Athos

A Bad Day for Phinian
December 19, 1999
Phinian Findlegrump looked out over the rolling hills and rocks that comprised his home. He glanced to his right and noticed the windmills gently turning the lazy afternoon breeze. A dull low growl in his stomach informed him it was almost time for his shift to end, and for him to head back to Ak'anon. Mrs. Findlegrump was sure to have his favorite mushroom stew ready, a thought that was meet with another growl from his empty stomach. The little one was sure to be home for the holidays. "Well, he ain't so little anymore", thought Phinian. His son had weathered almost forty seasons now, and in a few more years would be ready to enter Watchman Training, following in his fathers footsteps to guard this wonderful city. His city.

He let a small sigh of satisfaction escape his lips when these thoughts bounced around his mind. He turned to give the area one more look, then started to head back to the city gates. A sudden flash of spell fire caught his eye off to his right. 'Intruders, Alert, Defend the City' his mind cried. He clutched the grip on this sword a little tighter, and turned to his right, preparing to shout the alarm that would bring the other watchmen in the area to his aide.

At least, he tried to turn. His feet, nay, his whole body was locked. His muscles refused to move, nothing would respond. Yet time moved on. He could see out of the corner of his eye a dark figure emerge from cloud of haze he may or may not have seen before. 'Sorcery!', his mind thought.

"Actually", the little gnome in the black robes said, "it is more like Alteration, but enough of that, most likely too far beyond the likes of you to understand."

'Treachery! Who was this gnome that would dare cast upon a Watchman!', thought Phinian.

"Oh, hardly a gnome dear Watchman, your pardon for a moment", said the little gnome. One small gesture and the gnome was no more. Standing in its place was a Dark Elf, similarly clad, clutching a eerily glowing wand. "Athos is the name dear Watchman, and you have the distinct privilege of serving my needs".

'Never vile elf', thought Phinian. 'I will never serve the likes of you, nor your kin, I would rather die first'.

"Well Phinian, that you will do. All in good time. But first, let me remove that nasty temper of yours", said Athos.

Phinian watched in horror as the Dark Elf gathered more spell fire, it coalesced in between his hands, and finally leapt out towards him, engulfing him with colors and sounds he and never experienced before. Slowly, his anger, his frustration, his memories, all slipped away. He was peaceful. He felt right in listening to this elf. He felt he owed this elf his existence. It was necessary that he serve this elf, and his needs.

"Very good Phinian", said Athos. "We may now proceed. Your fellow watchman up ahead, Dreeb I think his name is, go... go kill him. He has wronged me, and needs to die". With a wave of his hand, Phinian's muscles returned to him. He gripped his sword tighter, and spotting Dreeb, let forth a battle cry like no other he had ever uttered in his life, and sprang forth to attack Dreeb.

What transpired Phinian knew not. His inner mind was secure, safe, in a different, happier place. His outer mind witnessed the horror that was the battle. His outer mind screamed in shock as his sword cut through his long time friend Dreeb. His conscious thoughts were only of blood, lust, and death. His sub-conscious thoughts were only of pain, sorrow, and loss. He may have remembered the being bathed in spell fire as the dark elf sat back from a distance, casting spell after spell upon Dreeb. He may have remembered Dreeb's first weak attempt at blocking Phinian's sword blow, and the garbled, questioning, astonished words that struggled from Dreeb's mouth as Phinian thrust again and again at him. He may have remembered the killing blow he inflicted upon Dreeb, pulling his sword from the slain corpse, and fixating on the blood that flowed slowly from the haft of the weapon back down along the blade. All of these images and sounds he might have remembered, but most where locked in a cloudy haze that was his mind. Only one event clearly stood out in his mind...

"You have done well my Phinian. I will end your suffering now, and I promise to make it painless. Remember these words, your family loves you, your city loves you, you have served your race well. Be proud my little warrior...", said Athos as he began to cast his final spell.

...Phinian's mind cleared long enough to see a Dark Elf standing in front of him, a smile on his face, words of power dripping from his mouth and forming into an almost tangible cloud of mist. The last words he heard were coming from the Dark Elf's mouth... "I was never hear...", and Phinian blacked out.

He woke up to see faces of his fellow Watchmen standing around him.

"Git up you traitor", spat Watchman Halv. "Yer a disgrace to the Watchmen, and to all our kind. What was yer price Phin? How much did they pay you to slay yer own kin?"

Phinian, confused, looked around at the angry faces of his friends. He reached out to grab a hold of Prynn, a long time friend, and noticed the dried blood on his hands.

"What?", Phinian muttered.

"Tokens of yer handy work Phin", growled Watchman Prynn. "I hope you have made peace with Brell, for you'll be visitin him up close and personal like before morning shine tomorrow".

Still confused, Phinian looked frantically around to see some sign of what was going on. His eyes met and locked on a the ground five feet in front of him. There he saw Watchman Dreeb's bloody corpse, with his sword lying next to it.