Day Forty-Three (5 of 5)

I had an action ready for just this kind of possibility.

I cast Sanctuary on our Dwarf Cleric prisoner, when I saw Spiritz come at him with the rusty axe.  The spell prevented our sorcerer from following through on taking aggressive action against the Cleric.  Spiritz said he only intended to hack off the Dwarf Cleric’s beard with the axe – I suppose, in some bizarre attempt at humiliating the Cleric into talking to us.  If not an act of torture it was at least conduct unbecoming a member of a group of supposedly Good adventurers.  I’m glad I stopped it.  Even if the Cleric was viciously evil.  Some lines we should not cross.

Alex simply laughed at my action.  Not for its futility, but for what it represented as my intent.  Spiritz tossed aside the axe.  After explaining his intention, he said nothing else.

Then the group got into discussion of what to do.  Their patience had run thin for this interrogation.  The Cleric was protected by my spell for only half a minute.  It was only meant as protection to stall any rash actions – like what Spiritz tried.  Or what I suspected Isis might have done to the helpless prisoner had the fighter-mage been involved.

Speaking for the lizardfolk and, by proxy Yissic, Dax had no opinion on what to do.  Xel’Xaran wouldn’t offer a suggestion or vote, nor would Alex.  Spiritz seemed too embarrassed by his rash act to weigh in.

I did my best to offer a middle ground for an outcome.  The Cleric was evil, yes, but I argued that we had been sent out here to deal with hobgoblins, and we had done that.  We had made a mistake by pursuing and attacking these Dwarves, and whether they were evil or not, I felt our best course of action was to leave them and be on our way.  We could leave the Cleric tied up, and keep his holy symbol so he could not cast spells against us.  Then awaken one of his associates when we left, to untie the Cleric, rouse their other survivor, and go where they would.

Unfortunately my wisdom is no match for blood-lust.  BOB openly desired to free the Cleric so that the Dwarf and BOB might have some fancy one-on-one martial combat.  Presumably to the Dwarf’s death at BOB’s hand.  Pulp wanted to kill the Dwarf where he lay, bound and helpless.  Gord was eager to kill the Cleric and be rid of him.

Until then Alex had been a rational actor.  But when he stepped up and attempted and failed to coup-de-grace the Cleric with a spear, I had to turn and walk away.  I heard but did not directly witness the savage frenzy that erupted behind my back, as all of my execution-hungry associates dove in with knives and clubs.

The Dwarf cleric was probably dead by the time I reached sentinel Xel’Xaran.  Our Elf scout looked behind us to see what was happening.  Then he returned his gaze to the grasses and the sky, saying nothing.

After that, there was a lot left unspoken.  Alex and I woke the unconscious Dwarves with healing spells.  Dax hissed intimidating words at the captives.  The stricken Dwarves fled for the mountains.

Our associates looted the bodies of the dead.  Pulp seemed especially interested in the Cleric’s metal armor.  It was the first interest he’d shown in something today, besides the pursuit.

Alex and I walked ahead of the group, in the direction that would lead us back to Yissic’s village.  We didn’t talk.

I’m not happy to have been a part of what happened today.  No one has addressed it.  I don’t think we have because I don’t think anyone is bothered by it.  Not the way I am.

We are heading back to Yissic’s village now.  With no tracking to do, we can make better time on our return journey than on our outbound hunt.

Journal of Dr. Marcus Grant
Healing Cleric of Pelor, Order of St-Jude Academy (Silabrek)
43rd Day, grasslands, territory of Ælim.

 

 

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About d20horizons

D&D player.
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