Paladin the path begins

Tar’vid held the assassin’s hood by his side as he looked down at Luna, at least... she looked almost identical, though her hair was a light brown rather than the dark of Luna’s.

“Get her into the barn Karhald... please, I think I know her sister” Tar’vid asked, quickly glancing back to the inn.

Karhald didn’t hesitate, lifting the prone elf onto his shoulder with one hand and sprinting into the barn. A few moments later men and women started emerging from the inn rubbing their eyes, brandishing clubs and lanterns. Tar’vid collapsed to his knees feeling light headed as blood continued to seep down his back, cursing that he hadn’t healed himself as he pitched face first onto the ground. He lay there feeling people pick him up and carry him back into the inn, the room was getting blurry as he heard the clattering of cutlery and dishes as he was laid face first on a table, smelling stale beer and pungent cheese from between the table planks.

“Lie still lad” Tar’vid heard Morkin tell him calmly, as a leather belt was pushed into his mouth.

Tar’vid wasn’t sure what was happening until a great lance of pain shot through his shoulder, making him bite down hard on the dry leather. The pain receded momentarily until he felt liquid on his back that stung to all hells. He felt a pat on his shoulder and Morkin’s beer breath by his ear.

“You’re going to be fine now lad, the arrow wasn’t barbed and the alcohol should cancel out any poison... I hope?”

Tar’vid wanted to say that he couldn’t be poisoned, but the belt was still wedged in his mouth tightly. He rolled off the bench and stumbled, several patrons from the inn catching him and helping him stand.

“Take him to my room” he heard a voice he thought was Bruhnel’s.

Tar’vid was helped up the stairs to the Bruhnel’s room, stumbling as he ascended, the stairs seemed to go on forever. Eventually, he was placed on a soft mattress, he had never known such comfort existed.

“Try to rest my boy, it’s been a long night for you,” Bruhnel said before he heard the door close with a soft creak.

Tar’vid woke with a start, it was still dark outside, though he felt it must be coming morning soon as he could hear bustling from downstairs, the telltale chink of armour giving the mercenaries away. He got off the soft mattress slowly, not truly wanting to do so. At some point in the night, someone had re-bandaged his back and it was still painful as he stood. Picking up his shirt from the bedpost he noticed it had been sewn up from the multitude of tears and holes from the last week on the road. Tar’vid pulled the shirt on, leaving the room quickly. He couldn’t help feeling it would be some time before he would see its like again.

“You’re awake... and rather sprightly for a man that was a pin cushion last night!” said a red-haired woman, she had a nose that had clearly been broken several times, though it did detract from the pox scars on her face.

Without asking she pulled up his shirt, checking out the wound on his back meticulously.

“Not my best work I must admit, but I was drunk and it was really rather dark” she muttered un-apologetically, dropping his shirt back down and taking a step back. Tar’vid raised an eyebrow and straightened his shirt. “My thanks for your help, I’m Tar’vid,” he said, offering his hand.

The woman looked at his hand for a moment, raising an eyebrow herself.

“I don’t shake hands, but your welcome young man. This one was on the house of course, but next time it’ll cost some coin for me to stitch you up” the woman told him, walking away and sparking up a pipe she pulled from her belt pouch. Morkin appeared at the top of the staircase a moment later watching the woman leave.

“I see you’ve met Henrietta... ain’t none better with a needle or a battle axe. May not be much to look at, but boy can she go... know what I mean?” Morkin said to him as Tar’vid made to go downstairs.

“I’m afraid I do, she did save my life though and I’d rather not talk ill of her” Tar’vid replied, descending the stairs with Morkin.

“You have a strange sense of manners I have never seen before Tar’vid, you intrigue me more each day,” Morkin said with a smile.

Memories of the previous night started to return to him and Tar’vid stifled his panic, remembering the elf in the barn with Morkin’s brother.

“Where’s Karhald?” Tar’vid asked as calmly as he could muster.

“I think he’s out still. Been gone all night now I come to think of it” Morkin replied, his face puzzled.

Tar’vid left Morkin as they came to the bar area that now seemed surprisingly clean given the previous night’s activities.

“Where are you going lad?” Morkin called after him.

“I have a few things to attend to before we leave!” Tar’vid called back, heading out the inn, hearing Morkin curse under his breath loudly.

The rain was falling in great sheets now as Tar’vid ran across the yard, past the bodies of the dead elves still lying where they’d fallen. He entered the barn through the partially opened main door, taking off his shirt and wringing it dry as water pooled beside his boots. The barn was near pitch black as he looked around cautiously, looking for any sign of Karhald and the elf.

“Karhald?” he whispered into the darkness, hoping Karhald was the only one here.

Tar’vid heard a knocking coming from above him, looking up he saw the faint glow of a lantern. Finding a ladder already laid against the platform he climbed up deftly, finding Karhald sat on a hay bail, his spear pointed towards the elf. She looked at Tar’vid with such hate, such venom he knew it couldn’t be Luna. Karhald had gagged and bound her, presumably she was getting too chatty for him.

“She been giving you trouble?” Tar’vid asked, nodding in the elf’s direction.

Karhald shook his head slowly as he flashed symbols with his free hand, though Tar’vid couldn’t understand any of it. He walked over to the elf slowly, lowering himself onto his haunches and staring into the eyes of the indignant elf.

“I’m going to take off your gag now, don’t shout out or it’s going straight back on again,” he said slowly.

She continued to stare at him for a moment before nodding in acquiescence. Tar’vid removed her gag and she immediately tried to bite him, Tar’vid caught her by the throat as she glared at him, though now with fear in her eyes. Karhald laughed soundlessly, slapping his thigh. Tar’vid wondered why the mercenary hadn’t tried to stop her though. He felt a stinging in his shoulder, knowing he’d torn his stitches, he cursed pushing the woman back into the hay and onto her back.

“You could have warned me Karhald!” Tar’vid said, preparing to tie the gag back on again.

“He did you murdering human!” the elf scolded him, somehow looking down her nose at him from the ground.

Tar’vid stood over her, removing his sword belt and tossing it aside. The elf tried to wriggle away, crossing her legs in the process, Tar’vid realised what it looked like to her and he looked round, seeing disapproval on Karhald’s face.

“I’m not going to rape her Karhald, by the saints people have a low opinion of me lately!” he said, slumping down in the hay nearby.

“I would have thought even Paladin scum such as you learn the language of the deaf and mute, you really are pitiful!” she spat, seemingly having regained her hate with the threat of rape off the table.

Tar’vid dropped the rag she’d been silenced with, considering re-tying it again.

“You’re Luna’s sister then?, I thought you were her for a moment back there,” he said, tossing the rag away.

“I am the princess Fiora... and you are the murderer Tar’vid, the Paladin. You killed my Joined... the father of my child. Know that I hate you beyond mortal comprehension!” she said in a low rasp, only staying quiet at the threat of Karhald’s spear.

Tar’vid felt the man looking at him intrigued, Karhald had only known him a few days and an accusation of murderer must have been a revelation he’d not expected. Tar’vid wondered how much it would take for the spear to swing round to him.

“I did not murder him” Tar’vid said, angrily jabbing a finger towards her.

Fiora shrunk back again and Tar’vid ruffled his hair in annoyance.

“Why did you come here Fiora... you’re no trained killer, I think that much is clear to us all,” he said, looking her dead in the eyes.

“Your right, I’m no killer, but for you, I’ll make an exception. My uncle told me what you did, murderer!” Fiora replied.

“Your uncle orchestrated the whole thing, along with his son. Were it not for them I would be in Fernhaven now, far away from elven politics” Tar’vid replied, tossing aside a piece of straw he’d been playing with.

“My uncle told me you’d try to blame him should I fail to kill you,” Fiora said, fury in her eyes once more.

Tar’vid wondered why his fight with Eldrin had not been brought up yet, he had hoped letting the elf live would remove some of the urgency of capturing him.

“It matters not, just know that should you leave me alive I will never stop hunting you Tar’vid” Fiora said, calmly lying back in the hay.

“You can leave now Karhald, I’d appreciate silence on this matter if you don’t mind, no joke intended”.

Karhald stood, resting his spear on his shoulder and making a stitching movement over his lips, laughing soundlessly as he descended the ladder, leaving Tar’vid and Fiora alone.

“How do you know my sister Paladin?” she asked once Karhald was gone.

“She saved my life... on the road to Fernhaven. Then we travelled together until she returned to Keldran with your uncle”

Fiora stared down at her bonds, perhaps planning to attack him.

“You speak of her with such fondness Paladin... like you care for her” Fiora murmured, looking up at him.

“I do, though I think perhaps she feels otherwise” he replied, standing once more.

“That’s probably for the best, should she have loved you this situation would be far worse for you,” Fiora told him, the fire of hatred gone from her.

“Are you going to kill me now Paladin?... it really is the only choice you have,” Fiora asked suddenly, on the verge of tears.

“I don’t wish to, Luna would never forgive me” Tar’vid replied, turning to face her.

“You know I will never stop hunting you Tar’vid, revenge is all I have left now...”

Tar’vid drew his knife, knowing that what he was going to do would have repercussions for him. He stepped over to Fiora slowly, studying the blade, not wanting to do what was necessary. Fiora looked up at him, seemingly resigned to her fate, Tar’vid smiled at her weakly before slashing down with the knife.

Tar’vid was lost in his thoughts as the rain lashed down on him, though he paid it no mind. He wondered if he had made the right choice, all he had seen in the barn was an angry, heartbroken girl, but he had also seen a pure hatred aimed solely at him, it was too late for regrets now, he’d have to live with his choice. He ducked his head as he entered the inn once more, his clothes soaked through again.

“I see the rain hasn’t let up none,” Morkin said, his eyebrows raised at the sight of Tar’vid’s dripping form. Morkin reached behind him, unhooking a sword and tossing it to him. Tar’vid caught it, sliding the elven blade into its scabbard, glad he’d remembered to retrieve it from the hay bails. Morkin went back into the bar, Tar’vid following behind him swiftly. Inside Bruhnel had assembled his mercenaries together, his face beaming as he saw Tar’vid enter.

“Ah, Tar’vid my boy, I’d just sent Morkin here to find you, please take a seat... and a cloak before we leave. Drowned isn’t a good look for you” Bruhnel told him, indicating a bench beside the now roaring fireplace, generating a chuckle from some of the gathered sell swords.

“Now then!” Bruhnel addressed them in his usual upbeat way. “Normally I would have us all outstay the rain as I detest the wet and cold... but the winter is drawing near and I’m loathe to be caught in the snows here. Make your preparations ladies and gentlemen, I’ll meet you outside the barn within the next hour” he told them all before leaving the hall, groans filling the room with the news of an early morning march in the rain. The barkeep brought them warmed mead, hoping no doubt to calm their now foul moods. Tar’vid felt a tap on his shoulder, Diana setting down a tankard next to him.

“For last night,” she said, sitting down beside him. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you master paladin, though I could’ve sworn there was three of them attackers last night,” she said, confused as to why people were saying only two bodies lay outside.

“You were quite badly wounded, perhaps your misremembering?” Tar’vid ventured cautiously.

“Badly wounded, I should be dead. I have seen many men brought here with belly wounds, wolves and such, none lasted more than a few days” Diana whispered quietly to him.

“This is the least I can do for you,” she said, indicating the tankard.

She stood up, leaning over and kissing his cheek gently.

“I won’t forget you Tar’vid, I know you’re destined for great things... the gods must like you some,” she told him before walking away.

He picked up the tankard, drinking deeply from it. Morkin sat down beside him astonished.

“That drinks red hot lad,” he said concerned.

Tar’vid smiled, putting the tankard down and leaning on the table.

“I’m full of surprises Morkin, hot and cold are outlandish concepts to me” Tar’vid said sadly.

“You sound a little down lad” Morkin replied, offering an ear for him.

Diana’s statement about the gods had rattled him though, more than it should have. It had stirred up memories of Whitecliff, taking him back to the deaths of his friends during his childhood and finding those wounds were still unhealed, still raw in a way he had never realised. Tar’vid now lived for them in a way and he’d be damned if their sacrifices were for nothing. He muttered his prayer, healing his back and feeling surprised there was no bleeding. Tar’vid had found it easy to let go of the power this time, finding this new sense of purpose helped steady his mind.

“Just keep strong lad, once we get to Fernhaven you’ll feel more uplifted. Sea air always lifts my spirits” Morkin said with a laugh, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry lad, I forgot for a moment there,” Morkin said with a grimace, remembering the arrow wound.

“No worries, we should get ready to leave though” he replied with a wry smile.

The two of them went outside a short time later, watching on as the oxen were hitched to the waggon. At least the rain had stopped as one of Bruhnel’s men threw him a worn cloak, tying it up as the others filed out the inn. The waggon rolled out with the others following in disorder, getting ready to form a column outside the Inn. Reine pulled Tar’vid aside as he passed through the oak gates.

“I warned you, didn’t I boy!” she told him scathingly, holding him by his cloak.

“You did, but I think this was more to do with me than Bruhnel” he replied. Reine pushed him back towards the road.

“You be careful paladin you hear, there are few good men left in the world these days!” she shouted as he fell back in step with the others.

“I don’t know what it is with you?” Morkin commented, looking back towards Reine.

Tar’vid looked back at the slowly disappearing inn, wondering if he had made the right choice.

“Wish that many women paid me such mind” Morkin laughed, clapping him on the shoulder once again.

Tar’vid said nothing in reply as they made their way towards Fernhaven.