Went on a few patrols with Falconrath. Aryn gives me his pain with every step. Spoke with some shepherds and other pastorals, warning them of the imminence of Draekan attacks. By Aryn’s grace, we ran into no trouble.
When we were in the mess hall in the evening, overheard Macwin’s men discussing Adela’s alleged failure to follow orders. They have orders to off her. Sharan filth. I hope that Elwrit was not the source of this order. Her help has been a blessing – she very well may be an ally. With the order to bring Rar before the king, I considered that this may be a time to act.
Falconrath decided to approach Elwrit to see if he was indeed the source of the order. He discovered that the order had indeed come from Elwrit, but that Elwrit claimed she was just to be apprehended.
I approach Falconrath with a proposition to liberate Rar, with the aim of getting him out of the King’s clutches. If Aryn wills it, I will join Rar.
I suggest to Falconrath that we encourage Rar to escape and create a distraction to do so. Realizing that the sex-deprived and ignorant men of camp will be easy to manipulate, we insinuate that Murial will prize the strongest and most virile of men. We work to instigate a competition to occur in front of Murial’s window.
Our plan did not come to fruition. In a storm, Draeken attacked our barracks in the night. Cadyrn and I roused from our beds with the sound of a man’s death. Aryn’s will suffused me and I brought his death in arcs. Aryn’s glorious agony focused my swings and the thing clamored for its death. I threw him off his attack on Cadyrn, setting him back on his heals as Cadayrn advanced upon him.
I realized my mission and—trying to throw the Draeken off his mark—pretended to shout for Rar in behind the Draeken, who, unphased, I left to battle Cadaryn his other opponent as I ran to Rar.
The surges of the Arcadian Host pulling me forward, I made my way into Rar’s barracks to see him beheading his foe. Aryn watches him, and he is mighty. I kept eyes on him as he continued to unleash his fury, punching his own wound to keep his mind focused on the lament of Aryn.
As the last of the Draeken in the barracks lay dead, Cadaryn and Falconrath rallied their men. Someone, maybe Falconrath, called out that there were Draeken in the keep. I saw that Aryn gave me passage to take the White Human out of this trouble, I asked him would he run or fight, but I already knew the answer. He would not go, not with the Fury of Aryn in him. I felt it too. Through darkness, the light of our escape!
Rar and I advanced on the keep, my body rebelling against Aryn’s wisdom. I mortified it and advancing with His speed to catch up with Rar’s long strides. Once inside, I unleashed His fury on one of the draeken within. A Draeken commander called for a subordinate to capture Rar, and he through a lasso around Rar’s neck, trying to drag him out of the keep. I attacked him, as did everyone else in the room and I saw Murial’s arrow pierce its throat with an eerie crack.
My body rebelled again as I limped toward my foe. Another draeken jumped from the balcony of the keep to take the rope around Rar’s neck, it took another arrow from Murial. I charged him and swung mightily, cracking the things ribs through his torso. Rar buried his axe in his head. The final draeken fell from the balcony, thrown by the Crimson Guard.
I have learned from Murial that Macwin was possessed by a fiend. It occurs to me that aethyr-wrought beings may have inhabited others, and I am looking into their eyes for signs of the darkness . . . my wound pains me; Aryn keeps me focused, keeps me pure. The blackshods and the draeken fall – an opportunity to bring Rar to the church closes in.