Editing Tale of the Fallen Crusader (section)

===Part Three===

The silhouette of a cloaked man strode through town, whistling a merry tune.  No hood covered his head, allowing all to see his face, not that it mattered.  He knocked politely on the door to the Bread & Bed that lay in the city of Blackley.  Repairs were going well after the dragon's attack, and the Bread & Bed was making a killing housing all the people that lost their homes.  The innkeeper opened the door curiously, who knocked on the door instead of walking right in?

"Hello, can I help you?"

"sir,  I just wanted to know if you'd seen this man?  His name is Abel, I've been looking for him for some time."  He showed a familiar wanted poster to the innkeeper.

"Maybe I 'ave.  Who's askin'?"

"My name is Isley, I'm going to kill that man."  The innkeeper's face paled as he recognized the man he knew as Clarke on the poster, hearing the name Isley striking fear into him.

"I-Isley, th-the Blackguard?  N-no.  Never seen him."

"Hm, shame."  From a smoking purple spark in his hand came his weapon of choice, a barbed bastard sword.  The innkeeper didn't even have time to gasp before his head hit the floor, his body propelled through the bar into the back wall by a touch of another spark.  Quietly, Isley stepped inside the tavern, shutting the door behind him. "I certainly hope the rest of you have something more to say for me."  He said to the remaining patrons in the tavern.

***

'Shit,' thought Abel, 'they found me AGAIN.  This ragtag group of idiots have found me, a master of making myself scarce; a whole year I was invisible and these people have found me TWICE in a few weeks!'  He sighed as Greyson drew some fancy new arming sword, the rest of his party holding similarly ornate and new weapons:  A tremendous hammer in the big guy's hands, a new crossbow with bolts made of wind in the redhead's, a serpent designed dagger wielded by the rogue, and a majestic stave wielded by that bitchy cleric.

"You think a few new toys can help you?"  He asked, wearing a new black duster and a pilgrim's hat.  Good travel wear, and as always, made him feel badass.  Villainous, even.

"We didn't need them the first time.  And with the sword Croar, I'll take your head this time..."  Greyson said, pointing his sword at Abel in an amateurish show of his prowess.

"And, by the way, I only know YOUR name, Greyson.  Who the fuck are these people?  Your little cronies?  Do they even have names?"

"We have names!"  Spouted the ranger.

"Sure you do, redhead."

"It's Julianne!"

"Excellent, that's one down, who are the rest of you?"

"We won't dignify you with the knowledge," said the cleric, as she began gathering golden light at the head of her ornate staff.  Abel sighed as they rushed him again, Greyson at the head, wielding Croar haphazardly in showy motions.  'Were these people taking turns or something?'  He thought.  'Time to show them my new trick.'

With a flourish of his fingers and a smoking purple spark, a bastard sword solidified of smoke.  "Come on, don't be that way."  He caught Greyson's attack, holding his sword with both hands under the strength and speed of his strike.  'Okay, maybe they're a bit stronger.'  

Red electricity sparked where the two blades met, Greyson smiling as he exerted more strength onto Abel, bending his stance.  "Guess what?"  Abel said, bringing a knee into Greyson's groin, draining his smile from his face to say the least.  He threw off the swordsman, who curled on the ground.  Just in time it turns out.

The enormous hammer smashed downwards, barely dodged by a sidestep on Abel's part.  The hammer cracked and powdered the solid ground from its intense impact.  Abel put his foot on the hammer while it stuck in the ground, trapping it.  "And you are?"

"Gerard.  Greyson's brother."

"Was that so hard?"

"No.  And neither was this."  He rose the hammer upwards, throwing Abel off with its strength.  Abel rolled to the side as the hammer came down again, right towards him.  A purple spark impacting the fighter knocked him back, his hammer staying where it fell dug into the earth.  Abel reached for his dropped sword, only to find it had evaporated when it left his grip.  "Aw, shit."

A volley of bolts flew from Julianne's crossbow, the wind spikes punching holes in the dirt, but missing Abel.  "Why are you a ranger?  You can't even hit anything!"  Her freckled face flushed red at Abel's words, continuing her volley of missile misses.  Abel just stood up, unhindered by any of her attacks, until one hit him in the shoulder, punching a bloody hole in his longcoat.  "Ow!"

That wasn't all he had to worry about, as he felt a sting of pain in his opposite shoulder, the rogue having dug his dagger into him.  Abel turned on his heel, using his less injured arm to grab the man's throat, having left the dagger in his back, the rogue was defenseless.  "Name?" 

"R-Reynard-"  He sputtered through Abel's vice-like grip.

"Good to know."  He spun around again, catching several bolts fired by the ranger with the squirming rogue's body, causing him to wince with pain at every needle sized puncture.  'That priestess has been chanting an awfully long time,'  he thought.  With another spark the rogue was flung back toward the ranger, knocking them both down in a heap.  A golden bolt of energy struck Abel square in the chest, knocking him several feet through the air.  He coughed and sputtered as the air was knocked from his lungs.

"How do you like my new trick?  Break out of that, Fallen."  She readied another bolt, evidently having readied more than one attack.  Abel growled as he saw his duster was mostly burned away, his hat now nowhere to be found.

"Break out of this, bitch."  He pointed his hand to her, and with a glow beneath his sleeve, four serpents launched themselves, each one wrapping around the girl, tying her as the energy rapidly dissipated from her staff.  "Have a name, girly-girl?  Or will you still not 'dignify me with the knowledge?'"

'Damn, I make one awesome villain. This is actually kind of fun!'  Abel thought, cupping the Cleric's chin in one hand, his eyes glowing with purple energy.  It didn't really do anything, but he certainly thought it made her more convinced to tell him.

"...Audrey.  Cleric of Crom."  Abel smiled at her, snapping his fingers and turning the snakes that bound her to smoke.

"Okay, I'll see you guys later, I have stuff to do."  He hid from them the fact that the fight exhausted him.  He felt like walking away was his best chance of escape, considering he had only BARELY defeated them.  It hardly seemed like being a good bad guy if they knew a little perseverance could kill him.

***

'Apparently, I'm no longer the biggest fish in the sea for rowdy adventurers.'  Abel thought, staring down the black spire of iron surrounded by beasts that jutted from the earth as if it had hidden below for millennia.  Well, it was a drawing of it at least.  The poster read that some evil wizard had summoned the tower and was a blight on the lands.  'Damn, I thought a fallen paladin was a generic villain.'

He eyed the reward almost sullenly, the king was offering THREE HUNDRED GOLD for taking care of this wizard.  'That's just not fair.  He's barely been a problem, all he's done is burned down part of a forest, I made an enemy of one of the most prominent religions of this damned land, and I'm only worth a third of him!'

Valland was a city not unlike Alric, they could have been carbon copies practically.  Same nice people, same odd jobs bulletin board, same goddamn Bread & Bed, though to be fair, they have a location in most places nowadays.  It's good to see a quality business go well, but you'd never see another such viral expanse of an inn.

Regardless, he shacked up there, conjuring some new clothes for the trip to that black spire tomorrow.  If he could defeat a whole group of adventurers by himself, he thought he could easily handle one rogue wizard.

***

He was wrong.  He couldn't even make it into the damned place!  He tried and tried, but the mobs of gnolls, kobolds and dire beasts kept him from entrance.  He actually had to retreat to survive!  He stayed in the forest to recuperate, focusing to weave his wounds closed with his magic, though it was difficult when he was already this tired.  

He spied something in the morning, having fallen asleep in his self treatment, a movement towards the spire.  He focused, attempting to make his vision more keen with magic.  It didn't work, but he did recognize the voice screaming a battle cry as the group rushed towards the spire.  Greyson.

He watched almost bored, as they were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the enemies, just like he was.  He snickered as they retreated, headed straight for where he lie in wait in the forest.  

Audrey began healing the most serious wounds, as Abel stepped out of the forest's shadow.  "Got your asses kicked, huh?"  They all reached for their weapons in panic.  "Relax, I'm not here to fight you.  I wanted to make a deal."  Greyson held his sword ready, as his last wounds closed on his scratched face.

"What sort of deal?"

"Well, I'm strong, but strength of numbers are a problem.  I can help you get through that army out there, and take care of that damned wizard."

"And what do you want?"  Greyson's sword never came out of a battle stance.

"I just want some of that reward.  It appears I've spoiled myself, and can't stand camping anymore.  I just need some money for a few nights in the local Bread & Bed.  You get the glory, I just want some pay."  Despite Audrey's protests, Greyson shook Abel's hand.

"You were a paladin once.  Let us hope keeping to your word is something you still value."

***

The silhouette of a cloaked man strode through Valland, whistling a merry tune.  No hood covered his head, allowing all to see his face, not that it mattered.  He knocked politely on the door to the Bread & Bed, smiling wide as the door opened.  The innkeeper opened the door curiously, who knocked on the door instead of walking right in?

"Can I help you?"

"Sir,  I just wanted to know if you'd seen this man?  His name is Abel, I've been looking for him for some time."  He held up Abel's wanted poster.

"Yeah, he's been 'ere.  Don't know where he went though."

"Hm, shame."  From a smoking purple burst of sparks came his weapon of choice... an arbalest. The cloaked man points the missile weapon to the innkeeper's chest,"You and I are going to have a talk in private, now MOVE!"