Runelords 25.1 - Standing Up Against the Darkness

After retaking Fort Rannick, the adventurers returned to Turtleback Ferry, a desperate sort of moroseness about them. They had succeeded in their goal, and the ogre threat had passed, but the escape of the lamia Lucretia and her revelations regarding the machinations of her master, the long-thought-dead Karzoug, had left them panicked and demoralized. The lamias' forces were on the move, and would be in Sandpoint in twelve days; if would take them well more than twenty to reach the same. They were wounded, exhausted, and out of magical energy. Further, Virgil was magically blinded, and couldn't be restored by the mayor until the next morning. The Black Arrow forces resolved to stay in Fort Rannick for the night, but insisted the five return at dawn to discuss what they would do next.
Eamon took Virgil to the inn, guiding him in his sightlessness and putting him safely on a bed. He left presently to get them both food, seeing as they had been fighting well through the whole day, and it was now nearly night. They ate in silence in their room, and once the sounds of clinking and chewing were gone, nothing took their place. Eamon lay collapsed in a heap on one of the beds, while Virgil sat hunched over on the other, cross-legged and staring at nothing.
Much later, long after the sun had set and plunged the room into darkness, Virgil asked, not loudly, questioning the darkness,"...Is someone still there?"
Eamon's voice was almost equally quiet, with a distant vagueness, "Of course. Is everything alright? Is there anything you need?"
Virgil shook his head, "...No." He repositioned himself, and took one of his swords off of his belt. He hadn't gotten undressed from their earlier fights, still wearing his chainmail and weaponry, though he had stripped himself of the blood and grime with his magic. He put the sword, still sheathed, point down on the bed and leaned on it, hand lightly moving over the hilt. He spoke quietly, "It's just...I live in a world where I can and do get attacked at any moment. It's...hard, not being able to see." He drummed his fingers up and down the hilt, "I can't relax. I can't sleep."
After a pause, Eamon replied slowly, "I understand. I am...sorry. It must be tremendously uncomfortable." He was silent for another few beats, before adding, "You should still try to rest. You are in no danger; I am here."
"I know..." he muttered, but made no effort to move. "...It's no different when my eyes are open or closed. It's disorienting." He drummed his fingers, "This is a really shitty spell. I hate when people use it, and a lot of people do. I wish it was my first time getting hit with it, but it's not." He was quiet for another few minutes, before he asked, "How are you?"
"I am fine," he replied simply, shifting position with a soft sigh. "Perfectly fine."
"Don't lie," Virgil said, with a gentle firmness. "Please." He hunched over slightly more, staring sightlessly. "Nothing's fine. You aren't. I'm not. The situation's not. But, I can't help if we pretend nothing's wrong."
It was a long moment before Eamon spoke again. His voice held a disconcerting amount of detachment as he murmured, "You're right, of course. Nothing is fine at all, everything is wrong. Terribly wrong. But what is there for it? It's too late now, The situation is beyond too far gone to do anything remotely effective about it. Best to move forward and focus on the task at hand, lest it become all the worse by being for naught." He paused to scrub his hands across his face and through his hair, sighing heavily,"That is what landed us here, that is what we have left: hunting down this Karzoug fellow and mitigating the suffering his compatriots are causing." He gave a hollow snort of laughter, "I suppose its a small comfort knowing that such is what we are doing, now, as opposed to fumbling about in the dark without a clue. Excuse the turn of phrase, if you would."
Virgil chuckled sadly at the poor pun. He was quiet for a minute, staring blankly, before he asked, voice so low that it was nearly a whisper, "...Can you come here?" 
"Of course." The other man said softly, getting up and moving to stand next to the bed Virgil was sitting on. "I am here." 
Virgil groped about lightly with his right hand, searching for Eamon's. Finding it, he laced his fingers around the other man's and held it firmly, grounding himself. "Thank you..." he said, just as quietly as before, still clutching his sword with his left. He was silent for a moment again, before closing his eyes and saying sadly, "I'm sorry." 
"I...What for?" Confusion was plain in Eamon's voice as he regarded their hands, adding, "There is no need for you to apologize."
Shaking his head almost imperceptibly, he expanded, "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I'm sorry...that I ignored the mission, and got you involved with this. We shouldn't have; I should have found other adventurers in Medinipur to go to Turtleback. Probably shouldn't have gone to Medinipur at all. I should have known...something like this would happen, that we really weren't supposed to do what we did, and we'd get punished. But..." he clenched his hand, and Eamon could feel it tighten, "...But I can't not help. I can't see something like goblins or ghouls or cults or Kamuns and not do something, because...because that's what I've always done. How can I not?" He still clutched Eamon tightly as he continued, "But I shouldn't have. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I caused you to lose so much. I wish I could take it back, but I can't and I'm sorry. I knew better." Eamon could feel his hand shake slightly as he said, "Now...now I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop this. I don't know how to get to Karzoug; we can't get to Sandpoint in less than twelve days without magic we don't have; Turtleback and Medinipur still aren't safe but we can't stay in either because we have to go to Sandpoint, and Jorgenfist, and Xin-Shalast. People are going to die in every one of those places but there's only one of me and I can't stop that from happening. The best I can hope for is to stop a twenty-five hundred year old near-mythic tyrannical archmage from causing world war. And I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to do that with so few people, and so little magic, and so little time." He gave a shuddered sigh, "I just know I have to."
There was a few beats of silence before Eamon replied. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to the other man, he said slowly, "Nothing that happened is your fault. You and Khyrralien are my team; if the responsibility for anything that has befallen us lies anywhere, it is with myself. I should never have deviated from protocol the way that I did, for the sake of all of us. When the mission went awry, I should have reported it immediately, or at the very least as soon as I was unsummoned. I did not. That is what has gotten us into this situation. And so it is I who should be apologizing to you." After a moment of hesitation he gave Virgil's hand an uncertain squeeze adding, his voice even quieter, "And I am sorry, for all that I have allowed to happen to us....However...I do not regret it, in spite of everything... Perhaps I should, but I do not. Helping people, limiting their suffering, protecting them from evil, even at cost to ourselves, that is what we are supposed to do, is it not? That is why we are here...At least, that is true of myself, I feel." At that statement, Virgil got a strange look on his face, something somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Eamon continued, "So...so in spite of anything else that might be...happening...I do not regret doing this before, and I will continue to do so, particularly as this seems to be where I...will be...from here on out..." He trailed off and sighed heavily, "We will find a way, I am certain. There is always a way, and so far we have done well to find it. Do not despair. You are not doing this alone; I am with you. We have Khyrralien, and Luna, and Aldern." Slowly, brokenly, Virgil began to chuckle. Eamon looked confused, "What?"
He replied, "That is what we're supposed to do. Or, what I'm supposed to do. It's what adventurers do. That's why I was trying to do that, rather than follow orders...I guess." He considered thoughtfully, "Everything's...muddled. All of my past human memories are old, and everything from when I was a devil is...faded and strange, and it's like I don't remember why I was really doing anything. But, that...protecting people...that's what I'm supposed to do. It's what I was always supposed to do. But, that's not really Pandemonium's highest priority, and I don't think I ever really cared about Pandemonium's protocol, and that's why I'm sorry." He shook his head, "But I know this isn't really my fault, or your fault. We both should have known better, but..." he smiled sadly and knowingly, "we did know. We knew it was against Pandemonium protocol and Materian protocol, but people were in trouble and we had to help, and even if it had been spelled out before we went to the reservoir, or Turtleback, or Sandpoint, we'd have done it anyway. At least, I would have done it anyway." He sighed and squeezed Eamon's hand, "I want to help. I still feel like this is at least partially my fault, and you've been so withdrawn. I just...don't want you to feel like you're alone, I guess."
When Eamon finally responded, he simply said quietly, "...Thank you..." As he did, he leaned over just slightly, pushing into Virgil's side. 
Feeling that, Virgil moved to wrap his arm around the younger man, pulling him tightly into a one-armed hug while letting his hold on his sword loosen, though not enough to drop it completely. After a long silence, he muttered, "I don't know how we're going to win..." Eamon could practically feel the smile infusing Virgil's voice as he continued, "But we have to. So I guess we're going to figure it out."
"Oh, we will," Eamon said firmly, as he softened into the embrace slightly. "At no point has it been a question of 'if' we would succeed, simply how. We have no lack of ability, nor drive. Although," he conceded, "we could use some more magic right now, particularly that of the travelling variety."
"Tell me about it..." Virgil agreed, leaning into Eamon still. He seemed to think deeply for a moment, before he declared, "...I don't even know anyone with that sort of magic...I mean, I know some people, and they've got skills, but...not what we need..." He trailed off into thought, and began to mutter more to himself than to Eamon, "...Uncle Ryu can't teleport more than himself, unless he got better equipment...The doc...isn't right for this situation...The Few just won't. Not with something like this..." He seemed to continue racking his brain for a solution.
With a low, resigned voice, Eamon mumbled, "Getting in contact with Pandemonium would probably be prudent, about now..." He sighed heavily, "I ought to do that. Tomorrow."
Virgil paused and seemed to consider that. "...Do you want me to report with you? Or would you rather privacy?"
Eamon blinked. "I...don't know, at this point. ...I do not know."
"...Well, I should be present," he declared. A wry grin crept across his face, "My file is the one that reads 'Materian expert', not yours, so I should be due for a reprimand as well." He chuckled lightly, "Also, you probably still need me to cast the Sending spell anyway."
Eamon frowned over at him momentarily, then gave a quiet, equally wry snort, "I suppose you do have a valid argument there at least; I will need your expertise to cast it. I would not have you join me simply for reprimand; that would be harsh. Do you think we ought to have Khyrralien join us? For completeness' sake? Although I personally feel he would be more harm than good in any plea for lenience we might make..."
Virgil chuckled, "Khyrralien is a great guy to have around for some situations. But, maybe not all situations." Still chuckling, he said, "Besides, the only person who really matters in this exchange is you. Khyr and I aren't even afterthoughts to Pandemonium. I'll report, and I will gladly shift blame from you to me, because let's be honest: I was on probation anyway. I was never really part of Pandemonium, and they will be more than happy to be rid of me. Same for Khyr. If we haven't already been forgotten, then we will be as soon as the report goes in. But if there's anything they can or will do for you, I'll gladly make this my fault so that there's no black marks on your record."
With a sharp snort, Eamon shook his head, saying with his old firmness, "You will do nothing of the sort. Regardless of whatever standing the rest of Pandemonium may hold you in, you two are my men and shall be treated fairly as such. There will be no shifting of blame or indulging of their...more prejudiced tendencies, in this matter or any other." His voice dropped once more, "Both blame and reprimand shall be received where they are due."
Giving the other man's shoulder a squeeze, Virgil said brightly, "So I should be there to receive mine myself!" This earned another snort from Eamon. Smiling, he said more gently, "We'll call them together tomorrow morning, before we go to the fort. We're in this together, after all. Then we get to figure out how we're going to stop a twenty-five hundred year old archmage and his personality cult. Which will be the precise opposite of fun, I'm sure."
"That sounds like a reasonable proposition." Pursing his lips, he thought for a few moments before shaking his head. "It's certainly going to be a challenge, there is no question about that."
"Well...what's life without challenge, right?" he asked. He chuckled, but broke himself off with a yawn. Shaking his head, he commented, "Exercise hits a lot harder as a Materian. I forgot, I guess. Ugh."
"Everything is much harder as a Materian..." Eamon murmured. With a shake of his head, he pulled away from the other man and stood up. Virgil's hand followed after him as he rose, but he let it fell back as Eamon stepped away. The blinded man curled up slightly on himself, looking almost bereft as he clutched his sword once more. Eamon gave a bit of a stretch as he continued, "It was a strenuous day; you have every right to be tired. Rest would probably be a wise choice, particularly considering what tomorrow promises. Would you like help with anything? I'd wager your mail and swords will prove less than comfortable as sleeping attire."
"No. No, it's fine," he assured as he pushed himself backwards, pressing himself up against the bed's headboard. "I've slept in them before, I'll do it again. Like I said, I've been hit with this spell before. I really can't relax, and taking off my armor will just make it worse." He smiled still, "Don't worry! I'm fine," as he hunkered into a position that could only be described as defensive, hand on hilt. "I'll get this cured as early as possible tomorrow, then we'll contact Pandemonium. Can't really cast from a scroll if I can't see it." He set his posture, and looked as though he was trying to force himself into rest.
Turning towards Virgil once more, Eamon regarded him with no small measure of concern. There was a few long moments as he stood still and silent, his face a picture of uncertainty. Eventually, with a soft sigh, he moved to rejoin Virgil on the bed. "Forgive me, please..." he said softly, scooting close so as to be pressed against him once more. Virgil looked up sightlessly upon feeling the motion on the bed, and a faint smile touched his mouth as Eamon continued, "I am still working out the intricacies of informal interaction. It...is confusing." As he spoke, he reached over to gently shoo Virgil's hand from his sword, "I will stay with you here tonight. You needed only to ask; I do not mind."
"Heh," Virgil said quietly, "Well, don't worry: almost everyone finds 'informal interaction' confusing. No one can agree on anything, so everyone's got different rules." He leaned up back against the headboard, visibly more relaxed than a moment before, moving his sword carefully to one side and taking hold of Eamon's hand. "You'll figure out what seems right to you."
"Well, that's helpful," he snorted, a wry smile evident in his tone. He shifted about slightly, making himself more comfortable and let his head rest on Virgil's shoulder. Closing his eyes, he twined his finger's with the other man's and added, "However, I suppose it does take the pressure off. Which is pleasant." 
"For the plane of Law, it's surprising how often there are no wrong answers..." Virgil muttered, a small grin on his mouth. He settled back, the fatigue of the day catching up with him quickly once the stress of being blind was alleviated slightly. He added softly, "Don't feel like you have to stay here all night. At least, you'll want to lie down, or you'll probably hurt your neck. That really won't help tomorrow any." 
"It is not like I have anywhere else to be, and sitting here is not unpleasant. If it becomes uncomfortable I shall address it, but for now, this is fine." Eamon shrugged, "I did not forsee much in the way of sleep for myself anyway." 
"Heh. Go to sleep, Eamon," Virgil demanded good naturedly, as he himself closed his eyes, earning a snort from the other man. His breathing became regular as he drifted off to sleep, still holding Eamon's hand. For a while Eamon sat awake, lost in thought, but it wasn't long before his prediction was proven wrong, as the warmth of Virgil's body and his rhythmic breathing served to gently draw the other man down into realm of sleep as well. 
Category:Rise of the Runelords