>>5192324>20 for Roth…As he realizes his error. The Paladin was so eager to rescue the gryphon that he failing to guard against Roth. Though he might not have been the superior fighter, Roth IS a skilled assassin, and not above attacking an opponent from behind. He reaches out, grabbing the knight by a strap across the back of his armour and wrenching him back, and into his neck he plunges his straight, simple blade. Again and again he stabs Innes, splattering them both with blood and ensuring the paladin’s demise with no further struggle.
You look into the man’s eyes as he realizes he has lost, failed, and died. It gives you no small satisfaction, but as a ‘kindness’, you send his gryphon to join him.
You take a deep, shuddering breath and climb down from the gryphon’s back, while Roth cleans his blade. Only the two of you remain alive… Well, and Brezzog, you hope.
“We should go,” Roth whispers as you approach, in the True Speech. “This was no quiet battle. We will have been heard, likely seen, by humans.”
“It is dark,” you reply.
“It was lit by flame, and a gryphon’s cry is not something that can be mistaken,” Roth says.
You sigh. You’d been hoping for a more thorough examination of the bodies, their equipment.
“We should at least take their belongings,” you say. “Their equipment seems… useful.”
You reach for one such piece of equipment—the dropped shield, which could defend even against dragonfire… And you flinch back, your hand singing and faintly smoking, skin blistered and nails split.
‘Yyyyowch!’ Irinnile hisses. ‘Blessed arms, babe. No-go for a demon ho.’
You frown. “Dragonblooded One, i… Will check upon the hellhound. Perhaps, as a blacksmith, you can better inspect the quipment?”
If Roth registers the real reason for your change in duties, he makes no comment, simply complying while haughtily telling you: “Waste no time, Infiltrator. I cannot fight off two such opponents at once, much as I am loathe to admit it.”
The old Reptilian IS moving stiffly, slowly, as if overexerted. The scant energy you retrieved from the gryphon’s demise is scarcely enough to mend your burned hand, and Brezzog… Well, the hellhound has seen better days, though you and Irinnile are able to confirm that his crumpled shell contains the spark of demonic ‘life’, such as it is. You scoop him up, cradling him in one arm.
