The Connor Chronicles PCs/NPCs: Connor Mahony. TOPIC: Striking out on his own...? DATE/TIME: 16th Quest Day, 937 WA, Time of Day. LOCATION: Rockfort, Eamend.
Of course it happened that way...
The Norwith ranger stood between the nautical bunk beds, his mind lost at sea. The ship he stood upon, alternatively, was securely docked in the Rockfort harbor, but Connor couldn't say the same for his purpose. After two weeks of repeated traumas, the orphan son of Norwith had finally reached a breaking point - and it had only taken a rapid series of new horrors, followed by a massive disappointment.
After the undead rose in the southern field outside of Rockfort, Connor had even rolled with that new nightmare. He'd led the wagons into a circle and spirited across the perimeter to ensure all the children and unarmed villagers were inside the defenses. The ranger had even experienced a rare moment of hope when he stood, bow at the ready, and witnessed a massive Torinn hurl barrels of holy water into the horde - thinning out the impending death. What a fool that Connor would feel in only a few short moments. When Ben warned of a dragon, Connor's hopes plummeted. Then the dragon appeared, his hopes burned in the field along with the zombies. And then Ben was taken... along with the ranger's faith. What happened next was... Well, of course it happened that way.
The group descended into chaos - faster than even Connor could have imagined. He didn't care who had what side. The facts were the facts, Ben had just sacrificed himself for the living souls in that field and the party spat in the face of his wishes. Did they think the monster hunter with a particular axe to grind against dragons wanted to surrender? Connor couldn't speak the language and even he understood what had just happened. He wasn't happy about it; he was devastated. But he would have been crushed had they lost Ben and the reason he'd allowed himself to be stolen. But despite the party's meltdown, Connor had taken it upon himself to get the caravan moving again. Once in Rockfort, he could have easily predicted their responses. Vorlae retreated to the ship, to her dragon, and her crystal ball. Torinn retreated to his work, where the dragonborn felt the most useful. And Rolen and Thea quickly discovered a new mystery to unravel. He couldn't blame any of them... but that didn't mean he had to put up with any of it.
Connor knew his next move. Now he just needed to decide how to make it. He should have told the group... but then they'd want to help. Connor didn't need their help, in fact, they would just slow him down. And as much as he wanted to pull Torinn away, he knew that the inventor's weapons were their best chance against the massive red dragon. And while he hated Rolen and Thea for being so easily distracted, he couldn't help but wonder what Ben would have done. Rescue the girls. That's what Ben would have done. Gale? Honestly, he didn't trust Gale yet. And Vorlae... she'd snapped harder than him. Which he sort of admired... in an odd way.
No, he needed to go alone.
When Connor stood atop the Rockfort wall, just after dark, his resolve returned. The grasslands between Rockfort and Grasswind were his second home. He'd be able to make the journey under the cover of dark in only one night. And once he reached the other city? That was simple. The blade of his sword would find the skin under Thad's chin and Connor would find his answers.
What else hadn't the wannabe rebel told them? Why had he actually sponsored the ragtag group of adventurers? And most importantly... Connor required an explanation on why Ben was the only person taken by the evil dragon, and interestingly, the only person Thaddeus had magically tracked. Venyok seemed to find Ben as easily as one of Thad's birds could. Connor smelled a damn set up. And Thad's ability to keep breathing relied on his ability to talk fast and track Ben.
Once Connor had his answers, he'd send a raven to the others and explain himself, hopefully with a fresh location of their...
Wait... He was distracted when Rockfort's Northern gate started to open. But the ranger knew that the doors should have been sealed overnight. The dark rider appeared and Connor's body suddenly ached, an involuntary response to the proximity of the man's morning star. Connor quietly cursed under his breath when the intruder rode straight into the monk-controlled town. The ranger glanced to the north, a short and fleeting gesture because he realized exactly what Ben would have told him to do in this situation. He sighed, snatched his bow from his back, and ran toward the nearest rooftop. He jumped, ran, and jumped some more to keep up with the villain. Quickly into his pursuit it turned fruitless, he'd never be able to keep up. The archer stopped suddenly and launched a fiery arrow into the night's sky. Giving up his location, he hopefully warned the group. The thunderous hooves of the man in black's horse paused and Connor lowered his eyes to see the fiend's eyes peering back at him. The last two times they'd met Connor had nearly died... what was one more time between friends?