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Combat Chaos - Story 6
D&D - Combat Chaos, Fantasy Stories of Battle

Story 6



A company of adventurers were staying at the inn this evening. Kysandra melded into the shadows at the back of the tavern, sipping at her foaming mug of ale. She detested the intrepid fools, adventurers. It seemed they were always out to ruin her business. The company was gathered around a well worn oaken table that had seen it's share of ale spills. They toasted and sang, shouted and told stories. It was all too annoying for the assassin. This would be her last ale, and then she would move on the the next tavern, looking for more work.

The leader was a square bearded, sturdy looking young man. Gold gleamed and winked in the firelight at his ears and his throat, upon his fingers, and at his belt. Next to him sat an elf, a longbow resting easily at his side. There was also a dwarf, considerably rare in these parts of Vastonia, for the Goblin Wars had almost left the race completely extinct. A mage sat at the table with them, but he seemed more intent upon observing the people in the tavern than telling over exaggerated tales. For a moment he locked eyes with Kysandra, and that was when she decided it was time to leave. She would rather leave alive this evening, rather than full of arrows and daggers.

Gathering her dark cloak around her, the assassin checked all of her possessions, to make sure she had not been thieved from. Everything there, she rose up, and headed towards the door, when someone crashed into her. Kysandra fell on the wooden floor with considerable force as ale spilled all over her chest, totally soaking her. She cursed under her breath as she rung her shirt out. Standing and drawing a dagger, she looked at the dolt who had crashed into her. It was a young, lean girl of no more than twenty years. Surveying the area quickly, Kysandra noted there had been plenty of walk room, and found it highly unlikely the collision was an accident. Holding the gleaming blade of the dagger to the girls throat, she spoke coarsely, "Mind your way, bitch, or someone will find you cut up and dry in the morning."

The girl seemed not to take this as a threat, for reasons unknown to Kysandra. "Is everything all right, Tendra?" spoke the voice of the leader of adventurers, his eyes firmly fixed upon Kysandra. "Just fine," she returned. "It seems this... assassin... owes me an apology." The assassin cursed, realizing the girl was with the adventurers. She sheathed her dagger, not wanting to wind up dead, and started for the door once again, not bothering to answer the girl. The rattling chain of a flail was all she needed to turn her around. She spun around swiftly, and had a dagger in each hand before Tendra could even think of making an attack. "Jumpy, are we? Tendra spoke mockingly as she tightly gripped a large flail. The dwarf started to unbuckle his battle axe, but the leader of the company stopped him. "This is their fight, let them fight it." Tendra twirled the flail in the air, mocking her opponent with her laid back stance. The assassin stood there too, waiting for the attack to come. When it did, she was fully prepared. The flail sailed through the air, on target with Kysandra's head.

The assassin deftly dodged to the side as the heavier flail crushed a table in place of her. The innkeeper shook his head, and put his face in his hands. He knew it was all to dangerous to intervene in fights such as these. Tendra struggled for a moment to pry the flail from the broken, twisted boards of the table. Any advantage the assassin could take, she did, not giving a damn about honor. She hurled her dagger at the back of the girl, hoping for a killing blow. To her ultimate dismay, the blade slowed down, and finally fell on the ground. The assassin looked back, and the mage winked at her. Cursing had seemed to become a part of her day, so she did it again. The interruption nearly killer her, for Tendra swung the flail at Kysandra when she looked to the mage. Ducking the overpowerful swing, she caught Tendra off balance.

Using the dagger's hilt to ensure a solid blow, the assassin connected her fist with the bitches jaw, sending an arch of blood through the air. A few of the commoners, intently watching the battle, ooed and awed at the sheer power and skill that was displayed in the punch. Tendra caught her balance quickly, and even though her head ached, went for another attack. The flail sailed through the air once more, this time with less power and more accuracy. The assassin had to put her hand on a nearby table to support herself, and to avoid the flail turning her head into a bloody pudding. Unfortunately, the flail struck hard on the table directly where she placed her hand. The spiked iron ball at the end of a chain on a pole gains a lot of momentum when being swung, even if little power is put into it. The weapon turned every bone in Kysandra's hand into pulp. Blood splattered across the table, and when the assassin went to pull her hand away from the weapon, which was now imbedded in the table, it tore the assassins hand off at the wrist.

Dark red blood sprayed from the severed wrist every time the girls heart beat. Screaming, she stabbed furiously at her attacker. The short blade of the dagger connected with Tendra's stomach. Kysandra pushed Tendra away, leaving the blade imbedded in her side. The crowd at the sight of so much blood, but a few people were sickened by it, and the innkeeper was one of them. Just then the door burst open, letting the cold evening air in. Five heavily armed soldiers began to spread out, preparing to apprehend these bowlers, who were violating the law. Kysandra decided she was not going to spend one night in that filthy prison. Clutching her wrist, Kysandra dashed up the stairs, planning on escaping through the second level window. As she reached the top, she turned around to view the situation.

One soldier was at the bottom of the stairs and getting closer. The others were either taking Tendra prisoner, or standing guard at the door. With not much time to think, Kysandra pulled out a tiny, hand held crossbow with her good hand. Thanking the gods it was already loaded, she fired the single bolt. It sped forth with deadly accuracy, striking Tendra in the heart. The look on the bitch's face was worth it all, even loosing the hand. She knew she would probably not escape capture, judging by her wound, but the image of the expression on the girls face was now hers to keep, and no one could take it away from her.

By: Calvin Cockell

* Coat of Arms 1.2a
* Promisance
* World of Phaos 0.9.2
Is Magic Armor Lighter Than Standard Armor of the Same Type?
Yes indeed
No, never!
In 1E yes, in 2E no
Only for encumbrance
Of course it is
Not in my world
* And-Mag.com

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