Blood (Aliyah 6)

[Mikayla]

My thanks to HEEGZ, the DM for this session. My thanks also to the crew, kiyoti (Ali’Hussein), Duncan (Rain) and Aitana (Nisha). Thanks also to Loulabelle (Kori).

This story is incomplete in several respects; there are things I don't want to reveal yet in stories for various reasons. This is true of past stories as well. When the time is right (perhaps), I will go back and fill in the missing details as I can. For now, this will have to do.



Blood.


“Aliyah, would you do the honors?” Asked Ali’Hussein.

It was just after dawn and the crew was on a road outside of Baldur’s Gate. They had been hired by the Iron Throne to kill a band of swords believed responsible for raiding Iron Throne caravans. Nisha, the crew’s best speaker, had negotiated the contract and it was certainly the best paying job the crew had undertaken in a long time. Iron Throne spies had located the swords’ camp and now, Rain, Ali’Hussein, Nisha and Aliyah were moving in on that camp.

“Sure.” Aliyah replied to Ali’Hussein. She stepped down into a drainage ditch that ran alongside the road and began creeping forward. Opposite the road, a thick, nigh impenetrable hedge-row ran along the ditch. It was good cover for the approach. Aliyah stepped carefully and hoped her elven cloak would do its job.

*****************************

“What do you want with me?” Aliyah asked.

Across the chamber, the half-elf woman that Aliyah knew as Kori leaned against a wall and smiled. “What do you have to offer?”

A wry grin crossed Aliyah’s face. You want to play games eh? Aliyah thought. Alirght, I’ll play. You might be better at these games than me, but all I’ve got to lose is my life. And hell, I’m dead already or so I’ve been told. “I think that is exactly my question.” Aliyah answered. “What is it that I have that you want? It is obviously not sex; you have your own whores, and they're prettier than me. What do I have to offer you?”

******************************

On the road outside of Baldur’s Gate, Aliyah’s cloak did it’s job. She scouted the camp and returned to the others, completely unseen by the enemy.

“Semi-circular camp up ahead, left side of the road.” She reported. “Two men on guard, near the road. The rest are awake and having breakfast. Can’t tell how many others there are. Two at least, maybe more. Two small red pup tents, one larger green tent. One horse, unsaddled. All the men are wearing black armor with some sort of markings.” Aliyah had no way to know the sigil borne on the black armor was that of the Zhentarim.

Rain looked down the road. “Can you sneak up on one and put an arrow in him? Draw the other guard down the road to us?”

Aliyah glanced back towards the enemy camp. “Sure.” She said simply. What was the worst that could happen? Death? That happens to everyone. Nothing to lose really.

Ali’Hussein was visibly excited. “Do you feel comfortable doing this?” He asked. Ali was Aliyah’s mentor at scouting. This was the kind of thing Ali’Hussein could do in his sleep, but Aliyah had far less practice. She appreciated both his concern and his tutelage.

“Sure.” She nodded. Turning from the others she slipped back down into the ditch and snuck up on the Zhent camp again. The two guards were chasing a chicken around the camp. Apparently their breakfast was trying to get away. Aliyah had to stifle a laugh; the black armored warriors looked ridiculous running around, arms outstretched, chasing a hen around a campfire. The chase ended soon enough, however, and the two guards walked back toward their posts by the road, smiling and laughing. Aliyah notched an arrow and drew it halfway back.

The guards stopped short of their original positions near the road. Instead, they stood in an open area between the tents and the ditch. Aliyah was too far to accurately place a shot between a gap in their armor, and there was nothing between her and the guards to hide behind. She tried creeping up and around the stone farmhouse on the flank, but that approach was also too open. She would have to take her shot from the ditch. She raised her arm, keeping the bow horizontal so it would not be so easy to spot, and began drawing the bowstring back.

***********************

“What do you want?” Kori asked, turning the tables on Aliyah.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you want out of life?” Asked the Half-Elf. “Do you want to walk the path lined with riches?”

Aliyah considered this. It sounded like something she should want, but riches never really fascinated her the way they fascinated other people. Riches were a means to an end, not an end to themselves, at least as far as Aliyah was concerned. Riches bought brandy, ale, opium and warm beds in comfortable inns. But what else was gold good for? You can’t eat it, you can’t drink it, you can’t fight with it or f*ck it. You can buy a lot of things, but not the things that matter, like experience and accomplishments. No, riches were not Aliyah’s goal in life.

“Do you want to walk the path lined with outstretched hands?” Kori asked.

It took a moment for Aliyah to understand. This was the path of fame; the path of applause and adulation. Hero worship and fans; popularity.

F*ck that. Aliyah thought. Leave that to the pretty, silk-wrapped girls like Nisha and Kori. I might be pretty, maybe even beautiful when I clean up, but I’m a gutter-rat now and I don’t want anyone ever knowing who I really am, where I come from or even that I ever lived. She thought about the galley massacre and the fate of the B*tch’s Due. The moment the B*tch’s Due earned fame was the same moment the Syl-Pasha sealed its fate. In this world, the world of pirates, cutthroats, thieves and murderers, fame just gets you killed. Infamy might be acceptable, but only so long as its confined to the underworld; the moment that so called "nobles" learn your name and link it to fell deeds is the moment they begin to fear you. And what the nobles fear, they arrest and execute. Anonymity is better.

It was obvious that Aliyah did not accept either of the first two options. So, Kori presented a third. “Do you want to walk the path lined with blood?”

************************************

Aliyah’s eyes narrowed as she drew the bowstring back. Before she could over think it, the arrow was loose. It struck the closest guard in the shoulder and spun him around. A hard hit, Aliyah thought, but not fatal. The second guard retrieved a crossbow as Aliyah was drawing her next arrow. His bolt was loose before Aliyah could fire; the steel tip ripped through the leather on Aliyah’s right arm, tearing a long gash across her bicep. Aliyah side stepped for cover behind the hedge-row and then sprinted back down the ditch. As she ran she realized the ditch would not provide any cover once the enemy advanced out of their camp; indeed, it would become a shooting gallery for them. So Aliyah scrambled out of the ditch, headed towards the far side of the road. More bolts flew. One grazed her, tearing another bloody laceration across her skin. Aliyah jumped into farside ditch as more bolts streaked by overhead.

She could hear Ali and Rain yelling, and heard the distinctive twang of Nisha’s crossbow. There was yelling from the enemy; Nisha’s bolt must have struck home. Beautiful and deadly. It just made Aliyah want Nisha more. Peering up out of the ditch, Aliyah could see that there were at least four men at the entrance to the camp, all loading and firing crossbows. Aliyah was bleeding though, and too far from Ali for a healing spell. She reached into her satchel and drew out a potion vial. Flicking the stopper off with her thumb, she downed the potion in a gulp. She drew an arrow, stood, turned and loosed the shaft, but the shot went over the target's head.

On the far side of the road Nisha fell. Her bolts had been answered by the enemy’s bolts several times over. Panic shot through Aliyah. Fight the enemy? Save Nisha? Aliyah loosed another arrow, this one finding home in black armor and pink flesh. Aliyah spared a glance across the road, but she could no longer see Nisha; the wounded bard must have gone down in the ditch. Ali was casting spells and loosing stones from his sling. Aliyah was already drawing another arrow when a bolt struck her in the ribs. It was a solid hit. She staggered backwards in shock, staring at the protruding shaft. F*ck!. Instinctively, she tore at it with her hands. She nearly passed out from pain when the bolt came free, but she was lucky; distance, boiled leather and her rib-cage had stopped the bolt from a fatal penetration. Still, Aliyah was badly wounded, and there was no way she was getting across that road to save Nisha through all that fire.

As if reading Aliyah’s mind, Rain began yelling from across the road. “I've got Nisha, I’ve got Nisha!” Rain was up and moving, heedless of the withering fire from the Zhent crossbowman. Several bolts were already sticking out of Rain’s armor like a porcupine’s quills but he did not stop or even slow. Go Rain, go! Aliyah thought, glad once again the big genasi was on her side. He might not talk much and he might have a prickly ego, but gods did that boy have balls of steel. “Let your cat go!” Rain yelled to Ali as he ran by. “Let her go!”

“She’s going, she’s going!” Ali snarled in reply. Bounding down the road towards the Zhents was a beautiful, sleek panther, as black as midnight. The Zhent’s saw her coming and their leader drew his blade to meet the onrushing cat.

As the panther entered the fray, Aliyah downed her second and last healing potion as fast as she could and drew another arrow from her quiver. Standing quickly, she pulled back the string on her bow, paused just a second to aim, and let the shaft fly. This one struck another Zhent, but once again, not a fatal blow.

On the far side of the road, Rain was rising up, wounded, but still moving. Nisha was rolling to her knees, wounded but still alive. Ali’s panther was fighting ferociously, clawing and biting at the Zhent men-at-arms, but their leader stepped up to attack the big cat fearlessly. Rain dropped the empty potion vial he had given Nisha, gripped his greatsword with both hands, and charged.

White hair flying, armor shining, blade swinging - it was an awesome sight that gave Aliyah chills. Rain’s father would be proud, Aliyah thought. The Zhent leader, however, did not back down. The veteran Zhent warrior side-stepped Rain’s charge and Rain was suddenly in the midst of a furious melee between the Zhents, the panther and himself. Rain fought hard, and his blade quickly brought down one of the Zhents, but the Zhent leader and his men pressed the attack relentlessly.

F*ck this. Aliyah thought, dropping her bow and drawing her sword. She sprinted across the road, blade in hand. It was not the awesome armored charge of Rain, but a quieter, more careful approach. The first Zhent she came across was on the periphery of the melee, looking for an opportunity. He failed to see Aliyah coming and paid for it with his life as she cut through the artery in his neck. Even as the man fell, Aliyah was moving again. She jumped down into the ditch where Rain was now trading blows with the Zhentarim sergeant. There was no way to simply cut the man’s throat like the other Zhent, so Aliyah stepped in behind the whirling combat and thrust her sword through a gap in the man’s armor, wounding him at the hip.

Enraged, the sergeant whirled on Aliyah, lashing out with his heavy blade. Aliyah ducked and stepped back, narrowly avoiding decapitation. Rain took full advantage of the moment and brought his sword crashing down on the sergeant’s back. The black armor took the brunt of the blow, however, and the man turned on Rain again. Aliyah moved in faster this time, thrusting her sword through the lightly protected gap at the sergeant’s armpit. The thrust was fatal. The sergeant’s eyes went wide and he coughed up blood. Aliyah put a foot on the man’s hip, and kicked his dying body off her blade.

By the time the sergeant fell into the bloody muck of the drainage ditch, the remaining Zhent crossbowmen were down thanks to Ali’s stones, Nisha’s bolts and the panther. Five black-armored Zhents were dead, while all the crew had survived. The battle was over.

One Zhent was still alive, however, cowering behind a tent. He disarmed when Aliyah pointed her bow at him. But the moment Aliyah lowered her bow and drew her blade, the man was off and running like a shot. As fast as he ran, Nisha’s crossbow bolt flew faster. The wounded man hobbled down the road but there was no escaping Rain and the panther; the two made short work of the coward.

Rain set to work searching the bodies and collecting pinkies from each of the dead men for proof to the Iron Throne the job was done.

“I still need a head.” Nisha said, as she watched Rain work. The Iron Throne asked for proof of the kills. Rain offered to bring back pinky fingers, which the Iron Throne representative was prepared to accept. Nisha, however, wanted to offer proof that was a bit more … conclusive. She said she would bring back a head, and she meant it.

Aliyah reached around to the small of her back and gripped the hilt of her killing-knife. Most people would call it a short-sword, but Aliyah thought of it as just a very big knife. It had a heavy, double-edged leaf-shaped blade and it could be used for both thrusting and slashing. Of all her weapons, it was probably her favorite. She drew the blade out from behind her back and set to work hacking the head off one of the Zhents. It took a bit of work, but the head eventually came free.

She held it up by the hair for Nisha to see. “Will this do?”

Nisha smiled and said that it would do fine. Aliyah bagged the head and gave it to Nisha. Using the blood from the blade of the killing-knife, Aliyah painted two bloody stripes on her face.

Ali’Hussein watched Aliyah with a bemussed look while Rain packed the bodies into an old, giant wooden crate by the abandoned farmhouse.

“Praise be to Malar, and all that.” Aliyah said to Ali.

He smiled a feral grin. “Yes, praise to Malar and praise be to ALL that.”

A half-hour later the crew was down the road on their way home when Aliyah suddenly realized she had killed her first actual person; her first human kill. Two of them in fact. She had killed goblins and kobolds, gnolls and orcs, bugbears and lizard-folk, but never an actual person before. Suddenly she was filled with regret.

She should have cut their hearts out and eaten them.

*************

Aliyah stared into Kori’s eyes for a moment, considering her question. “Blood.” She said finally. “It’s the path of blood.” She supposed that was probably an obvious answer, but Aliyah had never really admitted it to herself before. She was what she had always said she despised; a killer. Not a brutal warrior like Rain or a feral hunter like Ali. Not even a poison flower like Nisha. Just a quiet knife in the dark, looking for blood. So be it.

[kiyoti]

Holy Crap! Damn you make it all sound so cool!
Keep them coming!

[Mikayla]

Well, it WAS pretty cool. Granted, during the actual fight, I had a couple of moments of terror - when I saw Nisha go down was one, and when I realized I was down to 4 hp was another.

But hey, we rolled up on the Zhents, got in a vicious fire-fight with them, realized we were losing that firefight, and then rushed the bastards and killed them. All in less time than it took me to type out this post. I'd say it was pretty cool.

[HEEGZ]

This was a great read, and a nice change in perspective for me.