Merrell
and the BroachAs Merrell returned, Cleo stood in the middle of the room and held her hands out to the side. "Remember this dress, my one?" she said with a smile.
Merrell entered the room wearing a pair of breeches and his clean robe draped over his shoulders. While bathing Merrell had taken time to trim his beard and mustache and had actually combed his hair.
When the mage saw Cleo posing for him in a dress a smile creased his neatly shaved face. "Absolutely stunning." he blurted out before he'd had time to think of something more suave to say.
"The gods must favor me, for I can think of no such other reason to have won the favor of such a fair maiden." he finally added after taking in the show for a while.
Then a more serious look came to his face. "My love I want you to see something." he said grasping the edges of his robe with his hands.
Opening his robes he exposed his naked chest to her. There over his heart embedded in his flesh was the broach the group had taken from Torus's body.
"It is a broach of regeneration, that is only activated when worn as I have it now. I was afraid to tell the others about my findings because of what happened when we were in KD and Torus had control of my mind."
"Blondung still doesn't trust me. And I can't say I blame him after what I did to him while under that abominations command." he paused and sighed.
"I don't plan to tell the others about my findings until I am sure I have researched it thoroughly enough to be sure it's safe. I wanted you to know, because I need you to watch over me while I do another experiment with it. "
"You see I put it on, but I don't know if I can get the damn thing back off. I wanted you to be here when I tried in case something bad happened. Will you help me?"
Cleo moves over to the mage with a look of real concern and worry over her face. "You didn't know if it was safe, yet you used it? That's folly!" Cleo scolds him, clearly out of love.
Worry still etching into her features, Cleo looks at him, "Well, try whatever it is you have in mind. I'm here. I'll help you." she says, obviously gravely concerned about him.
Merrell smiled weakly, "I didn't do it for fun." he said in reply. "Actually it hurt quite a bit, and for someone who doesn't like pain all that much it took alot to do."
"We had taken a beating down there and I was in pretty bad shape. Many in the party were,... you were." He said looking down at his feet.
"I had to chance it. I didn't want our priests gifts wasted on me, if I could fix my wounds myself." He smiled weakly again. "As my luck goes, the damn thing only works if you were wearing it when you actually took the damage. Pinning it to myself like I did only caused more damage."
The mage looked at thebarbarian woman hoping she understood. "The pain didn't bother me so much though. I had done it to save my friends, and my beloved."
"It was later that I became concerned." he said, no trace os a smile left on his face.
"Cleo this thing was made by priests who worshiped .....that demon." he said not wanting to draw attention to himself by mentioning his name aloud. The barabrian girl could see the fear in his eyes.
Cleo's eyes go wide for a moment, and the woman fights the urge to take a step backward.
He moved his hands up and placed them both firmly on the broach. "Know that I love you." he said softly, as he attempted to pull the thing free of his chest.
Seeing what he was about to do, Cleo puts her hands on the man's hips, reayd to hold him should he fall. Cleo levels her gaze at his eyes, and replies, "And I, you."
Merrell starts to gently pull at the broach, wincing as his skin pulls with it. It quickly becomes clear that the broach will not come off without pulling some of Merrell's flesh with it.
Cleo winces and nearly looks away, but remains resolute. "Do you want me to do it?" she offers.
Bracing himself, Merrell grits his teeth and jerks the broach violently away from his flesh. A flash of intense pain goes through his chest as the broach rips free, pulling a not insignificant lump of flesh with it (OOC: ouch! 6hp damage) and hurting a hell of a lot more than he thought it possibly could have. Cleo, standing close by, flinches as spots of blood splatter her face.
Look down at his hand, Merrell can see the broach and the lump of flesh attached to it. He can't believe just how bad that was! A trickle of blood runs down his chest and over his stomach.
"OH, my Gods!" Cleo exclaims as she sees the damage Merrell just inflicted on himself (ooc - does loosing 1/3rd of your hit points mean that you loose 1/3rd of your body mass? lol, just kidding. Gotta love Hit Points...). "Sit, sit down!" she adds, steadying him against the sudden pain. Grabbing a blanket, Cleo presses it against his chest to try to stop the blood flow.
Merrell sat as ordered. He tried to call out to Cleo to stop but she had moved out the door too quickly for him to catch his breath. "Cleo, I'll be fine, just let me rest a moment." he called out too softly for the excited barbarian to hear.
Standing, Cleo blurts out, "Stay put, I'll be right back with help."
While she ran down the stairs Merrell pressed the cloth she had given him into the wound trying to stop the bleeding. Looking at the flesh attached to the broach again he had an idea.
Merrell took the freshly removed chunk of meat (technically still attached to his own flesh) and removing the towel from the still bleeding wound, he matched the fleshy meat on the broach to the wound and pressed the two together.
Pressing the lump of flesh back against his flesh did nothing more than make him wince further and squelch a bit. Feeling a little faint, he holds it there, using the towel to mop up the dribble of blood down his chest. The flow seems to be slowing.
The make-shift bandage seems to stops the bleeding, though Merrell does wonder
momentarily how he will explain to the innkeeper the reason for the
ripped sheets.
***
WIth that, Cleo runs down the stairs, slowing to a fast walk as she reaches the common room. Walking up to the group's table(s), Cleo says in a hushed but urgent voice, "Merrell's been hurt. He needs the attention of a healer! Will someone come with me?"
<Knowing that the two were sharing a room Lucretia looks at Cleo then to Serena.> "By the Gods this ought to be good...I've got to see this." <He stifiles a chuckle as he rises to see what is going on> "Only Merrell could hurt himself in the sack."
Serena rolls her eyes and gives Luc a stern look, as she hisses, "Oh, Luc, you know Merrell wants to emulate your bold and forward demeanor. What sort of (ahem) acrobatics did you talk him into now?"
Hands on her hips, Cleo levels a glare at the muscle-headed warrior. "NOT funny. I'm being serious!", she says.
"O" <A look of concern comes across his face and he sits.>
Serena shrugs and smirks. She says, "Better get Herod to take a look." She nudges Luc in the ribs as she takes another gulp of ale. "He knows all about battlefield injuries."
<Luc smiles at Serena's remarks but is a bit worried about his spell casting friend, shrugging off the beers that were starting to cloud his mind he asks, seriously.> "What happened?"
Cleo glances obviously around the room so that Luc could tell that she wasn't comfortable talking about it in the common room. "Not here." she whispered.
<Merrell aka Mike wrote>:
> When he had finished he put his robes back on
> and made his way down to the common room of the
> inn and sat across from Luc and Serena. He smiled
> at Cleo as he sat.
***
<Merrell aka Mike wrote>:
> When he had finished he put his robes back on
> and made his way down to the common room of the
> inn and sat across from Luc and Serena. He smiled
> at Cleo as he sat.
Meanwhile downstairs, Cleo was trying to attract the attention of any of the healers. Herod, squashed into a corner seemed to look a little pale and feverish himself, and didn't seem to notice when Cleo was asking for help. When asked later, he said he thought he might have come down with the flu for a moment. :-) Milo on the other hand was day dreaming, thinking hard of the visions of the Ceely from up in his room. As Merrell appears, Larz glances around. "Ack, what yer on about lass! There he is, and he seems OK to me!"
<Merrell aka Mike wrote>:
> "I'm fine my dear, let us just sit down and watch
> Yv's performance."
Larz grunts, not looking up from his ale. "See, he's fine!"
***
Milo regretfully asked Ceely to allow him to disturb her, and then moved around to whisper in Merrel's ear, "If I could take a piece of your time Merrell, I have a couple of things I need to discuss with you away from Cleo.", offering either an open alcove if there is one, or the door outside.
[Merrell]
The half-elf mage nodded in agreement, and followed the priest of Ilmater off to a more quite part of the common room to talk. By the look stern look on the healers face Merrell he judged him to be concerned about his...injury.
Merrell being a self-proclaimed scholar, and an intellectual at heart felt rather embarrassed about talking about his self-inflicted wound, even though is still hurt like hades. In his mind the skinny mage figured he got what he deserved for being so stupid. After all it could have been much worse.
Merrell eyed Milo briefly, then stated softly, "Did she tell you what happened?" Merrell hoped that Cleo had been discreet. He knew women, even barbarian women, had a way of over-reacting when something bad has happened to someone they care about.
A smirk creased his face. Cleo actually did care about him. What she saw in him he'd never know, nor did he really care. The fact that she did care for him was enough. Besides the workings of the female mind were far too complex for even his well trained mind to comprehend.
Merrell didn't wait for Milo to answer. He knew from the look on the humans face that his concern was for his well-being.
Without saying anything else Merrell opened his robes enough for Milo to see the blood stained, make-shift bandage he had wrapped around his chest.
"Self-inflicted, I'm afraid." he said looking around hoping no one else was watching what was going on. "But I'd rather not talk about it right now, if you don't mind. I'll live, and I'll be all the wiser for it." The mage hoped that Milo would leave it at that, but he would explain further if he was pressed.
------------------------------
Later when it came time to retire, Merrell accompanied Cleo to their room. When the door was closed Merrell sighed.
"I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier." he said attempting to sound if what had happened was no big deal. "And thank you." he added.
Seeing the look of confusion on her face he explained, "Thank you for caring."
------------------------------
<Blondung aka the DM wrote>:
> "but I'd also like to have a look at that broach we got
from Torus,"
> he continues, turning to look squarely at the half-elf mage.
"So what
> exactly did *you* find out with your examinations then Merrell?"
Merrell looked up from his reading when he heard his name. When Blondung asked his question Merrell shot Cleo a sideways glance then looked briefly at Milo before grinning sheepishly.
"It is a broach of regeneration, but it must be worn properly before it will have an effect. Also it only regenerates damage that was taken while the broach was being worn."
Blondung scowls as he hears Merrell's words. "Very useful" he says coldly.
Merrell stood up and opened his robes enough for the group to see the broach embedded in the flesh of his chest above his heart. Merrell paused for a moment awaiting the reprimand he knew was coming.
At that moment, a serving wench delivering a second helping of breakfast to Dorn, gasps, catching a glimpse of the broach embedded in Merrell's chest. Several other patrons in the inn glance around curiously.
"I know it was a stupid thing to do, but I did what I thought was best for the group. I had a hunch what it was, and what it did, and I experimented with it for several days before I concluded that this was the only way it could be activated." he said putting his hand over the broach.
"So you uncovered ALL it's properties with your experimentation did you Merrell?" asks Blondung sarcastically.
"We were hurt badly and had thought if I could use the broach, we could conserve the healing magic for the you guys that really needed it." Merrell looked toward Cleo, "I know I am weaker that most of you. And I saw many healing spells waisted on me when others could have used them more. I wasn't going to be the reason someone else died, if I had a viable alternative."
Larz shook his head again. "But if you stayed away from danger..." he started.
"Now that looks like it is embedded in your chest...nasty." "Might be better if someone who was more in the thick of things wore that...but it looks kind of stuck so I guess you'll have to be keeping that" said Lucretia.
"Clangeddin's Teeth!" exclaims Larz. "That doesn't look healthy!"
Merrell shook his, "Oh yes, it'll come out." Merrell shot another glance at Milo. "He healed me the last time I pulled it out. I asked he and Cleo not to say anything."
"The last time I pulled it free it took a 2 inch chunck of flesh from my chest." The skinny mage looked at Luc. "How else do you think I survived that attack from the giant?"
Larz shakes his head disbelievingly. "Loosing yer gel must have addled yer brain! The risk ye've taken in playin' with that thing!"
Serena scowls. "I don't think so! As our most powerful spell- caster now that Blondung is leaving, Merrell should definitely be keeping himself out of the fray from now on."
Blondung inclines his head slightly to Serena in recognition of the complement she just paid him, and Larz nods as Serena echoes his own sentiment about Merrell's position in battles.
"Wearing this magic brooch, Merrell will only feel more encouraged to throw himself into the front lines again! I agree with Lucretia -- the brooch should go to one of the fighters -- someone who will be constantly getting wounded and who would really get the most benefit from it." She smiles at Merrell, "For the *good of the party,* don't you think?" she continues.
Blondung absently smoothes out a wrinkle in his much annotated piece of parchment. "Certainly that is a powerful piece of enchantment!" he says. "If it does what you say it does, then it is probably the most valuable magic item that we have come across..." He looks up at Merrell, his face impassive. "It is probably worth more than all those magical weapons put together to the right buyer."
Suddenly her face turns dark. "That brooch won't eventually turn you into an undead creature like Torus, will it?"
Blondung shrugs, even though the question wasn't directed at him. "Who
knows what other properties the broach has. It seems to bear the broken
horn symbol of Garg... you-know-who ...and thus was probably made
by some powerful magic user allied with that dark power many, many
years ago. For all we know, it may well have other *darker* properties...
I suggest you allow it to be identified properly" He smirks a
little, "which of course means you will need to remove it again."
Dorn looks up when the broach is presented and scowls a little. Dorn obvious
distaste for the magical item is written on his face. "I wouldnt touch
that thing if my life depended on it." Dorn gets up and finds a table to
himself to finish his meal.
Yvandel gulps in startlement and shock as he looks at the raw pink healed flesh half covering the magical broach set into Merrel's chest.
He looks to Blondung and then to Merrel and then to the others.
"Some sick bastard...That was no way to design a magical device. I ... I ..."
Yvandel shakes as he contemplates the thing.
"Eggghhh."
As everyone voices their opinion about the broach the mage thinks to himself how many times over he would have died were it not for the cursed thing embedded in his chest. When the subject of where he "should" be and what he "should" be doing in a battle arose, he'd had about all he could stand.
Pushing open his robes again, Merrell grabs the broach and pulls with all his strength, finally ripping the broach free from his flesh. It seems even more painful than the last time he had done it, and he staggers for a moment, nearly fainting, before recovering to slam it down on the table, where it makes a squelching noise, as the chunk of his flesh still attached to it is squished onto the table. Blood runs freely down his chest from the not insignificant wound, soaking into his robes (again!).
Everyone is in shock for a moment. Even Blondung looks at Merrell with eyes wide in astonishment at the half elf's horrific looking action.
Several patrons in the inn glance around at the sudden commotion. The same serving wench who had seen the broach earlier gasps as she sees Merrell's bloody chest.
"Do what you want with it! Do whatever you want! But do not presume to
tell me what my role is in battle!
You who know nothing of magic! If I had the magic for abetter solution to the
problems do you not think I would use it?!!!"
Merrell, driven by his anger, ignores the burning pain in his chest, and continues his rant.
"What of you fighters that stand about thinking when you should be fighting, and then when you should be thinking you act without thought what-so-ever."
"Hey lad, calm yer self!" exclaims Larz, finally recovered from his own shock.
The mage turned to Blondung, "That goes well for the mages that have the magics but stand around in battle with thier fingers up their nose."
Blondung's eyes narrow. "I don't believe I have let the party down through holding back on the use of my arts" he says coldly.
Merrell threw up his hands. "Decide what you're going to sell and what you're keeping and give me what I have coming. I'll be leaving for home in the morning."
"And so the Unknowns fall apart" mutters Blondung to himself, as he gingerly picks up the gore covered broach.
Larz stands, placing his hand on Merrell's arm. "We don't all think of ye as foolish ye know!" He smiles gently up at the mage. "Ye've got courage that anyone should be proud of, and I'm sure ye've always done what ye've thought is right at the time..." His smile widens into a grin. "Becoming a titan was certainly a spectacular way to divert the giant's attention the other day!"
Seeing the rather pale pallor of Merrell's face, and the still widening stain of blood on his robes, Larz suddenly grips his holy symbol, and murmurs a prayer. Merrell staggers as a rush of healing magic flows through him. The wound on his chest closes over, leaving a white scar in the middle of a pale pink area of fresh skin.
Larz pulls Merrell back down to his seat. "Leavin' for yer home in the mornin' yer say?" he asks gently. "And just where is that? Did ye not mention ye came from Cormyr? A long trek that be!"
The dwarven priest glances around at the large group, his gaze finally resting on Cleo. "We may not all get on perfectly all the time, but we've all been through a lot together, and I guess we've all developed a bond between us, some stronger than others," his gaze shifts to Blondung for a moment, "and some weaker. I fer one would not like to see yer leave us. Not like this!"
"Pah!" exclaims Blondung. "That's great coming from you who were going to head off to Citadel Adbar on your own! At least I've always said all I wanted to do was reach Silverymoon. I only returned to Kheizar Dalan with you lot because I need the cash if I'm going to settle down here!"
Larz looks angrily back at Blondung. "That's different!" he argues. "I feel I have a duty to go to Citadel Adbar. Not that you'd know anything about duty!" he retorts.
"Hrumph!" snorts Blondung, not bothering to reply further, but returning to his piece of parchment.
There is an awkward silence at the table for a while as everyone finishes their
breakfast...