Blood and Honor

Dravuliel shrieked as the negative energy burned into his body—a high, thin shriek of rage. Dark fire blazed around his fist again, but before he could strike Mordan, the Karrn found himself seized by one shoulder and flung backward across the room. He struck the ground hard, rolling to dissipate the energy of the fall, and when he looked up he saw that Brey had recovered from whatever influence the necromancer had wielded over her. The slim and fragile elf bent in her arms, no match for her unnatural strength and bestial rage. Picking him up like a rag doll, she threw him to the ground with bone-crushing force, leaping after him with her fangs bared.

“Teych!” he croaked, and an instant before the vampire landed on him, he vanished.

Brey rolled to her feet with a cry of rage, looking around for any sign of her quarry. For a moment, the others stood and stared, unable to believe that their adversary had disappeared.

Mordan hurried over to Tarrel and discovered that he was still breathing. Haldin limped up to them, laid his hands on the half-elf, and began to pray. Tarrel’s eyes flickered open.

“Did we get him?” he asked weakly. Mordan shook his head.

“We won the first round,” said Haldin, “but he will certainly be back. I expect that he is currently healing himself and preparing for another confrontation. It would be wise for us to do the same.”

They found a storeroom off one side of the chamber, with only one entrance. Brey stood by the doorway, watching for fresh enemies.

Tarrel rubbed his face, which was bruised where Dravuliel had struck it. Then he fished a vial of healing potion from inside his coat and took a long drink. The color slowly returned to his skin.

“What did you do to him?” Mordan asked Dria, who had joined the group.

“I built up energy in the rod until it could do some damage,” she replied. “It’s an artificer trick. What did you do? That was more than just a punch.”

“Aberrant dragonmark.”

Brey was cursing under her breath. Haldin readied his crossbow and joined her in the doorway.

“Captain ir’Mallon,” he said, gently, “are you hurt?”

“I was helpless,” she growled. “He just—there was nothing I could do.”

Haldin smiled reassuringly.

“Please do not blame yourself,” He began. “It is in the nature …”

“Damn the nature!” Brey exploded. She swiped at a nearby crate with one fist, sending it shattering against a wall. It seemed to have been full of dirt.

“If I may suggest,” said Haldin, “engaging him from a distance will prevent him from using that power on you again.”

Emotions chased themselves across Brey’s face. “I know you’re making sense,” she said, “but there’s a part of me that just wants to tear him limb from limb—drink his blood and feel his life draining away in my hands. You have no idea what I—what he—oh, what’s the use?”

“I understand,” said the gnome, “even though I cannot imagine what you have suffered. He understands too, and I expect he will try to goad you into close combat again. It is the easiest way for him to destroy you.”

Brey began to pace, but Haldin laid a restraining hand upon her arm. She turned in surprise—it had been a long time since a living being had touched her willingly.

“He knows vampires,” the gnome said, looking earnestly into her eyes, “and if he can make you fight him like a vampire, he will win. He has made sure that you can no longer fight him as a paladin—but you still have the ranger. You still have your bow. That is where you can win.”

Brey’s eyes softened as Haldin spoke, and she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. “You’re right,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Brey unslung her bow, testing the draw on the string. She pulled out an arrow, looking at the bulb of holy water nestled behind the head.

“This won’t help if he’s not undead,” she observed.

“Perhaps not,” answered the gnome, “but an arrow is still an arrow.”

“So,” asked Tarrel from behind them, “what now?”

The half-elf looked fully recovered from Dravuliel’s spell, with just a few tears in his coat. Mordan had retrieved his rapier, and Dria had picked up a discarded sword and shield. Her homunculus perched on her shoulder, its tail coiled lightly around her neck.

“An excellent question,” Haldin replied, looking around him. The sounds of battle still came from the landing area; the opposite wall of the storage chamber bore three archways, each leading off into darkness. “Since Dravuliel escaped magically,” he observed, “we have no obvious path to follow. However, I doubt he went far.”

Mordan looked at Dria and then at her homunculus.

“How much of the place did you scout from your cell?” he asked.

“Not there,” she replied. “I was interested in finding ways out, not going in farther.”

“So you did not locate your unfortunate relative?” asked Haldin. Dria shook her head.

“Well,” said Mordan, “it looks like we could use a scout.” He cast another glance at the homunculus, which glared back at him and edged itself around behind its mistress’ head.

“I’ve got a better idea,” said Tarrel, pulling out his crystal wand.