"The Tale of Zyrimir d'Quethe IV"

by Chartaine

Note: This is the fourth installment in an ongoing tale. The previous episodes are available in our Archives section.

The two friends followed the rigorous pace set by the mercenary leader. Having been bound and all their weapons stripped from them, the mage and paladin had no choice but to be led. Zyrimir watched as he walked, noticing several things. Their captors were not all on the same page. There was one dressed differently from the others. This one also kept his head on a swivel, where the leader watched only where he was going. Zyrimir stumbled as one of the mercenaries behind him used the end of a spear to prod him back to his march.

Another turn in the alley revealed a dead end, at least until the leader got close enough to the wall to snap his fingers. As simple as the action was, it had a disturbing effect on the surrounding area. Walls opened around the group to reveal doors and small arrow slots where dozens of deadly crossbows aimed at the two prisoners.

"Easy, boys, it's me, and I got our meal ticket ready," grinned the leader as a secret door opened in the wall. The two friends were soon led deep into the fortress, pushed and prodded into a cell, then beaten. When they lay unconscious on the floor, the mercenary leader came in. Snapping the chain that held Zyrimir's pendant, he held it up victoriously.

"Look'a here, boys! This'll feed us fer the rest of yer lifetimes," he roared, his voice echoing around the compound.

* * * * *

"Those two couldn't do nuttin' right. Tink we oughta help dem? Nah, didn't tink you say so, but we goin' anyways."

"Jeez, why we always helpin' dem out?"

"'Cause dey have somethin' dat keeps da world togetha, dey just don't know it yet."

"Dat why we should just stay outta it. If dey too stoopid to realize dat, dey don't need our help."

"Oh, shuddup! We helpin' dem, and dats final!"

* * * * *

Chartaine awoke to a dark cell. As his eyes began to adjust to the gloom, he noticed that the cell was filled with straw. Several small dark forms scurried about underneath his feet. Continuing his scan of the room, Chartaine found Zyrimir in a crumpled heap on the floor. Jumping up, the familiar sound of chains filled his ears, echoing about the cell. Looking down at his feet, the young mage realized that he was chained to the wall. Taking a glance at his hands, he found them bound in the same way. As Chartaine tried to speak, he realized that his mouth had been gagged. He cursed in his mind, trying to figure out a way to get to Zyrimir. His question was answered as a cackling voice approached his cell.

"How valiant. The mageling is trying to help. Too bad that he will rot down 'ere, eh?" the mercenary said to the man standing next to him. "He really doesn't need to worry about the paladin, we will still need him to get us our pay."
The leader turned and signaled down the hallway. A couple of scruffy-looking mercenaries answered by coming into view.

"Show the mage what we do to those who get in our way," the leader commanded the two. They grinned, both missing a good amount of teeth, and opened the cell. "Let him lose. I want to see how good he would have been."

The two mercenaries in the cell worked Chartaine loose from the chains. The noise woke Zyrimir, who immediately ran to the bars that separated him from his friend's cell. The two mercenaries circled the weaponless mage. They swung wildly, trying to land a strike on the evasive human. Chartaine stayed just out of reach of the blades, all the while looking for something to use as a weapon. Chartaine worked his way along the wall of bars between his cell and Zyrimir's. Zyrimir took a step back as a wild swing from one mercenary came dangerously close to where his hands had been gripping the bars. As the mercenary came along the wall, Zyrmir reached toward the man's sword arm. Finding a grip on the mercenary's sleeve, he pulled hard, slamming the arm into the bars and sending the sword skidding toward Chartaine.

The mercenary leader cursed out loud as he saw the tide turning. Chartaine ducked a blow by the other mercenary and rolled toward the sword. Coming up next to the sword, the mage fumbled to close on its grip. Finally grasping it, he brought the sword up parallel with the floor and blocked the blade of the mercenary. The human mage worked marvelously as the blade took several swipes at the mercenary, driving him back against the stone wall. Another step and swing left the mercenary in a crumpled heap.

While Chartaine was finishing off the first mercenary, Zyrimir was keeping the other distracted. Zyrimir, having no weapon, kept bashing the mercenary repeatedly off the cell wall. After several moments of this strategy, he succeeded. The paladin released his grip as soon as he felt the second mercenary go limp, dead. Zyrimir turned to find his friend crumpled on the floor, product of the spell the man, obviously a mage, had just cast.