The Arctic Journey ( A DnD Story)

The Black Robed Men

Arsonist and I waited for our allies to wake. My eyes grew heavy as I watched the two, and I fell into a quick sleep. I blinked awake to the absence of Arsonist. I turned my head to where the battle had taken place. Arsonist was burying Oric, along with the wolves that attack us in the night. Leaving the graves unmarked, Arsonist walked back and sat next to my side.

"We'll need to move fast when they wake up," Arsonist stated. I looked up in the sky to see what time it was. Considering our position, it looked to be about noon. I must've slept longer than I thought.

I heard Z'all stirring. He seemed grumpier than usual.

"What happ--Agh!" Z'all grunted loudly. He held his arm in pain. Looking confused, Z'all turned to me. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" I asked.

"No."

I looked over to Oric's grave, and turned back to Z'all and somberly said, "Oric was an assassin. He tried to kill us."

Z'all responded rather quickly, "Hmm...looks like he almost got away with it too. But I guessed he bit off more than he could chew, ha!" Z'all had a snide in his speech. This made me angry knowing how much punishment Frank took for him and how oblivious Z'all was to it.

We heard Frank finally waking up. He was struggling to stand, so I rushed over to him and put his arm over my shoulder.

"Woah, big guy," I urged, "Take it easy."

Frank accepted my help. I lead him near the fire which Arsonist restarted using his magic. I handed him a fish which I cooked for him to eat. Although I was nervous sitting next to fire, next to Frank I felt oddly at peace. Though he had been through hell that night, he had a certain calm about him that had an affect on us all.

After he ate his fish, we decided to head out and try to make up for lost time. Frank gained the strength to support himself and kept up well. In fact it seemed I was slowed down by my wounds more than he was by his. We traveled down the path, until Z'all who was leading the party stopped in his tracks. The rest of us stopped, confused on Z'all's reasons for stopping.

"You can come out now," Z'all said calmly.

From both sides, four figures  emerged from the tree line. They wore pitch black robes with hoods, and their faces were marked with several religious signs, none I could read in detail.

They glared at us with those evil yellow eyes. No words were exchanged. They all attacked us at once. Their skill with a blade was less than desirable and we fought them off easily enough. I gave mine a good kick to the jaw, knocking him down to the ground. Arsonist sliced up his foe with great skill. Z'all had a more difficult time, but Arsonist aided him and slew his enemy. Frank cleaved through his enemy's chest, soaking the snow in crimson. In pain, my foe groaned on the ground. I grabbed the robes of the dead men and used them to tie the man up. I attempted to carry him on my shoulder, but my injury made the pain unbearable. Arsonist volunteered to carry the man, to which no one had any complaints.

We continued on our journey along with our new "friend." I noticed less animals around than what we've been seeing. We found a nice spot under a lone tree to rest for the night. We were close to the river so I jumped in and fished while my companions set up camp. After I caught six fish and my companions finished setting up camp, our captive woke up.

"Glad you could join us for dinner," I said slyly. Arsonist was cooking the fish I had caught. Our prisoner looked disoriented, but slowly realized he had been caught.
His eyes were filled with hatred and resentment, but at that point I was determined to get answers out of him. My allies and I ate, and we agreed one of the extra fish should go to Frank. After we had finished feasting, I turned to the prisoner. His eyes retained that same evil glare, but his stomach let out a low growl.