Thursday, January 23, 2020

192 - “The Rescue?” - Eddiwarth - A Tale of Heroes

Here's how you can read the story a week (two scenes) ahead of everyone else!

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Excitement and nervousness shivered through Eddiwarth’s bones, like the cold had, but this was a more welcome sensation. Thissraelle is well! And they’re here for me! He had been afraid for them and their safety. It was true that he was afraid for himself as well, but since he had become conscious and realized he wasn’t badly hurt, he had been more concerned with escaping and finding the party. Especially finding Thissraelle.

Then he had heard Karendle’s voice in his head!

He shifted and focused on eating his meager gruel, trying to hide his anticipation. He glanced over at the two guard soldiers. The tent interior was lit by a small oil lamp, showing plain cloth sides, with one scant blanket for a floor on the uneven ground.

When he had first awakened here, his mind had been hazy, and his back and muscles sore. In the original attack, they had covered his mouth with a gag infused with... something foul. It had choked him and tasted harsh, yet it was somehow familiar. Later, thinking back with a clearer head, he had recognized it.

Hopefully the mage’s bane has fully worn off by now. He took a deep breath to see if he could tell.

He had also noticed that the soldiers that held him captive now were not the same as the wood elf patrol that had originally attacked. These were high elves. The fact that Eddiwarth was part high elf hadn’t seemed to make them treat him with any additional kindness. Still, at least they hadn't killed him. Their leader was also slightly familiar. Eddiwarth had seen him, and recently, but he couldn’t place where. It was all quite confusing.

Eddiwarth finished his bowl. As he set it down, he heard voices and a bit of scrambling outside his tent. The two soldiers guarding him looked up with furrowed brows and moved for their blades.

What’s happening out there? Is that Thissraelle?

One of the guards moved to the folds of the tent opening and looked out. Through the parted cloth, Eddiwarth could hear a female voice arguing.

Karendle! They’re here!

He strained, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. The two guards mumbled to each other, one gesturing at Eddiwarth.

I’d better get ready... He took a slow, invigorating breath and let his will swell up inside him like a deep burning in his gut.

One of the guards said something to his companion, then faced Eddiwarth and raised his sword. “Who is that? You know her, don’t you?”

Eddiwarth shook his head. “Know who?”

“Don’t lie to me! What’s a dwarven wench doing in a wood elf forest?”

“Hmm.” Eddiwarth feigned confusion, laced with sarcasm. “I don’t know. What are high elves doing in a wood elf forest?”

“Quiet, you—“ The soldier took a step toward Eddiwarth, waving his sword, when the earth and tree roots below them heaved up and rolled like a cleaning maid shaking a rug. Eddiwarth flew up and flipped over, landing with a solid crunch in a tangle of elf and tent. He tried to breathe, but could only cough and wheeze. The side he’d landed on hurt, and he was dizzy with pain.

He rolled over and tried to sit up, but the pain in his side shot through him and he dropped on his back. He could hear screaming and shouting. Someone far away was yelling orders. Is that one of the elves under me? Or tree roots? Someone near was moving under the tumbled tent next to him. He slid his hand across his torso to try and soothe the stabbing pain. It felt warm, slick, and wet.

What’s this? He reached a little farther and felt something solid sticking out of him. Cold shivered through him.

Is that a bone? He wrapped his fingers around it. It was flat. And the edges were sharp.

That’s a sword! He coughed again, and the unpleasant taste of blood splattered the back of his mouth. The cough also made it hurt even more.

I’m wounded! I’m going to die, aren’t I? He gagged and choked again. His head was dizzy and confused. Die? No! I never got to tell Thissraelle!

The fallen fabric of the tent beside him jumped as the elf soldier pushed up and stood. He had an angry scowl and a sword that gleamed in the light of the now burning tent fabric behind him. He lunged forward at Eddiwarth with a growl.

By protective instinct, Eddiwarth reached out his left hand toward the elf and threw all of the burning will he had left in his bleeding guts straight at the soldier’s chest. A hot blast of exploding flames hit the man square, blowing him back. The force of his impact ripped the tent into burning ribbons and tore it from its tethers.

“Eddiwarth!”

Thissraelle!

“Eddiwarth! Are you in there?”

He felt the heavy canvas being pulled from him. It hurt as it tugged against the sword, but he could no longer react. Then hands were on him. Someone grabbed his feet and dragged him away from the flames.

“Eddiwarth!” He felt hands lifting his head. “Korr! He’s hurt! Get the sword out of him!”

Eddiwarth opened his eyes and saw Thissraelle’s terrified face, her light, white hair falling down over his forehead.

She cradled his head on her knees. “Stay with me... Stay with me...”

A sudden scraping tugged at his torso and pain ripped through his side. He gasped and felt Korr’s strength pressing down on his hurt. He coughed and gasped. Thissraelle’s eyes closed and her face and hands began to glow. Eddiwarth smiled as her healing warmth started to flow into him.

Then, it stopped. The cold wind blew snow across him and he saw panic in Thissraelle’s eyes. “I can’t do it!” She whispered. “Oh, no! I don’t have the will left.”

He gasped. He reached up and touched her hand on his cheek.

“No! Stay with me! Where’s Illariel? Stay with me!”

Then his eyes closed.



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This continues the story of the heroes in Wynne, in Twynne Rivers, in the world of The Hero's Tale, Family Friendly RPGs. Here's more info on The Hero's Tale, and family friendly RPGing. If you like this story, support us at our Patreon!
Thank you: Chet Cox, Genevieve Springer!

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