The Death of Drago Beltchen
Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2012 6:44 pm
“It's all truly embarrassing, and one mistake after another.” I said as started my story for the Guard Captain and the scribe recording it.
“As with most tales of woe, this one begins and ends with a woman. You see, I fell in love, and well, I was trying to be a gentleman like my mother taught me. But, well things just, get frustrating when you are trying to be good to a woman and not push her. I mean really, any good woman is worth waiting forever for, yes?”
“Well, I... good gods this is embarrassing. I decided to dress up and go find a pliable woman to aid me in my resolve to wait you see. I went all the way to Beregost in the hopes that no one I knew would see me, or worse yet, report back my actions to others.”
“I was also worried that with no one around that I knew, I might be knifed for my coin, so I wore leathers under a fine tunic for protection, and carried a blade at my hip.”
“Well, hells, I checked into the inn, room 2, and as I'm walking to my room, I see someone I think I recognize from my regular tavern. Oh good gods, I'm nearly blind with fright at the time, I can't even look her in the face.”
“I finally was able to relax when she then asked me for a donation as she was collecting offerings for an orphanage. Of course I dug a generous donation from my purse, just to be able to walk away without scrutiny, and thinking that I was not recognized.”
“Breathing a sigh of relief, I checked the room, saw all was in order, and made my way to the tavern. I was much enjoying a conversation with a woman when the subject of payment arose. I was immediately disappointed, but Oh how enticing she was...” the confessing man spoke with heavy sigh, and a shake of his hanging head, “she was enticing and arousing so, I was soon even prepared to pay her when she finished her pitch.”
“I was enjoying her public company more than I thought I would, when the woman collecting for the orphans walked in again with a very pretty woman. I could overhear some of what they were saying, sounded like she had a significant donation waiting to be collected at her home. Our eyes met, exchanged silent pleasantries.”
“Soon after I realized, the lion's share of my coin had been given for the orphans, and I didn't know if I even had enough left for what the coin lass was asking. Just thought I would excuse myself and go up to my room and count my coins. But on my way, I walked into the new girl in the hall.”
“She was shy, and pleasant, said her name was Sister Beatrice, and devotee of Selune. She wondered if I would be willing to come to her home and help her carry the donations they were making to the orphanage. The look she gave me was withering to my will, and I had to say yes.”
“I'm not one to turn down a woman in need, let alone a pretty one at that, but that look held what I thought was much promise and the coin lass was instantly forgotten. In truth, I am quite ashamed of myself for the thoughts that I was thinking as I followed her up the street watching her gentle sway and the way her dress caressed her body.”
“But truth be told, I was there for the purpose of fulfilling those desires so as to quench a fire threatening to burn me wholly. Can I really be blamed for being so inflamed?”
“We made small talk at her door, and said she would introduce me to her employers man who was in charge while the noble was away. She was going to go upstairs and bring down the donations while I spoke with him. It all seemed quite innocent.”
“I went in with her, and only hear what sounded like a single soul alive in the place, footsteps upstairs. I asked sister Beatrice if I should wait down here, and she just walked up the stairs before I got the question out.. so when I noted finally that she had left the door open...”
“I thought that meant I should be following, because the butler was on the second floor. I thought to go introduce myself, be polite, when I got to the landing though, something didn't seem quite right. I thought perhaps Sister Beatrice was in some trouble for bringing me back to the manor house.”
“So I crept about the corner to have a peek, trying to not cause trouble, but then Beatrice just comes walking out of the door of the bedroom and points to a box, natural as can be, asking me to take that one.”
“No sooner did she say this, but I heard the door shut and lock, and there was a man standing there confronting Sister Beatrice. Now I'm not sure what he was on about, but he seemed to be calling her false, but clever. He rapped on a box and said ‘The game is afoot’ and suddenly the room was filled with large angry, armored men...”
“I thought she was being robbed, because he didn't' look like a butler, so tore off my tunic and cloak to unfetter myself, and put my hand to my sword. Sister Beatrice yelled 'Now' and ran for the door, leaving me more than a little confused.”
“At this point, the man said something to the effect of 'you had better control the woman if you want to walk out of here alive. Seeing myself woefully outnumbered I did as I was told, and walked after the woman. I found her near the front door, also locked, barring her escape.”
“I convinced her to calm down, as it was beginning to appear that these men were actually employed by the noble of the house, and not brigands. And thought that this could all be talked out with the authorities, and no one need to be hurt. She flopped into a chair and I stood near her to hear out the man.”
“He said something about thinking the noble was paranoid, but apparently justifiably so. He also lamented something about a girl he believed most assuredly murdered. Sister Beatrice whispered, 'She's just sleeping’ but I did not think that he heard her, so I informed him he was wrong, and that no harm had come to the girl.”
“Then in his calm way, informed us we that was good, for normally it would have gone better for us if that was the case, but it was going to be death for us now. Please understand, the exact words he spoke are lost to the fact that my heart started pounding in my chest loudly enough to drown my ears.”
“But the man said he was to kill us, for no crime, I wasn't just going to stand there and let men with bared blades cut me and what seemed an innocent beautiful woman down. I nudged her up and threw the chair through the window and drew my blade to fend them off as we jumped out the window.”
“Those men were murderous entire, fully intending to take my life and hers, an unarmed woman. A gentleman could not stand by and allow that, nor could he run away just to save his own. I defended her and me till we were well on the road, then tried to pull her aside to ask for explanation.”
“Now understand, at this point the most I've done is break a window, and possibly a chair. Any scratches I may have given the men intent on my death will have healed entirely within a week. I was clear of it, and wanted an explanation.”
“The next I know, the men renew their attack as we were near the hedge, shooting bolts and arrows at Sister Beatrice, causing her to run. I had been restringing my bow, as I always keep a bow handy for brigands on the road, and I took off after her.”
“The leader of the men ran past me, and started, um.... “ the man telling his story waggles his fingers thinking of the word that fits, “Casting, be-spelling by magic Sister Beatrice. She was frozen, not moving, he needed only to walk up and capture her. I started to approach him, to beg him to listen to reason, when he unleashed a terrible spell striking the captured Sister over and over with magic, tearing her dress and bringing blood.”
“He didn't intend to capture, he truly wished her dead. I thought again this must be a brigand not a man of law.. and attempted to distract him from her by shooting arrows close enough to get his attention. He just ran at her, apparently knowing his spell holding her was not to last, and caught up to her just before I caught up to him and he spelled her again dropping her bleeding to the cobbles.”
“He shouted at me to surrender, and seeing the men on me in a second, and knowing if I resisted the woman would have no chance, I froze. I had seen this before, one fallen on edge of death, and what little life remains ebbing away. I threw down my weapons and surrendered. Begging for help for the woman.”
“The men charging hit me anyway, knocking me to the ground, and one of them struck down the spell caster that I thought was their leader. I can only assume he thought that the man went too far as well.”
“But then the man pulled out a bandage and approached Sister Beatrice, and dropped it on her. This would do nothing, I struggled away shouting "Sister" and tried to get to her, knowing I could have helped her.”
“Another blow to my head struck me to the ground, and I watched the last drops of her life bleed from her, and heard her last breath rattle out to be recorded by no one a final word. The unarmed woman hunted down and murdered on the road. I fell unconscious either by my wounds or by another blow, and then the men who then knocked me out brought me to this jail.”
At this point, the scribe recording the statement and the Captain of the guard whose cell I now occupied looked at me and sighed. The scribe, sympathetic. The captain seemed to think on this for some time.. but I was a man of Amn, in a Baldurian jail... it turned out that I had little hope of a fair hearing of the facts.
In fact, it would seem that though my only crime is to be a gentleman of Amn, this corrupt man would attach to me many charges most foul; Assassin attempted, murder of men and the rape and murder of woman I never met. I would hang, if not for the call for volunteers to locate the mercenaries that were responsible for my capture, for they had gone missing. Lamenting the loss of my purse and my belongings, I assumed that they had taken off to fence my goods and drink my gold. But their comrades thought something more dire.
My spirits were low, regretting even getting out of my soft bed with the plan to come to anywhere within reach of this damned city. ‘I should have stayed in Nashkel.’ I heard myself muttering, and received a spear butt in the face to quiet me once more. It was then I began to wish and imagine if I had done things differently... I had no regrets following the woman, something familiar about her and no malice, I’d not wish her to face her fate alone, the gods know what those brutes would have done to her before killing her. No, I thought to myself ‘if I had known such evil existed in the men trusted to be holders of the power of law in this land.. I would not have stayed my blade and only sought to escape with the girl... I would rather have run through a few and held them there falling in the process to give her the chance to escape. Better than see her die that way, than go to the gallows for another's crimes.’
Though it took most of a moon.. the Captain’s hired men returned again and again, each time with more and more overwhelming evidence to show my story was true, and I was vindicated of the crimes, or so I thought. That bastard was still unwilling to see me freed, his hatred and mistrust of Amn enough to demand a ransom for my neck. A thousand gold coins or he would see my neck stretched. Was it thus? was it hate or was he truly that corrupt? I was imprisoned, where would I get such payment? Was it false hope, was he trying to inflict even more pain? Or was it greed?
‘It must be greed’ I thought, as the people who had worked to see the truth be known, came up with the coins themselves... more to the point, the simply dressed elf woman produced a purse to give to the Captain. I was stunned that she could have that but she did, claiming it was for a shrine. She said she could not imagine letting such be built if it meant an innocent man was to hang.
I was sick.. poor food, fetid water, repeated beatings with club and weapon haft, barely sleeping for 10 minutes at a time for so many days... and now to see this woman give up something she had apparently sacrificed and worked long for, for my sake.. it gave me hope, anger, and disgust for myself and the bloody captain of the guard.
The guard thrust a pack of ‘my belongings’ at me and told me to get out. Barely enough clothing to keep warm at sea, a rusty dagger and boots with holes in the sole, and a chain mail shirt with so many holes one might think it was used on a practice dummy for cavalry lancers. I dressed quickly and left.
Outside the elf woman stopped me. She thrust a small bag into my hands, with some food, a potion and more than a hundred gold coins in it. She pointed me to the docks and advised I find my passage south on a ship quickly.
Drago Beltchen died that day. He was attacked by a street knife while armed only with a rusty dagger. The body was thrown into the harbor, the heavy but useless chain shirt wrapped about its chest, held in place the rusty dagger wedged to the hilt between its ribs. As the body sank, a dock worker called out “Who was that poor bastard?”.
I shrugged, and answered back “Some Amnian, Drago something.”
“As with most tales of woe, this one begins and ends with a woman. You see, I fell in love, and well, I was trying to be a gentleman like my mother taught me. But, well things just, get frustrating when you are trying to be good to a woman and not push her. I mean really, any good woman is worth waiting forever for, yes?”
“Well, I... good gods this is embarrassing. I decided to dress up and go find a pliable woman to aid me in my resolve to wait you see. I went all the way to Beregost in the hopes that no one I knew would see me, or worse yet, report back my actions to others.”
“I was also worried that with no one around that I knew, I might be knifed for my coin, so I wore leathers under a fine tunic for protection, and carried a blade at my hip.”
“Well, hells, I checked into the inn, room 2, and as I'm walking to my room, I see someone I think I recognize from my regular tavern. Oh good gods, I'm nearly blind with fright at the time, I can't even look her in the face.”
“I finally was able to relax when she then asked me for a donation as she was collecting offerings for an orphanage. Of course I dug a generous donation from my purse, just to be able to walk away without scrutiny, and thinking that I was not recognized.”
“Breathing a sigh of relief, I checked the room, saw all was in order, and made my way to the tavern. I was much enjoying a conversation with a woman when the subject of payment arose. I was immediately disappointed, but Oh how enticing she was...” the confessing man spoke with heavy sigh, and a shake of his hanging head, “she was enticing and arousing so, I was soon even prepared to pay her when she finished her pitch.”
“I was enjoying her public company more than I thought I would, when the woman collecting for the orphans walked in again with a very pretty woman. I could overhear some of what they were saying, sounded like she had a significant donation waiting to be collected at her home. Our eyes met, exchanged silent pleasantries.”
“Soon after I realized, the lion's share of my coin had been given for the orphans, and I didn't know if I even had enough left for what the coin lass was asking. Just thought I would excuse myself and go up to my room and count my coins. But on my way, I walked into the new girl in the hall.”
“She was shy, and pleasant, said her name was Sister Beatrice, and devotee of Selune. She wondered if I would be willing to come to her home and help her carry the donations they were making to the orphanage. The look she gave me was withering to my will, and I had to say yes.”
“I'm not one to turn down a woman in need, let alone a pretty one at that, but that look held what I thought was much promise and the coin lass was instantly forgotten. In truth, I am quite ashamed of myself for the thoughts that I was thinking as I followed her up the street watching her gentle sway and the way her dress caressed her body.”
“But truth be told, I was there for the purpose of fulfilling those desires so as to quench a fire threatening to burn me wholly. Can I really be blamed for being so inflamed?”
“We made small talk at her door, and said she would introduce me to her employers man who was in charge while the noble was away. She was going to go upstairs and bring down the donations while I spoke with him. It all seemed quite innocent.”
“I went in with her, and only hear what sounded like a single soul alive in the place, footsteps upstairs. I asked sister Beatrice if I should wait down here, and she just walked up the stairs before I got the question out.. so when I noted finally that she had left the door open...”
“I thought that meant I should be following, because the butler was on the second floor. I thought to go introduce myself, be polite, when I got to the landing though, something didn't seem quite right. I thought perhaps Sister Beatrice was in some trouble for bringing me back to the manor house.”
“So I crept about the corner to have a peek, trying to not cause trouble, but then Beatrice just comes walking out of the door of the bedroom and points to a box, natural as can be, asking me to take that one.”
“No sooner did she say this, but I heard the door shut and lock, and there was a man standing there confronting Sister Beatrice. Now I'm not sure what he was on about, but he seemed to be calling her false, but clever. He rapped on a box and said ‘The game is afoot’ and suddenly the room was filled with large angry, armored men...”
“I thought she was being robbed, because he didn't' look like a butler, so tore off my tunic and cloak to unfetter myself, and put my hand to my sword. Sister Beatrice yelled 'Now' and ran for the door, leaving me more than a little confused.”
“At this point, the man said something to the effect of 'you had better control the woman if you want to walk out of here alive. Seeing myself woefully outnumbered I did as I was told, and walked after the woman. I found her near the front door, also locked, barring her escape.”
“I convinced her to calm down, as it was beginning to appear that these men were actually employed by the noble of the house, and not brigands. And thought that this could all be talked out with the authorities, and no one need to be hurt. She flopped into a chair and I stood near her to hear out the man.”
“He said something about thinking the noble was paranoid, but apparently justifiably so. He also lamented something about a girl he believed most assuredly murdered. Sister Beatrice whispered, 'She's just sleeping’ but I did not think that he heard her, so I informed him he was wrong, and that no harm had come to the girl.”
“Then in his calm way, informed us we that was good, for normally it would have gone better for us if that was the case, but it was going to be death for us now. Please understand, the exact words he spoke are lost to the fact that my heart started pounding in my chest loudly enough to drown my ears.”
“But the man said he was to kill us, for no crime, I wasn't just going to stand there and let men with bared blades cut me and what seemed an innocent beautiful woman down. I nudged her up and threw the chair through the window and drew my blade to fend them off as we jumped out the window.”
“Those men were murderous entire, fully intending to take my life and hers, an unarmed woman. A gentleman could not stand by and allow that, nor could he run away just to save his own. I defended her and me till we were well on the road, then tried to pull her aside to ask for explanation.”
“Now understand, at this point the most I've done is break a window, and possibly a chair. Any scratches I may have given the men intent on my death will have healed entirely within a week. I was clear of it, and wanted an explanation.”
“The next I know, the men renew their attack as we were near the hedge, shooting bolts and arrows at Sister Beatrice, causing her to run. I had been restringing my bow, as I always keep a bow handy for brigands on the road, and I took off after her.”
“The leader of the men ran past me, and started, um.... “ the man telling his story waggles his fingers thinking of the word that fits, “Casting, be-spelling by magic Sister Beatrice. She was frozen, not moving, he needed only to walk up and capture her. I started to approach him, to beg him to listen to reason, when he unleashed a terrible spell striking the captured Sister over and over with magic, tearing her dress and bringing blood.”
“He didn't intend to capture, he truly wished her dead. I thought again this must be a brigand not a man of law.. and attempted to distract him from her by shooting arrows close enough to get his attention. He just ran at her, apparently knowing his spell holding her was not to last, and caught up to her just before I caught up to him and he spelled her again dropping her bleeding to the cobbles.”
“He shouted at me to surrender, and seeing the men on me in a second, and knowing if I resisted the woman would have no chance, I froze. I had seen this before, one fallen on edge of death, and what little life remains ebbing away. I threw down my weapons and surrendered. Begging for help for the woman.”
“The men charging hit me anyway, knocking me to the ground, and one of them struck down the spell caster that I thought was their leader. I can only assume he thought that the man went too far as well.”
“But then the man pulled out a bandage and approached Sister Beatrice, and dropped it on her. This would do nothing, I struggled away shouting "Sister" and tried to get to her, knowing I could have helped her.”
“Another blow to my head struck me to the ground, and I watched the last drops of her life bleed from her, and heard her last breath rattle out to be recorded by no one a final word. The unarmed woman hunted down and murdered on the road. I fell unconscious either by my wounds or by another blow, and then the men who then knocked me out brought me to this jail.”
At this point, the scribe recording the statement and the Captain of the guard whose cell I now occupied looked at me and sighed. The scribe, sympathetic. The captain seemed to think on this for some time.. but I was a man of Amn, in a Baldurian jail... it turned out that I had little hope of a fair hearing of the facts.
In fact, it would seem that though my only crime is to be a gentleman of Amn, this corrupt man would attach to me many charges most foul; Assassin attempted, murder of men and the rape and murder of woman I never met. I would hang, if not for the call for volunteers to locate the mercenaries that were responsible for my capture, for they had gone missing. Lamenting the loss of my purse and my belongings, I assumed that they had taken off to fence my goods and drink my gold. But their comrades thought something more dire.
My spirits were low, regretting even getting out of my soft bed with the plan to come to anywhere within reach of this damned city. ‘I should have stayed in Nashkel.’ I heard myself muttering, and received a spear butt in the face to quiet me once more. It was then I began to wish and imagine if I had done things differently... I had no regrets following the woman, something familiar about her and no malice, I’d not wish her to face her fate alone, the gods know what those brutes would have done to her before killing her. No, I thought to myself ‘if I had known such evil existed in the men trusted to be holders of the power of law in this land.. I would not have stayed my blade and only sought to escape with the girl... I would rather have run through a few and held them there falling in the process to give her the chance to escape. Better than see her die that way, than go to the gallows for another's crimes.’
Though it took most of a moon.. the Captain’s hired men returned again and again, each time with more and more overwhelming evidence to show my story was true, and I was vindicated of the crimes, or so I thought. That bastard was still unwilling to see me freed, his hatred and mistrust of Amn enough to demand a ransom for my neck. A thousand gold coins or he would see my neck stretched. Was it thus? was it hate or was he truly that corrupt? I was imprisoned, where would I get such payment? Was it false hope, was he trying to inflict even more pain? Or was it greed?
‘It must be greed’ I thought, as the people who had worked to see the truth be known, came up with the coins themselves... more to the point, the simply dressed elf woman produced a purse to give to the Captain. I was stunned that she could have that but she did, claiming it was for a shrine. She said she could not imagine letting such be built if it meant an innocent man was to hang.
I was sick.. poor food, fetid water, repeated beatings with club and weapon haft, barely sleeping for 10 minutes at a time for so many days... and now to see this woman give up something she had apparently sacrificed and worked long for, for my sake.. it gave me hope, anger, and disgust for myself and the bloody captain of the guard.
The guard thrust a pack of ‘my belongings’ at me and told me to get out. Barely enough clothing to keep warm at sea, a rusty dagger and boots with holes in the sole, and a chain mail shirt with so many holes one might think it was used on a practice dummy for cavalry lancers. I dressed quickly and left.
Outside the elf woman stopped me. She thrust a small bag into my hands, with some food, a potion and more than a hundred gold coins in it. She pointed me to the docks and advised I find my passage south on a ship quickly.
Drago Beltchen died that day. He was attacked by a street knife while armed only with a rusty dagger. The body was thrown into the harbor, the heavy but useless chain shirt wrapped about its chest, held in place the rusty dagger wedged to the hilt between its ribs. As the body sank, a dock worker called out “Who was that poor bastard?”.
I shrugged, and answered back “Some Amnian, Drago something.”