Endstory: The Death of Lucia Rijker, Paladin

Lucia Rijker knew the smell of the ocean. She had grown up in the Provinces and visited its sea ports often enough. The others in her company thought the town picturesque, but Glittermore was just another sea port to her. As with all sea ports, it was filled with ne'erdowells and mischief makers -- the sort of people who blow into town to drink away their wages and have their way with wanton women. Lucia knew them, too, and she did not approve.

Even so, they were sinners in need of her protection. Who could rest knowing that the townsfolk were fodder for some fell creature? Who, other than her companions, apparently. "My life's blood means nothing, compared to the safety of the folk of this town," she had told her fellow travelers. Not one of them was shamed enough by her words to join her at watch, though. Not one of them thought to spell her, and she was growing tired as the night stretched on toward morning.

Father Brendan had been kind enough to give her his lantern. That was something, at least. Perhaps there was hope for one other person in the party. She was grateful. Her three torches might have taken her a hour to get through, but a pint flask of oil in the priests lantern would last easily until morning.

Lucia strode through the town holding her light source high and feeling the confidence that came with getting used to the layout of the town. In no time she was beginning to feel this was her town. Its populace her charges. This was the life of a knight of the church, she thought. Let others hide beneath their blankets and thatched roofs, Lucia was doing what came naturally to the good and the brave, to people with her calling.

Just then something ran out of the gloom and straight for her. It was a tall and thin humanoid, and its feet made wet squishing noises as it came gibbering and slobbering. Lucia placed the lantern down and drew her sword, saluting the beast. The creature paused and cocked its head to one side, as if acknowledging her salute.

Single combat. The surest test of a Paladin's mettle. Lucia knew that this was her moment. Either there would be glory and honor, or else death without regrets.

The beast came at her, clawing wildly and snapping its jaws.

She dodged its first blows, her blade cutting deep into its flesh. But the creature soon gave at least as good as it got. The pain of her wounds was sharp and hot. The last words of her companions' many warnings flooded into her ears, but she closed them out as she focused on the matter at hand.

She and the beast went round and round, striking and fighting.

The creature was the better prepared for this fight, that much, in time, was apparent. Lucia felt no regrets. There was no dishonor to falling before a superior foe. As the battle stretched on, the Paladin felt her life's blood ebbing away. Strike after strike she rained upon its rubbery flesh, but its fangs and claws did their greater work on her, despite her armor.

In time, she stood before it, panting. This would be the end, she knew. Her life had meant something, she could take the knowledge to her grave, at least. It had meant something and now it would soon be over. Staring at its wounds, Lucia noted that the creature seemed little worse for the wear, while she felt her blood and sweat pooling in her boots.

One last all out effort, she decided. She came at the beast with another flurry of strikes and hardly felt the tear of its claws across her face and abdomen. The light from the lantern dimmed and went out. She heard the snarling, but there was no pain as she floated softly to the ground and went quietly to sleep.

A good death, she smiled to herself. I have that, at least.