Finishing Business (5 Sep 2002) Thomas confronts the wraith of his old friend, Randall.

Bottom of the Stairwell
The passage ends in a cylindrical stairwell that goes up for an unguessable distance. Lying at the bottom of the stairs is a heap of bones and rags of some greenish-gray color; scattered broken stones, bits of broken wooden railing and pieces of rotted wooden steps suggest that they have not been maintained as well as they ought to have been.

"It is your old friend, Randall. I have come, and I will face you, one on one." Thomas raises his blade in a solemn salute, expression forced to be emotionless. "For the rest you deserve ... let it begin."

Randall salutes in turn, standing on the lowest of the steps, his fey rapier seeming to carve smoke out of the air, and his grizzled face pulls into a smirk. "Come to fight over my old bones, have you? I was always your better with a sword, Thomas, and now that I am dead, there is nothing I fear. I suspect it is you who will find rest, though it will be an uneasy one in my master's service. Do not think that he will allow me to falter as I did the last time we met."

The chorus of jruuh quiets for a moment as the wraith stretches his blade out to cross with Thomas's. Sir Lefallon stares on, torch held in one hand, sword in the other, worried look upon his young face.

tap

And with that one sound, Randall lunges forward, seizing the initiative. This is as he has always fought: textbook-classic, hard and fast.

No words from Thomas this time, keeping his attention squarely on Randall. As Randall attacks, he keeps his breath controlled and slow, and sidestepping and bringing his blade up to deflect the attack away -- then slide in with a quick slashing attack.

Randall is faster than Thomas remembers; death has clearly not slowed his reflexes. A red line runs across Tom's left arm, a flesh wound that could have proven disabling if he had been only a little slower. The wraith continues to press his attack, taking the initiative, stepping off the stairs and onto the bare earthen floor.

Sir Lefallon keeps his gaze on the entrance, shielding the others from any jruuh attack from the rear. "Lady Redmane," he whispers urgently. "What's happening?"

Rachel flinches more than Tom does from the wound. Like Simon, she tries to watch for jruuh, but her eyes continually return to the battle playing out before them.

Stepping back towards Simon to give Tom more room, Redmane whispers to Rachel, "Head up the stairs until you're out of range of the blades, and watch for jruuh or anything else coming from above." To Sir Lefallon, she whispers, "Thomas is engaged in a private battle."

Thomas moves back swiftly, his martial arts training showing. His back legs drops back beneath him and he glides backwards and runs his free hand along the floor as he does so. He comes back up a moment later, further away from Randall and starts sizing his options. "Have you given up fighting against him?" Thomas asks softly now that he's gained a bit of time.

The wraith, standing at the base of the stairs and about to move forward to engage Thomas again, pauses for a moment. "The Destroyer has tightened his hold on me doubly, since we fought last, Thomas. I tell you now, so you will not risk it: should I pretend to hold my blade aside so that you may run me through, do not believe me, for--" His free hand clutches his forehead as if he were gripped by a headache. His blade falters momentarily.

Thomas moves in quickly, seeming as if he's taking the chance at the opening. Instead, he simply brings his blade up in a swipe at the wraith's hand and to bring his sword back into a defensive frontal guard.

The raven-haired girl nods to Redmane, and sidles along the edge of the wall, trying to slip past the combatants to approach the stairwell. She waits to one side, hoping the wraith will be lured from the steps by Tom's retreat.

The blow connects, leaving a line of black ichor! "Well struck, old friend. You must strike me down before you can pass, you know that," Randall says as he draws his sword up into a salute, his grip tightening despite the black blood oozing from his hand. "Don't let sentimentality get in your way. The Destroyer is as happy to use that as any other weakness."

Thomas moves in and makes a quick slashing strike at Randall again. As he goes, he says, "Emotions are a source of strength, old friend. They push you beyond your limits. They drive you to overcome what seems to be insurmountable. Find it in yourself ... find yourself again."

In a conversational tone, as Randall counters the attack and scores a scratch against Tom's hand, similar to the one on his own hand, the wraith replies. "Feelings are indeed powerful things. I knew that you would come this way, old friend. Rather than waste my energies chasing you all about the West, I chose to remain here, where I am strongest, and here you are. Trapped by your own will."

His face takes on a sympathetic look as he returns his blade to a guard position. "I offer you the chance to surrender now, Thomas. As a living agent, you would be more valuable to my lord than as a wraith. Whatever you want, you'll have it in plenty. Gold, women, ships to far worlds that no one in Mirari has ever seen..."

Redmane frowns as she watches the wraith's wounds. "Thomas, his wounds heal quickly. Try to strike off his head," the knight advises.

Sir Lefallon glances back from his guard position, hearing Randall's words.

Now that Redmane has called Thomas's attention to Randall's hand, it can be seen that the ichor is dripping away to leave unmarked wraith-flesh. It is as if the blow had never marked him in the first place.

Rachel lurks in the shadows against a wall, her eyes darting about at the rumbling of jruuh. She watches for an opening at the stairwell.

Thomas winces and backs off from Randall and gathers himself. He flexes his grip on his sword, testing it. "I have been trapped by my will ever since I swore I would find the Destroyer, no matter the cost. My days of travel ... my days of ships to far off worlds ended the moment I handed my brooch over to you and became old and long forgotten memories," Thomas says quietly, then moves in again and makes a slash towards the wraith. "My duty now stands to those of Mirari and their future. So those who still follow the dreams I started can continue the journey's I began."

The wraith moves to counter the attack, but a fraction too late; fresh ichor surges from a slash on his left leg, then begins to slow. It begins to close before Thomas's very eyes, but Randall gives him little time to watch, for the wraith lunges forward to press his attack again.

"Alive or dead," the wraith promises, his blade striking forward. "You will serve my master well."

"I serve my heart and no other," Thomas replies and goes to block the blade. His clenched hand comes up to release the gathering of debris in the face of the wraith should he block the attack well enough.

Blades clash! Silver sings against silver as Randall presses forward with inexorable strength, trying to force Thomas's sword down.

Thomas'snarrow eyes look deeply into the wraith's eyes across the silvery blades. Suddenly, his free hand snaps up, releasing the collection of debris toward Randall's face.

Though clearly taken by surprise, Randall manages to draw his free hand up quickly enough to shield himself from the worst of the detritus. He falls back into a guard position. "By the Destroyer, Thomas!" he curses. "I am a Captain and Explorer, not some common street trash! Your petty tactics will get you nowhere with me."

"And I am and just myself, a man," Thomas says and presses forward into the attack, bringing both hands to grip his sword and increase the power behind the blows.

For a moment, it seems as if Thomas has actually put Randall onto the defensive, as he drives the wraith upward onto the stairs, forcing him to use a lower guard than he would normally, but there things become deadlocked. As fast and as hard as he attacks, he doesn't seem to be gaining any more ground.

Thomas'seyes narrow and he tries to shove Randall's sword away long enough to drop and try to sweep Randall's knees out from under him. "Can't use pure sword tactics. I'm out-matched if I fight his form of battle," Thomas thinks grimly.

Back next to Sir Lefallon, Redmane begins to get twitchy. "Thomas, there's no way you can beat him on your own!" she calls. "I'd have a hard time of it myself!"

Randall's sword is drawn away for a moment, but as Thomas tries the leg sweep, the captain leaps off the stairs and down onto the ground, shattering one of his old bones in the process. He comes around quickly, putting Thomas on the defensive and on the high ground instead. "Hah! Think I'm a stranger to unconventional tactics?" Randall challenges. "You will learn otherwise, friend."

The stairs are stoutly built, and every hundred feet or so, they join a wooden platform that runs around the edge of the room, leaving a hole in the middle. There are no handrails on the stairs, but a rail runs around each platform. They go up for what seems like a mile.

Thomas looks long and hard at his old friend, staying on the defensive. His eyes then flick up toward Redmane, followed by a slight nod. "Old friend, do I sense a bit of anger in you? Beyond that which the Destroyer has instilled?" Thomas inquires, watching for an opening to roundhouse kick to Randall's head.

Sir Lefallon looks away from his guard again, watching the battle for as long as he can before growling jruuh call his attention back. He looks indecisive, longing to join in the battle, but unable to do so for honor and respect of Thomas's wishes.

The battle goes hard and furiously, but at last there seems to be an opening. The raven-haired explorer strikes out... And clips empty air. Randall dodges back, then reaches up to grab at Thomas's outstretched foot.

Thomas gets an idea and brings his sword up and holds it strongly and tightens his arms. He lunges all his weight forward as Randall reaches for his foot, attempting to impale the wraith on the blade, or at the very least, use his weight to throw off Randall's balance and send him back down the stairs.

The maneuver is unsuccessful; though it is a brave attempt, in a flurry of slashing blades and tilting bodies, Thomas is lucky to escape with a scratch against his side, that pains him when he breathes, sprawled on the floor next to Randall's bones.

The bones appear largely intact save that there are several major fractures, both of the arms and the legs. There are gnaw-marks upon them, and the rags stink of jruuh. The boots stick out of them, though heavily ripped, bearing a golden hawk for the piece of armor at the top that would protect the knees. Nearly hidden beneath a fold of shredded silvery chain mail is a glint of something green and shiny. A jade brooch, with a golden hawk upon it.

Randall closes in, barely breathing at all, and that perhaps only as a remembered reflex from life. His sword stretches out, aimed down toward the sprawled explorer, and bare seconds remain before he closes to a range where he can inflict a mortal wound.

"My lord!" Sir Lefallon cries out, his attention called by the crash.

Drawing both her steel blade and the silver one, Redmane calls, "Thomas, only say the word!"

Thomas, gasping, reaches to take the brooch. "You made a promise to return and claim this," comes a thought through his mind -- even if this is the end, he will complete his promise. "I swore I would return for this," he rasps. "You were my friend. I am sorry I couldn't be there for you when you needed me most. Let the mistake not occur again." His head turns and looks weakly toward Redmane and Sir Lefallon and says with an eerie calm as his fingers close over the brooch, "Always come to the aid of your friend -- even when his stubbornness makes him a fool." His eyes close, and he falls still to wait for the inevitable.

Randall smiles briefly. "I am your friend still, Thomas. In time, you will thank me for granting you the privilege of serving the Destroyer, when he comes to his own." He walks forward again, drawing his sword up, preparing to administer a final, lethal stroke.

Rachel screams, "NO!" and launches herself from her position near the steps, trying to interpose her body between Tom's and the descending sword.

Redmane lunges forward in an attempt to block Randall's strike with her own blades!

As Rachel throws herself onto Thomas, shielding him bodily, a musical chord rings out as Redmane blocks Randall's sword with her own! "Aha! His companions deign to aid him," Randall says with a laugh as he draws himself back up into a guard, then feints at the lady knight, testing her defense. "You haven't aged a bit, Lady Redmane. Have your skills?"

Sir Lefallon abandons his guard of the entrance, rushing to the explorer's side, providing backup. "Thomas! Are you all right?" he gasps.

Using the silver-blade to parry, Redmane strikes towards the wraith's throat with steel. "I certainly hope they haven't!" she retorts.

No response from Thomas. Instead, the hand clutching the brooch pulls in tightly against his body. He looks at the brooch briefly, then struggles to get up.

While the wraith turns to engage Redmane, Rachel clumsily tries to recover herself from her harebrained dive. She pulls herself off of Tom and turns to face him. "My lord?" she whispers, then closes her eyes in relief as she see him rise.

Steel is parried, and as the wraith uses his open hand to grasp the silver blade, he uses the opening created to lunge in between the two blades. His blade licks out, striving for a mortal blow; only sharp reflexes allow Redmane to throw herself back enough to make it a rib-scratch. Randall draws back from the hazard zone between her blades, wiping ichor off his hand. "Perhaps they have, after all," he muses. "Two more champions to serve my lord will be better than one."

Sir Lefallon glances around again, wary of jruuh, then calls to the combatants. "Lady Redmane! Should I aid you in battle?"

Redmane gives some ground, trying to draw Randall away from Thomas and the others. "I'm just a little rusty is all," she says, and strikes at the wraith's head once more, while slashing at his sword-arm with her other blade. "It would be appreciated, Sir Lefallon!"

"Rachel, Sir Lefallon," Thomas says slowly and steadies himself on shaky legs. "I'm going to ask you to follow one last order," Thomas adds, then draws in a breath. "Redmane, Sir Lefallon, Rachel. If it's me he truly wants, so be it. Move on and complete our mission -- I leave the future to you. Redmane can guide you from here. Come, Randall, let us end the dance," comes the order, calm.

"He's not going to let us go for you, Thomas," Rachel says, her voice urgent. "I'd trust no bargain made with a wraith. But we cannot hope to win in a fight against him!" She glances around, desperately. "There must be something else we can do, some other answer!"

Uncannily agile, Randall seems to have reached the height of his form as he dances around Redmane's blades to leave her with another scratch. "The more, the merrier," he invites.

"Milord Thomas," Sir Lefallon says, pained. "With all due respect, I cannot follow that order." He stands, raising his sword in a salute.

Thomas looks down at the remains at his feet and debris around him.

With a growl, Redmane ducks low and tries to cut Randall's legs out from under him with two sweeping strikes.

For a change, Redmane's reflexes and instincts manage to find her an opening. Silver connects, sending him reeling and limping back, whirling his blade up to defend against a more lethal attack to come.

Thomas looks around at the rubble, deciding something. He places his hand on Rachel's shoulder and says, "Then help me. Redmane can keep him busy, or likely beat him." Then wordlessly, Thomas starts gathering fallen rubble and burying his old friend -- in a stone cairn.

Pressing her attack, the red-haired knight tries to batter the wraith's blade aside with silver, so that she can strike his head with the more deadly blade.

"Of course," Rachel answers, then blinks as she realizes what Tom is doing. "Of course!" She gathers together the bones, handling them respectfully to array them as befits a proper burial.

For a moment, it seems as if Redmane will be successful, as Randall's sword falls aside... But then as she strikes, putting force behind her blow, the wraith drops beneath the blade, and stabs upward at her belly! Sir Lefallon charges in and narrowly manages to knock the blade aside, leaving it a narrow scratch rather than a gut wound. "We have to work together," the younger knight urges. "Maybe if I can hold his blade, you can deliver that finishing strike!"

Randall spares a glance aside as he draws back into a defensive position and laughs. "A worthy attempt, but it will prove futile. Can you keep watch on all four corners of the world while moving rocks? I think not..." The rising jruuh growl underscores his words.

"Good idea," Redmane agrees, then bristles at the sound of the jruuh. "But let's be quick about it! You take his left, I'll take the right," she urges.

"Ignore the growling, Rachel," Thomas says and doesn't even falter in his work. "It's a fear tactic. Just circle the cairn as we build and scan with your eyes."

Blades sing, as the two knights press in against Randall's defense. He slowly starts to take more scratches, oozing ichor. The former Captain of April, leader of Explorers, takes on a dark look in his face as he is pressed back to the stairs. "Two against one? The Destroyer would approve," he challenges.

"It's two against zero," Redmane claims. "The dead don't count!" She tries again to disable Randall's sword-arm when he attempts to block Sir Lefallon's next attack.

As Rachel and Tom work to build a low wall of stones, the hair on the back of the explorer's neck prickles suddenly as he senses a presence close by him. The raven-haired girl tries to mirror Tom's composure, her eyes darting alertly from side to side as she works on the opposite side from him. She catches a glimpse of something moving behind Tom's back, and she lurches to one side, craning her neck to get a better look. The half-glimpsed jruuh panics and disappears out the passageway they had entered through.

With cagey timing, Redmane's steel sword licks out to slash against Randall's arm. The wraith cries out in pain as smoke curls upward, and for a moment as he retreats hurriedly up the stairs, it seems as if he might have been permanently incapacitated... But then he switches sword-hands and takes up the guard once again. "Luckily, I trained with both hands," he observes grimly.

Thomas glances toward Rachel and nods with a small smile. "Thank you. Good idea, try to always stay facing toward me, and I you. We can observe behind the other and keep them away," Thomas says, continuing his work on the cairn and trying to block out the sounds of combat now above.

"What an amazing coincidence," Redmane notes as she pursues the monster up the stairs, slashing at Randall's legs again to try and topple him.

The cairn starts to look more substantial. It is hard and scary work, when one must always keep an eye out for the jruuh, but it progresses nevertheless. Perhaps another minute or so will see it done.

A carefully aimed strike that proves the rust has been cleaned off of Redmane's skills sends Randall toppling forward... And the young knight at Redmane's side seizes the opportunity, piercing the wraith through the heart! At first it seems that the battle has been won, as Randall opens his mouth to belch for ichor that corrodes upon Sir Lefallon's chainmail, and begins to evaporate away...

But there is still a spectral chill to the stairwell, and Thomas feels someone standing close to him suddenly.

Thomas turns slowly, green eyes searching. "Rachel, be wary," he says, starting to draw back into an unarmed defensive stance.

"We have to fend off the jruuh," Redmane says to Sir Lefallon after clapping him on the shoulder. She then turns and hurries back down the stairs.

Though she nods to Tom, Rachel continues her work on the cairn diligently, with renewed vigor.

Where Sir Lefallon was holding up his body, there is nothing, even the ichor melting away. Randall's wraith has reformed, so ghostly that one could see through him quite easily, and stands at the head of his own body and cairn, and thin lines of vapor rise from it to curl about his legs, giving him color and substance.

He draws his sword up in an as-yet insubstantial salute. "Almost done with my cairn, I see. All you'll need then will be the last rites." His lips curve up into a sardonic grin. "It isn't often that the honoree gets to speak at his own funeral. Let my epitaph be, 'He died once as jruuh food, but the second time he died as a lion.'"

Sir Lefallon nods to Redmane, then looks down with horror to see Randall's reforming body. Without a word, he hurries back down the stairs.

Thomas shakes his head. "In life, always true to his duty. He sacrificed himself for the good of the many and no amount of praise can do justice for the memory of a man gone. May he find peace at last and always be remembered for the man he was," he refutes and offers a sad smile. "I will never forget you."

As Thomas speaks, Rachel gathers the last stones for the mound. She arranges the final piece atop the sadly small cairn, sealing the bones inside. "May the good lord have mercy on your soul, Randall of the Golden Hawks," she says, softly, looking at the cairn, and not the wraith. "May you have everlasting peace."

That last, tiny stone brings the stairwell to utter silence. Even the jruuh have quieted, and then after a slow second, they whine, retreating back down the passage, up the stairs. Wisps stop trailing up to Randall's legs; he begins to fade away again, and his sword-hand drops down, letting the rapier fall into nothingness.

Sir Lefallon stops short, then bows his head in respect. "Amen," he echoes.

After the jruuh have fled, Redmane sheaths her silver sword and salutes the cairn with her steel one. "Rest well, Randall. You've earned it."

"A caution I have for you, old friend," the ghost of Randall says, his hand reaching out to Thomas's, his form wavering, fog-like. There is not long before he will be entirely vanished. "There is a gargoyle's head at the top of the stairs. Twist it, and the steps will lock into place partway beneath it. If you do not, well, you will discover firsthand how I fell." He smiles sadly, gaze falling upon the tiny brooch. "I never doubted you'd make good on your promise, Thomas. Only how many Years it would be 'til you returned, and conquered the Destroyer's Keep in the bargain."

"I wish you could still be by my side, instead of just in my memory. You were always a good friend," Thomas replies, his tattered gloved hand brushing into the fading fog of Randall's. Then with a glance toward Redmane, Rachel, and Sir Lefallon he adds with a tired smile, "But then, I have always been blessed by the company of good friends. I thank the Lord for that."

"Yes. Thanks to all of you. It is a debt I can never repay," Randall echoes, his voice far away. A breathless pause, and then he speaks again. "The brooch. Pass it on to a new Explorer, Thomas. From hand to hand, old guard to new..."

And then he is gone.

"We should move quickly," Redmane suggests quietly. "There's no telling how long the jruuh will keep at bay."

Sir Lefallon lifts his sword by the blade, forming a cross. "Rest in peace, Captain," he says. His eyes turn toward Thomas, as he takes his blade up and replaces it in its sheath, concerned.

Thomas affixes the brooch to the torn collar of his cloak silently. "That I will," Thomas promises, " ... when the time comes. I think I have roads yet ahead of me." Thomas then retrieves his battered sword and sheaths it, saying, "Agreed. Lets leave the jruuh behind, then make camp for a few hours. All of us need the rest. The real challenge is still ahead -- the Keep."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.