Assorted short things

The Demise of Desmor Blest

It was a strange and unfortunate set of events that led to Desmor Blest's return from the grave.

It all began a week prior to his execution and secret revival, on a mostly normal day free of ominous omens like ravens and dark clouds. Des was at the mercenary camp's training grounds, beating the shit out of three people at once, when the first ominous omen showed up.

It was a Carver, one of those masked sorcerers who worked for the Guild and, as it turned out, Desmor's newest client. The job was simple, or as simple as it could be when given by an organisation of elite sorcerers who killed people by mutilating carvings. One of their members had been kidnapped by people who could neutralise their magic. Desmor's job was to retrieve the Carver alive. Easy, for the city's most skilled warrior. Easier for Des.

So it was with minimal caution and a light heart that Des infiltrated  the kidnappers' hideout days later. This would be his last job, he marveled as he stabbed an opponent in the throat. When this was done, his contract as a mercenary was over. He'd go home to Mari and his two kids and get them far away from this bloody city.

It was with these hopeful thoughts that Des fired a crossbow bolt at the last man, who was trying and failing to use the kidnapped Carver to shield himself. It was with utter shock that he watched a hand whip out from the shadows to fire a blast of magic at the bolt, deflecting it straight into the forehead of the hostage Carver.

The only thing Des saw of the murderer in the shadows was his hand. A hand with the three-pentacle tattoo of the Guild.

The Carver who had killed one of his kind stepped out of the shadows, indeed wearing the mask and robes of the Guild. He lifted a finger in Desmor's direction and spoke,

"You have killed one of the brethren of the Guild. The penalty is death."

Like any reasonable man who was being framed for a murder, Des cracked his crossbow into the Carver's head, knocked him out and ran.

There was, as far as he knew, only one person in the city who could get him to his family before a hoard of angry Carvers stoned him to death. This was why he found himself at the door of the renowned and crooked Lady Bird, the only non-Carver witch alive. She happened to be an old acquaintance.

In her parlour, he told her everything and she listened, stroking the red falcon on her arm. When he was done, she smiled.

"Poor Desmor Blest, " she crooned at her bird, "A pawn in the war within the Guild. A speck of dust blown to the ground by the winds of rival Carver factions."

"Eh?"

"For their noble war, you must die." she looked at him sadly, "I can't help that, but I can give you a gift."

"Say what now?"

She removed a small stone pin from her blouse and gave it to him.

"A gift of fair judgement for one unfairly condemned." she smiled at him, "In return, you shall give me your allegiance, if you return."

"Return?"

Lady Bird did not reply, which was just as well. Seven Carvers stormed into her parlour and seized Desmor with hands reinforced with sorcery. As he struggled, an eighth masked Carver walked in. He held up a small, carved wooden man.

Des yelled, "No. Please, my family- Lady Bird, how could you-"

The Lady did not blink. A crack filled the air as the Carver snapped his carving in two and Desmor Blest dropped to the ground, dead.

Des opened eyes he didn't remember closing. Darkness surrounded him.

"The man carries a plea for fair judgement." a disembodied voice said. "Judgment shall be passed."

There was a timeless silence. The only thing Des was aware of was the stone pin clutched in his unseen hand. He wondered how Mari and the kids would take the news of his death. The voice spoke again.

"The verdict is passed. The unfairly condemned shall return to life."

Des distantly registered that he could see his family again after all.

"Payment for the plea shall be taken."

What payment? Before he could ask, he opened his eyes again and found himself in the parlour of a house.

"Hello," said a woman's voice. She stood to his side, a red falcon on her arm.

"I see my gift worked. I wonder what the payment was...In any case, you can see your family now. The Guild thinks you're dead-"

"Huh? Lady, who are you?" Des asked, confused, "Who am I? You said I have a family?"

Lady Bird stared at him for three long seconds. She muttered under her breath, "Memories, I guess."

Then she smiled.

"You're my employee, and no, you don't have a family."