The Storyteller's Night Pt. 2

The barbarian stirred, grunting his approval for the turn events had taken. Deh, visibly distressed, sat in silence for a while before looking up. “So what happened to the girl?”
“The girl?” I answered with a question. “It’s unfortunately a common enough fate – she got sold as a slave. Long story short she changed owners often, her price dropping as the number of scars increased. She was fourteen when a wealthy merchant sought her for more than cooking and cleaning, and two days later she found herself in prison for murder.”
“A slave killing their master? That’s death by execution at the first convenience of someone with an ax, as far as I know…” It was obvious he hadn’t spent much time in the less civilized parts of our continent.
“Executions aren’t all that common when there’s an Arena full of people throwing their money away for the next spectacle. Much more lucrative that way, and it keeps all parties that matter satisfied. And if the crowd likes you, you can eventually make it as a professional with a personal trainer and several benefits. Of course very few make it past their first week.”
The Halfling chewed on the words in silence for a bit. “I’ll never understand the appeal of watching two fight to the death.”
“Duels are for people, slaves face off with wild animals.”
“But she eventually made it as a gladiator?”
“Oh yes, one of the best. Not as strong as many of the others, she often fought dirty, and people couldn’t get enough of her. She apparently caught the eye of some city officials as well, because when the war with Tormin came about she was recruited as a mercenary commander.”
“And she accepted? Why not just run away?”
“Why would she? After so many years as a slave being a professional fighter was all she knew. She loved it, and was good at it. So the progression came natural – better pay, less rules, more diverse enemies.” Deh furrowed his brow, waving off some thought. Eventually he announced that he didn’t want to hear about the war, eliciting a low growl and a stare from the half-orc. Stories of war and of slaughter were what he enjoyed the most.
“Right, we know what she was doing at the time. But how did she meet your father, was he a mercenary too?”
“No, he was caught in Tormin by the siege, a minstrel by trade. After many months of small skirmishes the time for an all-out assault finally had come. However, for that to happen, somebody had to open the gates first…”

Some twenty years earlier, Tormin’s old sewer system

“By the Gods, why couldn’t we storm the gate like normal people?! Why did we have to wade in all this…”
“Shut up, Leit, you know the task.”
“Yeah, but…”
“I said shut up, Leit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The whining of her foremost hireling was nothing new, but Issa had little patience for him at present. She was fully aware that nobody sane would crawl where they did now, but there was nothing to be done about it. Orders from Up Above. The siege was taking too long, and apparently their enemy had far greater stockpiles than expected. And so now they had to sneak in under cover of night and open for the rest of the army, though how they would explain the smell to any guard that happened to pass on by she had no idea.

The maps of the sewer Command had dug up were old, the city above had long since expanded beyond the original system and so they had little clue where they’d come out. Luck apparently was on their side, however, and they made it to a small, quiet square in the old part of town. Too far away from the gates to reach undetected, but close to the mansion of the Chancellor. If they could eliminate him, then the war would be over in a single fell swoop.

Issa shared this sudden change of plan with the twenty or so men following her, fully expecting Leit to make a scene. To his credit he maintained silence with a determined look on his face. The company split up, one half going for the front, and the other looking for the servant entrance.

Their luck struck again as they found the back door unlocked. Issa wondered in passing if it could be a trap, but they had gotten this far, there was no turning back now. Making their way through the sleeping quarters for the servants they eventually reached a large hall with a staircase leading to the upper floor.
“Good evening. We’ve been expecting you.”
Issa froze momentarily – a trap! Her eyes darted left and right, but Leit and his group was nowhere to be seen. Possible scenarios were racing in her head as she counted the concealed figures watching from above – at least twice as many as she had with her, more than enough to pin them to the ground before any had the chance to retaliate.
“Don’t worry about your friends outside.” The same voice again. “They are currently negotiating their surrender to my city guard.”
My city guard? So they were at the right place, merely at the wrong time.

The inn

Deh looked at me with disbelief, on his face written the question that he was about to voice.
“How they got away, you ask? Simple – Issa weighed her options and then bolted for the exit. None of those who accompanied her there survived, and she herself was shot in the back. The Chancellor was so sure of his ambush that nobody bothered to close off their escape. From the mansion she ran wherever her legs would take her, quickly losing blood and strength. Eventually she became too exhausted, stopping to try and catch her breath. Behind enemy lines and bleeding profusely, she had no chance. It was then that she saw a face peeking from a window opposite the house she was leaning on. Too weak to hide she sat on the gravel, waiting for the end to come. Barely holding on to consciousness Issa felt someone pick her up, and then blanked out…”

Tormin, twenty years earlier

“Now what do I do? Passed out. Wonderful, just wonderful. And that smell…” Kaldar set the body down as gently as he could and then sprinted towards the temple. There with pleas and promises and eventually a handful of gold he found a man willing to help with no questions asked. After taking care of that, the bard thought to mask the bloody trail leading straight to his home. The task proved easier than he anticipated, as the road itself was a far cry from clean, nobody would notice a bit more dirt thrown here and there.
When finally he got back he saw the healer next to the bed, bolt in hand.
“You’re in luck; I managed to treat her in the nick of time - another half hour and she’d be gone. But she should be fine now, up and about in a few days with no long-term complications.”
Kaldar gave him another purse so as to not mention the incident and then sent him on his way.

The inn

“And he kept his promise, never speaking of that night or the mysterious armored woman whose life he had saved. While bedridden, Issa got to know Kaldar, and when the siege was finally lifted several months later the two left together. About half a year later I was born in a hospital in Xinar, where we lived until I turned five. Over the years both were growing more and more anxious, until eventually they left me with a friendly family and went on their separate ways. I see Kaldar every year or so at one of the bigger festivals, Issa I’ve seen only once while on a short visit to Melion. She was the commander of a wealthy merchant’s guard, but when I returned to the city some months later, they were gone.”
“That sounds… terrible. What sort of parents just abandon their child?” Deh sounded just like me at the time.
“You’ll find that every situation can be viewed from at least two different angles, often more. At the age of six I discovered my love for the flute, and at seven I parted with my foster parents to look for a master. Considering all that has happened since, I’m grateful to them for giving me the chance at a fresh life, to make of it what I could, unburdened of their past. I could very well have grown to become a farmhand, or possibly sitting at a tavern not unlike this one, waiting for a wandering adventurer to ask for help. Heh… But such thoughts are best left for nothing but artistic inspiration, and besides, it’s time to sleep!”