"Well, I don't know what I was expecting but this isn't it." Zalthu stood in front of the village of Halloville. The town itself was covered in a purple magical barrier that pulsated with ever few seconds. Alorn said nothing as Zalthu inspected the barrier. Instead, he stood behind him leaning again a tree rubbing his feet. Zalthu waved to some people on the inside. They did not react to his waving, in fact it seemed like they didn't see him at all. Zalthu picked up a rock and threw it at the barrier. It bounced off making a loud vibrating sound. The barrier itself created a rippling motion like water across its surface. Zalthu watched as the ripple quickly moved across the barrier and disappeared. Then he said, "If nothing else… It's pretty looking."
"Pretty looking?!" Alorn yelled while still rubbing his feet. "We are an entire day's travel away from Cantiberry, standing outside of a town that clearly is not welcoming newcomers. We have no weapons, no camping gear, no horses, and it is getting darker by the second. We are stuck outside and all you can say is the barrier looks pretty? You are mad."
Ignoring him, Zalthu pulled out his kukri and stabbed the barrier several times creating more and more ripples. It seemed that the ripples were attracting the attention of the villagers inside. After a few minutes, a woman in long robes approached the barrier. She pulled out a spell book and began casting a spell. When she was done the barrier changed colors to a lighter shade of purple. Then the woman said, "The barrier will allow us to exchange conversation. Do you speak Common or Edosian?"
"Common please."
"Welcome to Halloville, the safest town in Edosa. Why are you here banging on our defensive barrier? Are you here to invade or to annoy?"
"Umm, neither." Zalthu said as he put his kukri away. "Let's try this again. Greeting I am Zalthu, this is Alorn. We travel from…" Zalthu stopped remembering that this mission was supposed to remain a secret. Then he continued, "We travel from afar seeking refuge. The lands of Edosa are a treacherous place now and days. We seek only to sleep in soft beds and drink mead in your fine taverns."
The woman seemed put off that she was diluted to this level. Then she replied, "Sorry to disappoint you but Halloville is not a tourist attraction. The Daimyo has ordered the barrier up until Edosa is in a more stable state. Maybe then you can come back for our mead. Sorry, for the inconvenience."
The woman started to undo her magic spell, but before she could Alorn stepped forward and said, "What about clothing? Look at me!" Alorn showed her the bottom of his feet. They were marred with stickers and cuts. Then he said, "If you can't provide the basic comforts, can you at least sell us some shoes and clean clothes?"
The woman stopped in her tracks and thought about it for a second. Then she replied, "Very well. Travel around the barrier to the fishing huts on the northeast side. Someone will be there to sell you the basic items you need. Does that suit you?"
Alorn thanked her profusely. Zalthu thought it was funny that a town with such advanced defensive capabilities would have a back door. When they were done the woman began casting another spell. When she was done the barrier changed colors back to its original purple color. As she turned to leave Zalthu gave Alorn a big smile and said, "I think she likes you."
"Shut up. Let's go." Alorn snorted back and he slowly walked around the barrier.
As the traversed around the huge barrier, Zalthu took notice of the large population of the village. Unlike the mage that came to the barrier, everyone else appeared to be hobos. They were all skinny, filthy, and starving. Some of them sat on the front porch of their houses. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Zalthu thought about it for a second and realized these people were killing themselves. How many people had professions that required them to leave town? A lot. Without letting anyone in or out they had to survive off the food they had in storages. Eventually, they would have to drop the barrier or starve to death.
Reaching the northeast side there was a sitting inside a large window of a house. He was only a stone's throw away from the fishing huts, but he was hard to miss. His physical body had a glow to it that Zalthu could not dismiss as normal. The sun was almost set but he appeared to glow in the dark. He clearly had some form of magic spell on him. He started by saying, "Welcome, I am Xeer. Let's make this fast. We only have a limited time. Let's make this quick quick quick." He picked up a wooden box of clothes, boots, and belts. He placed the box on the window frame so Alorn could look it over.
Wasting no time, Alorn stripped out of his muddy clothes and grabbed a shirt, pants, and belt that looked like it fit him. Zalthu wasn't focused on Alorn though, he approached Xeer and asked, "What kind of protection spell are you under? How are you glowing like that?"
Xeer touched his arm and said, "Oh this? It's nothing. The physical form you see is actually a projection. I am not really here. No need to take any chances. The real me is inside the barrier safe and sound. Everyone is so concerned about protection, you know?"
"Why? You seem to have everything under control here. Seems like a lot of extra work for no reason."
"This is true. Our ancestors used to suffer from the constant giant attacks that used to come from the north. So, they built this protective barrier to keep the giants out and our food supply in. However, giants are big and stupid. The Blood Tyrant is smart. If one person were to leave the barrier and somehow fell into the hands of the Blood Tyrant, he would torture them to get the secret. Once the cat is out of the bag… The Blood Tyrant will come here, destroy the barrier, and we kill us all."
Zalthu could see the logic in his words. "I guess that makes sense, but how are you going to prevent from starving to death?"
Xeer smiled as pointed to Alorn. Then he said, "We are desperate for income. We can send volunteers down the river to Ganzia to buy food. It's not much but it keeps our people alive and safe."
A dim light brightened in Zalthu's mind. He turned to look at the boats docked in the river, then back to Xeer. Alorn found himself a nice white Edosian style shirt, brown pants, belt, and boots. He asked, "Do you have any weapons? Sword or anything for sale?"
"Sorry, this is all we had as far as basic things for sale." Xeer pulled the box back into the window and said, "25 gold coins per items. You owe us 100 gold, please."
Alorn's jaw almost hit the floor, "100 gold?! That is crazy expensive!"
Xeer smiled, "Yes, well desperate times call for desperate measures. You needed clothes. We need the gold."
With an unhappy look, Alorn turned to Zalthu and said, "I lost all my coin in the lake. Can you cover this for me?"
This was almost more than he could tolerate. Zalthu eyed Xeer and Alorn like they were trying to scam him. All along, Alorn was expecting him to pay for the clothes, while Xeer was overcharging him. After a long silence, Zalthu pulled 20 gold from his bag and put it on the window. "10 gold for the cloths. 10 gold for the boat. Enjoy." Then he walked away.
Xeer was far more confused than Alorn was. He shouted, "That was not the deal! Come back here!"
As he walked away, Zalthu stated, "We are not paying 10 times the normal price. Take the 20 gold and shut up." Zalthu left Alorn and Xeer together.
Alorn spoke with Xeer for a moment then he ran after Zalthu. He said, "Why are you doing this? I know you are not Edosian, and you can't really understand the culture, but these people offered us trade goods when we really needed it. And you are acting like this?" It was at this point Alorn realized where Zalthu was going. Zalthu stepped into the rowboat and picked up one of the ores. Alorn just stood on the dock watching him. Then he added, "Now you are stealing from them? This is low even for you."
"I am not explaining myself to you." Zalthu started to untie the boat. Alorn stared at him with disappointment. Zalthu held the boat in place with his hand and continued, "I am not paying a marked-up prices for YOUR clothes. If you think they deserve the gold for those rags, then you can come back later and pay your bill. And yes, I am taking the boat. This river runs straight into Ganzia, and I want to get there sooner rather than later. Last chance. Are you coming or not?"
With a deep breath, Alorn stepped into the boat. He didn't feel good about leaving Xeer without the full payment, but he didn't have a choice. Zalthu pushed the boat away from the dock and let the river push them down stream. The sun was fully set now. Luckily it was a full moon, so visibility was still decent. Zalthu's excellent night vision played a role in navigation too. The river was deep and there weren't any rocks to avoid. Zalthu made some minor corrections here and there with the oars, but ultimately the ride was pretty smooth.
Alorn said nothing at all while he sat there in the boat. He was done with this whole mission. He had lost his horse, gear, and now even his pride. He was a lowly thief. Just like Zalthu.
The rowboat slowly moved down the river. After only 20 minutes of travel the river opened up wide as it reached the sea. Zalthu pulled the boat to the side of the river stopping it on a downed log. He and Alorn climbed out of the boat and pulled it up onto the shore a bit. Zalthu walked to a nearby tree and peered into the distance. Not too far away Zalthu could see lights from the nearby town. Torches, fires from homes, and smoke. This had to be Ganzia, home of the Great Blacksmith Myran. Zalthu knew very little about Myran. Alorn moved away from the boat and stood nearby. Zalthu turned to him and said, "Ganzia is close. Tell me everything you know about the target."
Alorn shrugged and said, "His name is Myran, and he is a blacksmith. That's it."
If Alorn was telling the truth, he wasn't sharing much of it. Zalthu didn't believe he was being fully honest. Maybe Alorn didn't know anything, or he just wasn't interested in being a team player anymore. Either way, Zalthu was blind on this infiltration. Not an optimal situation. Zalthu spoke out loud, "Not much to go on but, he is a blacksmith. Therefore, he spends his days at the forge. It is dark. Right now, he is probably sleeping. He could be anywhere in town. If we wait until morning, then we can just go to the forge and wait."
Without waiting for Alorn to give his input, Zalthu grabbed the branch of the nearest tree and climbed up. After a bit of climbing Zalthu was at least 10 feet up. He found a comfortable spot and leaned against the trunk. Alorn just stood there watching. He did not say or do anything. Zalthu just ignored him.
Zalthu took off his bag and hung it on a branch. He pulled out a field ration and opened one end. It was wrapped up in paper to keep it dry and clean. Valoris crawled out of the bag and watched as Zalthu discovered the hole someone chewed in the bottom of the paper. Zalthu shot her and disappointed look and said, "Why? You could have waited?"
With as much care as she could, Valoris jumped down from the bag and onto Zalthu's lap. She waited as Zalthu tore off a chunk of food and gave it to her. It was field ration, so it was nothing to brag about. Mostly dried meat and bread, but everything is tasty when you are hungry. After they had both eaten a bit, Zalthu pulled out his flask and took a drink. A little bit of alcohol in his system to help him fall asleep.
Zalthu glanced down to the base of the tree. He would have offered some food to Alorn, but he was gone. Zalthu scanned the area looking for him. Alorn was back in the rowboat. He had made camp in it. Whatever works for him, Zalthu thought.
After he was finished, Zalthu took off his belt and tied it in a loop around his arm and the closest branch. He had slept in trees enough to know you don't want to fall out of them in the middle of the night. Zalthu watched as Valoris ate her food. Then he whispered, "Alorn isn't going to be much help tonight. You want to take first watch?" Valoris nodded as she continued to eat her food. Zalthu pulled his long cloak around to cover his arms. It had been a long day and the sound of the waves on the shore was soothing. Within a few minutes he felt the weight of the day pulling him to sleep. And then he was.
Sunlight. Zalthu snapped awake to see sunlight on the horizon. For a moment he was confused at to where he was. Then he realized he was still in the tree outside Ganzia. Luckily, he had not fallen out of the tree, but his arm was asleep being tied to the branch. Valoris was asleep on his lap. So much for a keeping watch. Then again how could she have woken him up? Zalthu pet Valoris on the back and glanced down to the rowboat. It was empty. Alorn was gone.
As carefully as he could Zalthu scooped up Valoris and put her back in his bag. He collected his things and climbed down from the tree. Zalthu popped his back several times. He was not as young as he used to be. Sleeping in trees is not comfortable or enjoyable. It was safe and free. Checking the rowboat Zalthu could see Alorn's new boot prints in the mud. He must have left some time ago. Maybe he is scouting the outskirts of the town. Maybe he was warning Myran of his approaching assassination. Either was possible.
After double checking the area, Zalthu slowly worked his way over to Ganzia. There were a dozen men and women headed out of town carrying saws and axes. They were obviously woodcutters by trade, but their clothes were ripped and filthy. They looked more like slaves. Zalthu stayed out of sight as they moved toward the forest. It seemed that despite the revolution taking place in Edosa, Ganzia was still chopping wood and maintaining a semi-normal life. Interesting. Zalthu worked his way to the main streets of Ganzia. Unlike a normal town, no one was walking around here and there doing their jobs. The streets were completely empty. It was eerie to say the least.
The entire town consisted of less than 30 homes with a general store and various shops in the town center. Zalthu didn't even have to be stealthy. There was no one to hide from. He moved to the center of town and checked the general store. It was empty. Zalthu almost jumped out of his skin when he heard someone say, "You won't find anyone inside."
Instinct kicked in. Zalthu pulled his kukri and turned to the sound of the voice. Hidden in the shadows of the blacksmith shop, a man stepped out into the light. Luckily, it was Alorn. "About an hour ago, everyone got up and moved down to the Ganzia mines." Alorn pointed towards the south. Then he continued, "It would seem Myran has manipulated the entire town to supply the Blood Tyrant with weapons. All the able-bodied villagers work the anvils and forges, everyone else provides food for the workers."
Putting his kukri away, Zalthu said, "I spotted some woodcutters on the way in."
Alorn walked over to Zalthu and said, "They need wood to burn. Fire to run the forges. Myran has this whole town under his thumb. Makes me sick thinking about it."
They walked together towards the center of town. There was a huge collection of crates and boxes piled up in the town square near the city well. Zalthu used his kukri to open one of the crates. Inside was a stack of swords. He pulled on out and tossed it to Alorn. He pulled the blade from its sheath and after some inspection Alorn said, "This is his special black steel. Only Myran knows how to make it. Razor sharp too. Thanks, Myran." Alorn put the sheath on his belt but kept the sword in his hand. It would seem that Alorn finally found a replacement weapon for the ones he lost. Even though this was technically stealing, it was acceptable to him. Zalthu laughed about it in his head. Alorn pointed to the pole at the center of town. "Look there. Have you seen one of these before?"
With a quick glance, Zalthu looked at the pole. It was only 6 feet tall and had metal clasps at the top that looked like shackles. Zalthu stepped closer to it and gave it a kick. It seemed sturdy enough. Then he said, "Not really, what is it?"
Alorn pointed his new sword to the shackles and said, "When someone causes trouble, they get strapped to this pole. Depending on the punishment, it could be anything, you can get whipped, beaten, or publicly ridiculed. This pole is a tool to keep people in check. It keeps everyone honest. Every time you walk by you see it and remember not to cause trouble."
"Nice, what kind of…" Zalthu didn't get to finish his sentence. Without warning Alorn rushed Zalthu pushing him forward against the pole. Alorn threw Zalthu's left hand into the shackle and slapped it shut. Zalthu did not take this lightly. Zalthu struggled against the shackle and replied, "What are you doing?!" His words didn't slow Alorn down as he attempted to grab Zalthu's right arm too. Zalthu swung his right arm back and elbowed Alorn in the face. Alorn pulled the key out of the lock as he fell backwards. As he landed on the ground behind Zalthu, a small trickle of blood began to leak from Alorn's nose. Zalthu grunted and struggled against the restraint, but it was no uses. With his right arm he tried to free his left, but it was no use. They were designed to stop even the strongest of men. Alorn put the key in his pocket. He had no need for it anymore.
With his free arm Zalthu tried to grab Alorn but he was too far away. Instead, Zalthu pulled one of his Kukris. Alorn held his bloody nose with one hand and put his new sword to Zalthu's back. He said, "That's enough. Drop it." Zalthu could feel the sharp point of the sword in his back. Alorn could kill him at any moment. Zalthu didn't give up his weapon. After several seconds, Alorn ended the standoff as he stepped forwards and took the Kukri out of Zalthu's hand. He disarmed Zalthu and took a few steps back. "You won't be needing these." With that said, Alorn tossed Zalthu's kukris down the city well.
Alorn returned to Zalthu and took his personal and gold bag. "You sure have a lot of fight in you. Too bad you couldn't channel that energy into something good." Alorn tossed the personal bag down the well too. With an echoing splash, Alorn was sure that Zalthu was completely disarmed and harmless. He said, "No more tricks. No more games. Time to get down to business."
Zalthu stopped struggling against the shackle and replied, "Like kicking your ass?! Give me a chance!"
"No thanks, I will go take care of Myran. You just sit tight."
"Oh, shut up, maybe you could explain why you decided to stab me in the back?"
Alorn turned away form Zalthu and replied, "Oh please, don't act so innocent. You're a thief after all. We both knew this was going to happen eventually. You probably had plans to off me on the way back to Cantiberry. In the name of self-preservation, I figured I would stop you here and now. But really, I just beat you to the punch."
"You idiot! I had no intentions of betraying you!"
"Of course not. Because you're a thief and all you care about is the gold in your pocket. Right?" Alorn inspected the gold bag he had taken from Zalthu. He counted the coins and said, "We both know that when we get back the duke will pay us 400 gold for the job. Which is only 200 gold in my pocket. That won't cover the loss of my horse, armor, and weapons. This donation should help me get back on my feet. Thanks." Alorn put Zalthu's gold bag on his own belt, smile, and walked away.
Once again Zalthu struggled against the shackles with the hope of somehow freeing himself. It was a futile attempt. Zalthu turned back to Alorn and shouted, "You're a knight! Whatever happened to honor, Alorn?"
Alorn laughed as he walked away. Then he said, "It's like you said, we are mercenaries. The only thing that matters is getting the job done. Right?"
Zalthu continued to struggle against the shackle. He pulled so hard that the metal was cutting into his skin. It hurt but he wasn't going to give up. After a minute or so, Alorn was completely out of sight. Zalthu exhausted himself trying to get free. If he broke his thumb, he could slip his hand out. But he had nothing to break his hand will. All he needed was a rock, but he didn't even have that.
Soon enough, Zalthu stopped fighting. Just like Alorn, he had lost everything. Not because of a giant or a stupid mistake, Zalthu had been betrayed by the man that was supposed to guide him. It was a sickening thought. Now he had to wait here for someone to wander by. Maybe a villager would show pity on him and unlock the shackle. Or maybe he they wouldn't, and he would be stuck here a long time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zalthu saw movement. The town well had a rope running over the side. Probably attached to a bucket that dangled inside. The rope switched left, then right, then left again. It only took Zalthu a second to realize what was happening. Within a few seconds, Valoris climbed up the rope and out of the well. She was in his personal bag when it was tossed into the well. Luckily, she was smart enough to swim out of the bag and find the rope.
Valoris furiously shook the water out of her fur. If rats could have an angry look on their face, she would have been wearing one. She was completely saturated. When she was done, she looked at Zalthu. He smiled back at her and said, "Good to see you are okay, but what are we going to do now?"
With a quick slide down the rope Valoris ran over to Zalthu and examined his situation. His left hand was still shackled to the whipping pole. Zalthu tried to reach down with his right hand to pick her up, but he could not quite reach the ground. Zalthu straightened himself up and pointed toward the mines. Then he said, "Alorn has the key in his pocket. How brave are you feeling today? Do you think you can get it from him?"
Valoris glanced in the direction of the mines then she turned and ran the opposite direction. Zalthu watched as his only hope ran away. She ran around the boxes and disappeared from his view. Zalthu exhaled sharply and said, "That figures. I might do the same thing if I were in your shoes."
Once again Zalthu pulled on the shackles. He attempted to break his thumb to get free, but it was no use. He struggled until a lady and her daughter walked into the town square. They eyed Zalthu curiously but did not say anything. Zalthu played it cool and said, "Hey ladies, I know what it looks like, but I may have accidentally gotten myself stuck. Either of you know where they keep the spare key to this thing?"
The two passing women gave him a confused look then the daughter said something to her mother in Edosian. The mother responded and they continued on their way. Zalthu realized that the language barrier was going to be a bigger problem than he thought.
Once they were gone, Zalthu leaned against the pole with disguise. How had things gone downhill so quickly? He was alone and chained to a pole waiting for him emanate demise. With a flash of hopefulness, Zalthu wiped the sad image from his brain. If he could not break the shackle, he would use his half-orcish strength to rip the pole straight out of the ground. Zalthu pushed and pulled the pole trying to make it move a little, it didn't. Zalthu put both hands around the pole and attempted to lift it straight out of the ground. It moves just a bit. Zalthu put every ounce of energy he had into lifting the pole. His muscles burned and sweat started to poor down his face. Still the pole only barely moved.
Zalthu stopped for a second to catch his breath. In that moment of silence, he heard something. A small thud. He turned around to scan the area. There was no one here. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted her. It was Valoris dragging a long flat piece of metal in her mouth. Zalthu smiled as she made her way to the pole and climbed up his pant leg. She could only climb up to his knee, but that was all he needed. Zalthu took the piece of metal from her mouth and inspected it. It was just a flat piece of metal, but it was something. Zalthu used his teeth to bend a small hook at one end of the metal piece and the put it in the keyhole of the shackle.
Using the metal hook, Zalthu felt the interior of the device and found the release. With a joyous click the shackle released. Zalthu pulled his hand away, happy to be free of the damned contraption. He reached down and picked up Valoris with both hands and said, "I am keeping you around, friend."
Using the well bucket, Zalthu collected what little he could from his personal bag. He lost most of his items in the bag, but the bag itself was salvageable, and luckily his flask was empty enough to float. He had lost his weapons, food, and everything else. The one thing he did not lose was his burning desire for revenge. Alorn would suffer for this.
Zalthu followed after Alorn down to the mineshafts. Minecarts littered the area. A few villagers were walking here and there. Zalthu stayed out for sight hiding behind trees and anything that could mask his approach. Zalthu touched the tree branch as he passed. Doing so shook black soot off the leaves and onto his arm. The smithing process had created so much black smoke that it was on everything. The trees, the minecarts, even the people. Following the railway, Zalthu saw multiple villages working the forges. No sign of Alorn, but he noticed that these villagers were dirty and exhausted. It appeared that they had not seen a hot bath in weeks. Maybe more. Once the iron ore was melted into bars, they were cooled, then workers loaded them into cart and moved down the line. Zalthu knew all he had to do was follow the ore to get to the anvils. Myran would be there. Hopefully.
Zalthu climbed up the ridge and stayed low so he could follow the minecart without being seen. Up ahead the sound of hammer could be heard. The villagers that pushed the minecart eventually lead Zalthu to a clearing with at least 20 anvils surrounding a large furnace. This clearing was less than 30 some feet from the entrance of the mineshaft. It makes since, moving the forges closer to the mine means less travel time, more production. Each anvil had a villager pounding away shaping the metal swords, axes, and various other weapons. One of them had to be Myran. Zalthu scanned the villagers for a dwarf. They were a combination of human, elves, and various other races. There was only one dwarf, and she was a female. In the middle of the clearing was a dwarf in heat resistant gear and tongs. He carried a glowing hot container while pouring molten iron into molds one by one. Zalthu smiled to himself as he realized, this must be Myran. Who else could it be?
The villagers pushing the minecart stopped and unloaded the metal bars. Their movements were slow and cumbersome. They clearly had done this a few too many times. Zalthu remained hidden and watched for a moment. They had their system flushed out pretty well. Miners brought the ore up from the mine to the smelters. Woodcutters kept the fires burning as the villagers melted down the ore removing the slag and other impurities. The refined bars were brought here, reheated, and poured into molds. After cooling, the weapons and armor were pounded out on the anvils. Leather straps and buckles were attached making the armor ready for use.
As Zalthu marveled at the efficiency of their production someone caught his eye. A man in a long black robe was walking toward the anvils. He appeared casual, but he held one hand on this sheathed weapon. Zalthu could not see him very well, but he was almost sure that it was Alorn. The man in the black robe casually walked around inspecting the villagers as they hammered away on their projects. After a few minutes, he worked his way to the dwarf at the furnace. In one quick motion he grabbed the dwarf by his fire-resistant clothes and spun him around. Then Alorn pulled his sword and held it to his face. The man was startled but held onto his words. Everyone in is area stop what they were doing as Alorn shouted, "Myran of Ganzia! You have been conspiring with the enemies of Edosa and are responsible for the deaths of thousands. By the order of the King of Yarm, you have been charged with treason. What say you?"
The dwarf said nothing. He should have been horrified but his face showed no emotion. It was like he was dead inside and welcomed the sweet embrace of death. After several seconds, a voice from the mineshaft shouted, "Treason, is it?" Alorn turned to peer into the dark. As he did, a dwarf carrying a pickaxe stepped out of the mineshaft. Unlike the dwarf being held at the furnace this dwarf was bigger. Not in height but bigger in physical strength. The sweat on his arms glistened in the light as he entered the clearing. Countless hours of manual labor had gifted him with muscles that even Zalthu had rarely seen. The muscular dwarf shouted, "You are a long way from home, hero. Unhand that poor boy before you embarrass yourself further. You seek contest?" With a simple toss, he threw his pick to the side and shouted, "I am Myran of Ganzia! Your fight is with me!" He raised his arms so Alorn could see him. Myran wore only a white shirt and brown pants without boots. His whole outfit was covered in dirt from extensive mining. Zalthu noticed his bare feet. Either he was very poor or very tough.
Alorn released dwarf in his hand and turned his full attention to Myran. He pointed his sword at Myran and said, "You have enslaved the people of Ganzia for your own gain. You supply the Blood Tyrant with weapons and armor for his war party. All of which ends here and now. I offer you one chance to come peacefully. I will not ask again."
Myran let out a hearty laugh and glanced at the villagers nearby. Then he said, "Get em." With that said, the villagers dropped their smithing hammers and tool. They charged Alorn while screaming their battle cry. There were at least sixteen or seventeen of them that Zalthu could see. Alorn stood no chance against the mob. They tackled him to the ground and pulled the sword from his hand.
Once on the ground Alorn shouted, "Stop, I am here to save you! Morons!" He even translated it into Edosian to see if they would stop. His pleas fell of deaf ears. Myran had defeated him without lifting a single finger.
With a grin on his face, Myran stepped toward Alorn as he was being restrained by the villagers. He said, "You are not the first to come for me, stranger. I seem to have made some enemies in high places. But times are tough. War is hell. Everyone does what they have to. At least I take responsibility of my own war crimes. Do you?" Myran walked over to a rack and put on some heavy armor. He donned a chest plate, helmet, greaves, and gauntlets. In Zalthu's mind Alorn deserved whatever fate he was about to receive, however he moved up to a closer position. Myran finished putting he gear on as Zalthu ducked behind one of the anvils. He was only 20 feet away from them, luckily no one saw him.
"I made this armor for the day that the Blood Tyrant comes for me." Myran said as he picked up a large battle axe. Myran turned to Alorn and said, "Release him." Almost instantly the villagers let go of Alorn and stepped away from him. Then Myran said, "Come now hero. If you want me then you must defeat me in one-on-one combat!"
Zalthu noticed the nervous look in Alorn's eyes. He was still unarmed preparing to face a heavily armored opponent. Things were not looking good for him. Myran picked up Alorn's sword and tossed it to him. With two big steps, Myran raised his axe to swing. Alorn stepped away then started to run, but he soon found there was nowhere to go. The villagers cheered for Myran as they blocked Alorn's path in every direction. It quickly became a game of chase the chicken. Alorn was the chicken. Zalthu watched in amusement. As Myran moved, Zalthu could see the weak points in his armor. The helmet was perfectly seated on the chest piece, but it created a small gap when he turned his head.
Alorn dropped his sword as Myran was moving in for the kill. Before he could, Alorn fell to his knees and screamed, "Mercy!" He bowed his head and hoped Myran would spare him at the last second.
Myran stopped in his tracks. He had his axe above his head ready to strike. Then he scoffed and said, "Mercy? Really?" Myran glanced around to the villagers and their reaction. Then he asked them, "Do we have any mercy around here?" The villagers all collectively shouted in anger. When they were done, Myran gripped his axe and replied, "I guess not."
With one powerful blow Myran brought the axe down on Alorn's head. A splatter of blood flew up into the air hitting some of the villagers. Alorn's body fell to the ground twitching and spewing blood everywhere.
Shocked, Zalthu picked up a short sword that was on the anvil and rushed Myran. Some of the villagers saw him come out of his hiding spot but it was too late. Zalthu closed the gap and grabbed Myran's shoulder. Instinctively Myran turned his head to see who was behind him. That created the small gap between his helmet and chest piece. Zalthu watched it happen as if it was in slow motion, then he planted his blade in it. Zalthu stabbed Myran's neck so hard that blade only stopped when it hit bone.
The villagers pounced on Zalthu just as quickly as they had Alorn. But it was too late. Just as Myran had done to Alorn, Zalthu had struck a killing blow. The Villagers restrained Zalthu while Myran struggled to remove the blade from his neck. Some of the villagers tried to help him but it was no use. They removed his helmet tried to cover the wound, but the damage was done. With seconds Myran fell to the ground next to Alorn's body.
The crowd went silent as one of the villagers checked Myran's pulse. After a few seconds, she frowned and turned to Zalthu. With a tear welting up in her eye she said, "He is dead. You killed him. Why have you done this?"
Zalthu quickly responded, "He was a minion of the Blood Tyrant. It had to be done."
The villager pushed on Zalthu's chest and screamed, "You killed him! Monster!"
"It had to be done!" Zalthu shouted and he fought to free himself. His arms were still being restrained by the villagers. The female villager continued to strike him. Zalthu added, "He chose the wrong side. If it wasn't me then it would be someone else. They would send others. If all of them failed, then they would have sent a group of soldiers to wipe out this whole town!"
The female villager stopped. Everyone fell silent again. She wiped her eyes and said, "They wouldn't!"
"Yes, they would!" Zalthu pulled his arm free from the man on his right and continued, "Those who supply weapons for the warlords are treated as such. Each and everyone of you standing here are killers. You make weapons that kill people! Weapons that kill your own countrymen!"
The female villager took a moment to understand his words. She glanced around to the villagers then back to Myran. With a heavy heart she said, "We had no choice. When the Blood Tyrant came to our village… he would have killed us all. Myran stepped up. He promised to provide his smithing skills. Equipment in exchange for our safety. We all pitched in to help… We didn't do it for him, we did it to survive. It was the only way."
Zalthu lowered his voice as he said, "And how many other villages have suffered because of it?" The villagers slowly let go of him. Zalthu glance at each of them as he said, "How many have died because of your weapons?" None of the villagers responded. Zalthu pointed to a rack of swords and said, "Swords like that will be used to slay men, woman, and children. Innocent lives lost by the blades you sharpened. Then you dare call me a monster?!" Once again, the villagers said nothing. His words cut to the bone. Some of them lowed their heads disgusted by the thought. Once they were far enough away Zalthu realized they understood. He quickly checked his bag to make sure Valoris was okay. She squeaked at him with joy.
The female villager was the first to respond. She said, "We were doomed from the start?"
"Yes."
"What will we do now? How will we live?"
Seeing the hopelessness on their faces, Zalthu turned around pointed to north and said, "Run north. If you travel south, you will find yourself in the path of the Tyrant. If you stay here, you are dead. North is your best hope."
The villagers talked amongst themselves for a minute then one of them took off their smithing apron. Someone in the back muttered, "The gods have abandoned us." Then they started to walk away. Each of them had a mix expression of anger, sadness, and frustration. Why wouldn't they? Their whole village had dedicated themselves to the project only to see it fail like this. The villagers started to walk away back to the town. There was no reason to stay any longer.
Eventually, only Zalthu and a few villagers were left. Two males and the female that Zalthu had argued were still there. She was still crying at the turn of events. Zalthu pointed to the slow trail of villagers and said, "You should follow them. You do not want to be here for the rest." Zalthu walked over and picked up Myran's battle axe and shot them a stern look. No more words were said. They knew what was about to happen. Zalthu kicked off Myran's helmet while waited for them to leave. When they were out of sight Zalthu raised the axe and brought it down with all of his might. Myran's head rolled away.
Zalthu found a bag that the villagers were using to carry bread. He dumped the bread on the ground and put Myran's head in it. Bounty collected.