Sunday, March 11, 2012

Left Behind

Max Rinnen found that he liked the Dragon’s Head Tavern and visited the establishment as much as possible; the sudden change in tonight’s weather brought him in for a mug of warm graff and the comfort of safety should his pursuers find him- hopefully Max would get lucky and Trystan would likewise be driven into the Dragon’s Head from the cold.

Since arriving in Waterdeep Max discovered the chilling nature of The Magister’s agents, horrific augmented zombies to which the Magister could see through and should some unfortunate soul die at the cold hands of his zombies… would soon rise as such an undead. Max was terrified these undead would also be under the necromancer’s bailiwick. Taking the Magister’s coin for the past four years at Killraven Hold taught him a lot, not the least of which: Max did not want to find himself as an undying, undead slave.

To this end Max made some inquiries and discovered the City of Splendors has become the City of Fate for many this winter, the city is fast becoming crowded and with a war being waged on so many fronts Max in his mind of intrigue couldn’t balance them all at once. He ordered another graff and then noticed Trystan; tall, slender and grim enter with a stunning blonde woman who wore the symbol of Sune and captured the eyes of everyone- human or otherwise.

Max fingered the scroll that would protect him from undeath as he watched Trystan arrange his lady fair’s seat at a table and then was seated himself. Gillian told Max this popular theater actor possessed a divine aspect that enabled him to duplicate and fabricate runes and magical scrolls; Trystan would assuage Max’s fear of becoming undead by making more of his pilfered scroll.

Then the fabric of magic rippled and the Dragon’s Head Tavern became a bloody, chaotic battle field….

Max was quickly pressed to the wall near an exit by an elemental creature that tried viciously to envelope him. In mere moments when all directions became one and then nothing, Max fought off many different types of outsiders one that was unmistakably undead- this renewed his fears of undeath, so when the elemental attempted its enveloping attack, Max sifted to his left and back, found himself on the Tavern’s deck without the creature, and stumbled back onto the grass.

“Grass!?” Max exclaimed out loud to no one. Then the Dragon’s Head was gone, winked out with a sucking of air. Also gone was the smell of pipe weed, the screams of terror, and as Max looked about the city of Waterdeep itself!

Where was he? Max thought as he rose to his feet and picked up his sword. He scanned the countryside and saw curious basalt ruined structures poking up from the ground. Max ventured around and noticed the weather was not the broken sky as above Waterdeep, and the weather was not as blustery.

Finally after about an hour, Max happened upon a patrol of riders all bearing colors Max recognized. He breathed a sigh of relief and hailed them, his arms waving about as if he was trying to fly.

The riders responded immediately and rode at a gallop to him. Max quickly composed himself to not appear threatening as they held up and stopped about thirty feet away. Max noticed their horses were healthy and well maintained; they were well equipped, and the patrol leader was beautiful swords-woman upon a sterling white stallion.

“Well met good folks.” Max said, projecting his voice opening a dialogue. “I have fell victim of magic gone awry and humbly request first aid and… well,” Max paused. “I do not even know where I am. Can you offer sanctuary? I offer what skills I have in return.”

The patrol palavered for a short time among themselves when finally the woman nickered her horse to stand before Max, she even smelled beautiful.

“Well met stranger. I am Allene Macgovern.”