A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Beckyann Short Number 28

The scream cut through the night, echoing oddly within the dark confines of the forest. It was the voice of a male human, his tone crying out with agony. Beckyann winced when she heard it, leaning over to poke at the campfire before her with a stick. She waited a moment, hoping the screams would die off but they rose in pitch and intensity. With a small huff and a roll of her eyes she rose, uncrossing her legs beneath her as she stood and walked to the edge of the fire's light.

There a man lay beneath a bundle of blankets, his face drenched with sweat and his body thrashing beneath the covers. Beckyann knelt down beside him, examining him with a critical eye before clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Would you shut the fel up already?" she said in a low tone. "You're going to attract animals down on the camp or worse. This is the Plaguelands, not some clearing in Elwynn!"

Of course the man gave no response, merely thrashing more until Beckyann was forced to remove her hand from over his mouth. She rolled her eyes again, leaning and picking up a canteen that was laying beside the man. Gingerly she spilled some water onto a cloth and used it to dab at his forehead. After a few more loud screams his distress lessened a little and he resumed the moaning and unintelligible muttering he'd been doing previously. Beckyann sighed with relief, but the feeling was short lived as she heard the sound of armored figures pushing through the foliage.

In an instant Beckyann rose from where she'd been crouched down beside the man, her runeblade drawn in a smooth motion. The blade glittered with deadly intent in the light of the campfire as she stared into the darkened woods around the camp, watching as shadows emerged and became the outlines of figures approaching.

"In the name of the 1113th and the Knights of the Ebon Blade I order you to halt and identify yourself!" Beckyann's voice cried out. Her tone was steady and brooked no argument.

A response came from the approaching figures, one that made Beckyann wince slightly. A male voice carried back to her, "Captain Nathan Gathers, of the Argent Crusade. I approach the camp with five retainers!"

And so it was true. As the group emerged from the darkness of night, Beckyann could clearly see that there were six of them, and that each wore the standard tabard of the Crusade. Besides the captain, it appeared that the man had at least one magic user and a skilled scout judging by their equipment and clothing. Beckyann almost felt the need to curse in frustration.

The Captain walked closer, examining the small campfire, the armed death knight, and the man laying under the covers, clearly sick. He drew himself up and gave Beckyann a hard stare, "What goes on here? We heard screams in the night."

Beckyann lowered her weapon, glancing back at the man and thinking fast, the lie coming to her lips as easily as breathing was for the living, "We were attacked. He took a wound and is resting. I will escort him to Hearthglen in the morning."

The Argent Captain nodded at this, his face grim, "Fear not, we're on patrol here and can scour the region for the attackers. Which way did they go?"

Beckyann randomly chose a direction and pointed, sheathing her runeblade as she spoke, "To the north. I'm sure they are long gone by now, it was quite some time ago."

The Captain merely nodded and gestured. One of his men, the one who appeared to be a scout, headed off in that direction, scanning the ground. Beckyann watched him with some degree of anxiety before she noticed something worse; one of the Crusaders was approaching the injured man, kneeling down beside him. He had a holy symbol in his hand. A paladin then.

She turned her gaze back to the Captain, even as a damning report was called out from the woods around them. The scout's voice carried in the night, "Sir, there are no tracks here nor signs of a struggle."

The Captain turned his gaze back on Beckyann again, his expression doubtful. Upon seeing the look, Beckyann shrugged and quickly added to her tale, "We were attacked at some distance. I used magic to drive him off so perhaps the footprints are obscured."

After a moment the Captain nodded, seeming to accept this explanation and Beckyann felt a surge of relief pass through her. The Captain walked past her, approaching the kneeling paladin. "How is he?"

The paladin looked up at the Captain, confusion evident on his face, "Sir, I can find no wound on the man. He's clearly ill but he hasn't been struck with anything..."

The Captain blinked once and then turned to look at Beckyann again, his expression less cordial now. "Care to explain miss?"

Beckyann's eyes widened and she stammered out a reply, "H-he uh, it w-was magic that struck him, not an arrow. T-that's why he can't find any wounds!"

"She lies," a voice cut in. Beckyann and the Captain both turned to see the magic user with the patrol standing and leaning on his staff, his eyes closed. "No magic has been used in or about this camp this evening, unless it was extremely weak magic. Certainly this death knight has not used her necromancy to drive off a foe unless she is a trainee with no power whatsoever. The woman is lying sir."

The sound of swords being drawn accompanied the words as the rest of the Argent Crusade retainers drew their weapons, naked steel pointed at Beckyann from all sides. The Captain drew himself up, hands on his hips as he stared Beckyann down. She could feel the eyes of the others boring into her, the sensation making her skin crawl.

"Explain yourself. Now," the Captain said, his tone cold.

Beckyann looked from one person to another, biting her lip in frustration. Angry, suspicious faces glared back at her. Finally she planted her own fists firmly on her hips and yelled, "FINE! FINE! YOU WANT TO KNOW?! HE KISSED ME ALRIGHT?!"

Six pairs of eyes exchanged glances and the Captain looked at Beckyann with a curious expression on his face, "Wait, he...kissed you? Did you just say that he kissed you miss?"

Beckyann threw her hands up in the air in frustration and then looked away from the man, her eyes staring into the campfire. "Yes, I said he kissed me. Are you deaf? He placed his lips on mine and his tongue in my mouth and now he's got plague. Probably a blood plague. Have your healer focus on curing diseases and he'll be fine."

After a moment's pause the Captain gestured and the paladin kneeling beside the man nodded. He muttered a prayer and a small amount of Light bathed the man. Almost immediately his breathing became more steady and he sighed in relief, falling into a more natural slumber. The paladin looked back to the Captain, nodding. By this time, smirks had stared to creep across the faces of several of the Crusaders and one of them even elbowed his companion. Beckyann felt an unusual sense of embarrassment flowing through her.

To add to her humiliation, the Captain now had a grin on his face as he turned back to her, his voice tinged with amusement, "And why did you kiss him, if it would injure him Miss?"

Beckyann glared hatefully at the man, her words hissing out, "I didn't kiss HIM, HE kissed ME. What part of this don't you understand? I came into his camp because I noticed the fire in the night. I approached the man. We talked for a while, he made small talk with me and then the daft fool leaned over and began kissing me like I'm some country lass that he's gone to the Faire with! And STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

Now several of the crusaders outright began to chuckle. If Beckyann still had a beating heart her face would have been a bright red hue by now, and as it was, even her most baleful glare could not silence them. She turned away from the men as they sheathed their weapons, her arms folded tightly across her chest in irritation. Behind her, the Captain approached, his voice more understanding now, "And why didn't you stop him? Clearly this is not your fault, but you should be more careful if you are carrying such plagues miss."

Beckyann didn't turn to face him or the laughing crusaders, her voice came out thin and hollow, "Because for a moment I forgot. For a moment, it felt good to think that someone cared for me or was at least attracted to me. I forgot what I was. Is this inquisition over now? Can I go? Because you clearly do not need me here any longer."

The Captain placed a hand on Beckyann's shoulder, giving it a squeeze of sympathy. "I'm sorry miss. And yes, you are free to go. There's been no crime here other than foolish lust in a man who clearly has learned his lesson."

Beckyann shrugged the reassuring hand off her shoulder and stalked away from the campfire, into the night. Behind her she could hear the laughter of the crusaders echoing through the trees, and she grit her teeth in irritation. She approached the spot where she'd left her deathcharger, and the beast emerged from the undergrowth, hissing at her. She gave it a glare so deadly that even the dead creature paused and bowed it's head.

"Yes, be silent. I'm in no mood for you," Beckyann muttered before she grabbed the reins and mounted up. In a moment she'd spurred the steed hard and it was galloping away, the laughter fading with distance.

It would be many hours before it stopped echoing in her head. How foolish the leftover emotions of life could make one act at times.

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