The Chronicles of Merick -- part I

[Rockstar]

CHAPTER 3
ACT IV
The Red Wizard Revealed

Merick walked through Beregost surprisingly only experiencing moderate irritation from the stab wound he had sustained in his last dual. Merick headed for the most likely Inn that Tarzok’s messenger, Tranzig, would be staying in, Fieldpost’s Inn. This was the Inn where he had broken the jaw of that cocky bar fly so Merick hoped he wouldn’t be waylaid in his time here. His mission was a simple one. He was to find the messenger who commuted between Mulahey in Nashkel and Tarzok, and find some clue as to who this Tarzok was and where he could be found.

Merick was nearly at the Inn when a small boy approached him. “Sir. Um, excuse me. Are you Merick the dwarf?” Merick looked around and saw that this was not a trap before replying, “Who wants to know?” The boy spoke up, “An Officer Vai wants to talk to you. She’s from the Flaming Fist but she said you need not be afraid, sir. She said she is willing to ignore your charges for now in exchange for some work.” Merick's public execution of the Mayor of Nashkel had gotten himself entwined with the Flaming Fist. The Flaming Fist were based in the great city of Baldur’s Gate and were the most well armed and elite law enforcers along The Sword Coast and stood above all other law enforcement that existed. Regardless, Merick worked for nobody, especially not law enforcers, and he told the child, “You will tell the Flaming Fist Officer Vai that you have not seen me this day… wont you?” Merick stroked the handle of his sword. The boy started to shake. “Yes. Yes sir. I wont – wont tell her a thing.” The boy cautiously stepped away before running down the street. Merick heard a voice behind him that somehow sounded familiar, “You should not be so harsh towards children.”

Merick turned around to see the red wizard that he had seen outside the front of the Friendly Arm Inn. His heavy white beard and long red robes blew in the wind. The last time he only spoke in riddles to Merick when Merick was not a mindset to listen. Merick sensed that there was something of significance about this wizard and approached him to speak to him. The wizard spoke first. “I am Elminster, and I knew your father, Gorion.” His words did not spark the desired reaction in Merick as he heard the reply “Tell me what you have come to say, no more.” Elminster’s friendly glow turned to one of impatience from Merick’s rudeness as he explained, “Merick, your hatred and lust for power can change. You have predatory instincts inside of you, stronger than any other, but they can be over turned. You must listen to –“ Merick yelled at the wizard. “I will do whatever I like and claim whatever power that belongs to me! You cannot tell me how to live my life just because you knew my father.” Merick stormed off away from the sage and entered Fieldpost’s Inn. Elminster called out to Merick, “Follow the clues and the answers shall present themselves!”

The second Merick walked in, Marl, the bar brawler who’s jaw Merick broke, stood up and started to advance towards Merick. Merick was not in the mood after his conversation with Elminster, and drew the throwing axe from his belt and hurled it at Marl. Merick was surprised again as the axe sailed perfectly through the air and planted itself in Marl’s face. People in the tables nearby screamed and scurried away from Marl, who hit the floor hard, dead. Merick walked to the bar tender and asked. “Tranzig. A man named Tranzig.” The bar tender said wide eyed, “S-second floor, first door on the right…” He looked at the body on the floor. Merick smiled in jest. “I don’t think he’ll cause you no more trouble.” Merick walked up to the corpse, removed his axe and then cleaned his boots on it before making his way upstairs. Merick lifted up his armor to check on his stab wound. To his amazement, the stab wound had healed up and now seemed to be a mere flesh wound on both sides. Merick walked up the stairs, saw the first door on the right and kicked it in.

[ 04-14-2007, 10:06 PM: Message edited by: Rockstar ]

[Rockstar]

CHAPTER 3
ACT V
Tarzok’s Messenger

Merick was still holding his throwing axe in his hand as the door flew open. He walked inside to find when he saw a scruffy man with knotted hair, wearing tattered green robes frantically packing his things into a backpack. The man turned around yelled at his intruder. “Get out! You can have this room in a minute.” Merick replied bitterly. “Keep the room. I want answers, Tranzig.” The man turned out to be a mage with some skill. He began to cast a blue ball of energy between his hands. Merick threw his axe at the mage, but Tranzig used his ball of energy to raise a small, blue, circular field between his hands that blocked the attack. Merick drew his sword and charged. Tranzig cast a red globe of energy then concentrated it at Merick as a thin jet of fire, similar to the effect of Merick’s ring. Merick tried to stop the fire with his sword but the sword flew from his hand and the fire scorched his right arm. Tranzig went to cast another red ball of energy but Merick was quick enough to run up to him and punch him hard in the face. Tranzig’s red ball of energy flew into the air and dissipated into sparks and dust as he fell back into the wall. The mage’s nose and mouth were pouring out blood and before he could regain his stance. Merick slammed him hard against the wall. The man grunted from the impact. Merick saw a dagger on the mage’s hip. Merick held the slouching man’s throat against the wall with his left forearm and snatched the dagger with his right hand and twisted it into Tranzig’s thigh. Tranzig screamed loudly. Merick’s right hand and forearm were saved from the fire by his gauntlet, but his upper arm was bloodied and charred, just strong enough to torture a man.

Tranzig now had sweat beads running down his bloodied face as he pled, “Ok. No more. Please. I’ll talk, I promise.” Merick eyed his victim expectantly before Tranzig started speaking. “This – this was my first job. I don’t know much. All I know is I was meant to deliver this letter to somebody called Mulahey in the Nashkel Mines.” Merick was not satisfied and asked a rhetorical question to see how honest this man was being. “Who do you work for?” Merick yelled in his face. Tranzig was quick to say, “Tarzok. His name is Tarzok. I don’t know any thing else.” Merick twisted the dagger deeper into his victims thigh. “Argh! Ok! Please stop! He associates with bandits. I was told to meet him at the current bandit base to deliver any news after I gave Mulahey his letter." Merick yelled in Tranzig's face, "Where is the bandit camp?!" Trazig pressed against the wall in pain and terror as he answered, "The base is northeast of the Peldvale forest.” Merick had one more question. “Do you know a tall man in dark armor?” Tranzig shook his bloodied head, his eyes full of terror but seemed to show the truth. Merick pulled the dagger from Tranzig’s leg. Tranzig looked greatfully at Merick and barely had enough time to say “Thank you.” before Merick drove the dagger into his chest. Merick left Tranzig to slide down against the wall as he left the room after he took the letter that Tranzig was meant to deliver from his backpack.

The letter was from Tarzok to Mulahey. It seemed that most of the letter was Tarzok scolding Mulahey again for not being able to control his kobolds from killing the occasional miner. However, the letter did make a short reference to Tarzok being just north of Peldvale to complete organising a large bandit raid to raid a heavy incoming convoy of iron carrying caravans. It seemed that all the information that Merick got out of his torture victim checked out and now he could only hope that Tarzok would still be in the bandit camp.

Merick made his way downstairs and avoided drawing any more attention here by legitimately purchasing some throwing axes, giving him a total of five. As Merick exited the inn, he noticed that people made way for Merick and stood well out of his path. This was just a small taste of the power Merick had drempt of. He would head north towards the Friendly Arm Inn but then stop short and head east to the forest of Peldvale, where the letter specified a rather large convoy of iron caravans is passing through. From there he would search the northern outskirts to find the camp where the bandits were preparing their raid, and in there, Tarzok.

[ 04-14-2007, 10:17 PM: Message edited by: Rockstar ]

[Rockstar]

CHAPTER 3
ACT VI
The Flaming Fist

Merick started his walk up to the Friendly Arm Inn. Although he’d received a heavy burn on his upper right arm, he knew the main roads were the quickest way to Peldvale, and time was of the essence. All he wanted to do was to find Tarzok. Merick pondered. Tarzok could not be the leader behind this whole operation. Tarzok was just a puppet being used to maneuver the bandit raids on the caravans. He had to be getting the funds from a higher source to pay these bandits for their services.

Merick journeyed about half way to the Friendly Arm Inn when he stopped in his tracks. He was not alone. The road he was on had turned into more of a bush track, with thick forest lining both sides of the road. As Merick had suspected five armored solders with bows sprung out of the forest creating a wonky twenty perimeter around the dwarf. On the chest plates of the soldiers was a picture of a burning fist. These soldiers were of The Flaming Fist. Merick wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew this time. These soldiers were the elite of the elite and trained to work in small units. The officer that was searching for Merick in Beregost must some how have alerted a battalion up in Merick’s current location when Merick refused to go and speak to her. Merick felt his heart begin to race as he quickly drew his bow and an arrow as the five soldiers did the same and aimed at Merick.

Merick spun in a quick circle to see his enemies’ locations and aimed at one which spoke. “By order of The Flaming Fist, you are under arrest to stand trial for the murder of the Mayor of Nashkel. Now drop your weapons and lay on the ground. We will bind your hands and promise you will not come to harm.” Merick began to lower his bow as he muttered to himself. “This is one dwarf ye not be catching!” Merick snapped to his feet and fired a quick, but sloppy shot at the soldier in front of him. The arrow pierced the soldier’s hip before he cried out “Fire!”. Merick went to draw another arrow but got hit in his injured, right bicep. Merick dropped the arrow he was holding in that hand and bolted for the bush. As Merick hooked his bow over his back, he saw an arrow sail just above his head. He was nearly at the trees when he arched his back in agony as two more arrows hit him in his upper back. Merick dived into the forest and got hit again, this time in his calf. Merick thought that the end was near, but he could only run.

Bolting as fast as he could, Merick saw arrows sail past him and hitting tree trunks in front of him. Merick grit his teeth in pain, only concentrating on running as fast as he could. He jolted as another arrow hit him in the lower back. Merick kept running till he had lost them. Merick’s armor and thick skin had stopped the arrows from penetrating overly deep, but Merick was wounded, badly. Blood was running heavily down his armor, and as he felt himself weaken, Merick knew that couple more arrows in the wrong place would mean his fall. He hunched over in pain and exhaustion when he heard another arrow hissing through the air. An arrow hit Merick in the side, below his ribs. Merick kept on running, trying to keep a northward direction to save back tracking. Merick’s wounds were slowing him, but the forest was getting thicker and he soon lost his attackers.

Merick ran another kilometer before he nearly collapsed and stopped to rip out all the arrows and tip healing potions over his arrow wounds. Merick was deep in the forest where nobody could find him. His armor had heavy lines of blood leaking from the punctures where the arrows had hit and Merick knew that his only hope now was to rest in the hope that nobody found him while he recovered his wounds. The power that had healed him in the past was the only thing keeping him alive at this point. Merick lay against a tree and closed his eyes, knowing that if his power to heal was not strong enough, that he would die this day.

Merick awoke. He had overslept and the sun had gone down. He examined his wounds and found he was lucky. His wounds were bad, and although they had healed somewhat, he would be able to make a painful journey back to The Friendly Arm but would not be able to defend against any attack now until he could be healed. Merick got to his feet and trudged his way back to the main road until he reached the Friendly Arm Inn.

Merick went through the gates of the Friendly Arm Inn and headed straight to the temple. Merick staggered through and crashed over on a table. The priest could see Merick was wounded and immediately helped Merick onto the healing table as the healer got to work on him. Merick awoke to see the sun up. He had slept for hours and hours, but his wounds were gone and he felt rejuvenated. He sprung to his feet in a fluster and could only hope that Tarzok was still at the bandit camp, preparing the raid. Flustered, and not thinking, Merick threw a generous amount of at the priest and ran out of the in. His wounds were completely recovered but he did not have time to organise new armor. Merick dashed out of the Friendly Arm Inn and headed east and charged into the Peldvale Forest, to the bandit camp.

[ 04-17-2007, 10:17 AM: Message edited by: Rockstar ]

[Rockstar]

CHAPTER 3
ACT VII
Dreams and Signs

Merick made haste into the Peldvale Forest. He made considerable distance into the forest but it was late afternoon and he would need the cover of night to infiltrate an entire encampment of bandits and their leader, Tarzok. Merick sat against a tree trunk surrounded in bushed and nodded off.

Merick opened his eyes to find himself in the bottom of the Nashkel Mines. He walked slowly and cautiously through a long mine shaft, along the way seeing bodies of kobalds that he had killed himself. Merick stopped when he saw Mulahey. But this was not the half-orc that he had killed. It was a specter. Mulahey’s image was slightly transparent, with an aura of white light. As Mulahey stared blankly into Merick’s eyes, Merick noticed that the stab wound in the bottom of Mulahey’s skull was there, just as Merick had left him. Merick reached over his shoulder for his sword and to his waste for his axes, but his weapons had vanished. Merick charged at the specter, who stood blankly in one spot, and dived into it, tackling it to the ground. Merick immediately placed his hands round Mulahey’s throat and started to strangle him. Mulahey did not move and did nothing but stare in Merick’s eyes as Merick choked the specter to ensure it did not rise again.

All of a sudden, the specter started to fade and in a matter of seconds, Merick found himself choking thin air. Where Merick had held Mulahey’s throat in both hands, appeared a perfect dagger made of pure bone. The dagger gently levitated inline with Merick’s head, as he got to his feet. The dagger seemed to whisper to Merick. In his head he heard a dark voice whisper softly, yet forcefully, “Use the gifts that were given to you…” In the blink of an eye the dagger pointed itself at Merick’s heart and flew into his chest. Merick’s eyes snapped open, as he looked around and saw the sun setting on the forest. "Time to get moving again." Merick thought to himself. He got to his feet and started running through the forest. Ducking and weaving through the thick forest, Merick saw the sun overhead was setting and knew he had less than an hour of sunlight left.

The sun had gone down and Merick knew he could only be a couple of hours away from the bandit camp. He had reduced his speed to a walking pace and trudged through, what was now, a thick vine filled forest, dense with trees. Merick stopped. Something was wrong. He was being followed. Merick rested his left hand on his throwing axe as he stared at a suspicious bush. Merick began to tense when he heard a rustling from the bushes. Merick hurled the axe as something sprung out of the bush. The axe hit his enemy with a solid spray of blood. A wild dog was dead on the ground with the axe implanted deep in the top of its head. Merick shook his head in shame of himself, letting an animal sneak up on him like that. "Pathetic animal..." Merick muttered. As he reached down to dislodge his tomahawk when he heard the most subtle of steps behind him. Merick felt the adrenaline hit him like a sledge hammer. In the same immediate action, he dropped face down on the floor and drew his blade from over his shoulder. Merick rolled over to see a dark skinned elf pull back her short sword, which would have run straight through Merick had he not have fallen to the ground. The dark skinned elf was a Drow. The Drow were an evil, subterranean breed of elf and rarely seen on the surface. Merick, still on his back, raised his sword to stop some incoming chops at him. On the third strike from the Drow, Merick managed to hook her blade with his and swing it to one side. Merick followed through with his sword sailing straight through the Drow’s upper calf. The Drow women cried a shrill scream as icy blue sparks lit the dark surrounds, and her leg separated in two as she fell on her back screaming. Her stump only bled half as bad as it should have as it was half frosted over, and one side of her calf had icicles running about ten centimeters up it. Merick got to his feet and stood beside the screaming dark elf. Merick plunged his sword into the ground, right next to the dark elf's neck. Her scream lowered to a muffled groan as she the ice from the wound was causing her much pain. Merick spoke a one word question, “Bandits?” She closed her eyes and winced before reluctantly saying. “An hour to the north. A whole camp.” Merick did not let her get another word in as he scored his blade along the ground, across the Drow’s neck and severed it cleanly from her shoulders. Merick sheathed his blade and continued north until he could see the light from the campfires in the distance. He had found the bandit's camp.

[ 04-22-2007, 12:20 AM: Message edited by: Rockstar ]