Almonihah growled low in his throat. “I’ll go after them.” He turned and ran down the stairs and out of the inn.
Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, he saw no sign of the robed assailants. With a grimace, he took to the air, circling wider and higher, searching for any sign of them. He still hated flying, but this was too important to let that get in the way. But despite his search, he saw nothing that would indicate where they had gone. And so he landed and looked closely at the ground… there! Where one of them had jumped from Garkhen’s window, he’d left footprints in the soft ground… but he had soon gotten onto cobblestones. Still, it gave him a direction.
Meanwhile Garkhen had looked around the room more thoroughly. The innkeeper had been up to see what the commotion was, and he had simply informed him that thieves had broken in and stolen some of his possessions. Once he was again alone, Garkhen had looked around the room again and noticed that there was a small piece of black cloth on the ground—likely torn off of one of the attacker’s robes while he had fought them. He knew a spell-prayer that could use such a thing…
Soon enough he was armed and armored, walking briskly out into the night. The piece of cloth floated above his outstretched hand, pointing the way to the rest of the robe. He had never thought he’d be using a ‘lost item’ type of spell-prayer in such a manner, but it seemed to be working.
He was startled to see Almonihah flying towards him. The half-bronze dragon landed beside him and followed as he led. Almonihah nodded at the floating piece of cloth.
“That’ll lead us to ’em?”
Garkhen nodded slightly in return. “At least to the robe this was torn from.”
“You make enough noise t’ let th’ whole town know you’re coming.”
“Let us hope they do not realize what it means.”
They hurried on in silence after that, save for the sounds of Garkhen’s armor. It was difficult to follow the direction of the spell, as they sometimes had to go around a house to another street to continue in the indicated direction. Eventually, however, they reached a house that the little piece of cloth pointed straight at no matter where they stood.
“Must’ve taken it in,” Almonihah commented.
Before Garkhen could finish his thought, Almonihah ran at the door, drawing Eldereth as he turned to strike it with his shoulder. He burst through in a shower of splinters as it broke around the door’s latch, and pointed his sword at the first person he saw within.
“You. Th’ men that came here. Where’d they go?”
Garkhen ran to catch up to him, hoping to head off whatever disaster looked imminent. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of the man the Ranger was threatening—a large man in a familiar dark robe, but what caught his eye was the hint of an iron chain around his neck.
The man looked down at Almonihah’s sword, which was now barely an inch from his throat, and then up at the half-dragon. He visibly swallowed.
“They… they went… downstairs.” He pointed to a doorway opposite him.
Without hesitation, Almonihah turned and went through. Garkhen paused a moment, considering the still-trembling man.
“I am afraid I cannot leave you here to your devices,” he said, raising his holy symbol. He uttered a spell-prayer, and his symbol flashed a bright silver light. When the light faded, the man was perfectly still. Garkhen took a moment to make certain he was truly locked in place, then followed Almonihah.
There was indeed a staircase down in the next room, but at the bottom was another door. Almonihah had clearly not had as much luck breaking through it as he had with the one upstairs, for he was now hacking at it with Eldereth. He looked up as Garkhen arrived.
“Might do better,” He said, nodding at the stocky half-blue dragon.
“Perhaps,” Garkhen agreed. He pulled out Silverflame, lifted it over his head with both hands, and brought it down with all his might.
His mace smashed through the wood of the door, and then a swift kick finished its ruin. As soon as he was through, however, a bolt of fire soared out of the room beyond and struck him in the chest. Garkhen winced, but sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the enchantment on his armor that turned what would have been a searing flame to a comparatively mild heat. It still hurt, certainly, but it was not lethal.
Close your eyes! Garkhen shouted back to Almonihah in Draconic, then shouted another spell-prayer, this one flashing a brilliant light into the room ahead.
When he opened his eyes, Garkhen could see three black-robed men in the room beyond, all clearly trying to recover from the blinding light. He charged ahead, and lacking a better option, punched the nearest of them in the gut with all his strength. The man fell back, striking his head on the wall as he did so, then crumpled to the ground. The half-blue dragon stared at him in shock for a moment, hoping that he had not just killed the man.
Almonihah, however, had no such compunctions. He charged past Garkhen, plunging Zithrandrak into the chest of one of the still-recovering men, and slashing the other with Eldereth. Once he was certain none of them were still a threat, he started searching them and the room, looking for the Amulet.
“Almonihah!” Garkhen exclaimed, the shock of what he had seen enough to refocus him. “You… killed those men!”
Almonihah gave him a strange look. “They tried t’ kill you first.” He went back to searching.
“But…” Garkhen was at a loss for words.
Suddenly Almonihah looked up. “Someone else here,” he said, and charged through a doorway in the back of the room.
Almonihah is not a nice guy.
Also, I think this shows more clearly than usual the fact that Almonihah and Garkhen are, quite frankly, superhuman. Draezolnian dragons tell the laws of physics to pack up and leave, and while half-dragons aren’t as good at it as full dragons, both Almonihah and Garkhen are stronger and tougher than should be possible with their muscle mass. And both of them are quite fit to begin with.
And yes, Garkhen is actually stronger than Almonihah, despite being two feet shorter than him.