Monday, February 25, 2013

The Fall of Tom Breaver


As the eagle Defiler druid left camp, Tom was slowly making a scout around the area, making sure his group was not going to be ambushed. After telling Thorvald what he knew and what he was going to do. Tom continued to scout around, looking for more clues to what was happening in the grove. As a ranger, Tom knew that what the defilers were doing wasn’t natural, despite the argument of the birdman, as the group had taken to calling him. No, even though there is death and decay in nature, all things in nature worked to provide life, not snuff it out like this.
Tom began following the druid from a distance, far enough away the druid would have had to really spend time checking his back trail to see Tom. After about a half hour, Tom realized the direction the druid was going was close to the tracks left by the wagon, but a more direct route to the road. Tom begins to close on the druid, mostly to let him know that he was following and perhaps to see how the druid might respond. By no means had Tom decided to kill him, even though he knew it probably should have been done. But, it should have been done in the right way, quick, not as Kring had done. Kring was a hothead, and he really thought of himself, not as part of a team. Tom knew that it would take time for Kring to become part of the pack.
“There, the druid noticed him. Good. Now let’s see what happens now.” Tom thought to himself. As the druid trudged along, Tom allowed his mind to wander back to his companions, his pack. Thorvald was a good man to have. He is brave and protective and willing to learn and to teach others. A raging beast in battle, but still a thinking man…to some degree, almost the opposite of Kring, who like a bull saw only red in battle, but the bull has it’s uses. Kring and Thorvald were good additions to the group. Tom was startled to see a rabbit burst from a fallen tree and in a much practiced move, Tom fells the rabbit with an arrow. He hangs the rabbit from his belt and continues following the druid.
The druid kept looking back, looking to see if Tom was closing. Tom realized how much the loss of his eagle companion had affected the druid because of how the druid kept focusing on him. Had Tom brought someone with him, that person could have flanked the druid and he probably would not have known they were there.  Finally, the druid must have tired of watching his back trail so much and settled into a routine pace. Tom’s mind began to think about the new cleric, Khazad, his faith was tested, his faith was weathered. It would be interesting to see how the cleric grew as he experienced the world outside of the temple. Oh yes, he would change or he would not survive out here.
As the druid stopped and prepared a limb to be a staff, Tom leaned on a fallen tree and thought of his oldest companion, Draymun. Draymun had power that even he didn’t know he had. Draymun was a good man, a better dwarf and a close friend. Tom was amazed what the two of them had survived, sometimes by the skin of their teeth. Tom smiles at the thoughts.
The afternoon sun is low in the sky when the druid leaves the wagon tracks and begins to head east, Tom focuses his mind on the terrain again, realizing that wool-gathering can be dangerous in the woods and after a few minutes of looking around, Tom realizes the druid is heading toward the river. As night begins to fall the druid reaches the river and begins to make camp. After the druid gets a small fire going, Tom hails the camp. The druid looks at Tom with a weary expression and nods solemnly, pointing to a spot on the other side of the fire.
Tom sits down across the fire from the druid and begins to clean and spit the rabbit. Sitting the rabbit over the fire, Tom looks over at the druid. "So, are you wondering why I am here?"

The druid pulls some of the jerky from his sack of rations and bites off a big chunk.

"I assume you've been sent to make sure I hold to my word," he holds up his hand to show Tom the wound from Khazad's blood oath.

"I've not been sent anywhere, but the gist of your comment holds. See back there you were scared and outnumbered and oaths made in your situation might be overruled by your faith, your grief or your slighted pride. Out here..." Tom shrugs and leans down and turns the rabbit some. "I am here to make sure your oath means something, even though some of the group's oaths might not mean anything to the rest of us. And I am here to see what kind of predator you are.” Tom glances at the druid as he finishes the sentence.

The druid laughs, but it is a short chortle and there's no happiness in his eyes, "you keep company with strange fellows indeed."

He pauses.

"Stalk me as long as you wish, I am no predator."

"In nature, we are either predator or prey. But I have not come to argue theory. I've come to ask you a simple question, remember I am but a simple man." Tom smirks "The question is this. Will you return to your group? Or will you break your oath? Oh, feel free to have some rabbit."

He grins slyly, "what of vultures then, simple one? They take what is left when the prey, and the predators," he winks "are dead."

"To answer your question: your short, ugly friend charged me with traveling to the road and that is what I will do. From there I will go where the winds take me. You must realize there's no place for me in polite society, looking like I do."

"Perhaps. More importantly, will you return to your ...faith? Is that what you would call it?” Tom glances up the druid as he turns the spit again, “And perhaps we are all predator and prey?"

"Of course I will continue following the Lady Oughing, it is my nature."

"Hrm, that is disappointing. See, I suspect we are going to have to root out the cause of the blight at the druid grove. I am guessing her followers might have something to do with that?"

The druid sighs, "As I have already told you, they do. Just like a colony of ants, you and your druid friend must attack my colony, and they must defend it."

"Well, this is a problem, but you already knew that. So, let me make you a promise, first time today, even. I thought about what I might say to you when we had this conversation. And quite simply, I am not that good of speaker.” Tom’s eyes become hard as he stares at the druid, “But here is my oath. If I see you at the colony, if I see you in battle, I will find your eagle and I will kill it first. Then I will kill you. Please do not return to the colony. If you break the oath you made to the young dwarf, it will damage his already shaky faith. And he is a member of my pack. And I will die to protect my pack." With that Tom stands.

He shrugs, "I'm tired of your threats. Fight me or leave me."

He pokes the fire absently and takes another bite of jerky.

"See, no one takes my oath seriously, perhaps it is my age, perhaps my height or build." Tom sighs. "No, this is no threat it is an oath. For what it is worth, I am sad that my friend killed your friend after he surrendered. He needs to work on that. But asking the wolf to not howl is hard. I'll leave you to your journey. Your oath was made, try not to howl, do not return to your group. Safe travels." Tom nods to the druid and drops a gold coin in the dirt by the fire.
"For your journey." Tom leaves the fire and begins to head back to the wagon.
Tom spends the first 30 minutes moving stealthily through the woods, using the darkening sky to see where he is going and making sure he is not followed. Tom didn’t think the druid would do that, but it pays to be careful.
After about a mile or so, Tom stops and lights a torch, so he can move faster and hopefully get back to the wagon before the first watch ends. He will need to sleep, it’s been a long day, a log couple of days even.  About an hour and a half from the camp, Tom hears several heavy figures moving through the forest. Unfortunately, his senses are dulled by the darkness and how tired he is becoming. Almost immediately, Tom sees 3 orcs appear at the edge of his torch and hurl javelins at him. He dodges two of them, but the third bangs off his left thigh. Dropping his torch and equipping his shield, Tom prepares to do battle, knowing there is no way he can outrun these orcs.
As Tom closes in on the orc on the right side, Tom keeps his shield between him and the others, he feints high, the orc tries to counter with his arms, but Tom swings his sword down and cuts deeply into the orc’s belly. The orcs then draw Falchions and attack, but Tom is too fast and makes them miss. Tom’s defensive maneuvers make it hard for him to get a good shot in and the orc easily parries the blow.
The orcs seem to execute a feint on their next attack, Tom dodges the right hand orc’s attack, blocks the middle orc’s attack but that leaves him open to a massive blow from the left hand orc. The orc’s Falchion drives deep into Tom’s back, the only thing that saves him from a mortal wound is his chain shirt.
The right hand orc is out of position and Tom’s sword finds his mark, the orc growls fiercely and barely stays on his feet. Tom howls in victory. And as he turns to face the two other orcs, his howl is cut short by the sight of the middle orc slashing down with his Falchion, Tom is completely helpless, his shield is blocking the left hand orc’s attack and his sword is still coming through the body of the right hand orc.
Tom’s mind flashes his life before his eyes, his companion’s faces staring at him. Draymun, Kring, Thorvald and Khazad, all look at him. As the Falchion bites into Tom’s neck, Tom realizes that like Kring, he’s been too much of a lone wolf, he should have brought one of them with him. The pack is greater than the sum of its parts.  As the life drains from Tom’s eyes and he slumps to the ground, Tom realizes how much he will miss the pack….

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