Almonihah growled low in his throat. “I'll go after
them.” He turned and ran down the stairs and out of the inn.
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, he saw no sign
of the robed assailants. With a grimace, he took to the air, circling
wider and higher, searching for any sign of them. He still hated
flying, but this was too important to let that get in the way. But
despite his search, he saw nothing that would indicate where they had
gone. And so he landed and looked closely at the ground... there!
Where one of them had jumped from Garkhen's window, he'd left
footprints in the soft ground... but he had soon gotten onto
cobblestones. Still, it gave him a direction.
Meanwhile Garkhen had looked around the room more
thoroughly. The innkeeper had been up to see what the commotion was,
and he had simply informed him that thieves had broken in and stolen
some of his possessions. Once he was again alone, Garkhen had looked
around the room again and noticed that there was a small piece of
black cloth on the ground—likely torn off of one of the attacker's
robes while he had fought them. He knew a spell-prayer that could use
such a thing...
Soon enough he was armed and armored, walking briskly
out into the night. The piece of cloth floated above his outstretched
hand, pointing the way to the rest of the robe. He had never thought
he'd be using a 'lost item' type of spell-prayer in such a manner,
but it seemed to be working.
He was startled to see Almonihah flying towards him.
The half-bronze dragon landed beside him and followed as he led.
Almonihah nodded at the floating piece of cloth.
“That'll lead us to 'em?”
Garkhen nodded slightly in return. “At least to the
robe this was torn from.”
“You make enough noise t' let th' whole town know
you're coming.”
“Let us hope they do not realize what it means.”
They hurried on in silence after that, save for the
sounds of Garkhen's armor. It was difficult to follow the direction
of the spell, as they sometimes had to go around a house to another
street to continue in the indicated direction. Eventually, however,
they reached a house that the little piece of cloth pointed straight
at no matter where they stood.
“Must've taken it in,” Almonihah commented.
“Yes. Now...”
Before Garkhen could finish his thought, Almonihah ran
at the door, drawing Eldereth as he turned to strike it with his
shoulder. He burst through in a shower of splinters as it broke
around the door's latch, and pointed his sword at the first person he
saw within.
“You. Th' men that came here. Where'd they go?”
Garkhen ran to catch up to him, hoping to head off
whatever disaster looked imminent. As he did so, he caught a glimpse
of the man the Ranger was threatening—a large man in a familiar
dark robe, but what caught his eye was the hint of an iron chain
around his neck.
The man looked down at Almonihah's sword, which was now
barely an inch from his throat, and then up at the half-dragon. He
visibly swallowed.
“They... they went... downstairs.” He pointed to a
doorway opposite him.
Without hesitation, Almonihah turned and went through.
Garkhen paused a moment, considering the still-trembling man.
“I am afraid I cannot leave you here to your
devices,” he said, raising his holy symbol. He uttered a
spell-prayer, and his symbol flashed a bright silver light. When the
light faded, the man was perfectly still. Garkhen took a moment to
make certain he was truly locked in place, then followed Almonihah.
There was indeed a staircase down in the next room, but
at the bottom was another door. Almonihah had clearly not had as much
luck breaking through it as he had with the one upstairs, for he was
now hacking at it with Eldereth. He looked up as Garkhen arrived.
“Might do better,” He said, nodding at the stocky
half-blue dragon.
“Perhaps,” Garkhen agreed. He pulled out
Silverflame, lifted it over his head with both hands, and brought it
down with all his might.
His mace smashed through the wood of the door, and then
a swift kick finished its ruin. As soon as he was through, however, a
bolt of fire soared out of the room beyond and struck him in the
chest. Garkhen winced, but sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the
enchantment on his armor that turned what would have been a searing
flame to a comparatively mild heat. It still hurt, certainly, but it
was not lethal.
Close your eyes! Garkhen shouted back to
Almonihah in Draconic, then shouted another spell-prayer, this one
flashing a brilliant light into the room ahead.
When he opened his eyes, Garkhen could see three
black-robed men in the room beyond, all clearly trying to recover
from the blinding light. He charged ahead, and lacking a better
option, punched the nearest of them in the gut with all his strength.
The man fell back, striking his head on the wall as he did so, then
crumpled to the ground. The half-blue dragon stared at him in shock
for a moment, hoping that he had not just killed the man.
Almonihah, however, had no such compunctions. He
charged past Garkhen, plunging Zithrandrak into the chest of one of
the still-recovering men, and slashing the other with Eldereth. Once
he was certain none of them were still a threat, he started searching
them and the room, looking for the Amulet.
“Almonihah!” Garkhen exclaimed, the shock of what
he had seen enough to refocus him. “You... killed those men!”
Almonihah gave him a strange look. “They tried t'
kill you first.” He went back to searching.
“But...” Garkhen was at a loss for words.
Suddenly Almonihah looked up. “Someone else here,”
he said, and charged through a doorway in the back of the room.
*******************
Almonihah is not a nice guy.
Also, I think this shows more clearly than usual the fact that Almonihah and Garkhen are, quite frankly, superhuman. Draezolnian dragons tell the laws of physics to pack up and leave, and while half-dragons aren't as good at it as full dragons, both Almonihah and Garkhen are stronger and tougher than should be possible with their muscle mass. And both of them are quite fit to begin with.
And yes, Garkhen is actually stronger than Almonihah, despite being two feet shorter than him.
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