The One(s) You Can Save

Rahsaan leaned back against the altar, his expression blank, limbs alternating between numbness and a frigid burn, his breathing shallow as a cold seat ran down his face, stinging his eyes. His right hand clasped to the puncture on his chest with a spasm; though it was no good to try and heal the wound now. He did heave a sigh of relief as he could hear even among the rabble Strahd’s footsteps advance toward the door. He closed his eyes as he heard Aspen attempt to sell the deception further by being particularly distraught over a kidnapped rope.  

“I sense you are trying to deceive me.”

Rahsaan’s eyes snapped open as he heard Strahd reply to Aspen’s feign despair, making his heart skip a beat. With a grimace, he peeked out and saw the vampire lord striding toward Eylylyn, her tiny frame noticeably trembling but still standing defiant. Meanwhile, Mercurian seemed to have taken stand with Strahd, his sword tip down in front of him as if he was just in the company of an old friend. His brother similarly remaining in a daze, as if he had just woken from a long nap. Gohzrik was still nowhere to be seen, while a blow from Zahrys’ gauntlet met only the shadows trailing behind the vampire. The moment seemed to freeze before Rahsaan, as Strahd stopped directly in front of the wizard- and unbeknownst to him, the invisible opening where his prize remained hidden.
“What do I do?” He called out to Voriel, but his angelic guide gave no reply. In fact, the angel had said nothing after Strahd entered the church. He could not have abandoned, left him- not now. But even then- what was Voriel supposed to say? He had used his powers to halt the execution and drive back the lesser vampires. He could not offer anything but  empty words of encouragement.  

And it seemed even Ezra could not protect her most dedicated servants from this creature. What chance did an exhausted angel have? In a bout of realization, Rahsaan's heart sank,
“Strahd was watching us this whole time! That is why we were attacked by these hordes- to bait out Voriel, spend our powers, wear us out so he could take Ireena . . .”

He quickly assessed their situation. Their two toughest fighters were out. He was in no condition to try and fight thanks to the poison that coursed through his veins, Lyn was probably on her last. . . whatever she did to use magic. The crowd could not be incited to riot- they only illusion of sanctuary had been shattered. And with it, their will to fight.

He found himself back in a very familiar predicament, one that had haunted him for years- he remembered terrified eyes staring back at him, pleading for help- and watching dumbstruck as his friend was carried away to their death. He had told himself he could do nothing- and that same voice sounded again, more reasonable with each passing second. Back then  it was just a pair of city guards as his foe. Now he faced a creature of true evil, the master of his twisted land. Something that could will him or each of his friends out of existence if they offended him.

No, there had to be another answer.

In his frantic search around him for anything that could be of use, He saw the inscription Eylylyn had put on the inside of his frayed vest. The glyph contained the visage of Ezra- he could wear her skin over his own. Would that be enough to deter Strahd from angering a Goddess? Could it shake Mercurian free of his blight and allow him to smite this evildoer?

Of course not. He thought to himself. The paladin was under the devil’s influence- he knew their plan from earlier and knew the wizard had inscribed the magic. He would point the trick out to Strahd, and then Rahsaan would attract his attention . . . his wrath.

Of course, he could also run. He had always been so good at that. Running from a fire he had started.

No. He could not run. He would not live with himself if he allowed his friends to suffer because of him. And he would not live himself if he tried to escape through the city in his condition. There was no chance in leaving this place without some sort of sacrifice- and it had to be made before others were hurt. With a groan and another wince, Rahsaan took hold of the altar and pulled himself to his feet.

I made this choice before. And it is one I will have to make again.