StarDestroyer.Net BBS

This is a story about one of my favorite campaigns. This didn't happen in the game, but it might very well have if things hadn't turned out as well as they did. For the record, the character I play in the game is the cleric.


Dungeons & Dragons: Tarnished Gold


I.


"Jynx-"

"Step aside!"

"Jynx, listen-"

"Get out of my way, I'm going to put an arrow in her neck!"

"She can't fight back!"

"I don't care!"

"We need to take her back so your people can judge her! Killing her is just more anarchy!"

There was a long, deadly pause as the two glared each other down. Dorf gulped as he looked from one to the other. Jonethen with arms around the unconscious Halfling he'd somehow managed to subdue before she'd had a chance to blast them all. He kept his arm around her neck, ready to cut off her flow of air if she awoke and tried to cast another spell.

Jynx was twenty feet from him, bow in hand and arrow notched, but not yet ready to fire. The half-elf's angry blue eyes met Jonethen's emerald as they continued to glare at each other. This was bad. Jynx looked ready to kill the young human. Dorf then looked to his fellows to see if they would intervene. His fellow dwarf, Gloriani, was watching with what appeared to be amusement in her eyes and the Gnome bard Piper seemed to be more interested in the corpses of the giant lion and centipede that had fought each other to the death mere moments ago.

The Halfling stirred and it spurred Jynx to action. He aimed and pulled back on his bow. "Let me kill her!"

Jonethen shifted his weight so that the heavy wooden shield hanging off his left arm was between Jynx and the Halfling. "Don't you dare."

"I swear, if you don't put her down, I'm going to shoot you, then shoot her. I don't care what you need to do."

Jonethen set himself. "Do it," he replied, eyes unwavering. Dorf gulped and wondered how things had come to this. For the last four months, they'd waged war against the Necromancer who'd devastated the Elven lands and reduced their population to a quarter of its former size. They'd helped the elves launch a counter attack that had annihilated the undead armies and carried them straight to the wizard's tower. Everything had been going great.

Then, the night before they'd planned to enter the tower, Jonethen had woken up in the middle of the night and had practically gone into a panic attack. The young cleric had walked up and down their pavilion in a sweat, claiming that an avatar of his god, Bahamut, had come to him in a dream and demanded the capture of the wizard alive so that she could be given a proper trial. She would be found guilty and put to death, no doubt, but the avatar had insisted that it was time to bring order back to a land that had fallen into chaos.

The elves had split down the middle with half in favor of a trial and half insisting that the wizard be killed on sight. Jonethen, of course, was ready to do his god's work, but Jynx had turned out to be one of the staunchest in favor of killing her. Gloriani had loudly announced that she'd take whatever side was against the cleric. Piper had blown off the dream as a stupid fantasy and refused to get involved. Dorf had also decided to stay out of the conflict.

It would have been simpler if the wizard had not been taken alive. They'd made their way up her tower, shattering her illusions and blowing past her confusing puzzle traps until reaching her sanctum. There, she'd summoned a lion to protect her, but Piper's centipede had killed the cat before dying of its own injuries. Disregarding his own safety, Jonethen had dashed past the lion, nearly catching a giant paw for his gambit, and tackled the Halfling before she could get away.

Which left them with Jynx ready to kill Jonethen. Had the half-elf been any more incensed, Dorf would have been looking for the smoke coming from his nostrils. This was a bad situation all around. Then, Jynx finished pulling back his bowstring and let and arrow fly into the center of Jonethen's shield. The cleric let out a back of pain as the projectile went through the wood to pierce his forearm, but remained steady.

"Give her to me, I'll kill her!"

"You are not her executioner!"

"Yes I am!"

"Not yet!"

The Halfling squirmed and groaned. "I..." she trailed off. Then she muttered a few words that Dorf found completely incomprehensible. Without warning, the tower began to shake around them.

Gloriani cursed. "Good job, you idiot!" she yelled.

Jonethen refused to return the jibe. "Everyone out!" he shouted. "Go, go!" He bolted for the door, still holding the Halfling.

Jynx ran after him, yelling, "This isn't over!" The others followed the half-elf, Dorf grabbing Piper by the back of his coat and carrying him. The tower shook and began to crumble, huge chunks of the walls falling out and littering the path. Dorf felt one rock bounce off his helmet and saw another strike Jonethen in the shoulder.

The group ran down the spiraling stairs as fast as they could, Jonethen silently thanking his decision to leave behind his old, heavy armor in favor of the light Elven plate he now wore. Had he still been wearing the scale mail, he knew that he never would have made it out.

They reached the bottom of the tower just as its frame finally gave way and it collapsed into a pile of stone. Ahead of them were the figures of the Elven army, banners raised. They saw the five heroes come dashing out of the tower and sent up a cheer. Jonethen kept running, finally skidding to a halt and falling to his knees, gasping for breath. I did it, he thought, a bit of pride manifesting itself. I can't believe I really did it.

Then he felt something sharp touch the back of his neck and his thoughts turned to ice. "Let her go, Jonethen," Jynx's voice said venomously.

He trembled, but tightened his arms around her. "No," he said.

The pressure got worse. "Last chance."

Jonethen swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Don't do this, Jynx," he nearly whimpered.

Pain exploded at the back of his neck and stars erupted into being before his eyes. His vision swam and he felt himself losing control of his body, his arms losing their grip on the Halfling and the muscles in his bent legs relaxing, letting him pitch forward and to the left, his shield dragging him down.

"Gods above! You killed him, Jynx!" he heard someone shout. It sounded like Piper.

"Good, now I don't have to listen to him anymore," Gloriani said abrasively.

Jonethen struggled to breathe as he felt the Halfling being taken from him. "B-Bahamut," he sighed wetly, fingers grasping at thin air. "H-h-help...m-me...I...beg..."

Blackness.

Good Kuja. Good.

I enjoyed it. One of the great classic D & D moral dilemmas

Hahaha, stupid Cleric.

Tell me though, what's the big deal? I mean, kill on sight versus show trial and execution? I mean, what the fuck?

Stofsk wrote:Hahaha, stupid Cleric.

Tell me though, what's the big deal? I mean, kill on sight versus show trial and execution? I mean, what the fuck?

Because Bahamut insisted that it would at least be a step in the right direction towards getting the Elven society rebuilt.

II.

Slin fidgeted. He felt extremely uncomfortable. And when a brass dragon was uncomfortable, the people around him tended to get uncomfortable as well. The end result was that Slin occupied a large space by himself while everyone else stayed a good ten feet away so that they wouldn't be brushed by twitching wings or tapped by a writhing tail.

The Elven clerics were nearly finished with their prayer. Although Slin tried to be congenial, at heart he had always been impulsive and brash, and the long prayer made him impatient. The fact that it was in Celestial, a language he'd planned on learning but had never gotten around to was not helping his mood.

So he waited. And fidgeted.

Jonethen's body had been laid out on a makeshift bier. Lacking a church, the Elves had quickly thrown together a memorial service in an open clearing of the forest. Jonethen was going to be buried with the other soldiers that had fallen during the short but devastating war. Slin looked sadly at the young man's body. Jonethen's red hair had been trimmed and gently arrayed to lay neatly across his skull. His pale skin had turned even lighter in death, making his formerly rust-colored hair seem to turn a shade of blood in comparison. Rather than the plate he'd been wearing at the time of his death, he was dressed in his old scale mail, polished to a shine in honor of his sacrifices.

Someone had also gone above and beyond the call of duty. On Jonethen's breast lay a silver rendition of Bahamut's symbol: a large white star dominating a field of violet peppered with other, smaller stars. Slin wondered who had taken the trouble to make the beautiful symbol. Probably one of the Elves. But even Elven craftsmanship couldn't compare to what lay just below it. Jonethen's hands had been placed on his sternum allowing all to see the wonder of his right hand.

It was draconic. The hand of a gold dragon, to be precise. Five fingers, like a human, but covered in well-kept scales that winked in the sunlight. The fingers ended in nails far too hard and sharp to be human.

Jonethen had told few people about his hand, but Slin had been privileged with the story. Jonethen's parents had both fought in the Black War, nearly thirty years ago. His dragon mother Undine, and his human father, Maxwell Vurst, had been assigned to a mission together. Betrayed by another dragon, and with her trapped in human form, they'd somehow made their way back to friendly territory, falling in love on the way. Undine had gotten pregnant with Jonethen at some point, and was forced to keep her human form or risk losing her child. Maxwell had been killed before Jonethen's birth, but Undine had raised her son with all the tenderness and care she could muster. Despite being technically half-dragon, the only legacy Undine had passed to her son was his right hand. To avoid awkwardness around humans, Jonethen had always worn a gauntlet on that hand, keeping it a secret even from his own companions. They'd been shocked when it had been removed for the service.

Slin shook himself from his reverie as the clerics spoke the last few lines of the prayer. As they finished, one motioned to him and he arose from his prone position, slowly walking to the front of the assembly with his heart racing. He'd asked the Elves if he might be able to speak a few words and they had readily granted the request.

"Ah, ahem," he said nervously as he reached the front and looked out over the large gathering. Jonethen had certainly had quite a following amongst the Elves, his positive attitude, gentle guidance, and genuine concern for his fellow soldier winning him more than a few friends. Slin recognized most of the Elves in attendance as being those Jonethen had most closely associated with. They did not weep, but all of them looked downtrodden or at least serious.

Their stoicism was in shocking contrast to that of Jonethen's closest companions. Piper sat cross-legged on the ground, chin in his hands and eyes half-closed as though he was ready to nod off. Gloriani was watching the proceedings with the huffy, impatient attitude she'd always adopted around Jonethen, tapping her foot on the ground and drumming her fingers on her arms. Jynx was watching with cold disinterest. And Dorf…Dorf looked like what he really wanted was to be at the nearest tavern sucking down ale. He repeatedly shifted from foot to foot and kept sneaking glances at some of the nearby Elven women. Slin was appalled at their bad manners.

"Jonethen was my friend," Slin said slowly. "He was also a great person. You could see it in the way he spoke, the way he listened, and the way he put the interests of others ahead of his own." He paused. "When I met Jonethen for the first time, I was on death's door. I'd challenged an older dragon to a fight and lost badly. As part of my humiliation, I was forced to wear the terrible guise of the undead." There were more than a few shivers in the crowd at this. "Many ran from me before I could plead with them for help. I despaired, believing that my life would slowly bleed out of me until I had nothing left. I was without hope. But when I met Jonethen, he saw through that disguise. He even helped dispel it. And when that was done, he helped me heal my wounds. I owe my life to Jonethen. When everyone else was running and turning their backs to me, he reached out and pulled me back from the edge of death's clutches."

He paused again and took a deep breath. "Maybe he saw something in me that mirrored him. He knew what it was like to be disgraced. To be…to be cast from the light and wander, without purpose." Slin shifted. "You see, Jonethen was once stripped of his title because of a rash act. That story is not mine to tell and I will not dwell on it. But he found his way back to the side of his…of our god, and he helped me do the same."

Slin spared a moment to scan faces. The Elves were largely enraptured by the tale, some inching closer to the dragon as he spoke. Jonethen's companions looked much the same as before. "Jonethen was a person who always sought to bring out the best in others," Slin continued quickly. "I think that because he knew what it was like to be cast away, he fought with every ounce to keep anyone else from befalling that fate. He believed that even the darkest among us could be redeemed. And he wasn't afraid to back down when someone threatened him."

At this, Jynx suddenly turned and walked out of the clearing. Dorf leapt upon it as an excuse to leave, following the ranger away from the gathering. Slin realized that he'd subtly insulted the half-elf and mentally chastised himself for the misstep. "Jonethen believed in the spirit of the law, if not the letter," he plowed on. "He attempted to walk a fine line between adherence to law and following his own path. I think that the world has lost a truly great man, and I will miss him." He turned back to the bier and the form atop it. "Farewell, my friend. The world is a sadder place without you." With that, he turned and strode quickly from the clearing, jaw clenched tightly so that he could focus on the pain there instead of anything else.

He didn't slow until he came within site of the new Elven village. Constructed on the remains of a city leveled by the fighting, it was already a bustling town filling up with citizens. What drew Slin's eye the most was the larger-than average building near the center of the community. The town hall/temple stood at the south end of the city square, which now was nearly empty. Yesterday, that hadn't been the case. Slin remembered watching the crowds slowly gather to cheer first at the announcement of the wizard's condemnation, then her beheading. He grimaced. It had taken Jonethen's death to give the Halfling a few more days of life following by her own inevitable execution. Slin wondered bitterly if it was worth it. He also wondered why Bahamut had ever thought to issue an order that he must have known would turn Jonethen's friends against him.

Thinking of the others made Slin's stomach turn. Gloriani's feud with the cleric had been longstanding. She hadn't liked him. Then again, Gloriani had never liked much of anything, Slin included. Jynx and Piper had always been de facto friends of the cleric, but it had been a friendship built on a rocky and insubstantial foundation. They'd gotten along because they'd been forced to by circumstance, not genuine familiarity. Then the events at the tower had yanked that away. Of all of them, Dorf's lack of concern was the most difficult to swallow. Slin had always taken the dwarf's cheerfulness for natural friendliness, but maybe he'd been mistaken. Maybe the dwarf really just didn't give a damn beyond his next meal and ale. It was a disheartening thought.

Slin didn't want to think about it anymore. He stretched out on the grass and rested his head on his front legs. With a deep sigh, he let his eyes close, squeezing out a matching pair of tears as he did so. Then he let himself go limp and slowly drifted off to a sleep plagued by nightmares about laughing gold dragons and burning forests.

A Draconic ulogy. How sweet.

III.

He drifted through a featureless cold void. Bereft of his armor and even his clothing, Jonethen shivered. He'd never liked the cold, a throwback to his gold dragon heritage. Gold dragons liked heat. Jonethen had grown up in a warm city on the coast. This place was anathema to him. Another shiver ran through him and he rubbed his bare chest with his hands as his teeth chattered. He realized that it was cold enough for him to see his breath. "H-h-h-hello?" he asked. For a long moment, there was no answer.

"Poor little gold dragon, all alone in the cold," a husky woman's voice answered. Jonethen felt a chill run up his spine that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature. "You don't want to be alone, do you? Nobody does."

"Wh-who-" he managed to stammer before he felt a pair of hands touch his back and slide around his shoulders. The hands felt warm, almost burning after the cold of the void. Silk touched his bare skin as a figure pressed itself against his back. A woman's figure. Jonethen could feel the heat emanating from her body and he drew in a shaky breath as his hands instinctively went to clasp hers. "Sweet little gold dragon," the voice said, so pleasing to his ears that he thought he might just melt away, "let me share my warmth with you.

He felt a pair of lips touch his neck just below and behind his left ear. Like her hands, they were so hot they were almost burning, but as they touched him, Jonethen felt the cold melt away to be replaced by a pleasant sensation of warmth. As his body temperature came back up the burning sensation vanished. "Who are you?" he finally managed.

"I am known by many names." One of her hands began to slide down his chest towards his midsection. He trembled at the familiar touch and pressed her hand against his skin before it could move too far.

"Tell me," he asked.

"You would know me best as Tiamat."

Jonethen felt his mind explode. He tore himself away from her arms and spun to see her for the first time. She was an elegantly shaped woman, taller than he was with ample curves and beautiful ivory skin. Her hair was so dark it was nearly blue, falling past her shoulders to frame what was nearly an Elven face, so beautiful it was, with green eyes that nearly matched his own. Then again, shape was meaningless to a deity. She wore a gown of the sheerest black silk that revealed more than it concealed, but Jonethen determinedly looked her in the eye, chest heaving.

"How? Why? Where?" he fired off in an attempt to compose himself.

She smiled, and it was a glorious expression. "Sweet little gold dragon," she said kindly. "I brought you here to give you a great gift."

Jonethen resisted the urge to spit at her – that would likely get him erased from existence – and instead growled. "What?"

"Another chance," she said, her voice a sensuous whisper.

"What?"

"Jonethen," she said, and he felt electricity run through him. "I know what it is you most desire." She opened her arms and glided towards him, and he felt powerless to stop her from enfolding him in a warm hug. "To live," she whispered to him, her lips brushing his ear. "To prove your worth."

"I..."

"I can give you that, my dear, sweet gold dragon," she said. He closed his eyes and shuddered. Every time she said that, he felt a thrill run through him. Nobody had ever called him that, not even his mother. It felt so good...

His eyes snapped open. "In exchange for what?" he asked.

"A cleric is what you are," she said. "A cleric is what you know best. Go on being a cleric." She held him more tightly, pressing her figure against his. "Be a cleric for me."

"I could never do that," he said quickly. "I'm pledged to Bahamut. To your enemy!"

"And look where you are now," she said with a voluptuous grin. "Here, in my arms, sustained by my heat. Jonethen," she said, and again he felt that tingle of electricity. "Bahamut has abandoned you."

"No!" he said instinctively. "He wouldn't! He would never do such a thing!"

"But he did. Jonethen. As you fell, his name was on your lips. You gave your life to him. As a loyal cleric should. But he turned his gaze from you long ago. You were no longer a servant of his, only a tool. One to be used and discarded."

"No," he said, tears coming to his eyes. "No, no, no..."

Tiamat gently took his head and guided it to her shoulder. "Beautiful little gold dragon," she whispered. "Do you cry for him or for yourself?"

"I..."

"The half-elf lives, dear Jonethen. Did you know that?" She gently guided his head up to look her in the eyes. "Bahamut will take no action against him."

"But...how could he..."

"He has abandoned you," she said firmly. "I will not." She leaned closer, so close that their lips nearly touched. "Jonethen. I know what you desire in your heart of hearts. Deep down, you want to be a dragon, don't you? You want to fly through the skies and breathe fire and know what it is like to be one of the greatest race known to the world."

"I...I...do," he said softly.

"Jonethen, I will give that to you. Become my cleric and you will have it." Jonethen suddenly felt heat rise inside of him. "Here. Listen to the roar in your ears. Listen to the blood sing in your veins. You are a dragon, Jonethen. Embrace your identity."

Jonethen couldn't reply. He felt his back arch and he groaned. His hands curled into claws. The scales on his right hand seemed to be spreading like a disease. He felt his teeth shift and grow. His eyesight sharpened and his blood seemed to burn like fire. It felt like his insides were rearranging themselves like molten metal on a forge. It felt...so...wonderful...

"Sweet little gold dragon," Tiamat whispered into his ear. "Become what you are, what you've always desired to be. Accept my gift..." she tilted her head and her lips touched his for the briefest instant-

Oh gods she's kissing me it's so amazing it's like being struck by lightning I can't believe it it hurts so much but it's so beautiful I don't want it to stop it's so warm its like being inside a volcano I feel so good I've never felt like this before I hope it never ends I can't take much more but it's the most wonderful feeling ever-

-and retreated, leaving a new and transformed Jonethen hanging limply in her arms. She smiled radiantly. "Jonethen, my dear little gold dragon," she purred. "Will you accept this gift? Will you be my cleric?"

"Yes..." he whimpered.

"Jonethen, I have one more gift for you," she whispered to him as her hand caught his and gently guided it into the folds of her gown to touch skin so soft and flawless it immediately set a new fire burning inside him. Dragon's eyes snapped open and he eagerly pressed himself against her. "Jonethen," she said. "I will give you your revenge on those who falsely called themselves your friends, who even now walk with their heads high as though they are the champions of the world. Do you want it? Do you want to take your revenge?"

He smiled as his hands roamed over her, delighting in the feel.

"Yes, my lady" he hissed. "Oh yessssssss..."

Excellent work. I particularly like the way you are protraying the others and Tiamat is always a nice touch to see.

IV.


The forest was quiet. Not unsettlingly quiet or obnoxiously quiet, just quiet. Birds chirped from far away and the wind whispered through the trees as the horses' hooves padded against the dirt road.

Yet despite the almost idyllic day, Jynx felt more uncomfortable in the saddle than he had since the first day he'd started riding. He felt unsteady, uneasy, uncomfortable, un...un-something. To tell the truth, he felt like he was being watched, and that was not a pleasant sensation. His eyes scanned the trees time and again, revealing nothing but grass, flowers, and the occasional forest creature. He licked his lips in consternation, brushed a lock of yellow hair out of his eyes, and drummed his fingers on the air near his sword.

"Why so twitchy?" Gloriani asked from behind him. Jynx scowled.

"Nothing," he replied curtly.

"Fine, be that way," she snapped back. "Ass."

"Is it that time again, Gloriani?" Piper said from the back of his riding dog.

She spun to glare at him. "What did you say to me?" she said as she laid a hand on her axe.

He rolled his eyes and waved his hands back and forth a few times, magically producing a small branch he'd been whittling yesterday from his sleeve. "Hey, look!" he said brightly. "I pulled the stick out of your ass!"

Dorf guffawed, spraying a mouthful of ale all over himself. His horse nickered softly. Piper laughed at the sight and a moment later, Gloriani joined him, dispelling the tension of the moment. Jynx allowed himself a snort of amusement before going back to watching the forest.

"Hey, what's the deal?" Piper asked a few moments later. "Come on, lighten up a little! What, do you still have the cleric on the brain? I'm starting to think you and him-"

"Finish that idiotic little joke and you'll be the next one with an arrow through your neck," Jynx said coldly. Piper took the hint and shut up. Minutes passed in silence. Around the bend, they found their destiny.

A man was standing forty feet away, dead center in the road. He was so heavily cloaked that Jynx couldn't determine what race he was. As the group came closer, Jynx waved at everyone to be cautious and slowly drew his bow. "Hello," he called carefully as they stopped about twenty feet away. The man only nodded. "Who are you?"

"Oh, Jynx, how nice it is to see you again. All of you." The voice was familiar, and Jynx started at the use of his name.

"What do you want?" Gloriani asked.

"I want a few things. Your head on a pike would be nice."

"What?!" she shrieked.

The figure whipped his cloak off and Jynx felt his heart stop. It was Jonethen! But...he was different. Gold scales lined his body where it was not covered by his scale mail. His green eyes had become a flashing gold. His hands had become draconic claws. Even his teeth, bared in an unfriendly grin, had changed. "Jonethen?" he asked.

"Hello."

"You're dead! I saw you die!" Gloriani shouted.

"I'm back," Jonethen said with a grin that was not entirely sane. "And you know, I feel comfortable saying this now. I never liked you, Gloriani. You always annoyed me to no end."

"You bastard! I'll kill you!"

"Not today, dwarf-bitch. Today is my day." With that, Jonethen suddenly inhaled and blew out a tremendous column of flame. Jynx was the only one to react in time, yanking his feet out of the stirrups and pitching himself backward to use the horse as a shield. The flames washed around the group. Jynx could hear the horses screaming and Piper's dog howling in pain. Jynx buried his face into his arms and prayed to the goddess Ehlonna to protect him.

When he stood, the forest had been transformed into hell. The nearest trees had caught the edge of Jonethen's blast and were now aflame. None of the animals had survived. As the party members began pulling themselves to their feet, Jonethen laughed.

"Dinner, well done," he said.

Gloriani screeched like a harpy and threw herself at him, axe flashing in the light. Her strike slammed into Jonethen's midsection, breaking through his mail and driving him back a step, but to her astonishment, failing to penetrate his scales. "Pathetic," he said contemptuously. With that, he raised a hand to her face, middle and ring fingers tucked into his palm by the thumb. Jynx felt an awful premonition and then saw a bright light erupt from the hand and immediately slam into Gloriani. She screamed briefly, then fell silently to the ground. When she hit, she no longer had a face.

Jynx resisted the urge to vomit as Piper screamed in disbelief, "But you lost your spells!"

"I've got them back," Jonethen said with a sneer. "I don't serve that bastard Bahamut anymore." Jonethen reached into his cloak and withdrew a pendant depicting a five-headed dragon. "Lady Tiamat is my goddess now."

"Traitor!" Dorf yelled. "She's evil!"

Jonethen rolled his eyes. "As usual, you catch on so quickly," he said. Jynx raised his bow and pulled an arrow, but before he could fire, Dorf raised his warhammer and charged in. Jonethen deftly avoided the blow and brought his hand up, claws opening Dorf at the throat and dropping him. Left with an open shot, Jynx fired, his arrow piercing Jonethen's scales and drawing blood. The cleric hissed in anger.

Piper's fingers danced across his lute with manic intensity, forming an off-kilter tune Jynx barely had time to recognize before a hole opened in the ground and another of Piper's monstrous centipedes reared its head. Jonethen grinned. "My pleasure." He waited for the centipede to approach, then darted in, seized its mandible, and tore it off. As the creature began to squeal in pain, Jonethen turned the body part in his hands and drove the end of it through its eye. The centipede dropped.

Fingers trembling, Jynx missed his next shot as Jonethen turned and leapt at Piper. Before the bard could get away, Jonethen's hands closed around his coat and hauled him off his feet. A moment later, the symbol of Tiamat dangled in front of his eyes.

"You know that running joke of yours?" Jonethen said venomously. "The one where you'd light me up like a torch whenever you got bored? Let's see how you like it." With that, the symbol suddenly blazed as brightly as the sun. Piper forgot everything else as he clutched at his eyes and screamed.

Jonethen dropped the crying gnome and turned to face Jynx as the ranger dropped his bow and unsheathed his Elven blades. "Oh yes," Jonethen said as the smile crept back onto his face. "This is the one I've been waiting for."

"I'll kill you again if I have to," Jynx said.

"Not this time."

V.

The two began to circle, Jonethen pausing to deliver a vicious kick to Piper's head as he moved away from the stricken gnome. The bard cried out briefly and then went limp. Jynx ignored him. If he let his attention slip now, he'd end up gutted on the ground. "Why?" he asked, keeping his eyes on Jonethen's.

"Why...why did I leave Bahamut and come back to kill you all?"

"Yeah."

"Being shot in the neck will change a man more than you can guess, Jynx." Jonethen narrowed his eyes. "I gave Bahamut eight years of my life. Eight years, Jynx. And at the end of it, he gave me two rewards. First, he slapped me into a group that hated me. Then he gave me a task he knew would get me killed." Jonethen's face twisted into a sneer. "Some reward."

Jynx felt the bottom of his heart drop away. "We didn't hate you, Jonethen," he said.

Jonethen snarled. "Horseshit! When was the last time anyone said 'thank you, Jonethen' or 'good work, 'Jonethen'. Hell, I wasn't even 'Jonethen' to you people; I was 'the cleric'. Get the cleric over here. Let the cleric figure it out. Tell the cleric to hurry up. Do you have any idea what that was like? I was your thankless healing slave for a year! Gloriani hit me so often I thought my arm would drop off! And when I'd hit back, everyone would jump on me like I was some kind of enemy! Piper thought I was one big joke target! Dorf came to me begging for help when he was injured and then treated me like I didn't exist! And you..." By now, Jonethen had worked himself into a frenzy. His clawed hands opened and closed in time with his heaving chest. His teeth were bared. He had lowered himself into an unconscious attack stance. Jynx carefully stepped back and prepared for the strike that would inevitably come. "After all I'd done, all the times I'd risked my life, all the dreams I sacrificed, you put an arrow through my neck while everyone, Bahamut included, sat there and watched. Watched! As if I was nothing!" Jonethen reached down and slowly drew his mace. "Well, I refuse to go out like that. When I die, my life will have meant something, do you understand me?!"

"What good is it if you're remembered as a traitor and a murderer?!"

Jonethen snapped. "You're a fine one to talk about murder, half-elf!" He bolted forward, mace gripped in both hands. Jynx slid a foot back and raised his blades. He attempted to parry the overhead blow, but it came in with so much force behind it that it knocked the sword from his hand. Jonethen's momentum carried him past Jynx and the ranger took the opportunity to stab him in the side, but the Elven steel uselessly scraped along the golden scales and slid off. Jonethen recovered from his headlong charge and spun. Once again, the two men faced each other. Jonethen's expression had gone back to the leery smile. "I'm enjoying this so much…"

"You're sick," Jynx spat.

"Ha! Ha!" Jonethen spat right back. "If you'd ever taken the time to talk to me, you might have known I had a dark side! You might have known that I single-handedly killed ten defenseless men because one of them had killed a child! But no, Jynx the ranger is too high and mighty to talk to some stupid cleric! So it stayed my own little secret!" Jonethen laughed aloud, his eyes never leaving Jynx's. The ranger thought it was the most disturbing laugh he'd ever heard. "Now it's too late! I'll teach you what it means to know that your life means nothing!" With that, Jonethen rushed in again. Jynx moved to dodge the blow, but he was too slow. The mace swung into his good hand, crushing the bones and knocking the thinblade from his fingers. The force of the blow sent Jynx to one knee with a cry of pain.

As he knelt on the dirt path, cradling his broken hand, Jynx looked up to see Jonethen dropping the mace into its belt loop. His eyes narrowed and he felt his throat tighten in fear. "What are you doing?"

Jonethen brought his hands together to crack first one set of knuckles, then the other. With that, he dropped into a fighting stance. "Say your prayers, half-elf," he said harshly.

Jynx clenched his jaw and accepted the inevitable. "Go to hell."

Jonethen grinned as his hands began to glow a bright golden color as he charged a more potent version of the spell that had killed Gloriani. Jynx closed his eyes, but even through his lids he could see the rising glow. "I'm sorry, Jonethen," he suddenly said.

"I'm not."

The blast of energy caught Jynx in the throat and threw him backwards. By the time he hit the ground, a furrow had been burned into him reaching from his neck nearly to his sternum, killing him before he could even cry out. Exhilarated, Jonethen sucked in a deep breath and bellowed, a true dragon's roar that he once could have only dreamed of replicating. The power of the victory cry was such that the leaves on the trees rustled and even the branches themselves seemed to shake. As his breath left him, Jonethen felt the adrenaline rush fade and he remembered something that brought another smile to his lips.

The gnome was still alive.

He walked over to where he'd left Piper and kicked him in the side. The bard yelped and tried to scramble to his feet, but Jonethen seized the neck of his shirt and viciously swung him into the nearest tree trunk, breaking his nose. Then he threw the gnome to the ground. Piper coughed, spitting out the blood streaming from his nose. A moment later, Jonethen planted a foot on his ribcage and pressed down. Piper gasped and tried to pull the foot away, but Jonethen was too strong and too heavy to budge. Stars formed in front of Piper's eyes and just as he thought he would black out, Jonethen relented. The gnome gasped, sucking in air as fast as he could. A moment later, Jonethen bore down on him again and he squeaked as he tried to pull in another breath.

Jonethen continued the game of cat-and-mouse for a few more rounds, letting his playfulness drain out. "I think I like my games better than yours," he commented offhandedly.

"I hate you," the gnome choked out.

"Oh, no no no," Jonethen corrected. "You don't hate me. You only think you hate me. The truth is, you're scared to death of me and you're trying to avoid that grim reality by convincing yourself that what you feel now is hate."

Piper summoned enough courage to open his eyes and grimace. "I'm not afraid! Why would I be afraid of you?"

Jonethen smiled. "Liar, liar, you're a little liar," he said in a singsong voice, mocking one of the gnome's favorite tunes. "You know you fear me." He put a little weight on his leg. "You fear me because I've got so much to pay you back for. All those little pranks, all those little tortures, that year-long personal hell you put me through and now, the shoe is on the other foot. And that foot happens to be crushing your chest." Jonethen put more weight on and watched the gnome whimper and squirm desperately. "Scream for me, Piper," he said softly, and then put all of his weight onto his leg. Piper did scream, and thrash, and flail. Jonethen his hands on his knee and, eyes fixed on Piper, applied all his upper-body strength to his leg. The force he exerted rushed downwards through his lower leg and thrust itself into Piper's chest. With a sickening crunch, the gnome's abused ribcage gave way. Piper coughed once more, twitched and lay still. With horrific fascination, Jonethen reached down and touched the gnome's bloody chin with his left hand, then straightened and looked at how the red blood vividly contrasted with the bright gold of his scales. A moment later, he brought his fingertips to his mouth and slowly licked the blood off of them. A smile blossomed on his face.

"Sweet."

Someone is venting some angry over being consigned as a heal-bot, and I completely understand!

I like this very much, though I have only one nitpick; If Jonethen was in favor with much of the Elven forces, why was there no action taken against Jynx for killing him? After all, it was done in full view of the Elven host.

Just curious.

Spiny Norman wrote:I like this very much, though I have only one nitpick; If Jonethen was in favor with much of the Elven forces, why was there no action taken against Jynx for killing him? After all, it was done in full view of the Elven host.

Just curious.

Because the split was half-and-half among the rank and file of the army, but virtually the whole elven council was on his side (something my DM let me know about after the situation was over). So he got away with it. Or maybe he didn't.