Waywardly Wicked: Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“I’ve heard tell of your men complaining about rigged card games once again, Tomas,” Matthias Richter sighed as he addressed the bumbling sergeant-at-arms.

“Aw now don’t be believin’ the belly-achin’ of those money grubbing low-lives, Warden. I run a tight ship here an’ it’s been smooth sailing beyond a few sour sports that came to their post drunk and I had to garnish their wages for it.”

The pompous, eternally overdressed nobleman retrieved his pet snow owl from its cage and caressed the bird’s head, hardly listening to the man.

“If I’m to ever get out of this Mitra-forsaken station, I need to know I can count on you to keep things in order. Honestly, Tomas, the men said you let the prisoners have private time with a visitor? Is this more “belly-aching” or are you truly growing lax?”

The mention of the enchanting woman who had come to Branderscar made the corrupt sergeant pause as he tried to remember virtually anything about the remarkable woman and her visit but he found that he had nearly no memory of the event to speak of.

“…Yes,” he responded at last, attempting to be as convincing as possible, “We did have a fine lookin’ lass wander into the prison, but she was turned away at the gates.”

The white-haired warden simply shook his head and conceded, “Fine. That is all. Return to your post, Tomas.”

With a quick salute, the overweight watch captain left the warden’s quarters at the top of his tower and marched back down the steps with a sigh of relief. In his brief moment of satisfaction, he failed to notice the door nearby being slightly ajar with a pair of eyes staring intently, absorbing the entire conversation.

“So, the Warden doesn’t realize, or care to realize, how badly the sergeant is robbing the place,” Cirano whispered to the group in their hidden alcove just outside the warden’s office.

“Great,” Furr replied, “Who cares?”

The wizard glared at the Halfling but chose to direct his attention to M instead.

“If you could use your charms on the man, we could take advantage of him while he is under your enchantment. Potentially turning him against the watch captain and the other guards would be a surefire method to getting us out of here after we acquire a map of the nearby lands from his office. “

“I’m not certain it will work on him,” M said tentatively, “I’ve only used it against those who do not practice magic themselves previously.”

“Sounds risky,” Ryahl added, “And we left the ogre in the kitchens, so we’ll be at a disadvantage if things do not go smoothly.”

“Look, we’re armed and armored now,” Furr cut in, “I vote we just go in there, cut the self-righteous pig down and ask permission from his body on taking whatever we need from the damned office.”

“I like that plan,” Barriddon said with a massive grin, the dwarven rogue behind him shared the same maliciously gleeful expression.

“We’re not trying to murder the man,” M said assertively.

“What are they going to do,” Furr quipped, “Re-sentence us to death?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Look, let’s just roll the dice on M’s powers and hope for—“

In that moment, the office door opened and the warden stepped out, carrying a book in his hands as he began to descend to the library on the floor directly below. As he disappeared from sight, Cirano quickly waved everyone forward and clamored into the warden’s office.

“Well, whaddya know,” Barriddon scoffed, examining the richly adorned office space,” just as pompous as the rest of him.”

“Please keep an eye out on the hall, orcling. If the warden returns, it’s not going to be an enjoyable time for any of us,” the old wizard quietly ordered.

Barriddon chuckled deeply, “I think our definitions of enjoyment greatly differ, but fine, I’ll keep watch.”

The room was ornately decorated, far more so than any other area in the prison. Furr and Red had already begun ransacking the neat oaken desk, tossing papers left and right as they scoured it for anything of use. The dwarf located a locked drawer and pulled a set of iron filings from his pocket, bringing them up to the lock carefully.

“Where did you get those,” Cirano commented with enthused curiosity.

Red offered a toothy grin and pointed to the bag of spell components hanging from the old wizard’s hip before turning his attention back to the lock.

“No honor among thieves, I suppose,” Cirano sighed half-heartedly, drawing a giggle from M.

No sooner did the words leave his mouth than the lock on the desk drawer give way with a soft click.

“Really,” Furr blurted out, “You break into the lock on the warden’s personal damned desk using a toothpick and a spring in a split second but the rusted ass manacles in the cell took you a bleeding hour?”

The entire room attempted to shush the overexcited Halfling, though the dwarf merely offered his, at this point, signature rude gesture before opening the drawer. He quickly pulled out a folded parchment, and upon recognition passed it to the wizard.

“This is it, excellent job, dwarf,” he smiled, examining the folded map of the swamplands surrounding the prison, “With this, our escape is a reality.”

The rogue prodded the man with one additional item from the desk, a gilded blue tome. The dwarf made a gesture that seemed to suggest that the item made him dizzy from merely looking at it. M stood next to Cirano as he opened it, revealing the numerous arcane runes and text.

“It’s Warden Richter’s spell book…”

“Yes, and I’d like it back,” a familiar voice from behind them shook them to their core.

They turned to see the eye-patch wearing silver haired warden in the doorway standing above Barriddon’s unconscious form.

“Quickly, kill him no—,” Furr exclaimed but suddenly her cry became a yawn as she fell to the floor face-first.

The entire group jumped to prepare to attack the man but found that their actions were slowed and their eyes became weary. They dropped like flies, collapsing to the ground, unable to muster the strength even to stand.

With the notable exception of M.

“Ah, that’s right,” the warden sighed, “Your paperwork did say you had some elf-blood in your family. Such a troublesome species… I never did care for their reveries, can’t trust someone who doesn’t snore when they rest, hah.”

Her eyes burned brightly as she circled the room, keeping pace with the man as they sized one another up.

“Surrender now,” he commanded, “I’ll see to it that your execution is swift and painless.”

“No.”

“You’re no match for me, girl. Take this opportunity to accept your fate and be done with this little charade.”

She was now by the door and subtly kicked backwards, lightly thumping the unconscious Barriddon in the chin.

“You realize if you don’t surrender, I’m just going to kill you in the name of self-defense, correct? I believe you’re at least that intelligent.”

She rolled her eyes in agitation, “I’ve heard enough.”

M fell into the throes of spellcasting, her arms and hands waving as an orb of magical energy launched from her hands at the pompous warden. The older man was surprised as the orb stung him in the chest before he returned fire with two bolts of his own. M acted swiftly, generating a small pale blue ethereal shield that spun about her rapidly, catching both of the missiles, causing them to fizzle out into nothingness.

They rotated about the room, continuing their deadly dance, sparks leaping from their respective mystical shields and the gravity of their struggle shaking the room. The pair each launched a ray of frost from their hands, intent upon freezing their opponent solid. Richter’s magical presence was notably more potent as he slowly closed the distance on the dark-haired sorceress.

“You should have listened, girl,” he shouted over the din of battle.

She could feel her fingers and hands begin to go numb as the center of the frozen beam neared her position. Her lips began to crack and her eyes stung as a layer of frost began to overpower her senses.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay at Branderscar,” he said smugly as he neared to deliver the killing blow.

The young sorceress braced for the end, knowing she had done everything she could to grasp onto life. She was sad that she would never see her mother again, sad that she would never return to their home in Ghastenhall and make a quiet life of her own. Her eyes attempted to water but she found she could not muster even that.

The final blow never came however, and her eyes widened not nearly as greatly as those of the warden whose chest now sported a large metallic protrusion in the form of Barridon’s trident.

“Actually,” the half-orc said smugly, “We have a few complaints about your services.”

With one fluid motion and with unbelievable strength, the half-orc hoisted the man upwards while impaled on the trident and slammed him into the wall before his longsword was unsheathed and beheaded the pompous man in short order.

M shivered as Ryahl draped another robe from the warden’s wardrobe across her shoulders. She offered an appreciative smile before pulling the garments tighter for warmth.

“You certainly are more than what meets the eyes,” the blonde-haired man said with a grin.

“We got lucky,” Furr said, still shaking off the grogginess from the warden’s spell that had put them to sleep.

“Indeed,” the aged wizard said from a seated position, “were it not for your elven blood and talent in the Art, our journey would’ve abruptly ended then and there.”

“B-Barriddon did m-most of the work,” she stuttered, looking to the half-orc who was busy attempting to remove his weapon from the grisly scene on the wall.

“Bah,” he grunted in frustration, leaving the trident embedded in the stone, “Don’t sell yourself short. I wouldn’t even have been able to get up if you hadn’t given me that love tap on the chin. Speaking of, that may just leave a nasty bruise.”

“Be thankful that’s all you received out of this little exchange,” Cirano said quickly before turning his attention back to the young sorceress on the floor, “We need to move as soon as you are able. No doubt there was at least one person to hear the commotion of your struggle with the warden.”

M forced her muscles to cooperate as she managed to stand, still holding the robes closely to her form.

“I can… I can move,” she took one last look at the lifeless body of the warden, “Let’s just… get out of here already.”

As the group exited the tower and reached the courtyard, they were shocked when they spotted Grumblejack the ogre out in the open. The ten foot tall monster was hardly subtle and was busy slamming a truly unfortunate patrol guard repeatedly into a nearby wall.

“Grumblejack! Stop,” Furr commanded in a hushed tone, causing the giant-kin to immediately halt his ministrations on the poor man.

“Sorry master! Grumblejack was hiddin’ like master said but this little un’ saw Grumblejack while he was hiddin’! Had to make him stop from making that loud noise!”

“Loud noise…,” Cirano repeated with sheer dread quickly being written across his wizened face.

“Dear gods, the signal horn,” he pointed to the crumpled instrument on the guard’s hip, “Quickly, to the gatehouse! We must hurry!”

More and more alarms were raised as the group began a mad dash towards the gatehouse. M’s joints still ached vigorously from the freezing touch of the Warden’s magical frost but she forced herself forward, knowing that any further delay might cost them their lives. They burst through the door from the courtyard and Barriddon howled as he charged forward and slammed a surprised guard into the wall with his shield, where he crumpled to the floor.

“We need to open the gate from above,” Cirano shouted desperately, pointing to the second floor.

Before the words even left the wizard’s lips, the snarky Halfling had climbed onto the ogre’s shoulders and tossed an overly exaggerated salute the man’s way before the odd pair rushed upstairs, the beast making what seemed ten strides with each gargantuan step. Wasting no time, the others tore open the door and dove inside, hearing the approach of weighted boots and the calls of men from the ramparts. The group suddenly felt on edge, as to their surprise the large room was dark, much darker than a receiving hall of a gatehouse should have been. The only true light that appeared happened to be that of the inviting moonlight peeking through the portcullis barring their path to freedom.

“Well I’ll be damned,” an agonizingly familiar voice echoed from the upper floor, “Ya did have some fight in ya after all didn’tcha, pig-nose?”

They all looked upward to see the menacing face of Sergeant Blackerly staring down at them with a devious grin as he stood flanked by at least a half dozen archers . In moments, another squadron of guards appeared from the door on the other side of the chamber and one more from the hall they had originated.

“Well, I did say I would pay you a visit before the executioner set me aflame, didn’t I,” Barriddon said defiantly, despite his muscles tensing and nerves begging for relief.

The corrupt sergeant laughed aloud, slapping his knee before composing himself again.

“Yer right! Ya did! I’m glad yer a man o’ yer word after all! So, I don’t suppose ya have any last words afore me an mine fill ya with so many arra’s that yer arse can serve as a sponge, now do ya?”

“I’d rather we avoid further violence. You should get out of our way if you want to live,” M said, surprising all present.

“An’ why is that lass? Do ya not see that yer trapped, outmaneuvered an’ soon ta be outnumbered? Honestly, when Warden Richter gets here, e’ll just put the lot o’ ya down without a second thought.”

“There’s something tragic, and yet morbidly hilarious you should know regarding that,” Ryahl said quietly, drawing a chuckle from Barriddon and a silent laugh from the mute dwarf.

“We’ve got a full damned garrison, ‘ere! Lay down yer weapons an’ get back in yer cells! I’m warni—“

A thunderous rumble was heard on the second floor, causing all the gathered forces, including the talkative Sergeant to spin about and address the massive creature that had just come crashing through the third floor ceiling and the wild-eyed Halfling woman on its shoulders, cackling with glee.

“Hahaha! Yeah?! Well we’ve got a Grumblejack!”

With that, the mighty ogre wielding a support beam he had evidently tore free from the third floor, swung with tremendous strength, sweeping all the archers and Blackerly from their protective balcony and onto the ground floor below. The sergeant was one of the lucky few that appeared to avoid serious injury from the impact but as he viewed his now dire situation of being face-to-face with these deadly prisoners and the juggernaut of an ogre that had just landed to his side, he understood his safety was only a relative matter.

“What’re ya bloddy idiots waitin’ for,” he called to the squadrons on either side of the hall, “Kill them!”

The battle was joined immediately, as Barriddon rushed forward, nearly hewing the unprepared Blackerly in twain, had it not been for a lucky shot by a nearby bowman requiring the rampaging half-orc to adjust his charge. His blade clashed against the older man’s weapon with a grating hiss but Blackerly was no stranger to martial struggles despite his well-fed exterior as he expertly altered his stance and regained his footing.

M quickly fell into the throes of spellcasting, alongside Cirano, the pair caused chaos among the guards’ ranks by confusing many of them into attacking their allies and disrupting their battle formation. Ryahl and Red provided the protection those two required by driving away any who attempted to interfere with their spellcasting with a well-placed crossbow bolt.

Though they had gained the upper hand, most of the escapees knew that they wouldn’t be able to maintain this pace forever, as magic had its limits just as minor wounds and injuries began to take their toll.

“Furr, open the gates,” Cirano called out to the Halfling who was still struggling with the mechanism on the second floor.

“I’m trying! It’s stuck… or too heavy! Hell, I don’t know,” she shouted back.

Without words, for he had none to begin with, the dwarf named Red strapped his crossbow across his back and leaped onto Grumblejack’s still-swinging arms as they grasped a poor man and sent him flying into two others, deftly climbing the beast’s muscular frame and jumped with all his might to dive into a roll, arriving on the second floor in a barely-balanced tumble.

“That was almost impressive.”

The ever-snarky Halfling jeered to which the dwarf’s only response was a visible shrug as he rushed to her side. The pair heaved and the portcullis mechanism began to clank and clatter as it lifted from the dirt.

“No! Yer never leavin’ ‘ere ali—“ Blackerly shouted above the clamor of battle.

His divided attention cost him, as Barriddon slammed his shield into the man’s face, causing him to stagger backwards. Before the salt-and-pepper haired sergeant could recover, he glanced downward, his eyes attempting to confirm that the piercing sensation he felt in his abdomen was real as the half-orc’s blade had found the seam in his armor, jamming through his heart.

“Asmodeus has bigger plans for me than to rot in this hole,” Barriddon said as he locked eyes with the sergeant who still remained in disbelief, “You, on the other hand, spent your life here so it’s only fitting that you die here as well.”

In one flourish, the half-orc twisted his blade and tore it free before spinning it back around and finishing the veteran soldier. He looked to the open gate and called out to the rest of the group.

“Go! Go! Let’s go! Destiny awaits!”