Anba Beachcombed the Immortal Partner. He had, as I left a trail of bodies of megabeasts and wrongdoers behind me with my iron longsword, managed to kill an ettin, a vampire and a bandit leader with his silver axe. Then the report that soured my life came, halfway round the great mountainous ring that was the world. The last city job, in the catacombs of the capital of the great Northwestern Empire, which I had already rid, with the help of my partner, a vampire, an ettin, and many bandits, not to mention a few other megabeasts and dangerous animals, was to root out a shady band of criminals.
After much wandering, we found underground a long hallway filled with looted weapons and the bodies of peasants. The leader there was arrogant, spat at me, though his companions preferred to hold their silence. In anger, I struck out at the one I was supposed to kill. It was a long and drawn out battle, as his comrades closed in on me, and he turned out to be a great killer and hero himself. But I vanquished him, in that cramped room full of pillars and weapons and skeletons, and slew his five companions where they stood. Anba, in that amoral, dark, desparate struggle struck out at me, perhaps trying to kill the man he knew would become too dangerous for any follower, questing after ever more difficult kills, plotting to bring down gods. Perhaps he regretted the loss of a friend of his empire. Or perhaps he merely panicked.
In my rage, though I regretted it, and still regret it, and shall not stop regretting it... his head rolled. And, though too great a hero to touch, the people of that realm, not my home, but the only one I could take companions from, branded me a killer. I did not destroy the band of otter man outcasts I was meant to find.I eventually slipped away, going after tougher and tougher, mightier and mightier beasts protected by webs and scales and skin of rock and bronze. Some I could not best, some I slew, and though the companion who walked beside me grew to understand and even like me, enjoying the birdsong and natural stillness of the megabeast-controlled empty frozen south, she never forgave me for the murder of her countrymen. I feel, though, she grew to accept me, and would have retired by my side, especially as I slew her God and gifted her the statue it left behind, had I not tried to complete my loop round the great mountains and seas and empty spaces of that land. I broke through the final barrier of goblin scouts and ambushes and armies and fortresses. Like Anba, she did not.
Author
Topic: Your best Nemesis (cough frenemy cough) (Read 3228 times)