The journey homeward passes in silence, but when you arrive back, you are greeted by cheers. The gathered populace of Bastion stands before you, a number of familiar figures amongst them. The cheering barely quiets as the crowd catches sight of the body. Then silence begins to spread, starting from a single dwarf - Ironwrit. An aisle forms, to the great gates of the city, and as the king takes Ryxa in hand and starts to walk, Ironwrit falls in behind you.
The Myrmidon receives a full dwarven funeral - the halls of the city echo with the sound of clashing tankards for days, and the body rests in a crystal glass coffin. Mru’shkane is left sheathed, for no one present can remove it, and a memorial built around it besides her resting place in the catacombs. She receives burial in the hall of heroes, alongside the other legends of the Dwarven empire. Her face rests peaceful beneath the glass, her wounds concealed. Her tattoo twists, and changes, taking the shape of crossed swords - the sign of one who died honourably. A tiny speck of silver fluid shimmers lightly on the brim of her lips, barely visible.
The king himself ends the funeral, speaking in her honour. ‘We have gathered these past days to celebrate the life, and mourn the death, of the one called Ryxa. She came here but a week ago, a stranger, yet prepared to die for our city. And so, to our great sorrow, she did. I cannot tell you exactly how she perished, for your own sakes, but know only that without her sacrifice we would not be standing here today. It has however, made one change which I can tell you of. I am hereby resigning as your king.’ A roar echoes throughout the cavern where you stand, and seems to take an age to die down. ‘I leave my hammer and crown to he who is voted my successor, and wish them luck. For there are things I have to deal with, which could only bring misfortune on those under my rule. Thus, I bid you goodbye.’
Some time later, he arrives at your chambers. He stands unarmoured for the first time since you met him, and his head seems humbled by the absence of it’s crown. He presses a letter into your hands, and pausing only to say, ‘Goodbye, and good luck,’ he departs. The note itself is marked with the royal seal, and is in the king’s own hand.
I am forever in your debt, friends. But it is a debt I cannot repay. The seal on this letter will guarantee you full authority with any in the empire, but it feels like a mere token gesture in light of all you have given me. Thus, in place of reward, I offer explanation.
I am not all I appear to be. You have probably already gleaned this. My nature is not mortal, but demonic. I have witnessed this world since it’s beginning, and only amongst the Dwarves have I ever felt at home. Thus, when they were on the verge of breaking, I forged them back together. I founded this city, where you now stand, as a symbol of all that this empire could herald. And thus those who would see it doomed sought to end it. Vaydesh is one such. A demon also, and one less sympathetically inclined than myself. He has hounded me for eternity, seeking always to destroy what I build. No more. If I did not know the gods, I would claim that they had sent you. For you have saved not only me, but the whole of my realm.
Kyle, the ship you arrived in from Central City truly was a routine shipment, looking for guards. Krom, the village you stumbled upon was Stonehold, destroyed centuries ago by an attack from Vaydesh himself, I believe. There were no survivors, so I can only assume. Since then, dragons are rarely seen, and we believed here safe to settle. That was foolish of me. As for your capture there, I can only assume they seeked to recruit you - in the same manner they recruited those with the skulls made of shadow. Vaydesh never was one for subtle methods.
I myself have probably left as you read this. There are more like me and Vaydesh, and they do not all match my temperament. The heroism of your friend has made me see that this cannot be allowed to continue. I have eternity to live my life. It is nothing for me to devote even a century of it to pursuing my fallen brothers. I wish you luck, as I hope you would wish me.
Farewell, friends.
Kyle and Krom both departed for central city the following day, using the seal to ensure passage. They sought the alchemist the innkeeper had mentioned on their first night in bastion, and they found him. He made Kyle back into flesh, and asked in return for a single favour, repayable when asked. This was agreed.
Then the two returned to Bastion, and held vigil at their fellow’s grave. They parted ways here - Krom sought to return to a peaceful way of life, and Kyle quite the opposite.
The troll departed for his own kind, taking with him the scroll, and the other strange artifacts. His roaming eventually led him back to the village of his birth, very much the wiser. The people there took him back in with joy, for they had fallen upon hard times, and with his guidance and magic they began to prosper. He built for himself a tower, and stored there all he had come across in his travels, surrounded by his prospering town.
The thief took with him the seal, and with a dwarven ship under him, sailed in search of adventure. This thirst was satisfied by a brief encounter with a rival captain, ending in Kyle’s victory. He took the man’s rank, and with his new-found crew took to a life of piracy on the high seas.
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Topic: The Lone Isle RPG : Concluded. (Read 29857 times)