Xavori
The Butcher
For the second time in less than a day, I had been killed by
the tyrant's homicidal guards who seem to have taken more and
more to wandering the wilderness rather than protecting their
posts. Fortunately, this time my allies in the Insidious
Brotherhood were nearby to restore my life, although my
belongings were lost to a young knave named Reed (who shan't live
very long if our paths should cross again). They had given me a
few reagents, a weapon, and then we had gone hunting. After a
short time, I had a full suit of bone armor and enough reagents
to survive any attacker. I thanked them and bid them farewell so
I could go rest.
After a short nap, I awoke and recalled to the inn at
Buccaneer's Den. I immediately noticed The Butcher and Klien
Banesblade. Since the Butcher had been removed from the Insidious
Brotherhood, I waited a moment to see how they would react to me.
"Xavori" called out The Butcher.
He tried several more times to get my attention, but I
continued to pretend to be blacked out from recalling.
"You had best be here. I am going to attempt to steal
from you."
He stole an empty pack from me and then dropped it on the
ground. I chuckled and picked it up. I then greeted them both.
"We are going to spar," said the Butcher. "I
need to exercise and gain back strength I have lost."
I bid them good luck in their practice and went wandering the
isle. I went south to the tavern to quench my thirst. I walked
into the bar, and was taken aback for a moment. Bodies were
carved up all over the floor. I looked around and saw the
culprit, the Reverend Manson.
"Hail, milord," I called out.
"Hiya" he replied.
"I have heard tales of thee, good sir," I said with
a slight grin.
The Reverend was an enemy of the Red Capes of Justice. Lord
Gorax of the Brotherhood has his heart set on one of the ladies
of that guild, and although I personally find it most strange
that he thinks she would ever love a murderer, I decided that
perhaps I could help his cause by allowing him to present her the
head of an enemy. I then started working on a plan to trap and
kill Manson.
"Is this gud or bad for me?" he asked nervously.
Although his langauge was very base, I decided to ignore it
until I knew more about him. Fortunately, because he was a dread
lord, his fighting skill was branded along with his reputation.
He was a grandmaster warrior.
"Milord, art thou not a great fighter. Thou hast little
to fear from me."
"I am, but not if it comes to magic."
"Canst thou not cast spells?" I asked.
"I can cast seventh circle, but I'm low on
reagents."
I almost rejoiced at that and a plan quickly formulated in my
head. I moved close to him, but not so close as to make him
nervous and began checking his pack whilst discussing the villany
of the tyrant British. I found his pouch of reagents and saw he
had but a single mandrake root, and only two black pearls. With a
deft touch, I pocketed first the root, then the pearls. He could
now not recall out of danger, nor could he use any magical
attack. I chuckled as added his magic components to my own.
"Milord, doth thou know that thou hast a price on thy
head?" I asked innocently.
"Ya, I got a bunch."
"A pity," I said as I tossed a magic arrow to break
any magic reflection he might have in place. I then followed it
with a pair of fireballs.
He immediately tried to cast a spell and escape, but
unfortunately, he did not realize I already had taken care of
that.
"SHIT!" he screamed and took off running out the
door.
I immediately took off after him, but for some reason, leaving
the tavern always seems to cause me much duress and by the time I
was out, he had escaped. I cursed whatever demons guarded the
door of that bar and started searching for him, knowing he was
trapped on the isle.
I kept up my search and eventually made my way back to the
inn. The Butcher and his friend were still sparring, so I
approached them to learn if they knew of Manson's whereabouts.
"Milords, hast thou seen the Reverend Manson?" I
asked.
"Don't kill him. He's a friend of mine." replied the
Butcher.
"Was he here?" I asked, hiding my intent.
"Yes, but I helped him out and gave him some
reagents," said the Butcher.
I nearly blasted him right there. The Butcher had interferred
with me before, and he was allies with my former nemisis
Sparafucile, a former paladin turned notoriety hunter, turned
pure murderer. However, I controlled myself since the Butcher had
once been a member of the Magical Bubba's brotherhood, and
therefore, I would give him the benifit of the doubt.
"The Reverend Manson is vile filth." I said.
"He is a dread lord like us," said The Butcher.
"I am uniting all the dread lords of this shard to take over
the land. He is already a part of that."
The Butcher then went on to explain his vision of a league of
dread lords that would control everything. He claimed to have
already untied forty some murderers and such to his cause. I
listened in mild amusement at the thought that one with as little
leadership skill as the Butcher leading anything, but the more I
thought about it, the more I disliked the idea.
The tyrant British is a poor ruler for Sosaria. His false
virtues have corrupted so many. The best example I knew of was
the paladin Sparafucile. Once, whilst I was very young, I had
tricked my way into the guild forge of the Knightmare guild. I
had stolen a key to the house from one of the fighters,
Chickenator. I would have escaped with the key if not for
Sparfucile's interference. He valiantly came to the aid of the
poor fighter and his guild mates, and with their help, he
defeated me. Although I had despised his interference, his true
nobility had not been lost on me. Much later, I saw Sparafucile
attack a man simply because he was branded by the tyrant. He was
no longer a paladin, but just another slave to the false ideals
of the evil British. Finally, because of the bloodlust he had
learned whilst hunting the outlaws of Sosaria, he turned to a
pure murderer. He had attempted to ally with the Insidious
Brotherhood, but they turned on him after he insulted a lady and
made a racial comment in very poor taste. A great man had been
completely ruined by the tyrant. However, even the tyrant is not
so much a threat as this league that The Butcher spoke of.
Although I despise British, for the most part, he is
completely ineffectual as a ruler. He sits behind his walls,
oblivious to the ruin his system of notoriety is causing the
land. This league, though, would not be inneffectual. It would be
made up of some of the most aggressive and evil men and women in
the land. Although I am branded the same as they are, I believe
first in foremost in the freedom of men and women to live free
from any form of tyranny. This league the Butcher was forming
would easily be far more controlling and would do far more to
limit the freedom of the men and women of Sosaria. I decided then
and there to make sure it never came to power.
The Butcher then turned his ramblings to me and then to his
former allies in the Brotherhood. He claimed that I killed weak
and helpless young in the land, whilst he preyed only on the fat
and weak.
"Xavori, I've seen you kill newbies," he said.
"I don't fault you for it, I just choose to kill rich
people."
"Nay, milord, why would I?" I asked suprised he
would tell such a lie to my face. "There is no challenge or
profit there."
"Oh, that is good then." he replied, "It's just
you hang out with the IB and they used to kill newbies at the
bridge when I was a member."
I was dumbfounded. First, he made a completely false
accuasation against me. Then, when I refuted it, he complimented
me and then when on to insult my allies. I was almost glad to
hear that the would-be leader of the union of dread lords was so
completely foolish.
During this whole speech by the Butcher, he had been sparring.
They had healed each other several times, so although I had
decided to kill them both, I waited for them to near the point at
which they would heal themselves. After a few moments, they
reached that point.
I immediately hit The Butcher with a magic arrow, and then
created a field of fire that covered both he and his friend. They
quickly scrambled to get out of the fire, but I started throwing
fireballs at them both. The Butcher dropped dead quickly, and I
turned towards Klien. He panicked and attempted to heal himself,
but forgot the weapon in his hand which caused him to fumble the
spell. I cast a final fireball and laid him low.
"So, milord," I chuckled, "doth thou still
think I attack only the young and weak?"
I rushed over and started grabbing all of their equipment.
This would go a long way to replacing what I lost to the
wandering guards. I hurried knowing from past experience, that
The Butcher is often linked via a mysterious ether to several of
his allies, and they would be here shortly. Just as I grabbed the
last of his armor, Allanon of Wind appeared.
He created a firefield in front of me, but I quickly grabbed a
rune. Then with the last of my mana, I recalled to safety.
|
