Previous: Issue One, Part III
(Content Warning: Loss of Sanity by way of Corruption, Violence, Language)
I turn my head slowly, carefully, to look over my shoulder. A young slip of a girl stands in the small clearing behind me, not but ten whole feet of space between us, the great old trees surrounding us like onlookers at a match of fisticuffs. The wind whistles slightly through their trunks between us. The creaking of the branches overhead makes it seem almost as if they are leaning in on us, in anticipation of the blood yet to be spilled.
"Temira," I say, calmly, but with just that small trace of disgust in my voice.
"Ironsworn. For what else can you be? So you know me then...Keelan must have told you all about me." She fairly spits the settlement leader's name.
"I know you have betrayed your kin." I turn slowly to face her now, attempting to stand tall and display no weakness. Small as this girl was...I...I could feel the power radiating from her. "It is a grievous sin you have committed. Against both nature and family."
She throws her head back and laughs wildly. Then, with a sharp suddenness, the laughter cuts short and she drops her chin, staring out at me from beneath her brow. It is a mad gaze. I can see she is quite unmoored. "You are not part of my family, what should you care, Outsider?"
"I don't need to explain myself to the likes of you. Suffice it to say, I will not allow you to work your dark magic on the world or its peoples ever again." My gaze is level, centered.
She does not seem the least bit intimidated. She even smirks at me. "Heh, you mean to kill me, then?"
I hesitate, thinking of Keelan. She sees it and her smile widens. I steel myself and respond, "If I must."
I lift my spear and spread my legs into a fighting stance. She stops smiling and makes a quick movement with her hand. A blade of shadow slides out from her forearm, just above her tightened fist. As I focus in on her, my sight line aligning with the tip of my spear, Keelan's words echo in my head again. "I will hear her side of the story before I pass judgement," she said, "I will not condemn her before I have even looked into her eyes."
I curse, silently, under my breath. The witch seems wary of the iron-tipped spear. I think I know why. Damn it all.
With a swift movement of my own, I spin the spear and plant it in the ground beside me. Despite my boast, I know I cannot kill this wretched soul. I step away from the spear and turn my side to her, exposing less mass, my eyes flicking to her own blade. My hands come up in fighting form.
At this point, I'll Draw the Circle against Temira.
I'll consider Temira Dangerous, I think, which means I mark 2 progress per hit on her and she inflicts 2 Harm on me per hit.
Roll +Heart(2)= 5 vs 3, 9, Weak Hit.
I choose 1 of the optional boasts and take +1 Momentum for it (now 8).
I choose Hold No Iron. My Harm is 1.
She stares at the spear for a long few seconds, then her eyes slide up to meet mine. "No..." she fairly croaks,"you don't understand. You don't understand anything!"
Enter the Fray, facing off.
Roll +Heart(2)= 6 vs 8, 4, Weak Hit.
Prepare to Act: Take Initiative.
Unsure of myself in a contest of magic against a witch, I opt for the direct route.
I rush her suddenly, before she even finishes yelling at me, and launch a barrage of full frontal attacks.
Strike, Close Combat.
Roll +Iron(3)=9 vs 5, 7, Strong Hit.
Do +1 Harm (2 Harm), Retain Initiative.
Temira 4 Progress.
My hands are like tridents lancing out across the scant space between us, my blunt fingertips finding the pressure points of her brachial nerve and subclavian. She stumbles back, caught unawares but where I should see surprise in my opponent's eyes I find only fury. Fury and madness. I press my advantage while she's on her back foot, hoping to bring the fight to a swift conclusion before she has a chance to unleash her vile magics.
She swipes at me with the shadow blade a few times, but I flow around her attacks with microadjustments of my own body. As the blade passes near my skin, I can feel its darkness trying to draw out the darkness that yet persists within me. She catches her breath long enough to continue ranting at me. "She was like a sister to me! But she LEFT! SHE LEFT! And who to pick up the pieces but the wisewoman, not even yet fully of age!"
She lunges forward, driving the shadow sword toward my heart. "They won't judge ME, Ironsworn!"
Strike, Close Combat.
Roll+Iron(3)= 6 vs 9, 3, Weak Hit.
Inflict Harm (1 Harm), Lose Initiative.
Temira 5 Progress.
I sidestep the sudden lunge, but only barely. The darkness of the blade calls to my heart and a chill goes up my spine as I spin away to create distance. I hear her words. I know she seeks death at my hand rather than face her mistakes. I can see the darkness inside her has driven her insane with resentment and bitterness. For a moment, I fear that same darkness may corrupt me too. I scan her stance and position, automatically thinking through killing strikes. I shake my head briefly...the grip of the magical gloom is strong. But I won't give in. I can conquer it, even if she can't.
Her sword lengthens and snakes out along the detritus beneath our feet in this old forest. Her palm turns to grip the newly transformed shadow whip and, in the blink of an eye, she sends it snapping across the clearing.
Face Danger, with Invoke Asset.
I want to turn that whip against her with my Asset. But I'm not sure whether this is more of a precision timing thing (indicating a reliance on physical prowess over magic) or an expertise thing (indicating a stronger ability with magic for Korvarr than we thought). I don't think its a 50/50 thing, though, because I've already stated that Korvarr is more martially proficient than magically. Still, let's see. I'll say that it's more Likely that it's physical prowess, which it is on a 26 or greater and...Roll=60, it is.
Roll +Edge(2)= 4 vs 7, 8, Miss.
Spend Momentum to create Strong Hit. (Now 2).
Gain +1 momentum from Invoke on a hit and +1 Momentum from Face Danger on a strong hit (now 4).
Essence drops by 1 (now 3).
I duck under the extension of the whip just as it cracks above my head, then reach up and wrap my forearm around the end of the whip. She pulls back, expecting the shadow to dissipate around my arm and reform near her but it doesn't. The whip line goes taut and I solidify my grip on her magic. Her eyes go wide.
I'm going to use Invoke again but this time to suck up the magic.
Roll +Wits(1)= 6 vs 4, 1 Strong Hit.
Essence shoots up to 6.
Then Secure Advantage to create mystical effect.
Roll +Essence(6)= 7 vs 2, 1 Strong Hit, SOOO lucky. I think this shows how incomplete Korvarr's grasp of magic really is.
Essence goes down to 5. Momentum +1 from Invoke (now 5).
Make another action now and add +1.
She strains against the tension of the whip, willing it to disperse or come free but I hold it fast. "No more," I say quietly.
Strike, ranged combat.
Roll +Edge(2)= 7 vs 9, 10, Miss. Daaaamn.
Attack fails, she gains Init, and I Pay the Price.
Roll = 55, thankfully matches don't matter on Pay the Price. 55 is Causes a Delay or Puts you at a Disadvantage.
I think I'll roll Action and Theme to see what kind, got Search Power.
I think this means the whip is a tether between us. Now that I've connected to it willingly, the darkness flows freely between us both. Our magics are opened up to one another. And I am hopelessly outmatched in the magic department. Now that she knows it, she knows physical combat between us is better avoided in favor of magical control.
The whip disintegrates into wisps of dark colored smoke as I once again connect to the dark magic and try to wrestle it under control. I allow it to flow through me, forming a shadow trident in my other uplifted hand. I'm fighting fire with fire. I hadn't meant to create a deadly weapon, I had meant to recreate the whip...to use it to restrain her. Instinctually and to my horror, I draw back and launch the many pronged missile at my opponent.
It pierces her chest, where her heart should be, and spins her around. My stomach drops.
She falls to her knees, curved spine to me. I am nearly frozen with the horror of my misdeed. I hadn't meant to kill her. I didn't mean to do it. Anyone who would have happened to be standing nearby would have heard the ghostly laugh of pure malice echoing through the wood. They would have seen my coal black eyes. I slowly lower my arm and straighten up.
But it slowly occurs to me that the ghostly laughing is all too real. She's making it, that awful sound. And when she turns to me, the sclera of her eyes matches mine. She turns on her knee, looking up at me and laughing harder and harder. I am too shocked to understand. She calms enough to say, between chuckles, "Yes, Ironsworn, I think we are, in fact, done here." She raises her hand sharply. I feel invisible bands of iron wrap around my neck and arms and drag me upward into the sky. I find myself floating several feet above the ground, choking on the manifestation of her power.
Clash Time.
Roll +Edge(2)= 7 vs 8, 2, Weak Hit.
Inflict Harm (1 Harm), Pay the Price, she has Init.
Pay the Price = A surprising development complicates my quest.
I think we know what that is.
I struggle mightily, sending my power outward in a panicked burst. It slams into her as she starts to stand, knocking her back down to one knee. But her control is strong and she maintains her telekinetic grip on me. As our magic collides again, as she stands and looks me dead in the eyes, I feel more strongly connected to her in that moment than I have any person I have ever met. I know its the twisted magic inside of us, wanting to be whole, wanting to spread. I know that's what's connecting us and I can feel it eating away at my mind and spirit.
So that's how I know Temira is gone. Whatever remained of the too young wisewoman has been consumed by this evil magic. She is naught but a vessel for it now. And soon, I will be too.
I have no choice if I want to survive and see my vow complete.
I'm going to Turn the Tide.
Take Initiative, Add +1 to a move, take +1 Momentum on a hit.
Strike, ranged combat.
Roll +1 +Edge(2)= 7 vs 9, 1, Weak Hit.
Inflict Harm (1 Harm), Temira 7 Progress.
Momentum goes up to 5.
Lose Init.
Try as I might, I can't break free from her control. I try to focus this time. Instead of a wild burst of energy, I reach out and call my spear to me. It responds, but awkwardly. Ripping itself out of the ground, it whirls toward me and smacks Temira on the back of the head as it passes. I just barely manage to catch it.
Fury flashes in her gaze again and she stands fully and walks several rapid steps toward me, her outstretched hand curled into a claw tightening as though she were trying to strangle the life from me. Her magic responds and does just that, constricting around my throat. My arms go limp as the magic there consolidates her hold on my neck.
Clash, ranged combat.
Roll +Edge(2)= 8 vs 8, 7, Weak Hit.
She keeps Init, I Pay the Price, and I do 1 Harm. I realize at this point that I fucked up the harm thing. It's 2 boxes per 1 Harm, so I'ma just retroactively bump her up to a full progress bar of 10.
Pay the Price = A person or community you trusted loses faith in you or acts against you. Yeeeeaaaaah.
I lash out at her, swinging wildly now that I'm hanging by the neck above the forest floor. I score a severe cut across her brow but she almost doesn't respond to the pain of the cut, so focused on my death is she.
"Die," she says, "die like everyone you've tried to protect. Die like everyone who will come after you, by my hand. Die like all who would oppose my supreme will."
She steps even closer and tightens her hand into a fist. I feel like I am going to black out.
"Die, Ironsworn."
Faintly, I hear hoofbeats and yelling voices.
Clash, close combat.
Roll +Iron(3)= 4 vs 4, 6, Miss. Fuck. Welp.
Pay the Price is obvious this time. My Health drops to 0.
Endure Harm
Roll +Iron(3)= 4 vs 3, 7, Weak Fucking Hit.
I press on. Lord.
I cling desperately to consciousness, my vision fading rapidly around the edges. I hear familiar voices. My blood pounds in my ears, so even their yelling sounds faint and far away. I impotently try to grasp the magic collar around my neck with one hand and hopelessly try to maintain my grip on the haft of the spear with the other. I can feel the numbness in my arms and I have no idea if I've succeeded in holding onto it.
I give in and once more try to engage my natural talent as a siphon. I try to draw the dark magic of the collar into my hand. I welcome it in.
Invoke
Roll +Wits(1)= 6 vs 7, 9, Miss. Unreal.
Clash, close combat.
Roll +Iron(3)= 9 vs 5, 3, Strong Hit. Damn, look at that, zero hour.
Bolster Position: +1 Momentum (now 6).
Strong Hit allows
End the Fight
10 Progress vs 5, 5, Match, Strong Hit.
Her control over the magic between us is simply too strong. I will never break it. But I never quit. I never rest. I'll rest when I'm dead. I can't see my target but I know its there, just as I have always been able to find my treasures in the darkness beneath the waves, now too is my aim true.
I lurch raggedly with one arm, my Iron-tipped spear an extension of it, and slam the tip through her very heart. There is a moment of stunned silence. A quiet, not unlike the soundless depths of my ocean home, fills the clearing.
The pressure on my neck releases, the ground rushes up to meet me. I vaguely feel impact. I hear screaming, someone denying the reality of what has just transpired. Breaths come in ragged gasps. Someone in armor kneels beside me after what feels like an eternity. Keelan's voice. "Damn you, Ironsworn." Then, nothing. Just the endless dark again.
The question on my mind about that Match at the end there is that it fundamentally changes things. It's a positive match so I envision two things here:
1) That Keelan will be displeased with my actions but will allow me to explain and ultimately see why I did what I did. In this scenario, she allows me to rest and heal in the settlement.
2) That I did not, in fact, strike Temira's heart as I thought I had and instead struck a vital wound but not a killing one. She survives to see her trial and I have offended no one.
The first will prevent me from bonding with these people but will allow me to live.
The second will allow me to live and bond with them, and I will not have given into the darkness.
And yeah, I realize these are unbalanced but that's what seems most interesting to me, narratively.
I'm going to give it a 50/50.
Roll = 90. Hell yeah.
Another consideration is whether I fulfill my Vow to Free the People of Thornhill from the Tyranny of the Forest Spirit, which is now at 6 Progress.
The possibilities of mucking that up are interesting but its also my first vow and we've gotten pretty grimdark already.
I'm going to let the dice decide again, 50/50.
Roll = 63, so I guess we'll hold off on that...seems there's a little more to be done here.
Next: Issue One, Part V
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