Heroes Gone Rogue

by Jason Kenyon

  Mellara led them true, and Archimegadon smiled with relief as his eyes fell upon the golden lettering of The Vildred Arms. He could now hear the clamour of voices from within, and assumed that this was what Mellara’s talented ears had picked up from far off. With the thought of a warm fireplace too much to hold off any longer, he barged past the rest of the group and stepped inside.

  It swiftly became apparent that he was not going to get a comfortable seat next to the fireplace any time soon. The tavern was crowded, and indeed Archimegadon nearly blundered into a group of people who were standing just a few paces inside the doorway. A couple of amused glances turned his way, before he was swiftly forgotten as another wet traveller on this dark night. The rest of the companions filtered in behind him, and Obdo shook himself like a dog and sprayed rainwater over everyone nearby, including Archimegadon himself.

  ‘Obdo, death would be too kind to you, sometimes,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said. ‘You know you’d do it if you weren’t so prissy.’

  ‘Prissy?’ Archimegadon repeated, rising to his full height in his rage.

  ‘I’ll go see about rooms,’ Mellara said, darting off through the crowd.

  ‘Let us find a table,’ Archimegadon said to the others. ‘Preferably near the fire, if possible.’

  ‘Anywhere in here is better than out there!’ Anjilo said.

  Archimegadon noticed a couple of people unwisely abandon their table as they went to order some fresh drinks. Before they could return, he quickly seized the opportunity to sit at the table, making sure to drench the chair as much as possible. He yanked Obdo closer and pushed him down into the chair next to him.

  ‘Sir Mage!’ Obdo said. ‘Don’t be rough with me, I’m a wounded war veteran.’

  ‘Be whatever you wish, but be sure to get that seat wet,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Nobody will bother causing a fuss to get this table back if we soak it.’

  ‘I am most glad that I had my hair cut short,’ Ithalna said, taking the seat next to Archimegadon. ‘It already feels halfway along the path to dryness.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Tharanor said, squeezing water out of his black beard. ‘I hope nobody minds all our weapons.’

  He nodded at the small collection they’d set against the wall next to their table, where Uldraxios towered over Anjilo and Neurion’s swords. Archimegadon missed having a staff that he could use to look stately, and moreover that he could strike insolent whelps with, but so long as he was pretending not to be a mage it was largely out of the question. He wondered if it would be possible to procure a walking stick that was actually a magic staff, but the odds of safely buying one without being caught out by paladins in Arenfel seemed fairly dim.

  Mellara added her short sword and bow to the collection shortly afterwards, and she took a spot at the table between Tharanor and Neurion. She twisted water out of her ponytail and then shook her hands off to either side.

  ‘Well, got us a place to stay,’ she said. ‘They’re a bit expensive here, though, so I went for one room. We’re all sharing, and some of us will be sleeping on the floor. There’s only four beds.’

  ‘Could this not have been discussed first?’ Archimegadon asked, fairly certain that he wouldn’t be considered a priority for one of the beds.

  ‘Look, I spent long enough negotiating a good deal on the one room,’ Mellara said, ‘and to be honest, I kinda feel like we need to keep our numbers high. They said that nobody else is staying here tonight – these are all locals – so it’s gonna be pretty empty from midnight on.’

  ‘Zillon won’t try anything in a town like this,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Most assassins do their business in towns and cities,’ Mellara said. ‘Supposedly Zillon killed people in Ferrina, after all. We shouldn’t relax too much.’

  As though in defiance of this recommendation, they ordered in drinks and food afterwards, and soon everyone was talking about light matters, with thoughts of the Shield’s plans far distant. Even Ithalna joined in, and Mellara seemed to forget herself, as she started joking back and forth with the Cleric, sharing tales of the Fallen Blade’s activities in Ferrina from the old days. Ithalna seemed quite fascinated to hear about it all, though Archimegadon suspected that Mellara was slightly overplaying her own role in the scuffles between Ferrina’s rival gangs.

  Anjilo and Neurion settled, as usual, on the Light, and discussed their interpretations of their service to it. Where Neurion’s faith had come from being raised by a pious household, Anjilo had come across her affinity quite by accident. Bored with her task one day clearing out rats from a tavern cellar, Anjilo had called on the Light in jest, only to bring the wrath of the divine power down upon a lowly rat, both obliterating the creature and conveniently clearing much of the mess in one strike.

  Tharanor was stuck between Mellara and Ithalna’s conversation, and he looked over at Archimegadon helplessly. He also threw several sour looks as well, when Mellara touched on some of her gang’s more outright crimes conducted during Tharanor’s time in the Watch. Obdo seemed content to listen in on both stories, which was unusual as he was often the one to regale the party with his own tales.

  Archimegadon was just taking a swig of cider when Ithalna grasped his arm and nearly made him choke.

  ‘Ardon,’ she said, and her grip tightened.

  ‘What the..?’

  ‘It is him,’ Ithalna said. Her eyes flicked about the room. ‘He is here.’

  Archimegadon looked around the room, but he could only see groups of townsfolk talking and drinking. His eyes trailed upwards to the rafters, but they were glowing in the fire and candlelight, and while there were many flickering shadows, none were of the masked hunter Zillon.

  ‘Where?’ he asked.

  ‘I do not know,’ Ithalna replied.

  ‘Is it like back at that forest, and by the lake?’ Mellara asked.

  Archimegadon didn’t feel that this narrowed things down much, given that they’d spent most of the past week around such locations.

  ‘It is precisely like those times,’ Ithalna replied. She was still grasping Archimegadon’s arm, and it was becoming quite painful. ‘He wants me to know he is there – he does it deliberately.’

  ‘What do we do?’ Tharanor asked.

  ‘Let’s not panic,’ Mellara replied. ‘Anyone see anything unusual around? Shadows, people, anything at all?’

  The others murmured denials, but then it was so crowded that Archimegadon could not really see enough of the room to judge. Mellara set down her cutlery and retrieved her weapons, and after another moment’s consideration she tossed the room key at Anjilo.

  ‘Screw it, I’m going to go find him,’ she said. ‘Stay there and don’t do anything silly.’

  ‘Whoa, no way,’ Anjilo said. ‘You can’t just run off outside like that!’ She noticed a few nearby people glance her way. ‘You’ll… get really wet.’

  Mellara’s eyes flashed. ‘He’s not the only hunter here. I’ll show him how it’s done.’

  Before the others could raise more complaints, Mellara dissolved into the crowd, leaving the other six to stare between each other in confusion. Archimegadon nearly caught Neurion’s eye, before remembering that he was supposed to be annoyed with him. He then recalled Ithalna’s hand, and shook his arm.

  ‘Ithalna, madam, if you please,’ he said, only to knock his cider and nearly spill it.

  This just seemed to make things worse. Ithalna’s eyes boggled, and then she yanked Archimegadon closer.

  ‘Oh Light, the drinks!’ she said. ‘The food! What if he poisoned it?’

  Archimegadon felt a stab of fear and looked around at their half-finished meals. If there was poison in their shares, then not one of them would have avoided a dose of it. Tharanor snorted, jerking Archimegadon from his fearful thoughts.

  ‘Don’t be taken in by it,’ Tharanor said. ‘She’s just going to try to get you to take off the shackle on the pretence that
she can use her magic to check or something.’

  ‘It is not an act,’ Ithalna said. ‘I am afraid, Tharanor.’

  Despite his cynicism, Archimegadon felt that Ithalna was actually being genuine, for once. His hand moved towards the pocket where he had stowed his key, before shaking his head.

  ‘Ah, milady Anjilo, perhaps you can check with your, erm, Light powers?’ Archimegadon asked.

  ‘Yeah, I can,’ Anjilo replied. ‘Gonna look a bit odd if anyone notices, though.’

  ‘Just be as discreet as you can,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re not the paladin here,’ Obdo said.

  Anjilo muttered some words and closed her eyes, her hand hovering over her roast chicken, while the rest of them shifted all their plates and glasses over to Anjilo’s place. As the others all watched in trepidation, a faint light aura came to life around Anjilo’s hand, and it grew to encompass the food and drinks entire, pulsing like a heartbeat. After seemingly several minutes, Anjilo lifted her hand away, and let out a long breath.

  ‘I think we’re okay,’ she said. ‘I’m not making any promises, but there’s no poison there that I can recognise.’

  ‘Perhaps we should go and look for Mellara now,’ Obdo said.

  ‘A bit late for that, I’d say,’ Tharanor said.

  ‘Think she’ll be alright?’ Anjilo asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ Tharanor replied. ‘She’s experienced, at least, but with her injury, and her stubbornness, I don’t know that she’s in the right state to tackle Zillon alone.’

  ‘Probably wouldn’t be smart for us all to go splitting up either,’ Obdo said.

  ‘Don’t like leaving her out there,’ Anjilo said.

  ‘What do you think we should do?’ Archimegadon asked, looking between Tharanor and Anjilo.

  ‘Staying here’s our best bet,’ Anjilo replied. ‘We’re surrounded by people. Zillon might be playing with dark magic, but he’s not collecting any bounties if he kills anyone here. Let’s just stay here and wait it out, okay?’

  Archimegadon did not feel okay in the slightest, but after Mellara’s reckless display of would-be bravery he was not about to show his own fear. The group had earned a few confused looks after Anjilo’s spell-casting, but fortunately the reputation of the Paladin Order appeared to dissuade anyone from questioning or otherwise interfering with them. It was not a comfortable wait, as none of the party was talkative any longer, with all of them keeping an eye out for any possible signs of the shadow hunter.

  After what Mellara had said about assassins, Archimegadon wasn’t quite sure if Zillon would simply choose not to bother them just because they were in a crowded pub. After all, he now recalled tales of the assassin Akarith, who had been famous for stabbing targets to death while others swore she’d been talking with them in the same room, a fair distance from the murder. Given the unusual displays of power Zillon had shown in Anjilo’s workshop, it was quite possible that the same could happen here and now.

  Even the small cover provided by the other drinkers was soon taken from them, however. While Archimegadon was beginning to lose focus as the heat of the fireplace surrounded him, he was jarred back into reality as the innkeeper announced that it was time for everyone to head off home. Archimegadon threw the others a confused look.

  ‘Is this some form of nursery?’ he asked.

  ‘Probably Order curfew,’ Anjilo replied, eyeing the clock over the fireplace. ‘It’s the same time they used to enforce at Verrinion Cathedral, so I bet they’ve started imposing it elsewhere now. That screws things up a bit.’

  ‘We couldn’t have stayed at this table all night anyway,’ Tharanor said. ‘You know what, we might as well stop hiding and deal with Zillon now.’

  ‘Still no Mellara,’ Archimegadon said. ‘Are we going to bed, or do you really wish to go out in this weather and attempt to locate Zillon?’

  ‘Let’s go to the room and wait for Mellara there,’ Anjilo replied. ‘Splitting us up is what Zillon wants.’

  They allowed the rest of the room to empty up a bit more before finally conceding and collecting their weaponry and taking the stairs next to the bar. Archimegadon was mindful of each creak as the six of them made their way slowly into the shadowy upper floor of The Vildred Arms. While many of the taverns Archimegadon stayed in had been largely constructed from wood, this one had likely been built from local stone, which bore a somewhat muddy hue. It did not lend itself to good lighting, and appeared to almost absorb the flickering candlelight as they left the main hall and entered a side corridor that led to their room.

  Archimegadon considered this as they slowly advanced down the corridor. Was the stone indeed so dour, or was Zillon’s magic already surrounding them, sucking all the vibrancy from their vision in readiness for his deadly strike? Anjilo seemed to be thinking along similar lines, as she held out an arm and stopped, while Obdo walked straight into it.

  ‘Ouch,’ Anjilo said. ‘Wait, guys.’

  ‘Dark magic,’ Neurion said.

  ‘You sense it too?’

  Neurion nodded.

  Archimegadon took in their surroundings, but there was hardly space enough for any sort of ambush. The ceiling was flat and just a head higher than Tharanor, while the corridor itself stretched out with four doors to the right and three to the left, before turning off at the end. Was Zillon really going to go for something as basic as shooting them when they walked round the corner?

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ Anjilo said.

  ‘Me too,’ Neurion said, looking nervous but determined.

  Anjilo smiled at him, and the two paladins both intoned a quiet prayer that Archimegadon could not quite catch. As the light flickered about them both, all light seemed to be snatched from the corridor for a brief instant, after which Anjilo and Neurion stood motionless, their mouths agape, frozen mid-prayer.

  ‘Light be damned, he set a trap for them,’ Ithalna said. ‘Wake up, you two!’

  ‘Quiet!’ Tharanor said. ‘You’ll get us noticed.’

  ‘That is hardly my concern right now,’ Ithalna said, and she slapped Neurion across the face, to no effect.

  ‘Balls, is it something I can dispel?’ Archimegadon asked.

  Ithalna glared at him. ‘I highly doubt it, Master Forseld. You have no training in this branch of magic, as I recall. Now is the time to stop with this childish game, and take off my binding. I will deal with Zillon for us all now instead.’

  Archimegadon looked over at Tharanor, whose beard bristled for a moment before he slowly shook his head.

  ‘I… no, Ithalna, we cannot risk it,’ Archimegadon said.

  ‘You are both fools,’ Ithalna said, baring her teeth. ‘You truly wish to die to this shadow hunter out of some brainless assumption that I want you both dead? I have had countless opportunities to slaughter the lot of you for weeks – take this blasted collar off now!’

  Archimegadon took a step back, unsettled by Ithalna’s fury, and he fumbled through his pockets in search of his key. ‘Erm, very well – assuming I even have the right key.’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot, Archie,’ Tharanor said, stepping between the two mages. ‘Let’s get out of here now.’

  ‘Look here, Tharanor, you can stop with this nonsense yourself!’ Ithalna said, grabbing the front of his jerkin and shoving him back against the wall. ‘I have been very patient with this restriction up to this point, but you are now putting my life in serious danger and I have had enough!’

  ‘Uhm, pardon me, miss,’ Obdo said, poking Ithalna’s upper arm, ‘but if Mister Zillon has laid out an anti-Light trap, is it not likely that he’ll probably just silence you too?’

  Ithalna froze in the midst of her rage, and the red flush drained from her face after a silent second passed. ‘Ah, you may be correct.’ She let Tharanor go, and put her hands on her hips. ‘Nonetheless, let my dissatisfaction be noted.’

  Tharanor shook his jerkin and stepped away from the wall. ‘Right. You need to work on your people skil
ls. But listen – do you hear anything at all? I’m not sure there is anyone up here with us anyway. We’ve hardly been quiet, but no other people in the rooms have reacted.’

  Archimegadon eyed the nearby doors, but it was hard to tell if there was anyone behind any of them. A faint draft toyed with the candle flames for an instant, causing him to twitch. He checked over Neurion and Anjilo again, but the two paladins were still motionless, staring sightless down the sombre corridor.

  ‘Mellara said nobody else was staying here, no?’ Ithalna said after a moment.

  ‘Erm, oh, maybe she did,’ Archimegadon said, and now that he thought about it, he was certain that Ithalna was correct on that point.

  ‘You two mages are useless right now,’ Tharanor said, hefting Uldraxios. ‘Grab one each, and let’s get moving.’

  Archimegadon blinked, but Ithalna caught on to what Tharanor meant faster, and she took hold of Anjilo and yanked her back towards the main hall of the tavern, while Tharanor led the way, with Obdo lingering in the middle. Frustrated, Archimegadon gave Neurion a good shake, but the young paladin did not react in the slightest.

  The fireplace was out when they returned to the main hall, and not a person was in sight. Tharanor gave Uldraxios a couple of experimental swings, as though swatting ethereal flies, and his footsteps echoed violently in the silence. Archimegadon tried to keep an eye out while he dragged the surprisingly heavy Neurion after him, but Obdo noticed and headed to the back of the group, watching things there while Tharanor handled the front.

  Tharanor led the group towards the back of the tavern, where Archimegadon continued to note the distinct absence of any other living beings, human or otherwise. They found a door that led out to the stables, and Tharanor barged it open when it turned out to be locked. Archimegadon hoped that Mellara would turn up soon, because he was tiring fast, and he wanted to leave this damned town and get away from whatever trap Zillon had set up here.

  ‘Let’s get some bloody horses and leave,’ Archimegadon said over the pouring rain as they stepped out into the storm.