What the hell was THAT all about?
What started out as a typical night out, turned into chaos. Not that I mind some chaos from time to time but this one has me confused.
Outside of battle conditions, no one can accuse me of being particularly aware of my surroundings. This has gotten me into—and out of—some particularly unpleasant situations throughout my life. As such, bumping into a drunken fool in a tavern was not surprising. Nor was the fact that this man ignored my apologies and started swinging. I was also unsurprised by Dancer’s need to throw insults as deftly as a talented bard might play a lute. Now, I like this watering hole. I also have no desire to end up on the wrong side of the city watch in the very town where we have established our base of operations. With this in mind, I went into protection mode. I strategically placed myself in front of the bar, deflecting thrown flagons, goblets, chairs, and even a couple of fishermen. My goal was to defend the property as much as possible. This strategy paid off twofold: we were gifted another round on the house and we avoided spending the night as guests of the local authorities. On an ordinary day, that would have been that.
Then things took a turn to the surreal. A mob of locals seemed to feel they had a right to the spoils of our adventures. Now, I’m not sure what led them to this conclusion but I certainly had no desire to fight a bunch of the locals. There is no combat challenge to that nor is there any glory to be had. Turning women into widows is not something in which I care to take part unless there is no other choice. Luckily, Dancer—in a rare moment when his mind was sharper than his tongue—quickly distracted the mob by tossing a handful of coins into the crowd. Seizing this opportunity, we quickly fled the scene.
It was at this point that the ever-watchful Third Mate, told us of a couple of people who seemed to be watching us…and perhaps even, inciting the violence. Wondering at this new development but not sure who would be interested in fighting us and why, we continued on our way.
After two altercations, and still a little intoxicated, it seemed time for some much-needed rest. While mulling over the events of the evening and trying to clear my head, I must have left my guard down. I don’t know how we managed to walk straight into an ambush but an ambush it was. From in front of us, two skilled warriors emerged—the first of whom immediately landing a solid blow to my chest. From behind, two crossbowmen stepped from the shadows—one firing a bolt into my back more painful than such an attack should have caused. To make matters worse, a spell-caster of some sort appeared seemingly from nowhere. The fight was on immediately. Taking on the fighter directly in front of me, I sprang to action. Alas, many of my swings did not strike true. My advisory, however, seemed to have no problem getting through my armor. Additionally, he seemed particularly adept and tripping me to the ground. What I first considered fun challenge to my skill soon became dire. I had a vague sense of Dancer and Third Mate weaving through the battle but they seemed to fare no better than I.
To my horror, the caster somehow transported me to another location and suddenly, I was surrounded by enemies on all sides with no sign of my companions. I took a powerful swing at the enemy closest digging deep into his shoulder before backing away from the fray. As I was retreating, however, the scene around me shifted. Suddenly I was back where the battle had started. It was then that I realized that the scene I had witnessed must have been a trick of the mind. Redthread now stood in the location of the enemy I had struck bearing the very wound I had inflicted upon my foe. The guilt washed over me as I realized I would be unlikely to set things right.
Redthread began casting his healing magic on himself as I rushed back to the warrior with whom I had been battling. I was able to get in one solid hit before he once again, knocked me on my back. Then the ground around me erupted into a pit of mud. Another visions attack came from the warrior as I attempted to rise from the mud. One of the crossbowmen made the mistake of running by me. I swung my sword deftly and felt the satisfaction of it biting into his chest as he passed.
Their entire band seemed to be attempting to flee or regroup; it was unclear which. The warrior was retreating but my blade dug deep into the crossbowman within reach. The brigand dropped to the ground at my feet. As I was preparing to advance a brilliant flask of light emitted from the caster. I dove to avoid the blast and when next I looked up, our ermines were all gone. Surveying the scene, I was appalled to see Dancer down, unconscious in a pile of acid. But once again, Redthread came to the rescue and brought Dancer back from the clutches of Death.
Licking our wounds, we ourselves regrouped. Who were these people? Why did they attack us? They seemed concerned for their companion who I had dropped so, at the very least, they were unlikely to be agents of evil. But the thought remains…what the hell was that all about?
