Role

Chapter 3

The young drow sobbed as she stumbled through the woods, naked except for a blood-soaked blanket wrapped hastily about her. Branches and thorns scraped and scratched as she fled for her life. From behind her came the baying of hounds.

Then came a shouted out prayer to the false idol Ignolmeer, immediately followed by a bright flash of light and a thunderous tumult. She heard her rescuer scream behind her as a bolt of 'holy' fire struck that shadowy avenger in the back.

The older woman stumbled, agony writ large on her face, but somehow she managed to regain her balance - to keep running. They ran and kept running, all through the night. Only when it started to rain heavily did the hounds finally start to lag.

Winded, the two drows stumbled and staggered through a shadowy grove. They were on their last legs, but it seemed as though they had also finally lost their pursuer. At last they happened upon the ruins of an old shrine to a false idol of Light.

"Merciful Avderlain...", the elder of the two mumbled, her eyes widening as she recognised a graven image upon one collapsed pillar. "We should be safe here." Together the two huddled, beneath a great tree whose roots had overtaken the ruins.

Days passed, and the girl's wounds began to heal and scab over. The woman who had sprung her free though? Her wound was ugly and black, a great crater across her back from which flowed pustulent tendrils. Such was the bite of a paladin's wrath.

On the morning of the sixth day, a daughter of Teth Azeleth breathed her last. As the girl laboured to bury her remains, the north wind brought the baying of hounds and hard men's shouts. "My wrath tracks the wicked!", screamed one man.

The girl trembled as she hastily rolled her rescuer's stiff body into a shallow grave. But not before prying a dagger from the woman's cold dead hand. "Yes, you have taught us wickedness...", she whispered in the direction of their pursuers.