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Voyager23 - Cleanup
Roget disposes of a body
Roget,
During a lull in the cleanup, you find yourself standing next to Aramil's body. The rain is still steady and the soothing drops hitting your skin have slowly stitched up your physical wounds.
But today's pain runs deeper.
It was only three weeks ago that you stood like this over Kesi and Bigby. But this time, things are different. You have no dead king to use as leverage. And you fear that there is no friendly high priestess waiting for you down river.
Beyond the docks, the screams and chaos of battle continue. And somewhere, a fire has started - in the distance, you see its smoke curling up toward the rain clouds.
You have no allies here. And the enemies - Chaos's “soldiers” that Matchitisiw warned you about - are getting harder and harder to survive.
This quest, you fear, may not last. And Aramil will surely have to be left here - so far from his home that you have walked three months just to get halfway to a kingdom he had only read about.
The natives have started to investigate the battle scene. How long has it been since the last giant was killed? A minute? Ten? An hour? The growing crowd stirs you from your reverie.
There is still work to do. And the risks to the party may not have died with the giants.
You look back past the docks to find the others. In the distance, you spot Kesi. But as you start to walk to her, a woman steps from the crowd and crouches down at Aramil's feet.
“Grab his shoulders, Roget. We need to get him into the river.”
While the rest of the crowd huddles against the rain under cloaks and coats, she wears only a light, summer dress with a simple, leather belt. The rain has soaked her from head to foot, and her dress clings to her perfect golden skin, revealing a shapely form with which you have become quite familiar.
The daylight reveals details that you hadn't realized were missing before. The color of her eyes. The shape of her nose. The bright, golden ring on her left hand in contrast with the dark, golden skin. Your senses are overwhelmed. You stammer for a second, like a child who can't remember what words to use.
“Well? Are you going to help me?” And then, with a mischievous smile, “Or are you going to exercise your free will and say 'No'?”
A second's hesitation… A thousand thoughts… You reach down and grabs Aramil's shoulders.
Despite Aramil's heft, the two of you are able to lift him with ease, and after a short hobble to the river's edge, she wades in up to her waist. You have no choice but to follow. She lets loose Aramil's feet and nods for you to do the same with your end. Without additional instruction, you feel strange. Is she going to bring him back? Or is this just her way of dumping the body?
You realize, with slight embarrassment, that people on the bank are curiously watching you. You and Aramil, of course, stand out in any crowd in this land, so the feeling is not new. And, though her skin and hair are the right color, her wardrobe makes her stand out as well. What must they be thinking? Do they know she is who she is?
You let go of Aramil's shoulders and he begins to sink under the surface. She deftly (and quickly) undoes his pack and scabbard and hands them to you. Without the extra weight, Aramil rises back to the surface. Then, she gives him a nudge and he begins to drift out into the deeper waters.
“What…” you start to ask, but can't quite think of the right question.
She steps (wades) next to you and puts her hand over your chest. The water of the river laps at your waist. The warm water of her touch seeps through to your skin. The water of the rain drizzles down your shoulders. It all combines into a deep sensation of relief and comfort. The worries and fears from earlier melt from your mind. She is all that there is - and all that matters. And when she smiles, you smile. As long as she is pleased, the chaos beyond the river seems a distant annoyance.
She stretches up to kiss you. In the light of day, and with the closeness of her body, you get a sense of her that you had been unable to see before. She is not only much shorter than you thought, but also light - almost elfin.
“You do have free will,” she says quite suddenly. “It is just that the events before you lead to only one possible conclusion. I chose you because you were smart enough to see that and strong enough to make the choice, despite the risk.”
She turns briefly to look at Aramil. His body has drifted several yards out into the river, but remains afloat - despite being burdened with his armor and some leftover gear.
“Chaos knows you are coming, Roget. They sent the giants here to stop you, and they will continue sending more such obstacles at you until they succeed or they are destroyed. But they do not understand this world. Life perplexes them. But they learn and adapt. I do not know what they will do next, but I fear they will strike in new ways - ways we have not seen before.”
She steps back and pulls her hand from your chest. The warm spring rain becomes slightly colder.
“I will see you in Shiriki.” And, then she turns and dives headfirst into the river - a maneuver so graceful that the ripples on the water fade almost immediately. You see her shadowy form below the surface as she swims out toward Aramil's body, but it fades from view after only a few feet.
And then, Aramil sinks and is gone.
Aramil's Death Vision
Aramil,
You float in a sea of mist and shadow, disoriented and confused. There is a silence around you - which seems very wrong. You try to remember how you got here, but it is as if your mind does not want you to know.
Slowly, piece by piece, your curiosity wakes up and wrestles the confusion out of your mind. You begin to remember. There were noises. There was chaos.
Chaos. That word has meaning to you.
And then, it all comes rushing in. You wake up fully and realize just how wrong things are!
The mist and shadow around you is much like the ethereal plane - however the astral sun is nowhere to be seen. And there are no shapes from the material plane.
But the biggest problem is that you feel no pain.
You remember the giants. And you remember that club (or was it a small tree?) connecting with your head and torso. You remember the pain - so sharp and so deep. But now there is nothing.
You reach up to feel your neck. Surely it was broken from the impact. You remember the sound of the bones breaking. Or was that something else?
Confusion starts to seep back in to your mind.
“Aramil!” A woman's voice snaps you back to attention.
She stands (floats?) in front of you. Her straight, black hair and golden skin mark her as a native of this region - much like the many you have encountered these past four months. She has a very light frame - almost elf like - and stretches less than five feet from head to toe. Every inch of her body and hair are wet - as if she just emerged from a river - and a sheer white robe clings tantalizingly to her wet body, revealing contours and features that most women would be embarrassed to reveal. Around her waist is a black belt emblazoned in silver with the stylized rain cloud that the Rain King and his sodliers used on their armor. On her left hand is a plain, gold wedding ring. She is stunningly beautiful.
“We do not have much time before Chaos notices that I am here, so I must apologize for being forward.”
She steps up to you and swiftly grabs your face in both hands. The water from her palms is warm and drips down your cheeks into your beard. Before you can even react, she kisses you - hard - on the lips.
Emotions surge through you. At once you are both embarrassed and aroused. But both emotions are supplanted by surprise when a warm water begins to flow from her mouth into yours. It fills your mouth in a flash and begins bubbling out the corners - where your lips are still held firmly next to hers.
A second later, the water is both gushing down your front onto your chest, and filling up your throat. You gag, but still she holds you firmly in place. She is far too strong for someone her size. You instinctively try to break free, but are unable.
The water in and around you builds until it feels as though you are immersed in it. It breaks through your gag reflex and forces its way into your stomach and lungs. You are drowning.
You kick to break free, but the water slows you down and seems to have sapped your strength. You thrash in a panic, hoping that somehow you will be able to get away. A terror reaches deep into your mind and heart and you lose control.
The water is cold now - but above you is sunlight. You kick in that direction, realizing quite suddenly that the woman is nowhere to be seen.
And then you break the surface and feel the sting of the cold morning air.
Your lungs scream as they try to gulp in air. Nearby, a muddy river bank offers solace and your body finds its way there by instinct. You cough up water for several minutes until you begin to breathe normally.
You are lying in the mud of a river bank. You still wear your armor, but there is no sign of your weapons or your pack. Nor is there any sign of the docks where you fought the giants … or the raft … or any other person.
You are alone. You have no idea where you are. You have no idea where your friends are.
But you know one thing that makes those concerns seem trivial: You are alive and you should be dead.