choose your own adventure, episode 10a
KNIGHT SWORD, EPISODE 10A
You decide to take a chance and follow the cloaked man.
“This way!” he says, even as Vlacht’s orcs crash into the patrons of the Ghost Boar Inn. You and Caius follow the cloaked man as he darts into the back room where Rodrik and his bouncers vanished. Inside the back room are casks of wine and beer, sacks of dried vegetables…and an open trapdoor in the floor.
Rodrik does indeed have a way out of Moridun.
The cloaked man kicks the door shut and bars it.
“That won’t hold them for long,” he says.
“Who the devil are you?” says Caius.
The cloaked man pulls back his hood. His face is gaunt and lean, almost emaciated, but his forearms and hands are bundled with sinewy muscle. A gruesome burn scar disfigures the left side of his face and forehead. It’s a brand of some kind – the High Queen’s magistrates often brand criminals.
“Call me Mourner,” says the cloaked man. “I am with the rebels. I came to warn Jerome of his peril, but I arrived too late.” He shakes his head, and the sounds of combat from the Inn’s common room grow louder. “But we can trade stories later. Move.”
He grabs a lantern and smashes it against the wall. The oil spills into the dry wood, and the wall begins to burn. Then he scrambles down the ladder into the trapdoor, and you and Caius have no choice but to follow.
The back room is already burning merrily when you pull the trapdoor shut over your head.
The ladder ends in a narrow tunnel of black stone, its walls marked with worn bas-reliefs. Your father once told you that Moridun is built on the ruins of an ancient Dark Elven citadel, left over from their long-fallen empire, and to judge from the crates and sacks stacked against the wall, Rodrik used the ruins as his smuggling tunnel.
“This way,” says Mourner, pointing. “That rat Rodrik’s bolt-hole opens in the hills north of the city. From there, we’ll circle south and make our way to the city of Sigildun. The rebellion has friends there, and we can take the sword to a safe place.”
“No,” says Caius.
Mourner frowns. “You have a better plan?”
“Jerome and I spent our lives guarding the holy sword!” says Caius. “He never gave it to the rebels because he knew you did not know how to make new Paladins, he knew that the rebels lost their soulblades to the Night Ravens. If you take the holy sword, the Ravens will kill you and take it from you.”
Mourner’s eyes glitter. “And what would you do with it?”
“What Jerome bade me to do with it,” said Caius. “We shall take it to Jerome’s friend Curtwall, northwest of the town. Curtwall will know what to do.”
“Curtwall!” says Mourner, angry now. “That renegade? The rebellion has struggled against the Blood Queen for twenty years, and Curtwall has not lifted a finger to aid us!”
“Jerome and Curtwall and I have kept the holy sword safe!” says Caius, just as angry. “Jerome was a great man, and we shall do as he wished, and give the sword to Curtwall!”
“You idiots!” you say. “The orcs are right above us!” Or, perhaps worse, the burning Inn will collapse into the tunnel.
Neither man pays any attention to you.
“Jerome was a great man,” says Mourner, “but you failed to protect the sword. He’s dead, isn’t he? Ulmoch must have killed him, and Ulmoch knows the soulblade is here. We will take it to Sigildun, and we will give it to men who know how to protect it.”
“No,” says Caius, voice cold, “you will not.”
Mourner draws his sword so fast that you barely follow the movement.
“That soulblade is our one hope of victory,” says Mourner. “It is our only hope of killing the Ravens, it is our only chance of overthrowing the Blood Queen. It is more important than my life…and far more important than yours and the girl’s. I don’t want your blood on my hands, old man, but if that’s what is necessary to keep the soulblade safe then by the High God I will do it.”
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