Rathion stated as the man fell to the ground.

“Rathion!” Martin yelled. “We agreed that no unnecessary death…”

“It was necessary!” Rathion said cutting him off. “They would have killed him and his family. You know that’s true. It’s not the first time we’ve heard it and seen it. The man was old, he was just protecting his family!”

“Rathion they will blame us now.”

“They blame us anyway!” Rathion said sharply back.

“Damn it Rathion!” he said again. He looked around at the others including the remaining soldiers who had surrendered.

“He’s right. Well your both right!” one of the soldiers said. Our Employer will likely have us all executed when we get back and potentially our families. They don’t tolerate failure.” His tone was nearly as mournful as the old mans. “They will blame you.”

“Yeah, the bounties likely to go up!” one of the other guards stated loudly.

“Bounty?” Martin asked.

“Yes, a bounty was put on the Drunken Bear after your third raid on our transports.”

“Great!” Martin said loudly. “Just great!”

Rathion eyed Martin. “And now they now my name!”

Martin stopped and stared at Rathion about to say something, but stopped and began pondering those words. He looked around at the others. “Kill them!” Without hesitation each of the remaining guards was executed by the rest of the gang.

“Martin, I think it’s time we considered a different line of work don’t you?” Rathion stated.

“What, like Murderers?” he scoffed. “I can stomach the highwayman thing, but now were forced to kill people. That was more than I wanted, now this.”

“Yeah…” Rathion said. “It was kind of a thing that was going to happen eventually.” Rathion picked up the chest.

“We should get out of here.” One of the others said. “This is a busy road.”

“Indeed!” Martin said. “Pack out what you can. Pile and burn the rest.”

It didn’t take long for the band of eight men to collect what was valuable and set the fire, they road in silence back to the lodge. The rest of the evening the group of men pondered what their next move should be. The ladies returned from the market, one of them dropped the wanted poster that was posted. No names were posted; it was a generic poster simply calling for the heads of any highwaymen found along the route they had been assaulting for a season.

“Hunting’s illegal now, we cannot farm this land, The Taxes are too high for us to scatter and start our own way. What are we going to do?” the one named Tristan asked finally breaking the silence that evening after dinner.

“I don’t rightly know!” Martin stated.

[thevidiot]

“We don’t have much choice but to keep doing what we’re doing.” Rathion said. “It’s that or we leave this place all together, go to another land until this dies down.”

Martin shifted in his chair, the silence was again long. “Agreed.” He simply stated. “Things are not exactly ideal. With a bounty on our heads, things are no better. But they are not directly on our heads so we can play this sma…” an arrow skipped through the open window and embedded itself into the fireplace mantel stopping them all.

“What the hell!” the one they called Clive stood abruptly then sat back down as quickly as the zip of an arrow and the soft thud ended his life in a heartbeat. It was chaos for a long moment as they scrambled for weapons and armor, each of them staying clear of the door.

Rathion lifted the dining room table and slammed it against the window blocking it from any further arrows. He hazards a glance through a small space and nearly lost his eye as an arrow hit the window jam next to his face. “Damn!”

“How many Rathion?”

“I cannot see.” He said pulling his breast plate on and began fastening it down. “You know there is more than one, but they have a marksman.
He watched as the ladies were slowly lowered into the homes small cramped cellar for safety while working on his armor.

“Come out and face your fate!” they all heard the voice.

Martin moved to the door. “We’ve women here, were getting them to safety then we can settle this like men!” he called trying to draw things out.
“You have until my patience wears thin then we burn the place to the ground!” the man called back. They scrambled to get their armor in place helping each other. Rathion was able to get his breast plate in place, Faulds and some gauntlets.

Slowly Martin let the door glide open, one of them stepped into the doorway with an aging Tower Shield and moved out, the others followed. They knew this was likely their last stand, they fanned out drawing weapons. “It would figure you would come now, just as we decided to retire.”

Out of the dark woods twice their number walked out including one bowman who simply stopped by a tree taking out a pipe and began to smoke. The leader approached ahead of the others and stopped. “Surrender or die?” he asked flatly.

“You know either way we are dead.” Martin said.

“Indeed.”

“How about we compromise so no one has to die here?” Martin regarded the man.

“How so?” the man asked.

“We leave this place, this area all together.” He asked, there was a bit of hope in his voice.

“I cannot let you all leave. Perhaps if you had something to offer?”

“We can return half of what was taken to you and your men, just let us go.”

“Half?”

“Yes, half.” Martin asked hopefully.

“Who killed the old man?”

Martin shifted uneasy. “Why does that matter?”

“Oh we want this one. He will need to come with us and answer for his crime.”

“Just him?” Martin asked.

“Half, and him. Then you may go. I will give you two days to pack and leave.” The solider stated in a half amused tone.

Rathion didn’t move. He just watched the solider for a long moment. “He’s not going to let you live Martin.” He stated turning to look at the man.
Martin met Rathions gaze. “I’m sorry Rathion but I have to try!”

Rathion simply nodded then turned back to the soldier and started to move away from the others. “I killed him. He asked for us to kill him as he said you would have anyhow. It was Mercy.”

The Solider nodded to Martin and turned towards Rathion. “You can come quietly or die here your choice young man.” He slowly and somewhat overly dramatically drew his sword.

“You’ll have to kill me before I let you take me in!” Rathion said reading his sword for combat.

“So be it.” He turned and nodded to his men who moved forward towards Martin and his people.

“But you said you’d let us go!”

“I lied!” he slowly started advancing towards Rathion.

“Bastard!” Martin charged towards the oncoming soldiers.

Rathion and the soldier stared at each other as they came into each other’s range. “What’s your name” Rathion asked.

“Sir Reginald Heath,” he bowed slightly never taking his eyes off Rathion. “Remember it well as you pass into your next life.”

“Rathion.” He too bowed his head never taking his eyes off the man. “Likewise!”

The two men clashed together. Rathion knew he was more exposed than this man, but he had speed and agility on his side as he was much lighter than he normally was when he fought. His armor was old but it was still protection and he only had a bit of what he normally wore. The two men came together with an incredible level of violence even capable for a fifteen-year-old that was Rathion. Their blades rang together in the night sky one after the other as they clashed.

[thevidiot]

Rathion felt the sting and heard the zip of an arrow that narrowly missed his neck turning but for a moment to see the archer lazily nocking another arrow. He seemed amused by the situation, not just that he missed by chance but at the fighting waging on. Rathion’s attention came back to his opponent just as his sword bounced off his breast plate. Rathion got lucky, the dent was deep and nearly through the armor. Rathion looked down at the plate then back up at the man across from him who seemed likewise surprised. “Hey!” Rathion said loudly.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to let your guard down!” the soldier grinned and raised his sword high.

Rathion snap kicked out and caught the man square in his crotch. No amount of protective plating could have prevented the man from backing away in pain. Rathion took the opportunity to pull a knife from his belt and send it like a missile toward the archer who was aiming his way. The brief flinch was enough to send the arrow into the woods and brought a grin to the archers slips as the knife embedded in the wood next to him. “Cut it out!” he said in the archer’s direction.

The soldier came charging at him his sword set to skewer Rathion who’s eyes were on the archer. Rathion used his gantlet covered hand to divert the blade with a slap and bounced the flat of his off the knight’s forehead stopping him dead in his tracks and standing him upright. Rathion punched him hard right in the nose. Blood spurted out all over his gauntlet and the knights armor as he stumbled backwards. Rathion was on top of him hitting him again in the chest then again in the nose.

The knight raised his sword to swing wildly at him but it was easily deflected by Rathion’s blade to which he hit the knight twice more. Rathion heard the bow twang over the ruckus of the battlefield and in quick thinking pulled the knight toward him by his breast plate. The arrow neatly lodged in the man’s head. If the knights ear was a bullseye it would have been perfect. The blank look on his eye spoke volumes. Rathion let him go to fall to the ground.

As Rathion turned and started walking towards the Archer he watched the archers amused expression change to panic realizing that Rathion was walking toward him. Rathion knew this man, he used to be part of the Drunken Bear. The tracker that originally found. They had taken to calling him Elda, something to do with the bow he had fashioned.

“Rathion,” the man stammered as he grew closer. He was attempting to nock an arrow. “I was just doing what I was paid to do!”

“I know.” Rathion stopped abruptly, and ran his blade through Martin’s back. The surprise on his face was oddly satisfying to Rathion. The soldier in front of him ran Martin through as well. “Good bye Martin.” Rathion said and flung the man into the soldier sending the two into a heap on the ground.
“Rathion,” he said. “I never miss!”

Rathion nodded. “I know.” He stepped up to the Elda. He hit him right on the chin sending him to the ground out cold. “You’re also a Traitor!” he stood there looking down at the man, his desire was to dispatch him right now but thought better of it. He was right he was just doing what he always did best. Got paid to do a thing.

Rathion turned back to the scene, only two of the soldiers stood, both eyeing Rathion trying to decide what to do next. “I don’t need much. Allow me to take my things and some of our coffer and the rest is yours. You never saw me. I was never here!” Rathion stated firmly.

The two men looked at each other and sheathed their weapon, and started lining up the bodies.

“Do me one thing?” he asked as he came back out of the cabin a few moments later.

“Yeah?” One of them said.

He nodded to Elda. “Pay him double!”

“Why?” one of the two asked.

Rathion smiled. “Because he did his job. And he can live the guilt of having betrayed his friends.” Rathion vanished into the darkness.


A couple years later…


“No, really guys! I can do this!” Rathion yelled, his speech blurred by hours of drink. Rathion stumbled past the crowd and towards the square arena that was essentially the middle of the bar. Down in the pit stood a Halfling who was flexing.

“Come on big man, let’s do this!” the short muscular man called from down in the pit pointing to Rathion.

“Here hold my cream!” he said nearly spilling the entire contents of a mug on the person as he vaults the distance down into the pit nearly losing his balance as he hits the floor. He regains his balance and bows to the crowd gathered.

“Alright big man, what’s this for again?” Rathion asked as the two men circled one another.

“How about for the children?” the squat man said offering a mocking smile.

“The children. Alright sounds good!” Rathion said then punched the man square in the forehead which sent him stumbling backwards.
“Moron, you hit him in the forehead!” he heard someone shout from the crowd.

Rathion looked up at the various people watching looking for the guy who said that. “Yeah!” he looked back where the Halfling should have been and realized he was no longer standing there. “I meant to do that…”

“Did you now!” he heard the voice from behind him, and very close to his hear. He fell to his knees trying to get the agile creature off his back and to stop him from pummeling his kidneys. He had the right state of mind to roll over and start slamming his back against the ground and managed to catch the little guy several times between him and the ground and despite him getting free Rathion continued the motion. Finally stopping when he got kicked in the side of the head and went rolling over to the wall.

[thevidiot]

“Hey!” Rathion quickly got to his feet, nearly spilled back to the floor when he stood upright. “That was a dirty shot!”

“It’s a bar brawl what do you expect moron!” the short man said.

Rathion took a step toward him but stopped. “Right,”

“What, now yer scared?”

“Nope.” He grinned.

“Then what? What you big oaf?”

Rathion simply pointed behind him which caused him to turn around. Nothing was there but Rathion’s foot was right up his behind and lifted him about a foot off the ground. Rathion busted out laughing and pointing as the Halfling picked himself up off the ground rubbing what he was sure was going to be a bruise of epic proportions.

“That’s funny eh?”

Rathion continued to laugh up until the point where he was kicked square in the jewels. He was almost certain they bounced all the way up to his eyes and back down the floor before coming to rest where they should have been. He gasped as he fell to the floor holding his junk. “That… wasn’t… funny…” he said.

“I win!” the Halfling proclaimed.

Rathion reached out and flicked him hard in the junk which sent him to the floor as well holding his junk. Rathion let out a halfhearted laugh. “You sure?”

“Draw?”

“Draw!” It took Rathion and the Halfling a good long moment to compose themselves. The laughing around the bar continued even as they climbed out of the pit. Rathion sat down at his customary place at the bar and the man at the bar eyed him. “Yeah, the good stuff!” Rathion tossed a coin on the bar to which the bartender took up and bit before going into the back.

“Here ya go!” the barkeep set the mug of foaming cream down in front of him. “The good stuff.”

Rathion took a good long hard pull from the mug before setting it back down. He noted the Halfling slid onto the stool next to him. “Him too!”

“I like the real thing please!” he said aloud. “You know with as drunk as you are I could have taken you!” he looked at the large man.

Rathion glanced over at him. “Ha!” he took another drink. “Maybe so.”

A heavy change purse sudden hit the bar next to Rathion with a loud jingle. It was heavy with coin, no telling how much but it was a considerable amount. He paused mid drink and slowly craned his head allowing some of the frothy liquid spill out of the mug. “That’s a lot a coin you got there.” He eyed the man.

“Fight and win against my pet and you’ll get that coin!” the man said matter-of-factly.

Rathion’s eyes were a bit larger than he would have even expected. “Really?”

“Do it Rathion!” the Halfling said, his eyes were likewise as large as grapefruits.

Rathion took a look around at the bartender, and his Halfling friend then back to the man and nodded. “Aye. What are your terms?”

“You must kill it obviously. Go as you are. You get your choice of weapon.”

“I accept your terms!” Rathion said standing and nodding. He downed the rest of cream left in the mug and walked over and disappeared into the pit. He began stretching then listened as a group of men who were in no great shape themselves brought a metal cage to the edge of the pit.

The cage door slid open and they tilted the cage. Whatever was inside they didn’t want to get loose. Rathion could hear it fighting to stay in the cage even after it was nearly ready to topple out of their hands and into the pit. A somewhat large purple ball of fur fell from it and into the pit in a heap. The crowd cheered around the pit. Rathion drew his sword and stared at the dirty mess of matted hair.

The great cat slowly got to its feet and turned around to face him and when their eyes met they both stopped. Rathion felt his guard slacken as he stared back into familiar eyes. “Hey…”

“Hey…”

“I know you!”

The cat nodded. “We’ve met before.” She said.

Rathion regarded the cat. “You were a lot cleaner back then!”

She simply nodded. “Now you mean to kill me?”

Rathion lowered the blade and scratched the back of his neck. “Eh, that was the bet.” He shrugged. “Not much sport in this!”

“I can still kill you.” She said with a low growl.

Rathion nodded. “Yeah…” he shrugged. “Yeah I could see that. But I’d really rather you didn’t!”

“Stop talking and fight!” the man who had placed the wager yelled.

Rathion’s eyebrow rose in curiosity and he slowly craned his head to look up at the man. “Hey, were working something out here. Give us a minute.” he returned his view back to the great cat who was now sitting right in front of him. “Hey… Neat trick.”

“That wasn’t a trick.” She said.

“Oh…” he scratched the back of his head again. “So ah. What are we going to do about this?”

“Well I could kill you and eat you. I’m absolutely starving, but that might be a bad thing.” She seemed to be staring into his eyes again, much like they had before. “Oh dear…”

[thevidiot]

“What?” He looked behind himself and around as if he might have something on his back. “What is it?”

“You’ve lost your way.” She said.

“I have?”

She nodded. “Yes. Such a shame really…”

“You’re going to kill me aren’t you?” Rathion took a step back.

“No.” she looked back up at the crowed and her captor. “But we have to do something. Besides you’d taste horrible with all that stuff inside you.”

“What? What stuff?” he asked.

“Never mind!”

“Alright, if you won’t fight each other. I’ll give you something to fight!” the man said from up in the stands. As he did four guys wearing full plate dropped into the pit, two on each side.

Rathion stared at the great cat for a long moment. “So… do you have the strength to fight?” The cat moved over to his side and stood there staring at the two to his right, and began growling. Her teeth were out and her brow was creased. It was all the answer Rathion needed. He turned and eyed the two who drew their swords. “Let’s rumble!” he advanced towards them and used the one to his left as a human shield and engaged him their blade clanking together in quick succession. He managed to continue pushing the his two until they were stuck in the corner. He waited until the moment that the lead guy raised his sword for a heavy downward strike and rushed him slamming into him with his shoulder and forcing the two together violently. Rathion stepped back and before he could recover he slammed them again into the corner. Rathion couldn’t help but laugh as he repeated this over and over again. Finally stepping back he plucked both their helmets from their heads. Reaching back with his sword to deliver one final blow he started his swing but felt something touch his back. Soft, wet, nudging him.

“Hey!” the cat was sitting there covered in blood.

“Yeah?” Rathion stopped lowering his blade his bloodlust halting for a moment.

“I need a favor!” she asked.

“Yeah?”

She smiled, then dove into the two guys ripping them to pieces in seconds leaving the two of them standing there covered in blood. It was as if the two bodies were put into a saw being worked by an ogre having haste casted upon them.

“Good?” Rathion asked as the cat sat on top of the mess she had just created.

“Yeah.” She smiled.

“So, about that bet.” Rathion asked.

“You wanna die?” she asked.

“Nope.” He said.

“That was fun. The most fun I’ve had in a while.”

Rathion regarded her. “Okay. How about some food?”

She nodded. “Starving.”

Rathion turned and looked up at the betting man. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline on that bet after all. And the Cats with me!”
“What?” he said with an incredulous screech. “You accepted.”

“I forfeited.” Rathion said tossing the sword aside.

“You can’t do that!” the man turned to the bar keep. “He cannot do that!”

“Yes, yes he can!”

As the man turned he came face to face with the Cat and the Rathion, and stuttered backing away. “You… you can do that.”

“Go, or she eats ya!” Rathion said, his tone was stern and undeniable.

It didn’t take long for the man to exit the building most of his servants left with smiles but only as far as the door. Rathion laughed loudly. “Yeah. He knew what was up!”

“You should have let me eat him!” the cat said.

“Well I was tempted.” Rathion moved over a few feet looking up. “Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“Over here!” he said gesturing.

Rathion knelt down. “So uh. I know that cat’s don’t usually like water, but we both need a bath!”

“No!”

“Yup!” Rathion pulled the nearby rope dousing the two of them with a large troughs worth of water. “Ha!” Rathion pointed and laughed. “Now yer clean!”

She pounced and sent him to the floor, she was standing over him her claws dug into the wood around him, her teeth bare. “Don’t… ever…. Ever…. Ever… do that again!” the great cat said through clenched teeth.

“Right.” Rathion said blinking.

“It never happened!” she said through her clenched teeth.

“Never!”

[thevidiot]

“Good, now you owe me dinner!” she walked over to the bar and looked up at the Halfling sitting there still looking like he was in shock. “Move!”

“Uh, I wa…” she reared up and batted the Halfling across the bar and lept up on the stood he once occupied and made herself comfortable.

Rathion busted out laughing pointing at the Halfling who was collecting himself. He laid there laughing for a good long moment before finally getting up and soggily sitting down on the stool. “That was great.”

“It was, wasn’t it” she sat staring at the spot on the bar in front of her, then slowly looked at him then the spot again.

“Hey bar keep.”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever the Cat wants, and I’ll take a steak!”

He eyed the cat. “What do you want?”

“Meat!”

“Cooked?”

“Don’t care!” she said flatly.

“Okay then, meat it is!” he disappeared to the back. There was some shouting from the back before he came back and presented the two of them with mugs of cream. He stopped pondering what he had just done then walked away.

“Izma!”

“Huh?” he looked at that cat. “Did you sneeze?”

“My name.” the cat said.

“Izma.” Rathion said it and nodded. “Yeah, I like it!”

“Good, because its mine!”

“Rathion!” he said.

“I know!” she shook her head.

Rathion nodded. “We make a good team you and I!”

“We do indeed.”