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| Caterane08-23-05, 04:46 PM | TALES OF GLADIUS http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Struktur/Tales1.jpg - DO NOT POST HERE - Welcome to the Library of Gladius. Here you will find a multitude of heroic tales, stories of past glory and slaughter, of wars long forgotten, and of heroes that will still be present in the minds of those not yet born. We also have sections with informations about the Pitlords, those mysterious powers that rule the City of Gladius from behind the curtain. Come in and grab a book; I am sure you will find it most interesting. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 04:50 PM | Bookshelf Nonfiction :teach: World Literature :teach: The Life of Kelek Part I - The Neighbor (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049239) Kelek's journal accounts the feud between two neighbors. Part II - The Fugue Plane (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049321) A scramble to leave the dreaded plane means dealing with its sentinel warden... the Harvester. Part III - Iron in Love (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049362) Hate and Love mix well in the eyes of those seeking vengeance. The March of Evil Part I - Iron's Repentance (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049475) Two moral quests clash to uncover a devious plot. Part II - Ebelin and Iron (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049666) Reconciliation cannot save the fall of a mighty tribe. Part III - Iron's Mission (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049715) Venegance is served with the swift blitz attack upon his offenders. Part IV - Ebelin's Mission (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049812) Ebelin ends the struggle with the ridding the final piece of the puzzle. The Dark Secret of Dargenfest Hall (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049944) Research subjects are never in short supply with the right Professor. The Dungeon of the Dire Wood (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050053) The brave delve into one of the most secret and perilous dungeons recorded. The Demise of Laness - Part I - IV (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050163) Some beauties attract beasts .. some beauties attract death. The Time of Dread Part I (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050274) Prophecies come to pass as all of civilization crumbles. Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050357) As society burns, so too does a melee of epic proportions. The Fall of Dusk (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050419) A legend educates the next generation on the aftermath of the Time of Dread. The Golem (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050449) A project gone awry must be quelled for the creator's sake. Nightfall in Gladius Zoo (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050503) Trespassing with intent to steal carries steep penalties. The Lich King - Part I, Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7053102) A lethal foe is discovered and opposed. Drow Affairs (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054094) A dismal tale typical of those concerning drow. Ancient Evils Part I - The Shadowbeast (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054150) The vile reach of an ancient plague is felt. Part II - The Devil's Deal (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054171) Goods hearts are often targeted by evil... sometimes literally. Part III - The Tree of Life (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054196) The soul of the very world is in peril as multiple plots converge. Part IV - Ancient Times The epic adventure and struggle of Arkin, and the conclusion of the beginning. Chapter 1-4 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054245) Chapter 5-6 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054273) Chapter 7-8 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054328) The Deepstone Squad Chapter 1-7 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7087708) The adventures of a group of infamous ruffians. Chapter 8-10 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7088233) Twisted self-destruction and a questionably justified demise. Trouble in Seven Strides Part I (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7088419) Old villains and new villains clash. Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7088591) The crazed Ildechai continues his work and terror. Part III (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7088880) The Archangel liberates the two from a time-crossing foe. Part IV (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7089138) The last hurrah of the foe's creations. The Year of Hell Part I (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7092231) The rise of Angosh's grip on the city... Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7092449) ...and the fall of power. The Solstice's Revenge (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7096295) Revenge is a hard-won goal, questioning loyalty and humanity. The Purging Begins (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7096460) A beacon of light flares anew. Relics of War: A New Darkness (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7096587) The tools of the old war are not always lost. The Precursor Shadow (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7096674) The return of a dark legend. :fight!: Arena Tales :fight!: The Entertainer Part I (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048944) Bruno vies for a position as Arena Entertainer. Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049041) A team match find Bruno in another crowd-rousing performance. The Bonesnatcher's Guild Part I (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049132) A firm recount of the antics of the wicked, illegal guild. Part II (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049175) The diminished wind of the guild. Hanz and Spike (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049911) Experienced coverage by Galadius's top announcers! The Madman's Prayer (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050792) Sanity is never a requisite to fight in the Arena. :whatsthis Fiction :rofl: The Far Realms (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7049434) A delirious ride with a touch of insanity. USS Wonderhorse (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050590) Space. The Final Frontier... with an epic battle between starships. Late Night with Jindl and the Harvester (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050658) Inside commentary with Gladius's more infamous figures. Endtime (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7050805) A vision of the future with racing action and technological intrigue. Snark's Dance-Off (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7054120) Lord of the Dance is redifined in this tale of move and groove. :dancin: Illustrated :cool: The Gargantuan Dire Cat (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7095866) A normal Arena battle with an unusual guest. A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7096155) A silent slideshow that speaks for itself. :ayyyy!:Writing Contest Winners :w00t: Reclaiming Corona Ixenthor reclaims his weapon. In Darkest Night, Part 1 An elven guard hunts intruders New Wizards, Old Stories Wizard's at graduation trade stories Kelvemor's Bidding ... :clap: Member's Gallery :clap: Gallery 1 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048390) Gallery 2 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048407) Gallery 3 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048445) Gallery 4 (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048453) http://www.1a-network.de/images/cgi-bin/gbs/smilies/birthday.gif BIRTHDAYS! http://www.sebastian-sutor.de/smilies/troet.gif Current Roster (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=7048484) |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 04:54 PM | The Core Coliseum Gallery 1 http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Mo.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-WizO_Shadow.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Caterane2.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Tellish.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-LLMadCow.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Pittbull2.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Sindorin2.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Huan.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-TelinArtho.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Iced.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Macbrea.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Dracazar.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-SauroGrenom.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-DSugui.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-MindwandererB.jpg Portal to Gallery 2 Portal to Gallery 3 Portal to Gallery 4 |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 04:56 PM | The Core Coliseum Gallery 2 http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Sloisel.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Magagumo.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-SnarkHunter.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-DruidRoxors.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Zerone.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Ashenai.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/AshBirthday.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Kemal1.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-McJarvis.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-VivatGrendel.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Poe.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Kaigan.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Kedi.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-bgt.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Lucanthrope.jpg Portal to Gallery 1 Portal to Gallery 3 Portal to Gallery 4 |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 04:58 PM | The Core Coliseum Gallery 3 http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-DeadlyAssassin.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Dalton.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Nanaleigh.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Mitza.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Snommelp.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Nightbanegod.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-bluemage55.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Book5.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-MysticMonk.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Beldin.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Highfire.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Tardis.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Papapeperoni.jpg http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Vecnoran.jpg Portal to Gallery 1 Portal to Gallery 2 Portal to Gallery 4 |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 04:59 PM | http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Mitglieder/CoCo-Caterane.jpg Portal to Gallery 1 Portal to Gallery 2 Portal to Gallery 3 |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 05:02 PM | http://www.sebastian-sutor.de/smilies/birthday.gif Birthdays of our Members http://www.1a-network.de/images/cgi-bin/gbs/smilies/birthday.gif http://www.sebastian-sutor.de/smilies/troet.gif - You gain 2° on your Birthday - JAN 01: Dalton Onestone (1960) JAN 04: Myrridin (1979) JAN 11: Vathelokai (1980) JAN 20: Ashenai (1980) JAN 22: Hrothmund (19??) JAN 24: MadCowTemplate (1982) JAN 29: Hatzinger (1976) FEB 02: King Uther (19??) FEB 03: LLMadCow (1977) FEB 05: Erithmu (1980) FEB 07: Zerone (1974) FEB 15: One_Winged_Angel (1987) FEB 16: Arstimis (1986) FEB 17: Eluria (1979) FEB 23: Caterane (1977) MAR 01: Nightbanegod (1984) MAR 15: hogarth (1974) MAR 16: Yitzi (1987) MAR 17: Nanaleigh (1981) MAR 26: Ariel23 (1971) MAR 29: Biota (1973) MAR 29: Moherajikuyx (1976) MAR 29: mattes (1991) MAR 30: Azarias (19??) APR 16: Druid Roxors (1984) APR 23: DarthVegan (1978) MAY 09: Einzelgaenger (1987) MAY 10: Papapeperoni (1991) MAY 13: Iced (1989) MAY 23: Odin the Reaper (1986) MAY 25: Jonah Black (1979) MAY 25: MitzaVolchenko (1976) JUN 01: Zevox (1987) JUN 04: Tellish of Ket (1969) JUN 06: Anaconda (1991) JUN 20: Motherbast (1980) JUN 22: Abyssal Stalker (1981) JUN 23: Jindl (1976) JUN 28: MysticMonk (1986) JUN 29: Cellardweller (1976) JUL 01: WizO_Shadow (1977) JUL 02: SauroGrenom (1978) JUL 03: Highfire (1985) JUL 06: Pittbull (1976) JUL 09: TheMagister (1977) JUL 11: TaggIIV (1990) JUL 11: Hawkeye_60(1987) JUL 17: KerlanRayne (1978) JUL 17: T'Var (1979) JUL 22: Mal-2 (1977) JUL 28: The Core Coliseum (2003) AUG 01: Sindorin (1984) AUG 06: Sunwolf (19??) AUG 11: lonewolf (1982) AUG 13: bgt (1988) AUG 21: Snommelp (1985) AUG 24: Altaris13 (1978) SEP 7: Zelck (1987) SEP 20: MindWandererB (1977) OCT 07: Magagumo (1983) OCT 09: Wayreth (1978) OCT 11: DTFarStar (1984) OCT 12: Aramil Dunskar (1988) OCT 12: Delusional Illusion (1985) OCT 15: DSugui (1979) OCT 26: Kaigan (1986) NOV 10: Kedi (1990) NOV 14: Macbrea (1969) NOV 24: Vecnoran (1986) DEC 01: Stormwind (1974) DEC 21: Milov (1990) DEC 22: Begferdeth (1979) DEC 25: Huan (1985) DEC 25: SoulLord (1973) DEC 31: c00lz3 (1985) |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 05:04 PM | ... |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 05:49 PM | Though today`s combatants are completely unknown the proprieters have raised the entrance fee to sponsor ‘a new attraction’ as it had been made known, much to the dismay of the spectators. However, no one complained after entering the ranks; gasps and applause can be heard throughout the dome as the audience is astonished by the latest addition of the arena: a stuffed Bonanza the Panza – his hand raised to the heavens – stands on a platform to inspire gladiators and spectators alike. A mechanism has been built into his body by some gnomes enabling him to make a couple of crude movements from his torso upward. Unnoticed by most, the two fighters take up position. At the western side lies one of the gnomes that failed to properly build the mechanism into Bonanza and just awakes only to wonder what in the Nine Hells he`s doing down here. On the other side one of the reclusive Woodelf people can be seen …and one of the most ugly ones at that. Clad in plenty of leather straps beginning at the forehead he bears mysterious symbols no one recognizes or cares to do so. A dangerous-looking wolf – still trying to catch his tail – makes it more than up for the pointy-ears’ lag of charisma. High up in “Bonanza Control” a few twists of the levers let the Panza drop the piece of cloth, signaling the beginning of the battle… Round 1: As quick as only an elf can be the strange fellow drinks a potion and instantly vanishes from the eyes of everyone – much to the relief of the offended audience. The wolf – making a mental note to pay more attention to his master than his tail – sniffs twice and trots in the direction where the familiar odor of old sweat and mushrooms comes from. On the other side Bruno just in time lowers the heavy crossbow he aimed at that persistent hawk circling overhead as he remembers him to be his familiar. Not really knowing what this is all about he tries to make the best of the situation: “Of course!!” he thought as a small light goes on somewhere in the back of his mind “This ‘eres ‘bout me talents as a damn entertainer. Aright!” he said and casts a spell which allows him to cast his voice from somewhere else (one of his favorites). A second light joining the first told him that the best place to perform would be the center of the place where everyone is able to see his show (after all, this could be the chance of his lifetime) so he begins to walk to the center pillar. Round 2: Laucien – hearing heavy boots approaching – decides to be careful and quaffs another potion. A shimmering field of force …would have been seen were it not for the invisibility. Bruno continues to walk on on his path towards fame and fortune. Smilling he greets the cheering audience with winks and kisses, bows to the imposing dwarf who stands motionless on a plattform (a talent scout perhaps?) and tipped on his toes which always made onlockers laugh (at least it worked with his 2 years old grand-nephew). Round 3: The Wood Elf trying to spot his enemy is distracted as he gruffly scorned his yawning wolf to sit down and be quiet. Cursing his companion he draws a scroll and actives its magic which made his legs a bit more nimble. Dreams of beautiful gnome ladies hysterically screaming his name as he signs autographs fly through Bruno`s mind. The fact that his bold vision includes a wolf`s yawn disturbed him a bit but quickly he decided that nothing would steal his mirth today. Round 4: Always the causious sort Laucien drops to one knee and prays to Obad-Hai to sent forth an empowered Storm of Vengeance followed by an Earthquake. He received a Guidance spell instead. A bit confused about that he decided to concentrate again on the gnome. Finally at the center pillar of the arena Bruno stretched his arms and made some complex gestures calling forth an image of himself but the size of a housecat. Pleased that his spell functioned correctly this time he leans at the pillar, draws an old pipe and continued to bathe in the chorus of cheers. Round 5: Laucien decides it`s time to actively search for the gnome which happened to be easier than anticipated. With a low canine growl Laucien moves to position himself. The wolf – who in the meantime used the idling to mark his district – heels his master. The audience – meanwhile fully convinced that the elf is long gone – feels cheated on their money and starts to get angry. All the while Bruno continues to smoke his pipe while his little counterpart runs around in circles singing gnomish workmen hymns. The hawk takes to the sky again. Round 6: The still invisible elf rubs his eyes as he tries to figure out what the stupid gnome is doing there and more importantly: who`s the real one. Laucien decides to make another prayer to his god bidding him to send an Elemental swarm to tear the crazy gnome apart. An eagle appears. Kicking with his boot at the ground (and thereby sending a good portion of sand over his innocently panting wolf) he sends the bird forward not to tear the gnome apart as planned but at least try to find out who`s the real one. Just to ensure safety Laucien takes a few steps to crouch behind a pillar. It is a glorious day! The sun shines, the pipe-weed tastes good, he is surrounded by an overenthusiastic audience, and an eagle attacks him… AN EAGLE ATTACKS!??? Just in time he brings up his arms to protect his face but still he got a scratch on the forearm as the bird flies past. “Ye durn’ feathered giant version of`a horsefly! Ain`t gonna ruin me day!” he bellowed, shaking his fist after him. Purely by chance the last sentence happened to be the activation sequence of the scroll he was holding in his left hand and is just crumbling to dust which in turn causes his concentration to be disrupted and his silent image fades away. Just as he began to curse this turn of luck an incoming distress signal from his hawk informs him of an approaching wolf… Round 7: Several planes away Obad-Hai is hard-pressed as he battles his most lethal enemy: Wee Jas, the goddess of death, who encouraged her necromancers to destroy large portions of a deep forest on one of his favorite worlds. Bleeding from several wounds already he swings his quarterstaff in defense of the woods and its population and his aim is true but just in that moment he got distracted by another plea from the same nerve-racking elf – this time requesting a miracle, two shamblers and a fire storm to strike down a simple gnome in some kind of arena battle. For a split second he thought about sending the spells – with a slight change in target – but then he motioned to one of his shamblers to go down and end this fight. The shambler – deeply involved in a philosophical argument with a Dire hedgehog about being removed from the Summons list – had more important things to attend to at the moment, so he in turn motioned for… Back in the arena Bruno is still throwing sputtering curses after the eagle (who mysteriously vanished in mid-flight) just as exactly the same bird attacks him from behind. The follow-up scream of gnomish anger made even the most stalwart visitor froze in place except for the beside-being people sitting at the northern ranks who were paying no attention to the fight since a winking Bonanza greeted in their direction. Having had enough talons for one day Bruno draws a scroll, activates the spell trigger and is immideately surrounded by a shimmering field of force. To further ensure safety he decides to lay low for a while. Round 8: Laucien ignored the circling hawk above him and draws another scroll. The (sand-covered) wolf meanwhile – thinking this to be another stop for a pee (and a good opportunity to further increase his district) – is busy with preventing his hind leg to take a nap. Obviously tabbaco wasn`t the only component in his pipe for just as he had managed to disentangle the eagle from the remains of his braided hair plants and weeds began to grow from the arena ground with alarming speed and start to snake around his legs. Unable to hold fast to his pipe AND remain standing he decided to defend his granduncle`s inheritance at all cost and soon found himself lying on the ground covered by vines and bushes. Deciding that the less-than-pleasant situation needs more brain than muscle he draws his most precious scroll (which he had securely stored in his pants) and speaks the command word. Round 9: With a distortion in the air the elf reappears for all to see – not that anyone bothered. Some of the more bright spectators even remembered him to be the second combatant that vanished so long ago but then they also remembered the disgusting part of this fellow. Laucien unimpressed by the booing drew his longbow, knocked an arrow and let loose… but the shaft goes wide. “Damn pickpocketin’ vines! Ain`t gonna ‘ave me pipe!”. Bruno tries to escape from the area and manages to crawl a few feet. Round 10: The audience, still wondering which one is the animal companion and which one the master begins to throw things like rocks, chairs, goblins,… after the bogeyman who just knocks another arrow to strike down the gnome but again he missed his small target. One of the vines tried to strangle Bruno but accidently reached into the still lighted pipe and burned a good portion of a leaf. Fighting against the odds Bruno still made a few feet for good. Round 11: Muttering a curse under his breath as the gnome takes cover Laucien adjusts his position and fires another arrow but the little one`s prone position caused by Laucien`s own spell worked to his advantage. The crowd begins to laugh about that having heard great tales of elven skill at archery …but then, they`ve also heard great tales about elven beauty. Finally Bruno managed to escape the grappling vines and takes a moment to gather his breath as an arrow flew past him. “Eh! Durn’ bush throwin’ sticks at me!”. Only then did he notice the warnings that his now hoarse hawk sent him for many turns about an extremly ugly man shooting arrows at him. “Ain´t no damn goblin dummy, ye son of an ooze master!”. With these words he decided to give his trusty one-shot a click to put the attacker in his place but the bolt didn´t manage to pass through the arena`s makeshift garden. Round 12: Not bothering about the croaky hawk overhead that gives away his position Laucien draws another scroll of entangle and further increases the arena`s flora. Bruno reaches for another bolt just as the ground below his back begins to green again and gives him another hug. Dragging himself forward he gains a few feet towards the nearest pillar. Round 13: Laucien`s shot from the bow strikes true and with a gurgling sound one of the spectators collapses as an arrow produdes from his throat. The audience – not knowing that the elf had aimed for the gnome – stops laughing. Bruno crawls on toward the safe looking pillar and hopes that not another field of vines breaks through the ground. Breathing hard he takes a little time-out behind the cover. Round 14: The wolf - long since taking a nap – awakes from his pleasant dream of his own pack as a hard elven boot kicked in his flank. His master has already moved a couple of steps and with one dowsy eye he witnessed another arrow flying wide. Having enough of this rain of arrows Bruno decides to pay him back in full. He grabs his crossbow and clumsily loads a bolt into it all the while muttering curses that would even make the proudest dwarf flush. Round 15: Still dowsy from his short nap the wolf trods with heavy legs towards his masters position. Sleep in his half-opened eyes about this unexciting event he began to wonder if he shouldn´t get a new job. Glad that he finally arrived beside Laucien his more than chirpy master is again up and on his feet to another place where he can shoot another arrow into… a pillar. “Durn’ fool elf`s been a pain in me ass for too long already” and with a well-aimed shot Laucien sprouted feathers. Round 16: “HA! Me One-shot`s been givin’ ye something da think about.” Laucien heard the dwarf shout from behind him but that`s an old trick by now. Laucien annoyed, pained and surprised at once by the shaft that visits his lower abdomen from the inside decides to take on a different tactic for the little prone gnome is far too difficult to hit. He retrieves a potion from his belt and drinks it in one big gulp. “Pah” Bruno said “I`ll kick yer pansy elven butt or I`m a bearded gnome!” he announced proudly but it occurred to him that something in this statement wasn`t quite right. He takes out a scroll from his one and only sock, rises from the ground and gallops to a large rock nearby. Round 17: The hawk – sitting on the back of his new friend, the wolf – watches the battle with waning interest as Laucien prayed for divine guidance and holding the quarterstaff in hand. The wolf knows what`s about to happen and both animals quickly made a pact to convince the surviving master to adopt the loser`s companion as his own. Bruno steps in the open, holds up his scroll while pointing with his other hand at the hated elf. A black ray springs from his finger and grazed the tumbling elf in his lower back. Bruno`s broad smile disappeared faster than it came up as his “Shield energy low” alarm went off. Round 18: Ever causious Laucien thinks that a potion of shield of faith won`t do him any harm. He nearly choked its contents out again as he saw the hawk sitting on the back of his wolf who finally managed to get up and moving. Making a mental note to have a talk with his companion after this he prepared to first finish the approaching gnome. Bruno now in range to cast another of his favorite spells follows through with the needed gestures and a stream of multicolored light springs forth from his outstreched hands to engulf elf and wolf alike. Laucien was never one to like another color other than green so he just averted his eyes and be done with it. Not so the wolf. A paradise full of colors entered his animal mind, made him glad beyond reason and filled him with a mirth that would`ve made him smile from one ear to the other if he could do so. Round 19: Asking himself how many naps a wolfs normally needs a day he takes faith in his ability to fight the gnome …but not before casting another spell from a scroll. Nethertheless, he makes a step forward. Ignoring the magical influx the elf´s quarterstaff takes Bruno decides to try his luck again with last rounds tactic but someone doesn`t seem to agree. Leaning back a bit and dodging the incoming swings he casts another Color spray but again, Laucien resists its magic. Round 20: Pure hatred can be seen in the Wood elfs squinting eyes as he makes a mighty swing at his foe and it connects solidly with his brow. “HA! Didn`t yer mother told ye not to hit a dwarf on da head?” Bruno shouts at his face but inwardly he thought about reworking this theory. Just wanting to get rid of this dirt digger he draws a scroll and casts the spell. A black ray springs out of his palm and hits the elf straight in his chest. Round 21: Feeling waves of weakness coarsing through his body he turned a full circle and responded with a backhand slash but perhaps he should`ve practised that move first: in a masterpiece of reflex he managed not to throw his quarterstaff onto the ranks but instead lets it land at his feet. Joining in with the spectators’ mirth about that ridiculous maneuver he instinctively drew a sealed mug and raised it towards the audience as it is with when someone shares a good laugh. Obviously he underestimated his opponoments abilities because the fragile elf tried to kick him in the face but when it comes to beer the would-be dwarf knows how to protect it. As a side effect of the drink he feels a bit better. Round 22: Laucien gracefully steps on one end of the quarterstaff and a splitsecond later he holds it again in his hands. With the same fluid motion he goes again for the brow of the gnome and again hits the nail on the head. A bit dowsed and out of beer he called for his hawk to assist him in this fight. The hawk took to the sky at once and made a daring dive attack against the elf but found himself nearly impaled on the end of a quarterstaff. Force of velocity catapulted him further forward and 10 pounds of hawk slammed into the surprised elf`s face. Inspired by the bold kamikaze attack of his familiar Bruno drew a scroll of true strike knowing the nimble elf is a hard one to hit. Round 23: A red-hot face is revealed as Laucien swats the battered hawk away and his fury pays of: His quarterstaff comes around and transforms the gnome`s fine-tuned nose into a red dot. Bruno saw the incoming attack and then there was nothing. A swift blackness began to rise but anyhow he managed to draw his scythe and make a poorly executed swing but his arcane insight paid of a gave the scythe a slight twist so that it exactly swung along Laucien`s throat. Round 24: The audience starts to bet on who will be the first to bleed to death but a lone hawk realizes [Note: Int 6 should be enough] that he can`t continue the friendship with this friendly wolf as long as the elf lives and so cheats 5000 spectators on their money as he retrieves a windpipe from the opened elf`s throat… |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 05:59 PM | „Friday night: Ajax versus Hurtz“ has been posted at every advertising column in the city but until Thursday not one ticket has been sold. At first, the arena proprieters thought about cancelling the fight but then, the youngest of them came up with a brilliant idea: a double match and so that`s how Bruno Wilikens and Eniolissaryn the Elder found themselves next to the original combatants. It had been a long week for Bruno. After killing Laucien and failing to make a deal with the Arena sponsors about a job as entertainer he thought about leaving the place and return to his pig farm but then he has been visited by a servant of Nerul, the God of Death. The fiend promised him power beyond reason. All Bruno had to do was slaying as many combatants as possible to supply Nerul with new souls. In return he would be awarded with new power for every death caused by him. And Bruno gladly agreed… While the anouncer read the deeds and victories of all combatants Hurtz nervously shifted from one foot to Eniolissaryn`s other as he saw his opponoment entering: a halforc barbarian from the frozen wastelands of the north – not an easy match – but the fact that the orc is called like a german washing powder did calm him somewhat. He took a sideward glance at the ancient elf who supported by his staff only seems to doze off at any moment while his owl apparently is trying to prevent this. Hurtz took confidence in the fact that it would take a while until the anouncer will be finished with his speech and he began to use the time to focus inward but then a red blast from the wand of meteor swarm Bruno got from the fiend silenced the anouncer and a good portion of the Bruno-Fanblock at the northern ranks – signaling the premature start of the battle… Round 1: Shocked by the brutality of the gnome Hurtz intuitively dove for cover behind the nearest obstacle, quaffing a potion and drawing his scimitar, all in one fluid motion. The Elder – roused by the sudden stop of someone hopping on his toes – decided to vanish from sight and search for a quiet place to rest. The owl – deprived of its perch – took to the sky. Ajax – who thought the rumors of the gnome`s talent in making a good show exaggerated – was still laughing about the incinerated anouncer and padded him on the shoulder to show his admiration. The evil look in the vicious gnome`s eyes appruptely cancelled his mirth and as the small old crock leveled the same wand at him Ajax exploded into motion, running as far away as possible. Bruno scolded himself as he remembered that the wand had only one charge left and he wanted to use it against the ancient elf but when he saw the carnage the blast has caused his black heart made a leap of joy. For good ol`time`s sake he casts his signature spell and as insticts overtook him he tiptoed – hawk on his shoulder – towards the center of the arena. Round 2: Hurtz risked a look from behind his rock and he saw the halforc running in his direction with wildly whirling hands and a look of terror on his face. His initial reaction was one of caution but he couldn`t supress a burst of laughter as the ancient owl nearly collided with the running orc. Fearing that he gave away his position he went back into cover. Eniolissaryn waited for a signal from his scouting owl – Bubo – and a signal came but one of shocked surprise accompanied by a lightning-fast and short image of an ugly half-orc face. He nearly got a heart attack by this and stumbled a few feet forward while open-mouthed grapping his chest. Before he faded away he pulled a scroll of “Prevent heart-attack” from his belt. As a side effect the spell warded him against evil aswell. Bubo meanwhile decided that it would be much saver high up the arenaand followed the “Someone kill Bruno!!” shouts from the angry ranks. The still panicked half-orc was running for his life. Risking a look over his shoulder he saw the gnome following him but the real shock came as he looked back towards his running direction as a sleepy and clumsily flying wrinkled ball of feathers appeared just a few inch before him. Thanks to his reflexes he managed to avoid a collision with the owl and fell face-down in a heap of horse droppings Dozen has left here. All of his fear instantly gone he even got more enraged as he heard a burst of laughter from a nearby rock where a brown-skinned human stood pointing a finger in his direction and holding his stomach with the other. The heat of anger rose from within him and with a red-hot face he grapped his greatsword and stomped in Hurtz`direction. Bruno smiled wickedly as a scorched “We love you, Bruno” flag was blown past him by the wind. The smell of burned flesh felt good in his nose a he took a deep breath and he tried to imagine how many power he would receive for his deceased fans but the wiggling index finger of the demon`s image that just appeared 50 feet before him told him that only killed gladiators count. He took a few steps forward and projected his voice from the center of the arena so that the demon would be able to understand him better. Knowing that dealing with demons can be tricky indeed he cast a protective spell, just to be sure. Round 3: Hurtz` laughter ended apruptly as the messed up orc stomped in his direction. Realizing that a single hit could cleave him in two he took on a defensive stance and prepared for the incoming swing. Bubo hovered in place and concentrated on the sound; a splitsecond later he detected the gnome by sight and instatly informed his master about that. The Elder acknowledged the report and dismissed his initial theory thinking the gnome to be near the center of the arena. While holding fast to the supporting quarterstaff he slowly raised his other hand in the direction his owl told him and a white magical circle arose from under Bruno whose eyes rolled up as he collapsed to the ground. Ajax got out of self-control! With a war-cry that has been heard throughout the whole city he charged the comedian but just in the moment he wanted to swing his greatsword at his neck Hurtz made a sidestep behind the rock – out of the orc`s reach. The hawk – having had an extended nap besides his best friend, the wolf – stayed unaffected by the spell. A bright one indeed for his kind he landed on his master`s back and picked at his nose, a gnome`s most sensitive spot. Flailing with his arms Bruno shot upward and tried to grap the attacker, succeeded, and was just about to turn the hawk`s neck as he heard hootings from above. Looking from the owl back to his hawk it occurred to him that he still might have a use for his familiar. Bruno stood up, weaved his hands and he and his hawk vanished from sight. Round 4: As Ajax rammed his greatsword into the rock Hurtz saw his chance and made a swing at the halforc but he forgot that he`s lefthanded and thus missed by far. Self-preservance let him take a step back. Eniolissaryn just realized that he forgot his googles at home relied on his still keen elven hearing and heard arcane formulaes spoken from right next to him and again from the place where the gnome vanished. Since the Elder is the most intelligent being in the world he chose the second spot as the target of his next spell. His Owl confirmed his decision as a wise one. A rain of golden stars decended upon the gnome and clearly outlined his form. The hawk managed to duck behind Bruno`s robe and averted his eyes but his master was not so lucky. Far away Ajax and Hurtz were playing cat and mouse around the rock with Ajax being the feline. With a step forward he brought his sword around but Hurtz` caution payed off as he deflected the mighty swing to the rock again. Bruno ignored the cheers from the ranks as the audience saw him stumbling around. He rubbed his eyes and tried to pinpoint the Elder`s location but just managed to hear his castings from anywhere west. He took a few steps forward and cast a spell on his hawk who immideatly took to the sky which caused the hawk to become visible. Just following his masters orders he charged the ancient elf. Remembering the unpleasant aquaintance with Laucien`s battlestaff he managed to avoid being impaled on the end of the wood and… and thus just made a light scratch on his forearm but the necromantic spell paid off as freezing cold surged through Eniolissaryn body and nearly made him collapse. Round 5: “Hurtz! Hurtz! Hurtz!” the western ranks shout in unison as the desert fighter executed another attack against the orcish brute. The strike could`ve hit the out-of-control orc in any critical spot Hurtz wanted his Scimitar to be but his extremly causcious fighting style prevented him from even hitting the big orc. Having nothing learning from this he again steps around the rock to gain (and suffer) from cover. Nearly losing consciousness the Elder realized the danger the small hawk is and concentrated on him and a stream of fire sprouted from his heavy half-outstreched arm and a UFO (unrecognizable flying object) drops to the ground. “I'll stuff your head in your head” Ajax anounced but it occurred to him that something wasn't quite right in this statement. Not caring about this he continued to hack at the cowardly would-by gladiator who can`t even manage to see an opportunity when there is one but again his blow was deflected by the scimitar. Bruno was concerned about the aprupt lack of hawk cries in his head. Not knowing what is going on he stopped at a rock and began to cast another spell. An image of himself appeared. Round 6: As Hurtz made another poorly executed swing he realized that his life-long training in dodging and deflecting blows didn`t include attacking at the same time which made him even more cautious which resulted in another step around the rock. Ignoring the burned heap of flesh at his feet Eniolissaryn once again focused on his prime enemy and easily detects the glittering gnome as well as his illusionary counterpart. Not knowing who`s the real one he decided to try a sleep spell on both. One dropped, one dissipated. Pleased by this the Elder slowly dragged himself forward. On the other side of the arena Ajax continues to rage on but just marked the rock again as his weapon is parried by Hurtz` shield. Bruno wished he would be in Neverwinter Nights because there he would receive damage from his now dead familiar which would wake him but sadly this is not the case and so he dreamed on while swift death – supported by a quarterstaff – approaches. Round 7: Hurtz is even further intimidated as he realized that the shouts from the crowd have changed to “Ajax! Ajax! Ajax!”, “Hu-urtz cowardice, sha la la la la” or “Hurtz to the chicken ranch, boak bok bok bok” with the audience making the appropriate gestures and with his following attack he wouldn`t even have hit the gate to the ranch. The Elder finally reached the gnome or where he last saw him: the glittering dust is gone as well as the gnome. Being brighter than the whole audience combined he knew that sleeping persons don`t move but just to be sure he asked his owl about that theory. Bubo closed in and… and confirmed this. Ajax – apparently spurned by the sudden shift in sympathy from the spectators – managed to make a powerful blow which Hurtz – as always – deflected but this time the blow was too strong to parry: the greatsword cleaved through Hurtz` defenses and shoulder aswell, severing his left arm. The main part of Hurtz` body dropped, too. Bruno - having no idea of his impending doom snorts on… Round 8: The round of twin-death: At the same time Ajax lifts his axe to sever another part of Hurtz the Elder completed his scorching ray and sent Bruno to his familiar. The eastern crowd`s “Kill Bruno!” shouts errupted in deafening cheers about the evil thing`s death while the western part of the audience starts to fight about the head of Hurtz Ajax had thrown up the ranks. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:08 PM | „I don`t want to sleep, grandpa! I want to go out and fight evil monsters like you did! I know I can do it!”. Sitting on the edge of the bed the old man took a puff from his pipe, inhaled deeply and stared – obviously amused – at the boy who seemed to be much to awake for this late hour and his young age. “A good warrior knows when it`s time to rest, little Telimas.” the veteran replied and underlined his statement with the release of his still-inhaled smoke. “And of course, your mother won`t be all too happy.” The defiant folding of Telesimas` arms told him that the boy wasn`t convinced yet. “I will not sleep before you don`t tell me a story! A story of great battles and glorious victories!”The old man stroked his chin while his eyes seemed to fix no specific spot. He released another cloud of smoke which caused the room to take on a mysterious gloom. With glinting eyes the old one finally began his story: “A long long time ago – I wasn`t much older than you now – I frequently visited an arena. Though there were many fights there was one which I`ll never foget. ….. It was a warm, starless summernight…” 80 years earlier… “THE NIGHT OF NIGHTS FINALLY HAS COME FOR TODAY…Today…today…THE ARENA PRESENTS YOU A FIGHT, NO, A BATTLE…A CAMPAIGN…Campaign…campaign THAT THE WORLD HASN`T SEEN YET AND I PROMISE YOU NO ONE…One…one WILL FORGET THIS EVENT BECAUSE AFTER MONTHS OF WAITING THE TWO MOST POWERFUL COMBATANTS WILL TEST THEIR PROWESS IN A DEATH MATCH! IN THE RED CORNER WITH A WEIGHT OF 240 POUNDS – UNBEATEN – INVULNERABLE – INDOMINABLE – THE CHAMPION OF THE ARENA… APPLAUSE FOR THE INVINCIBLE ALATHAR VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRCC CCCCCCEEE!” Roaring thunderstorms of cheers roll through the overcrowded ranks as Alathar takes up position. His gaze swept over the ranks where people as far as the eye can see nearly stand on each other just to get a better view. Transparents with Alathar-Slogans are waving in the wind and his name echoes through the whole complex. He drew in a breath and focussed again on the upcoming fight. “AND IN THE BLUE CORNER ONE OF THE MOST NOBLE COMBATANTS THE ARENA HAS EVER SEEN THE CHARISMATIC, THE HEARTBREAKING, THE JUSTICE-BRINGING – WE ALL LOVE HIM – PLEASE APPLAUSE FOR MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK-BANE …AND HIS RIDER SKYMOON MOONBOW.” the anouncer quickly added as he saw the sideward glance of “the rider”. An impressive mexican-wave rolled through the ranks as Moon-moon – sitting on his powerful steed – raised his gloved hand to greet the audience. He rode along the edge of the arena dome and was instantly bathed in a shower of flowers – most of them coming from the females but a few make-upped males dressed in Moon-moon tops also tried to show their admiration (and to one of them Moon-Moon blew a kiss). After Skymoon finished his round he took up position and tipped the hilt of his sword on his forehead as a signal of respect for Alathar Vierce. Then he again paid attention to the anouncer who all the time warmed up the audience “…JUST SECONDS AWAY FROM THE MOST MAGNIFICENT FIGHT! 5…4” the audience joining in the count-down “…3…GLORIOUS…2…1….LET THE FIGHT ….BEGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!!!!” Round 1: Alathar`s concentration paid of as he was the first to react. He dropped into a crouch and quickly quaffed the potion he held in his hand. With every gulp he grew a few inch in size and after the last drop fell into his mouth he was taller while crouching than seconds before in his normal pose. Supported by the synchronous “MONK-BANE! TCHATCHATCHA… MONK-BANE! TCHATCHATCHA…MONK-BANE!” cheers the spectators shout in perfect unison Skymoon dropped to one knee his hands raised to the heavens and an elven prayer on his lips. A moment later a blinding flash of celestial light outlined the form of a mighty warhorse with corded muscles and a cunning gleam in his eyes unmatched by animals of its kind …and some gladiators, too. Round 2: Alathar, the giant, got up to his full 9 feet height and drank another potion. He spent a second to scan his surroundings then tipped himself up into the air. Harmonic “OHHHHs!” and “AAAHHHHHs” swept from the ranks as Alathar passed by a certain stuffed dwarf standing on a plattform. In order to show his respect for the great warrior legend he bowed his head deep and was immideatly rewarded by a salute from Bonanza. Skymoon took the reins of his horse and mounted himself but obviously wasn`t in a hurry. As soon as he sat again on Monk-Bane he drew a potion and downed it in one fluid motion. The ebbing Oh’s and Ah’s instantly resumed as both rider and mount vanished from sight but thanks to the See invisibility screen around the perimeter of the ranks the spectators were still able to see an outlined form of them – a good investment indeed. Round 3: High up on the VIP ranks Rizzen Pharn nodded in agreement as Alathar came up with the idea that the best way to show his acknowledgement to Bonanza would be having a drink and propose a toast. While Alathar searched his pockets for something liquid Rizzen took another deep gulp from the smoking can he held in his hands: for nearly 2 months now he had tried to get some of this most precious of dwarven spirits and after weeks of gathering information he finally was able to find someone who sold a single can of this stuff – in exchange for Rizzen`s next winner`s price. After that he waited another 3 weeks to find the perfect place and time to drink it and this fight seemed fitting. Finally Alathar realized that the only drink he had left was a potion but what worthier a toast than this expensive magical liquid. The paladin – deeply touched by the devotion Alathar showed to Saint Bonanza – got a bad conscience and took a moment to send like-wise a prayer to Corellon Larethian and the elven god repayed him with his blessings. Round 4: The atmosphere in the arena was overwhelming! Thousands upon thousands sang battle songs in unison, cried and shouted in hope to be heard, bets were being made and so on. As one of the loudre spectators, Lothar stood near a magical floodlight and with a mouthfull of meat gave his 2 cents to every move down on the battlefield while swinging his roast lamb club as if it were a sunblade. It took him a while though to realize that the mentioned roast lamb wasn`t in his hand anymore… With rising concern Moon-moon saw Alathar taking again to the sky and scanning his surroundings in search for him. After having learned from his last fight against Jindle the paladin had discussed and sanctified the investment of a fly potion Monk-bane strongly suggested and now he had to agree that this decision was a wise one. Round 5: Though Alathar was absolutely concentrated he savoured the wind blowing through his hair. His eyes pressed together he wondered where an armored man and his large warhorse might have a possibility to hide. Skymoon wasn`t finished with his praising to Corellon and to emphasize his absolute dedication he drew his most valued item – his diary – and began to read it aloud so that the elven god and all the audience can be wittnesses to Moonbow`s life of purity. Round 6: The giant Alathar continued to shoot through the air but as he still saw no sign of his enemy he decided to slow down a bit to better view and hear his surroundings but was distracted by an outbreak somewhere in the VIP ranks where an angry orc who had suspicious similarities with Lothar tried to get through the crowd up the ranks. After having received a strengthing spell Moon-Moon continued to read his lifestory and for his once helping a gnome illusionist recapturing a pig farm he was rewarded with the toughness of a mountain …ok, a bear. Round 7: The chain warrior narrowed his eyes as he reached the spot where Skymoon should have started. He stopped rotating his exotic weapon and went inside himself and his disciplined mind was able to discern the crowd`s singing, the brawl from the VIP ranks, the shouts from a certain enraged orc and the reading of the same diary he and Ander had stolen and altered 3 months ago when they were drunk, and so he flew north. As Lothar cleaved his way upward through the ranks a bold noble pointed an ornate rapier at the orcs` chest – a bad idea indeed – and instantly found himself held high and flying through the air. Meanwhile Skymoon grew suspicious as he read aloud a tale where he fell in love with one of Bruno`s pigs and went on a quest to find magic capable of polymorphing his love into an elven form. Not only his anger but Skymoon too began to grow in size. Round 8: The situation on the VIP ranks didn`t calm as a flying human noble missile crashed into a can of dwarven spirit Rizzen was about to drink. Alathar raised his eyebrow from hearing the elf`s reading and he began to ask himself if he hadn`t had a wrong image of Skymoon all the time. He continued to close in and recognized an angry horse`s neigh in protest as Skymoon read the passage where he succeeded in finding a polymorph scroll but accidently transformed the pig into a horse which he later named Monk-bane. Moon-Moon threw away his diary and search for a scroll. After first checking the writings for similar alterations he activated the magic and sent a prayer to the heavens which could be heard throughout the whole arena that had silenced at once! The people had stopped making their bets or throwing popcorn at their frontman, the band stopped playing in mid-song and even Lothar held his fist which was destined to land on the poor sod`s nose he grabbed with his other hand. Every single pair of eyes was looking at one thing: the missing arm of Bonanza the Panza! Round 9: The noise resumed tenfold as a small three-armed figure clad in the prominent black on black robes of the Bonesnatcher`s Guild dropped from the plattform. … “The Bonesnatcher`s Guild?” Telimas asked. “Yes. The Bonesnatchers. They were dark fellows who were collecting corpses and the like for reasons no one wanted to find out. They even managed to form a legal guild but gossip tells about bribes involved here.” The little boy said nothing for a while as he sorted this out. Then he added with a sudden apparent insight “But why didn`t they dig out corpses from the graveyard then?”. The old one used his shirt to clean his googles as he explained “There are easier ways, that`s for sure, but you must know that a body part of Bonanza is for a Bonesnatcher the same as is adamantine to a dwarf and” …and while he refilled his pipe the grandfather continued his story … Alathar tried to intercept the Bonesnatcher but then he saw half the gladiators jump down into the arena in pursuit of the thief and so he concentrated again on the task ahead. The “In the name of Corellon! Stop, filthy thief!” led him the way. Skymoon started to chase the Bonesnatcher but then saw Alathar approaching, chain rotating threateningly. Monk-bane – never a friend of stuffed people – reminded its rider of the thread ahead and turned towards Alathar. With a war cry and a neigh the two friends charged the dangerous giant, and the following impact could be heard throughout the whole city! Round 10: The Harvester rubbed his hands too early for he had suspected Alathar anywhere on the other side of the arena but not standing on the same spot. Shaking his fist in protest he took the soul of the neighboring spectator instead. Alathar nearly collapsed from this mighty blow. The lance still deeply inbebbed in his breast he regretted to not have spent his money on healing potions. With clenched teeth he pushed himself back a few feet, freeing himself of the lance and swung his chain in a defensive pattern while trying to trip Skymoon from his mount. With an enraged cry that made everyone`s blood froze Alathar wrapped his chain around Skymoons torso and dragged the elf from his steed and the follow-up attack connected solidly with Moon-Moon`s head that because of the helm only stayed where it should be. The second chain managed to keep the horse at bay Not far away a completely other fight began… Initiative: Bonesnatchers: 10+2 = 12 The audience: 1+0 = 1 While Hurtz and Ajax – good friends after their fight – jumped down from the north ranks, Allister knocked an arrow into his bow and aimed for the Bonesnatcher. The arrow hit him directly in the back and led him drop the precious arm. Unfortunately another black-clad figure materialized out of thin air and continued the relay race. He didn`t get far though. A small dark and greasy figure – Karse – blocked his way and made a mighty swing at the infidel… The paladin had completely other things in mind. Shocked by the ferocity of the attack he shacked his head in defiance of the decending darkness and tried to get on his feet. Obviously someone didn`t agree [AoO: Spiked chain. The huge chain nearly shredded Moonbow`s arm to pieces but fortunately he was left-handed so he drew his longsword and made a swing to finish the hard-breathing foe off but he himself was severly bleeding from several wounds. Monk-bane realized the danger his master was in and so started to distract Alathar from Moon-Moon but the rotating chain kept it away although it bought Moon-Moon time to draw his magical shield. Round 11: The Bonesnatcher, a wizard obviously, considered the duergar in front of him as a minor threat and he wanted to initiate his favorite touch spell which would`ve transformed Karse into a pile of ashes but that would happen to involve touching this disgusting thing before him and so he just tried to tumble by. Karse`s axe cleaved him in two. The Bonesnatcher refusing to die anyhow threw the arm in a high arc before passing away. All this Alathar didn`t see. He focused on staying awake and alife. He let the chain rotate high above his head which increased the attacks he could make [Attack: Spiked chain but just in that moment he shrinked to normal size as did the chain`s reach and so the swing that would`ve teared Skymoon`s throat out went short. Skymoon saw his chance and tried to flank the warrior as Monk-bane maneuvered to the other side but the barbarian dodge, deflected, parried, resisted and kept away the hail of incoming attacks from both sides. Meanwhile two new Bonesnatchers passed the body part from one to the other and outmaneuvered half the not-so-bright gladiators who tried to stop them by persuing the arm and not the runners. Lothar was even that confused by this that he stayed in place and tried to remember his name. Fortunately he precauciously had it tattoed on his forearm and so the chase went on. Round 12: Now the whole VIP ranks where chasing the dozen or so Bonesnatchers except for Slefwee who was being persued by the local butcher and his keen chopper. Blood rained down from above where the main fight continued in all its ferocity. Alathar changed his grip on the chain and now let both ends rotate left and right of him in order to end this fight. Skymoon took a step to the right to avoid the first chain but stepped right into the path of the second end and took a viscious wound as the skikes wracked about his body. Skymoon tried to keep the human lawnmower at bay to prevent another hit (which would prove deadly, no doubt here). Blood clouded his sight but he executed another strike and his desperation made his swing strike true! Monk-bane was unable to move into a flanking position again and attacked with everything it had but was unable to pierce Alathar`s defenses. Round 13: One of the Bonesnatchers managed to open a portal before he was struck down by a scorching ray from Imitril and the arm-holding Bonesnatcher headed for the safe escape. Some of the spectators rubbed their eyes in disbelief as incredible Alathar still stood! Ignoring the pain in nearly every spot of his body he continued to attack with his whirling blades of doom but his defensive pattern is a double-edged thing. Skymoon returned the attack with elven-made steel which easily penetrated Alathar`s armor. Monk-bane did likewise but was thrown offguard as a black-clad figure connected with its flank. Round 14: The Bonesnatcher nearly made it to the portal with Bilo Darkleaf being the only person in range but the halfling – the arena cash register under his arm – just passed by the rogue and disappeared into the crowd. Just as the dark figure reached the portal a barbaric human with a familiar symbol tattoed on his forehead appeared out of nowhere to stand in the thiefs way. Alathar realized he has to change his tactic or be slain. He adjusted the grip on his chain and aimed for Skymoon`s feet and succeeded in pulling Skymoon from his feet, leaving him vulnerable in mid-air. The spiked chain wrapped itself around Skymoon`s head and feet alike and with a mighty pull Alathar divided the paladin into three pieces. Epilogue: “…the human who appeared beheaded the Bonesnatcher, raised the arm of holy Bonanza high in the air. Every pair of eyes was looking at him as he anounced “This will happen to all of you who try to desecrate the remains of the greatest hero my tribe`s ever seen.” And so the legendary Iron the Panza made his first appearance in the arena, no one knowing the great deeds he is going to accomplish.” – “Wow, grandpa! That was a great story!!! But there`s one thing I didn`t twig. Why did the fight on the ranks start in the first place?”. The old man took another puff from his now empty pipe, rubbed his chin and shrugged his shoulder. “Anyway, you promised to sleep and a good warrior holds true to his word.” With these words, he rose and left the room. Tiredness finally won over the boy and pleasant dreams entered his mind as Telimas Vierce decended into sleep… ... ... ... 80 years and 2 minutes ago… Eniolissaryn was roused by clapping hands and realized he still sat on the same spot as a day ago when he dozed off on his way from the doctor to his fight. Appearantly an important battle must be in progress for he was surrounded by the thousands. The next thing he recognized was that his stomach growled louder than the audience combined so he checked his surroundings for food and finally found it in form of a tasty looking lamb piece an orc – a relative of Lothar, no doubt – was holding up 5 ranks before him. With a snap of his fingers he teleported the mead club into his hand. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:13 PM | Alathar bathed in the cheers the crowd threw at him as he walked the perimeter of the arena, holding his chain high. A chorus of ear-deafening “A-LA-THAR! A-LA-THAR! A-LA-THAR!” shouted by thousands in perfect unison echoed through the dome and the city beyond. Not everyone was in his mirth though for many of the spectators shed a tear over the dead body of Skymoon Moonbow lying in a pool of his own blood down in the arena. Monk-bane nudged his head against his fallen friend and master and the immense sadness was clearly visible in his round eyes. Once again Alathar Vierce has proven that he is really “The Invincible”. But then something strange happened: Just as Alathar finished his lap of honor the cheers changed to astonishment as a pillar of divine light decended through the roof and shone on Moon-Moon`s corpse. At first, nothing happened but then, after the last spectator stopped asking his neighbor what`s going on down there, the effects of the light could be clearly seen: the body healed! Bones bent in unnatural angles reverted to their true form, deep gashs closed and didn`t even leave scars behind, and Skymoon`s skin took on a more healthy color again… The two Bonesnatcher`s who decided that the body of Skymoon is a much easier target than Bonanza`s arm in Iron the Panza`s possession quickly scuttled out of range as the mighty paladin rose from the ground. His closed wounds weren`t the only change: Skymoon Moonbow was clad in a new golden armor that covered him from head to toe and perfectly fitted his elven frame. In his left hand he held an equally impressive shield with Corellon Larethian`s symbol displayed on the frontside; his new ornamental Lance was slightly winded and gave off a faint golden radiance. Monk-bane didn`t get away unchanged either: His perfectly clean fur was the whitest white one can imagine and his body seemed even more corded with muscles. Two great wings sprouted from his flanks and rose and fall in unregular patterns. A divine voice boomed through the dome, no doubt directed at Skymoon: “YOU ARE WORTHY” The fight was on again… Or was it? It seemed that time itself had stopped: the lions stopped to roar, the rogue stopped pickpocketing the merchant, Lothar – just lifting a dirty bonesnatcher with one hand – stopped pounding him, and even Eniolissaryn stopped doing nothing. Alathar and Skymoon circled each other. “Never gettin’ enough, eh Moon?” the barbarian said “But this is my victory and ye`re not gonna get a second chance – not today, at least.” He took another few steps, never taking the eyes from Skymoon who hasn`t said a word yet. “I will leave tonight, back to my tribe. But I will come back and that`s when our weapons cross again.” And that was the moment Great Alathar walked out of the gates… leaving the arena behind. What now? The arena was filled with excitement that could easily culminate into a full-out riot. Every pair of eyes was directed at the paladin in the center of the dome. Then a piercing shriek was heard. Most of the spectators covered their ears and a few moments later they saw the source of this annoying sound: a gigantic bat came in sight as it flew through the summer-opened arena roof. On its back sat a human dressed in green forest robes and holding up high a warped staff. As the two landed Jindl spoke to the audience “I am back from my trip to Grandfather Tree in the High Forest. And I have brought a new companion. Let me introduce Nox the Dire bat.” Then Jindl turned to Moon-moon. “I see you also have a new companion. And I see there is no opponoment for you to fight. If I may take up this honor we could both introduce our new allies to the audience.” With a nod, Skymoon accepted. The excitement reached new heights as both combatants took up positions. The seconds seemed like minutes as both gladiators fixed each other, waiting for the starting signal. Then Nox made another screech… Round 1: Skymoon heard the starting signal and quickly drank a potion which caused the See-invisibility-screen to automatically activate itself around the arena`s perimeter. As fast as one can be when clad in steel from head to toe he walked a few feet. “Hey, this was just Nox and not the signal” Jindl protested as he stopped padding the bat but then it occurred to him that nobody cared about that and when he looked to where Skymoon last stood he wondered how many seconds had passed since the battle began. He gave his luck a try and commanded the ground on the other side to take hold on the paladin. Round 2: Just as he thought himself clever to drink the invisibility potion roots and vines broke through the ground and wound themselves around Skymoon`s legs, hampering his already slow movement even further. Still thinking intelligence not to be his worsest ability he drank a potion the merchant who sold it told him that this will help him to blanket out odors his body produces. Jindl thought he heard something as Skymoon nearly choked on the liquid later known as Eau de toilette and when thinking about loos medieval people may have a different imagination of its fragrance. Knowing he won`t get a second chance he quickly adjusted his position and faery fired the spot where he heard the paladin. Round 3: The shock as unnatural flames surround him stopped his choking but concerned Moon-moon even more. He unrolled the parchment he held in his hands and tried to read it but couldn`t decipher anything. He dragged himself a few feet forward meanwhile holding the scroll just inches in front of his eyes and the puzzling face expression told the spectators that the paladin had his problems with the scroll. Because only the Elder realized that Skymoon held the scroll the wrong way round the magical parchment was dropped to the floor. Jindl shook his head and thought that this could be a good opportunity to show his friend how to activate a scroll: Infrori frostaris cedar and as the scroll turned to ice a hailstorm appeared over Moon-moon. Round 4: Moon-moon couldn`t see his hands in front of his eyes and so he just tried to get out of the arena´s newest makeshift garden and its bad weather inside. Unfortunately that proved more difficult than it was said for he could just stumble step by step forward but eventually he made it out. Nearly. Jindl began to chant the same incantation again to enhance the storms duration for another round. Round 5: Skymoon groped his way until he came to one of the dome-supporting massive pillars where he decided to heal some of his wounds. Jindl couldn`t see the outlined form anymore though he knew that he crouched behind the pillar and so he continued to sing, fearing the mighty steed he saw at the beginning of the battle before Monk-bane was sent away . Round 6: Things didn`t look all too good for Skymoon and he had no idea how long the storm was going to last or where it ended. Realizing that he could never focus his concentration within this hailstorm he drew his longsword and prepared for a dead run next round. But the storm didn`t last that long. Exhausted from his continuous singing he took a moments breath and checked the pillar for the paladin, unsure if he is still alive but a sneeze from the pillar shattered his dreams. He held his arms up high and called to the planes to send him allies. Round 7: All this happened in a matter of seconds! Most of the spectators were frozen in place as their excitement about this entertaining battle let them stare open-mouthed at the fight. Lothar for example still stood with his arm raised but as he found again his composure he realized that there wasn`t a bonesnatcher in his grip anymore. He grapped the neighboring kobold druid instead. Making a mental note to thank the merchant for the potion Moonbow finally began to call for Monk-bane. Suddently three hippogriphs appeared in mid-air. They circled the pillar their master pointed to but to the astonishment of everyone didn`t attack the battered paladin down below*. Round 8: Not far away at the entrance gates Hadel, Dorren and Paul tried to convince the bullheaded halforc doorstop security that they are actually gladiators but Ajax – in his new job - didn`t let himself be fooled so easily and told them to go away. Inside the arena Skymoon kneeling on the ground finished his summons and mighty Monk-bane appeared. A new wave of cheers arose through the ranks and with grim determination Moon-moon anounced to himself only sharp-eared Jindl could hear: Now it is MY turn. He jumped up and instantly sat on his transformed steed. In the same fluid motion he raised one hand skyward and prayed for divine guidance. That disturbed Jindl. He looked at the roof and a thought crossed his mind. Thinking himself lucky that it is summer, when the dome is open, he called to the heaven. Dark clouds appeared and eclipsed the sky accompanied by a much-too-close thunder. Panic and fear could be seen on the faces of the audience as they watched the spectacle in the sky. People tumbled over each other as they tried to escape nature`s wrath. Round 9: High on the VIP ranks sat the most unsuccessful manager in the arena history. Irlina`s first mistake was failing to strike a ressurection insurance with the local temples in order to save money and that is why she had lost more gladiators than Rito has been defeated. Next to her sat Markus Letiv – the SECOND, mind you – an once successful lawyer until he held court over Bilo being charged for a couple crimes – but the moment he judged him guilty his house burned down, his wife and children disappeared and he found himself in the dungeons of the arena. The only person left to manage him was Irlina – just having lost the fifth of the Tanya quintett. And so it came that Markus sat next to her, shoulders sacked down and his head resting on his hands, as he watched Skymoon`s gold and platinum covered manager (just called The Snark) applaude as his paladin received another benefit from the heavens. Jindl watched Moon-moon take to the sky. Ever creative Jindl came up with another idea. He once again began to reach out to another plane but this time he chose the elemental plane of air to send him some allies. Round 10: Finally! The arena. The place where this treacherous owl Bubo is supposed to be. Faldion dismounted and led his old mare Noname towards the entrance where a big halforc doorstop was trying to chase away three fans who were desperately trying to get in. They missed Skymoon`s upward draft while continuing to sing and pray to Corellon, this time using a scroll. He was reliefed as the scroll was clearly decipherable and the magic effects began to affect him and his mount. Jindl`s calling paid off and two small air elementals appeared next to him. He quickly said something in a tongue no one recognized and handed them over the two tanglefoot bags. The elementals immideately rose in the air. The paladin meanwhile came dangerously close and he thought it a good idea to like-wise take to the sky. His lips started to extend into a peak and feathers sprouted from all over his body. Soon after that an eagle-shaped Jindl was up in the air. Seeing his two mighty foes just flying past a pillar in his direction he decided putting a bit of a distance between him and them wouldn`t be a bad idea but he wasn`t sure if he had enough time so he sent Nox to intercept the paladin. The bat didn`t know which target its master meant but at least flew off in the direction he pointed where a lone pegasus closed in. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:21 PM | Dear diary, after weeks of searching I, Kelek of the Purge, was finally able to locate a fitting new house. I planned the relocation a few days ago, put a bit of money to the side for the moving costs, I have hired a couple of dwarves to help me and tomorrow I will move into my new home in Swordstreet. You should`ve seen this new house! Two story-building, combination of sleet and wood build by a halfelf architect with an exaggerated sense for beauty and the vincinity looks quiet enough with very few traffic so I can continue my necromantic studies with no disruption. Sigh, I can`t wait it out. 1st Mirtul 1364 DR My first day in my new house!! And I have to say I like it. There`s one thing though that annoys me a bit: my new neighbor is Iron the Panza. I know him from the arena but never talked with him – not that I had missed something. This guy is one of the louder sort and I had difficulties to concentrate on my work. Not even the pillow I bound around my head was to any avail. I retreated to the back room and tried a new version of my expeditious retreat spell and it worked fine …until Iron went to his garden – a mess, I tell you – and played cat and mouse with his horse while singing stupid battle songs all night long. I really hope that this was an exception today. 2nd Mirtul 1364 DR Hrmpf. Woke up at 6 AM in the morning when Iron began with his prayers to his god. Obviously that ritual requires some kind of destruction because he battered on some casks and barrels until they were nothing more than a few splinters all the while sitting on his horse and singing battle songs I never heard before. I covered under my pillow but that didn’t help much so I shouted out the window as loud as I could but I doubt he heard even that. 3rd Mirtul 1364 DR Another horror day! Asides from being waked up at 6 AM again he now has a new attraction: three small monstrous spiders he brought from the market today are running loose in his garden!! I HATE spiders! I hope they know where Iron`s district ends! I continued to work on my new arrows: they had a opening where one can pour in poison or any other substance which will be injected once the arrow hits. When he began to sing* again I retreated to my cellar for the rest of the day. 4th Mirtul 1364 DR I can`t believe it!! Just as I was sunbathing in my garden the spiders came through a new hole in my fence (which was obviously caused by Iron`s morningly destruction ritual; at least it wasn`t there yesterday!!) and charged me!! My heart nearly stopped as the disgusting creatures hustled in my direction! I jumped up and ran away from them as far as possible. Later that day Iron came back to his garden but wasn`t worried about his spiders running around in my garden! 5th Mirtul 1364 DR Enough is enough!! When I came into my garden it was covered over and over with spider webs!! On top of that just as I wanted to continue my work on the arrows one of the spiders came close to the fence and cast a web directly at me. I threw stones at the monster to turn it away but the strands of web made it difficult. On top of that Iron came out of his house and when he saw the scene he waded through the repaired section of the fence. One might think came to retrieve his hairy pet but no!! He got angry about me throwing stones at his spiders and to emphasize this he gave me a hard knock with his fist on my shoulder. Ouch!! Man that has hurt! I`m still sitting here in my living room and holding my aching shoulder. I HATE him! He will pay for that. 6th Mirtul 1364 DR Ha-ha!! Today I began with my retribution: I filled his garden with smoke. That made him very angry and he came stomping out of his house. He shouted something in his native tongue and began searching me but that proved difficult when one cannot see the hand before his eyes. I couldn`t hold my laughter back. He kicked hard against a barrel which shattered into thousand splinters then returned to his house again. One point for me. 7th Mirtul 1364 DR Yesterday Iron`s chieftain Mohera came over and the two of them sang Panza battle songs all night long. I went over to Gage and slept in his guest room. I definitely needed this quiet night! 8th Mirtul 1364 DR Today I cleaned up my garden from this spider webs. Took me a whole day of hard work!! But just as I was finished one of the spiders came through the now half destroyed fence (Iron will pay for that!!) and attacked me!! It hacked its manibles into my boot and even drew blood! Even worse Iron came out again and watched me kicking at his beloved spider. He walked right through a still intact section of the fence and tried to hit me again but his boot got stuck in the fence and he fell to the ground facedown into the mud. I took this as a good sign and decided to go back inside. 9th Mirtul 1364 DR I filled his garden again with smoke but as I did this one of the spiders quickly hurried towards my position but I was prepared for that. Iron ran cursing out of his house, hands whirling wildly to get the smoke out of his garden and destroyed some of my ceramic dwarves. Though I was very upset about this I thought it wiser to stay inside. 10th Mirtul 1364 DR When I went into my garden this morning it was a mess. Nothing stood where it had once been and most of my things were broken and lay scattered across the garden. Anger swelled up inside me. I decided to put an end to this and retrieved my bow; after all this is a good chance to test my new arrows. I crouched behind my window and watched Iron trying to wave the smoke out of his garden. I put in one of my new arrows and fired! and the arrow mystriously scratched his leg. Unfortunately I must say because he`s just stomping towards my door... Epilogue The following evening Iron the Panza sat in front of the hearth and just flipped the last page of the book he read. He got finally rid of that annoying neighbor. “Some people don`t know how to behave” he said aloud and with this thought and a yawn he tossed Kelek`s diary into the flames and went to bed. Iron the Panza is declared the rightful owner of the garden and founds 4000 Gold pieces in Kelek`s house. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:31 PM | The Fugue plane – a neverending hazy realm in the middle of nowhere in the complex system of the cosmology. A transluctent figure dressed in black leather rises from the ground and surveys his surroundings: vision is seriously impaired to a few hundred feet with no features at all except for endless wastes with a few stalagtites dotting the landscape. Kelek took a moments thought. The last thing he remembered was Iron the Panza kicking in his door and... and with sudden dreadful realization the truth descended upon him like a ton of ectogoo. The Fugue plane is the place where the souls of the deceased wait for their further journey to the plane of their god, a stepping stone to the afterlife; the purgatory. For most souls this isn`t all too bad. The prospect of spending eternity with one`s chosen deity is a good one and fills them with joy and mirth. For a few most unfortunate souls though this place can be more painful and torturing than the Abyss itself. The ones who didn`t worship a god in life melt after a couple of days with the “Wall of the Faithless” that surrounds the Fugue plane and holds them captured until the end of time with no means of freeing them ever. Kelek didn`t have a patron deity. Kelek knew he was in dire trouble but thanks to his necromantic studies (which also involed the knowledge and interaction between the various planes of existance) he knew that there are possibilities – a very few – to leave the Fugue plane. He tried to recall the lecture held by his mentor, Professor Vandaeris Dre`Dandrahl, about souls and the afterlife and remembered that this place wasn`t without its own inhabitants: some powerful entities call this place home, and devils frequently visit the Fugue plane in order to bargain with souls for their freedom – at a price of course. Perhaps there are other possibilities aswell but he had to take his fortune with these two options. He sat down and memorized a few divinations that would enable him to better locate these beings. Kelek was deeply concentrated in learning his spells as right in front of him another soul materialized, and one that he knew: the kobold druid. Obviously he didn`t fare all too well in the arena because his head hovered a few inches above his torn body, arms and legs were likewise seperatly floating and griffon talon wounds decorated his torso over and over. His ugly giant bat hovered behind him without flapping its wings. “Well met” Kelek said mirthlessly, being disappointed that it wasn`t a powerful good-aligned arena wizard “Budpunch or something stupid, I suppose” – “Yiekes! Wazza up wid Buddmunio? No griffiz!! No griffiz!!” Kelek rolled his eyes “Calm down, you fool. You are dead and this is the afterlife.” – “Wazza yusses mean wid dead? Buddmunio nevers returns to arena?” – “Certainly not.” A thought then struck Kelek. Why bargaining one`s own soul to a devil when it could be the kobold`s? Perhaps the kobold could be of any use after all. “But then, I may have found a way to return to the Material Plane. Are you with me?” And a wide gaptoothed smile crossed Kelek`s face as the kobold gladly agreed. Half a day later Kelek and Buttmunch succeeded in finding such an entity and another day after that they reached its realm. The floor was littered with bones of all sorts – some of them having bigger diggits than the whole of Buttmunch (if one can say whole at all). Then they came upon a mysterious place, some kind of ruined temple. Causiously they entered. Broken pillars stood in all directions while only parts of the outer walls still stood. The ceiling had more holes than not and an eerie light shone through them with no apparent source. The most disturbing thing were the many stonestairs though. Some of the mighty stairs led into black nothingness or multicolored vortices in every hue while others ended against a wall high up. Reality itself seemed blurred within here. So special was this place that the two souls didn`t spot the figure at the end of the temple until now. There, on a raised dais stood a person clad in black tattered robes, a viscious looking scythe in hand, his face covered by a chain curtain and antlers produting from his head. It looked exactly like the Harvester except that the figure was about 15 feet tall. A voice sounded in the gladiator`s heads, whispering and booming at once, eerie and powerful, with a many layered echo fading after every spoken syllable “Whhhhhat isssss itttt yououou waaaaant frommmm meeeee” Kelek knew he would`ve been mice-dead just by hearing this voice if he would`ve been alive. With a dried mouth he licked his lipps while he tried to find the proper words “Errr... great Harvester, it`s me, Kelek from the arena.” – “And misses, greats Buddmunio the...” – “SHUT...UP....YOU PITIFUL CREATURE!” Kelek shouted at Buttmunch, then continued “Well, what is this place?” A short moment passed before the voice sounded again in his head “Thissss issss my realmmmm. The ssssstairsssss lead to evvvvery plannnne of exxxxisssstance. I watchchchch over thhhhemmmm.” – “Well, may you allow us to pass to the Prime material plane, where we came from?” – “Nnnnoooo.” The Harvester said and then just stood motionless on the dais. “Errr, Mr. Harvester, you know me! It`s me, Kelek. Well, we never ate together – not that I`ve ever seen you eat someth...” – “Thhhe onnnneeee youuuu knowwww issss oneeee of myyyy avvvvatarrrrs ssssennt to whatttt seemmmms like a majorrrr ccccenter of ressssurection. Sssssadly a sssstrange local effffect there prevvvents me frommm channellllling much energy intooo-it.” – “Yes, the Pitlords. No one knows who they are nor has anyone ever seen one of them though rumors say that Bilo holds connections to them.” That statement seemed to have catched the Harvesters attention, at least he again focused on the rogue. A thought crossed Kelek`s mind “May I propose a bargain then? Send me back to the Realm of the living and I promise you I'll find out more about that.” The otherworldy figure seemed to think about his words and after a while he said “Your requesssst issss grannnnted.” All the while Buttmunch was busy playing with his seperated digits which were floating an inch away from the main hand but as Kelek started to ascend a stair with a metallic silver vortex at the end where the Harvester pointed at he cursed himself for not having paid attention. “Yousses wait!! Buddmunio go out, too!!” the kobold screeched and started to jump up the stair aswell. “NO!” the Harvesters voice boomed in Buddmunchs head and the power of it threw him nearly 200ft across the temple until he was stopped by a crumbling wall. And while he decended to the ground the now again whispering voice said “My massssster will nevvvver agreeee to letttt boththth of you leavvve. Only onnnnne may passssss.” – “That should be me! I am well versed in the magical studies necessary to understand the effects causing the anomaly.” – “Buddmunio many spies haive! Many animalz helping find out!” – “On top of that I am a rogue and a master of stealth. It is my profession to go where others cannot.” – “GRAAAAK! Stupidz humin deads befors did one steps!” Round 1: It occurred to Kelek that the first word of the kobold`s last sentence carried a magical effect and he took this as a sign of impeding danger. Intuitively his hand went to his belt and he was relived as he felt the potion having accompanied him to the Fugue plane. He downed it in one fluid motion and ran up the stairs to reach the portal before the kobold did. Buttmunch saw him running upstairs but the hazy enviroment made it difficult for him to locate the rogue. He jumped on the back while his Dire bat passed by and both flew forward. Round 2: Red Baron nearly collided with a crumbled pillar with its rider all the while screeching something in the draconic tongue. In the last second the Dire bat sensed the obstacle and made a sharp evasive maneuver which dismounted Buttmunch. Thanks to his severed limbs he could grab the reins again and was dragged behind the dire bat, bumping up and down in mid-air. His spell though was lost in the process aswell as Kelek who just disappeared into the metallic-silver vortex – his laughter echoing through the temple. Round 3: Buttmunch pulled himself forward inch by inch while the Dire bat flew at full speed through the ancient temple ruins. Finally he managed to sit in the saddle again and cried out in fury about his bad luck. His small kobold arms waved in front of his body and gathered the necessary magical energy to summon balls of fire. Kelek nearly cried out in shock as he emerged from another portal within the temple. He looked to the giant Harvester but didn`t get any clues about that for the figure just stood motionless on the raised dais. He quickly figured out what to do as he remembered the Harvester`s words about only one soul being allowed to leave. Kelek concentrated on the druid and saw him approaching on the back of his bat, severed digits lighted by fire and a look of hatred upon his face. Having already faced the kobold once in the Arena he knew the summoner`s tactic all too well and used a scroll that protected him against hungry animals while crouching behind a pile of skulls. Round 4: As Buttmunch reached the metallic-silver portal and saw no sign of Kelek he was nearly convinced that he escaped but then the Harvester would already be upon him and drag him to wherever that might be where his master resided. So he glided around hoping to spot the cowardly thief. Kelek saw the flying druid approaching and held his breath. His sweaty hands fingered for an arrow and a small vial with a green liquid in it and two words written on it in undercommon: Srii-Tel'Quessir – or “Drow” translated in chondathan. The dark human dipped the arrowtip into the vial which didn`t help to stop his sweating. Round 5: Kelek made a sigh of relief as the kobold turned away in another direction but dealing with poison is a risky matter indeed. He considered joining the assassin`s guild after this fight but then revulsion came over him as he thought about the evil deeds an assassin has to do and quickly made an oath that he`ll NEVER joins the vile murderers ranks. Round 6: The Dire bat gracefully glided through the ancient temple hall, like an alpine skier passing the pillars left and right without making much noise while Buttmunch tried to find the rogue but couldn`t find any sign of him. Kelek retrieved another potion – knowing it wouldn`t do him any good if he doesn`t beat the druid – and a magical shield surrounded him, then fading into invisibility. Round 7: As much as Buttmunch enjoyed the flight through this nostalgic setting he didn`t plan to spend the rest of eternity with the Harvester and so focused more intesively on Kelek – with no success. Just as he was about to give up the hope of Kelek being still on this Plane he heard spellcasting from 9 o’clock . Round 8: Buttmunch pulled the reins as hard as he could and nearly strangled his companion in the process. The Red Baron better decided to execute the requested sharp turn before it`s been killed by the small one and shot in the direction of a black and red portal. Kelek saw the duo approach with frightening pace and realized that they must`ve heard his spellcasting. He drew a scroll and casted another spell this one getting the attention of Buttmunch for sure but adjusted his position slightly so that the now close druid doesn`t spot him. Round 9: The kobold couldn`t hold his dancing digits still so wound up was he in finding the still hidden sneak and made another sharp turn to where he just heard another spellcasting. Kelek decided that it was getting too hot here and fired a poisoned arrow. Kelek wasn`t the best archer and under normal circumstances he wouldn`t hit a barn door but his last spell gave him an insight into the near future: he saw the path the kobold was taking, executing a sharp turn again while waving his hands... then his vision blurred and he found himself back in the present. Taking advantage of his short insight he fired the arrow at a spot he knew the kobold will pass in a matter of seconds and hit him in one of his seperately floating limbs. He quickly crouched again behind the pile of skulls mysteriously the kobold didn`t turn around in time to see him shooting the arrow. Round 10: Buttmunch`s head nearly exploded by anger about the evasive thief. He waved his arms and screeched every curse he knew in the draconic tongue but then his bat seemed to notice something. He gave control over to it the bat made another sharp turn and flew over to a pile of skulls where Buttmunch has been sure he checked that spot seconds ago with no one being there. Just as Red Baron rounded the pile, five crouching thiefs appeared in front of Buttmunch and Red Baron flew right through one of them. Buttmunch meanwhile raised and lowered his hands, apparently initiating a ritual. Kelek was equally surprised that the Dire bat found him for he was perfectly sure the potion would help him. He also realized that the bat would find him again. Not wasting a second thought on this he took a step back and fired his second coated arrow at the ridiculous creature trying to interrupt the unknown spell the kobold was about to cas. The arrow just glanced him though and did nothing to stop the kobold`s high-pitched screeching. Round 11: The most ridiculous gladiator finished his summons and a giant wolf appeared. The wolf instantly leapt at Kelek but hungry as it might have been he couldn`t touch the rogue. Seeing this and feeling the pain in his limb draining his strength away he drew a small bag with fresh red berries inside and pushed them with both hands in his big mouth. Red Baron decided to make another swing at one of the enemies. Another one dissipated. Kelek decided that a good withdrawal could save the day and retreated but not before filling the area with enough smoke to even confuse the bat which made a swing at him nethertheless – a futile one. Buttmunch tried to touch him with his small burning hands and extended them as far as he could and indeed, the fact that his arms have been torn out by Lothar and the griffons having made a tug-of-war with Buttmunch paid off as Kelek`s clothes catched fire. He hoped that this was the last time he got hit. Round 12: Buttmunch`s fear of losing the human again grew and he spurred his bat forward and it was much easier than he thought to detect the fleeing thief. He raised his tiny hand high and let a bolt of fire fly in Kelek`s direction that hit him directly in the back. The bat wasn`t able to attack again as was the Dire wolf that trotted behind them. Kelek realized he was in dire need of a good plan. His cunning mind worked hard to device an emergency plan and looking at the Harvester who was just sharpening his huge scythe encouraged him to think a bit faster. Then his instincts took over: he dashed up the one stair that led to the black-red vortex, Buttmunch following behind and closing in quickly. In the last second just as Buttmunch`s viscious grin nearly split his face in two Kelek threw himself on the ground and kobold and bat flew through the vortex. Round 13: After a short trip through the elemental plane of fire Buttmunch emerged from another vortex singed from head to toe, skin blackened so that it matched the Harvester`s robe and burned lumps of hairs standing in all directions. Red Baron managed to protect itself by having used the kobold rider as a cover against the flames. Nearly falling from the saddle Buttmunch absentmindly cast a healing spell which made him feel a little better. Red Baron took initiative and made an attack maneuver against Kelek but flew right through one of the illusions only. Too late the bat realized its error and found itself again 3 feet away from the black-red vortex. The Red Baron didn`t want to become a dead baron and made an untrained wingover turn which it executed really well. Unfortunately the kobold lost his grip on the reins and flew straight into the vortex again. Epilogue The Dire wolf realized that the human is no longer protected against his attacks and made a great leap. 600 pounds of fur and muscle exploded in mid-air a second before it would have teared Kelek to shreds. Covered with gore over and over Kelek first didn`t understand but then he looked to the Harvester who just lowered the gloved finger that had pointed at the wolf. “Ittttt-issss ovvvverrrrrrr” he said and Kelek didn`t need to be told twice. A second before he entered the silvery-metallic vortex that led back to the Prime Material Plane he heared the Harvester add “Fffforrrr the rrrrogue at leasssssst” while looking into the direction of Red Baron. The Dire bad obviously weighed odds and then with another wingover maneuver it turned around and flew through the red portal towards its master... Kelek made it back to the Prime Material Plane where he managed to rob a trade caravan on his way to the Arena which earned him a stash with 4000 Gold pieces. Buttmunch wasn't that fortunate in his choice for another plane... Sequel to Life of Kelek, Part 2: Far far away on another plane the Harvester sits on a broken throne of bone within the ruined temple on his misty realm. Infront of him amagical view screen showed a scene of the Prime Material Plane where his avatar appears. His avatar should be nearly invincible but something - some strange magical effect interferes and distorts the connection tohis avatar thus weakening him greatly. The avatar already failed three times. But then he remembered something from his dialogue with a certain necromantic assassin... "Thattttt Kellllek sssssaid ssssomething aboutttt these arena prrrroprrrriotorsssss and thatttt halflinnnnng hasssss connectionssss to themmmmm." The 15ft tall figure rose from the throne, scythe in hand, and pointed to a dragon zombie. "Go. Helllllp my avvvvatarrrr in slayinnnng the halfllllinnnng Bilo Darrrrkleaffff so thatttt hissss soul enterssss my realmmmm. Thatttt wayyyy I mayyyy getttt the informationnnnn." With no moments thought the giant undead dragon flew clumsily through the opened portal. Seconds later it appeared on the viewscreen ...next to the Harvesters avatar in the far away arena... Mean while in the arena the assasin, Kelek, was having a tough time of things Gage was proving to be a most difficult opponent. 'And I thought sorcerers were supposed to be weak..'. The last thing he saw was a ghostly talon crackling with electricity and felt the wracking pain as it struck. His vision went misty and slowly he was able to see, and unfortunatly..... feel... Kelek had only a vauge recolection of the past minutes, or hours, maybe even days. All he remembered was the throne of crumbling bone. His forehead burned, it felt like it would never stop burning. It was where the Harvester... touched him.... Marked him, marked him as his own. It felt as if a piece of him wa missing. He found a mirror and his reflection was .. changed .. It was hard to say what was different but he looked slightly less substantial. There was a ghostly cut on his forehead, a cut from a taloned hand. He looked around surprised to find himself in his chambers. Then wracking pain entered his head and he could hear... no that is not the right word... but FEEL a voice in his head. "Gooo myyy sssserrrrvennt. Yourrr soulllll bellllongggsss to meeee nowwww. You havvvve ffffaillllled meee forrrr thhhee lassst timmmme. You willll prrroovide meee withhhh Billllloooo'sss soullllllll. Gooooo worrrrmmmmm gooooo....". After wretching everything that ever went to his gullet Kelek made his way to the arena. The avatar was fighting Bilo in a few minutes. He could not allow the avatar to fail. The Harvester was taking no chances this time..... |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:37 PM | For seven days now Mara stood there, looking from the highest hill surrounding the city – looking to the horizon and waiting for her one true love to return. He went away a week ago, immideately after she told him about her fight against the Harvester and the undescribable dread she saw as the chaincurtain that covered its face was blown away for just a moment. A moment Mara would never forget. She saw what is behind the Harvesters chain curtain: nothing. It wasn`t black. It wasn`t darkness either. It was pure complete utter nothingness. She died that moment. Sure, the arena clerics ressurected her but though they couldn`t detect anything wrong they couldn`t ressurect everything. A part of her died that fateful day – a part of her very soul and she was sure there were no means to get this part back. Iron thought otherwise. He immideately set out to slay the Harvester for in his opinion this could help to restore Mara´s lost self. That was a week ago. She pleaded to him to leave this creature of doom alone before it destroys him too but she also knew that no thing in all the world would change Iron`s mind. Then a movement in the distance! A lone rider was swiftly approaching - that much was clear but she couldn`t recognize the rider through the tears in her eyes. Her lips were trembling, as were her hands that quickly folded themselves as she quietly spoke prayers to all the good-aligned gods... and her prayers had been heard. The rider was Iron the Panza. “Difficult terrain there. No means to charge me, he had” were the first words Iron said but to Mara it was all that she had wished for – hearing again the voice of her true love. Her hands gently embraced his torso while her lips pressed themselves against Iron`s. He responded with equal passion and lowered her down to a makeshift bed of flowers while a mild summer breeze blew through his hair. The two lovers spent the rest of the day and the whole night on the clearing high on the hill. It was an hour or two past midnight, Iron couldn´t say when he awoke by a suspicious sound nearby. “Irrrrron.” a voice whispered. Mara was still sleeping – how beautiful she looked – so he tried not to wake her. He belted his Greatsword and walked down the slope where the vegetation grew more dense. “Irrrronnnn”. Again the whispering misty voice from somewhere nearby. He took another couple of steps into the forested area and looked for the source of the voice. “IIIIIIIrrrrrronnnnn.” – “Who`s there?” Iron demanded. Silence. Then: “Don`t youuuu knowwww meeee? Donnn`t youuuu recognizzze the one you killed?” – “Harvester? Impossible.” – “No, not the Harvester, you fool.” the voice suddenly more corporal. “You prevented me from studying. You annoyed me all day long. You destroyed my garden. And then you killed me for NOTHING!!! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA THROUGH WHICH HELL YOU SENT ME!!! Ha. But now I have returned and I am here to pay you back in full.” – “Kelek!” the barbarian gasped “Then come out and stand before me!” Iron unsheated his sword and threw away the scabbard, readying himself into a battle stance. “No Iron, I wouldn`t hurt you enough if I kill you now, though I would love to see the remains of your corpse rotting at my feet after I used half of you as material components. No Iron, I won`t hurt YOU!” And with the last word stressed the voice faded away. “MARA!!” Iron reasoned and broke into a dead run back to the clearing at the hilltop. And his reasoning was correct. He reached the hilltop just in time to see a misty vapor enter through Mara`s ears. Instantly her body bent in an unnatural angle while she opened her mouth in a silent scream and her eyes nearly buldged out. Then she lay still. Iron hurried to her and padded her cheeks. He felt for her heart and was relived as it was still beating. Suddenly she opened her eyes. Perhaps Iron`s sigh of relief was a bit rash as Mara`s smile changed to spiteful laughter and he recognized a wickedness in her otherwise gentle eyes. Iron stumbled backward as Mara`s body rose from the ground. ‘She’ looked at her own hand she held before her eyes, she felt her form and the shape of her body, her breasts. Then she focused again on Iron. “What is it Iron? You look worried. I have to admit you have a good taste where woman are concerned. Not that she`s my type, far too dumb if you ask me, but this trained body is really amazing.” The body made a few punchs in the air. Iron could just shake his head in denial while his mouth formed silent “No”`s. “Oh don`t be so surprised Iron. Did you think you messed with a commoner? I am a necromancer. I have means to return from the dead; the only thing I needed was a new body. You stole mine, I have stolen the one of your love; an irony of fate. Quite funny, wouldn`t you agree? If you excuse me now, I have to return to my studies and...” – No.” – “What? What are you about to do? You don´t want to hurt this body, do you?” Round 1: “I get ye out there and then pray, ye dog.” Iron vowed but the one who prayed was he; a fast and fervent prayer to focus his faith. With every sylable a white light began to increase in intesity until it disappeared in a blinding flash of brightness. All that remained was a circle of white shadows that surrounded Iron`s feet. “Lets see what we have here” Kelek said as he fingered for a potion at the belt. He opened the vial, drew in a breath and downed it with one gulp, followed by a burp, and the same light surrounded Mara, though not as strong. Round 2: Iron feared that he couldn`t bear this any longer and so he prayed for divine endurance that hardened his spirit and gave him new inner strength to resist the dread of the whole situation. Kelek continued to tease Iron as he walked behind a tree while holding a big leaf in front of Mara`s face in a mock gesture of playful female attraction. “Oh there`s another potion. I can`t wait to see the effects” and even Kelek was surprised as the already powerful frame began to increase even more in strength. Round 3: Iron`s last prayer was just about to take effect as he continued to sing in a more high-pitched tone, reflecting the rise of the dead barbarian spirits to the heavens and he was rewarded with renewed strength, this time focused outward on more corporal matters. “Oh come on Iron. Could you please stop begging your tribal gods for helping you not to cry out like a small child? That doesn`t fit you. Well perhaps it does and no one just knew you this way. Yes, an interessting theory indeed, one that I will quickly spread among the gladiators once I am back in the city.” Mara`s body made a few steps forward and passed by another tree. Round 4: Iron was a bit disturbed by Kelek`s taunting and lowered his high-pitched prayer to a deep resonant bariton and a flash of light burst from Iron`s location – unfortunately not close enough to affect Mara`s form. “ENOUGH!” Kelek commanded as he picked up the Halberd that lay in the grass. “I have not only absorbed Mara`s body but her abilities aswell. Huh? Your heart is not gladdened by the fact that you get a chance to test yourself against Mara? Was that not a question you yourself asked more than once but knew that would never come to pass as you could never hurt your love? That is your chance now! If that doesn`t please you I cannot imagine how I could help you to regain your mirth.” Kelek made another few steps forward, threatingly close to Iron... but ‘she’ stopped by a small white pine. Round 5: Finally Iron awoke from his catatonic slumber and saw Mara – or her body at least – dangerously close. He tried to think about a way to get the cursed thief out of Mara`s holy body. He could never harm her with a weapon but if Kelek spoke true and he possessed Mara`s combat prowess he knew he wouldn`t live to see another minute without defending himself. He came up with an idea how to preserve her body and harm the soul but he wasn`t sure about that because he lacked knowledge in spellcraft. A short fervent prayer made his hand glow in blacklight. As Mara passed by the pine Iron made a few steps backward. He couldn´t bear the viscious smile on her beautiful face – at least HE found her most beautiful, no matter what other people might think. He remembered Milo Darkleaf setting her as a top favorite in the Ugliest-gladiator-competition next to Karse. That was before Iron turned the halfling`s head as one might do with a **** and threw him down a deep chasm to prevent ressurection. Lost in his thoughts he watched his love playfully vanish behind a spruce. Round 6: Iron shook his head to shake off his thoughts. It was time to act. Now or never. He stepped forward towards the spruce and reached for Mara`s torso. A surge of negative energy coursed through her body and made her tremble all over. Iron nearly fainted when he saw this, his knees barely able to support his massive weight. “Whh..hh..hhat?” Kelek managed to gasp as he tried to find words ...or manage to speak them out “Yyyy...yyyy...you`ve hurt me? Nnnnno-ooo *gasps* I wwwwillll not ggggive yyy-yyyy-yyyou thisssss-body. Nevvvver.” and with these words he made a poorely executed swing at Iron. Obviously Iron expected to have Mara freed and all the more he was surprised as his feet were pulled out under him and the adamantine halberd descended twice upon his body. Round 7: Kelek`s laughter sounded again as Mara pointed a finger at the wounded and prone barbarian. “You fool! YOU FOOL! MWAHAHAHAHAAA” came from her lips but the words were not Mara`s. Iron decided to stay prone while he renewed the blacklight in his hand. Hoping the negative energy would help him to get the spirit out of Mara`s body he tossed his hands forward and released the energy on her legs. Again the body shuddered and trembled, this time he saw the beautiful face of Mara grimacing. “Ha-ha! You think you can impress me with your pityful cantrips? I am a necromancer and negative energy is my district!” he heard Kelek point out but Iron also noticed a few ragged breaths between his words. Obviously the energy attacks were paying off. He had no time to think about this though as another overhead chop descended on Iron. The first one roused him from his thoughts and the second one descended on the spot where Iron lay before he rolled to the side. Round 8: A single hit from an enchanted adamantine halberd would`ve cleaved nearly every person in two but Iron took three of them already. He grimaced in pain though, his vision began to blur and he now saw three Mara`s towering before him. He decided that it wouldn`t do him any good if he had to guess who`s the real one and tended his wounds first. His sight returned to normal as one of his serious wounds closed and left nothing behind except for another long scar. Kelek was obviously impressed by the regenerative abilities of his divine magic and executed another swing without the normal teasing. Perhaps something wasn`t going according to plan, Iron thought and the uncontrolled swings of Mara verified this theory. Round 9: Iron summoned the blacklight again and his hand began to reglow immideately. In the same motion he thrusted his hand forward and touched Mara`s leg again. This time a faint cry formed around Mara`s lips as she gasped for breath. “NOOOOO!! You don`t get me out of this body!!! NEVER!!!” and with a furious cry Kelek brought the Halberd down again which nearly severed Iron`s left arm from the shoulder on. Round 10: Though Iron felt his strength fading he knew his attacks weakened Kelek`s spirit to a great extend so he continued his apparently successful tactic. A blacklighted hand shot forward once again and released its energy on Iron`s love which didn`t fail its effect. Kelek just laughed. “Ok, let`s stop this charade. What is this tactic of yours?” he said as he executed another swing at the prone Iron and didn`t miss him. “You want to save someone who is not any more. Yes, you heard correctly! Mara is dead. She was dead the moment I took over her body.” Kelek explained and brought the halberd around again but Iron laid himself perfectly prone on the ground and the halberd passed by mere inches from his nose. “This whole combat I bluffed you in believing that there is still a chance to save Mara...” Round 11: “...I wanted to see you gather the last remains of hope, hope to save this most ugly woman, only to shatter it this very moment. This moment of triumph!! Mara is dead and you`ll never see her again! And I killed her!” ”NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Iron cried out! With tears in his eyes and a rage he has never known before in his life he drew his sword and thrusted it upward from his kneeling position. The magical greatsword pierced Mara`s body like butter from her belly up to her neck where it ejected. Her eyes instantly rolled backward and she collapsed to the ground. Epiloque: Iron bent over the fallen body of his dead true love. His eyes were red-rimmed from the tears that rolled down his cheeks like a neverending waterfall. “Mara!” he gasped as he pressed her head against his breast. “WHYYYY!!!!!” he cried to the heavens. “WHYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”. Then he heard something from nearby. “HARHARHAR!!! IRON!! YOU ARE THE MOST STUPID FOOL I`VE EVER SEEN” a voice said. The barbarian recognized the voice. It was the true voice of Kelek, spoken from his true body as he stepped from behind a fin. “What a harmoneous scene” Kelek taunted and clasped his hands together in a mock gesture of compasion “The two lovers united again. I am sure you are asking yourself what exactly happened. Well, my mentor, Professor Vandaeris Dre’Dandrahl, lent me this scroll of...ah never mind. You are far too stupid to even hope to understand magic. The only thing you have to know is that YOU killed Mara for the spell would`ve expired after a few hours. MuahahAHAHAAA!!! YOU ALONE KILLED HER AND NOW SUFFER!! SUFFER FOR ALL ETERNITY WITH THE KNOWLEDGE OF HAVING KILLED YOUR ONE LOVE!!!” Kelek laughed so loud that it even echoed to the far city below “If you excuse me now? I have a rendez-vous with the assassins guild.” then turned his back to the barbarian but before Iron could react Kelek vanished in a cloud of vision-obscuring smoke. Iron`s efforts to find him proved futile and as Kelek`s laughter finally died off only smoke remained behind. Not so for Iron. For Iron there was another thing that remained: ...Vengeance. Iron took the 800 Platinumpieces Mara carried on her body and knelt at her side, forgeting time and space. After a couple of minutes though his endurance spell faded and he lost unconsciousness. After another minute he entered the eternal sleep – joining his love in the afterlife. Midnight, 2 days later: High on the hilltop, the birds flew up from their perches on the trees while the grasshoppers stopped their chirping as a dark figure approached the clearing. He sniffed once, twice, then went into the direction from where the smell originated. He found the source in form of two humanoid bodies. He knew at once that they were dead without looking at them. He drew closer and knelt beside the corpses. For a moment nothing happened. But then a faint whisper could be heard, a whisper that instantly killed all the birds who foolishly remained behind. “Irrrrronnnn. Nowwwww thisssss-issssss-a surprrrrisssssse. Letsssss-ssssee whatttt happppennnned” The figure laid a gloved hand on Iron`s chest and drew in a breath “Ahhhh-I seeeee. Kellllekkkk, the traiiiiitorrrrr.” the robed figure got back to his feet and gazed for a long moment on the fallen Iron. Finally he raised a gloved hand and spoke again “Nooooo, thisssss-issss not how itttt-isssss meant to ennnnnnd. Rrrissssse, Irrrrronnnn, rrrrrise. Atttt the firsssst rayyyy of dawnnnnn your soullll shalllll be releassssed.” And with these words the Harvester saddled up on Knellstriker and galloped away, towards the city, a huge bone dragon obediently following him. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:46 PM | KUMQUATS ARE EATING MEEEEEEEEE!!!! AH! No…no. Musn’t tell them…musn’t tell them about the fruit. No. WE. We will say it is…it is not a fruit-NO! A fight=yes, ha ha! Yes yes yes, they will call us mad and we will call them telephones, but everyone really knows (~102% of everyone-I counted!) it is a fight! Today-and yesterday-and most of the 22nd, but none of of the 23rd, the mo-mo-mo-monk…and the g-g-g-gnome-they fight in the F.f.f.f.f.f. FAR REALMSAHHHHH THE KUMQUATS ARE BACK… Mr. Man-the monk I mean, he enters with nothing. NOTHING I TELL YOU! WHY WON’T YOU BELIEVE (Be live?) ME?!?!?!! Little Mr not-a-man…he comes in with a…suicide bird. THE DOG ATE SUICIDE BIRD! Its on his shoulder… Round 1 Rito goes first and explodes into fish! They sparkle and dance in 7 moons light! Watch is they swim into the sun! He double moves behind a Monkey! and hides himself as well as he can. The sharp eyed gnome looks then screams when his eyeballs jump out of his face! They turn around and say, “What ho good sir, don’t mind us, we’re off to nip a spot of tea! Jolly good.” and then readies a spell for Rito’s sudden approach and moves 20 feet back. Round 2 The fish have mated in the sky’s above-happy day! Watch as SILVER FISH fall onto the ground and slides gracefully behind cover again behind another outcropping of rock. Bruno again sees his eyes staring at his own eyes, and drinking tea! but being mistrustful decides to conceal himself. He then trots over to his own Monkey! and hides there. Round 3 Rito glances around but sees no sign of 200 elephants, trying to combine in an oxidative reaction! . He continues skirting the outside of the arena. Bruno stay’s where he is Beseeching his eyes to finish their tea quickly! and cast’s mirror image. He is joined by 5 BIG AMERICAN PARTIES! which copy his invisible moves. Round 4 Rito AHHH BATS (Listen 11 vs. 4 success, not pinpointed) and adjusts his move slightly to have what he hopes is better cover. Bruno is suddenly assaulted by Tommy who shrieks, “CAW CAW CAW I LOVE EYE’S!” which deeply disturbs Bruno is suddenly alerted by Tommy of Rito’s location! With out line of site though Bruno can’t target rito with spells. Instead he casts a line to hook a fish! He succeeds! What a tasty SILVER FISH Bruno eats the SILVER FISH and its very good! coating his body with a thick layer of black grease and moving 10 feet closer. Round 5 RitoIS EATEN BY A LLAMA! a little concerned about not seeing his foe, but deciding to stick with the plan moves to his final location…approximately 10ft from Bruno. Bruno dissolves into beetles…The beetles are also spiders! moves upward going as quietly as he can and Rito has just enough time to AH LLAMA AHHHHHHH! before a blast of negative energy lances from the moon. and withers Rito’s uncomfortably ripped body. Round 6 Rito gasps in marvy groovisitude…ah spiders!, then decides to try attacking anyway by using harsh language! . 5ft away, he closes his eyes and grabs at where he thinks Bruno lies but even with his special training he can’t touch Bruno. Bruno has finally convinced his eyes that his face is the place to be! “God show old chap,” they say, safely ensconced within his brow. “You’ll get him now!” makes a concentration check and casts blindness on Rito, calling down a black haze about the moon! I hate the moon! Be blind moon, be blind! and circling back 20 feet. Round 7 Hoping to delay the end a bit because that rito…he likes to fool around a little, you know, he’s cool like that. surrounding himself with sparkling faith. Bruno meanstwhile BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssss ssssssssssssssssssss……… prepares his familiar by coating it in a layer of iced cream. and readies an attack. Round 8 Rito readies an attack if he should be attacked OH NO HERE COMES THE LLAMA! . Bruno moves 5ft away from Rito whispers sweet nothings in his ears and then sends Tommy to attack who succeds in the touch but does not manage to drain strength. Then Tommy acts and calls upon dark hearitige to suck the life from rito and deposite it in a security deposite. Nice intrest in thoses , but fails to graps the blind and withered monk. Rito attacks then, responding to the attempted touch right on his tummy tum tum and swings at Bruno but misses, terribly. Round 9 Rito swings I hear he’s a tiger with the ladies! AH TIGER! but can barely lift a finger. Tommy turns into a helicopter. Bruno has a go vroom vroom vroom . A rather embarrassing showing by all accounts. Round 10 Rito thanks the master of my pants! for his feat selection then tries to attack bruno again. He’s easy to find by the smell at least I think he smells like a hamster! . Tommy tries ”I’ll cut you with my helicopter blade! ‘wop wop wop wop wop’!” . Bruno takes a moment to grease himself He kid, you still using that greasy stuff? You want to get really nice hair I’ll tell you what to do- [Round 11 Rito Rito Rito Bombito bi-bi-bito, Rito. flurries twice but can’t quite get a hold. The bravest little helicopter of them all attacks from rito’s side. Bruno tries as well ”I say sir, I was just getting comfortable here but if you insist on bandying about with this ruffian perhaps me and my mate will stop of at the pub for a pint or two, and leave you all mucking about like blind mice! ”Good show! I think we’ll stay after all. Round 12 Rito can only do his best just like his father, the pile of squirming beetle/scorpians taught him. but that just isn’t good enough. Rito’s father: Quivers with shame. . Tommy attacks ”I may be small!” said the brave little helicopter, “but my heart is large and I say I will fly everyone to safety! and saps Rito’s strength. Thinking and drinking. And sitting. And wishing. this strength sucking thing might be the way to go, Bruno sends a black ray at poor Rito He’s an ascetic you see? Donated every possession he had to the poor. ”I say sir, you are a cruel individual. I suppose that’s just the way you see things though” Round 13 Barely able to stand Or sing! No. No wait he can still sing. Rito yet again attempts to attack but he could hardly grapple a kitten at this point. A wounded kitten perhaps. Tommy ”Come on everyone, we’re flying home!” attacks with a sparkling wing. Bruno follows suit ha ha follows suit. What a great image, you’re just walking along and then you see this suit walking past you and you’re like-wow empty clothes floating as if possessed down the streat I believe I will follow them. Its kind of like that story by Dr. Suess? The pants with nobody inside of them, it was called “what was I afraid of?”. That was probably my single favorite story when I was growing up. I’ve talked with my babysitter since then and she said evertime she sat I would have her read, “The sneetches and other stories”-and always the story about the pale green pants with nobody inside them. Man those were good times. with another vampiric touch and manages not to drain the life from poor Tommy. Round 14 Rito considers crying. Instead he opts for an attack, with an option to cry later. Rito’s father: Explodes with rage into a shower of beetles Tommy wings over Gee big Ted, I never thought before about how much work it is to help people, thanks so much for letting me! . Bruno tries to do better, ”It would be hard to do worse sir, I only ask that you not poke yourself in the eye whilst your finger glows so alarmingly.” and sucks further vitality from the terribly dry Rito Round 15 Rito cries. But through his non-blinding tears he attacks. ] Rito’s father: Beetles form pictogram of shame…somehow… . Tommy Here I come sky! Big beautiful sky, I will fly in you forever! . Bruno, well aware of exactly how easy it is to kill a week near defenseless man, casts his own chill touch and attacks, (5+6=11 miss) Distracted by the pants no doubt. With nobody inside of them you see. Yes. Round 16 And suddenly the far realms disappear in a puff of logic! “MERCY!” screams Rito. “Please take your winning and go…I simply can not stand any longer. Please, I’ll do anything..?” Bruno and Tommy pause for just a moment. They look at each other…back at the withered and broken Rito…Bruno: “Kid? Never. Trust a pig farmer.” And with one last scream Rito dies a terribly unpleasant death which does save him the trouble of being conscious as he passes down a pigs digestive track. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 06:50 PM | “Would Iron the Panza, the last remaining leader of the Panza tribe stand forth,” the Chieftain cries out. “Iron, you are hereby charged with the crime of Necromancy. Furthermore, you are also charged with violating our ancient burial grounds for your own nefarious needs. Heretofore, you are also charged with the heinous crime of adultery in your wanton affair with Mara Thunderstorm when you were previously to be ritualistically betrothed to another worthy member of our tribe,” the inquisitor points his stubby finger “IRON, how do you plead to these charges.” - “Guilty, your high inquisition. Is love wrong? Is raising the ancient dragon steed that Grozag once road to help defend our village from the hoards that await on our doorstep? Is it a crime to love this tribe so much that I’d be willing to sacrifice my very own life to defend it? If you consider those crimes your High Inquisitor, then I am GUILTY as charged.” - “So be it.” The inquisitor sneers, “Your moralistic tantrum won’t save you. Burn him at the stake!” he yells. “NO! We won’t have his blood on our hands Inquisitor” the Chieftain raises. “Iron at least deserves to be allowed to live and regain his honor. Let him instead be banished from the Grozag Tribal Community, and seek shelter and food elsewhere. That, to Iron, I believe to be worst than death itself.” “So, you favor this boy Chieftain?” The High Inquisitor begins to eye Chieftain suspiciously. “Yes I do, is that a crime too?” the chieftain retorts. “Hehehe, no, not yet at least. HAhahaha.” Replies tauntingly. The High Inquisitor continues, “Iron the Panza, you are, by the power passed down by the honorable and noble Grozag blood-line, hereby BANNED, from the tribe. You shall be stripped of the clan name Panza. That name belongs to worthy heroes and noble barbarians of legend and thus it shall be stripped from your name.” Iron hangs his head in shame, gathers his few precious belongings and rides out to meet his undead steed at the old burial ground again, where not long ago, he feared for his life and defended this very same clan from extinction with all the might a Panza could muster. Iron reaches the edge of the village and Chief Grozag XIV is there waiting from him. “Not done brutally humiliating me in front of my family, you need to kick me when I’m down Grozag?” Iron stares at Grozag XIV accusingly. “Iron…” chief Grozag begins, but Iron interrupts him. “So it’s just Iron now? No more Panza?” “Please, this is hard on us all. You have championed us for many years. It was not easy. I fear there is something dirty here. Something evil at work. I don’t trust the High Inquisitor. He doesn’t seem himself. Though I only met him once when I was younger, he was very intelligent and seemed wise beyond his years. What I saw today, was a wicked, vile individual that obviously has a hidden agenda.” “Why are you telling me this? Is my banishment not humiliation enough, you now needed to tell me it was a farce from the beginning and you did nothing to stop this? ANSWER OLD MAN!!” and Iron draws his greatsword and is poising himself to cleave Chief Grozag XIV in two. “Iron, you know this is not true. I do have something that could help you though. Ever heard of someone named MO?” “Rumors, nothing more. Supposed to be some deity with delusions of grandeur manipulating common folk to do his bidding. But those are just tales old man. Nothing more than to scare children into obedience.” “What if I told you, that those stories aren’t far from the truth?” Chief Grozag coyly remarks. “Then speak, or my blade will finish its chosen path.” “Far in the hill and to the West, you must cross the Anglade mountains. There you will find an old monastery. Be careful though, some powerful monks have made it their home. They may be willing to pick a fight with a dubious outsider such as you just to prove their worthiness. When you get to the monastery ask for Master Gazorg, he will tell you more about your bloodline and what actually may be behind this plot to bring the Panza tribe down.” “Gazorg? Old man, that is Grozag spell backwards. Are you leading me on a wild goose chase to get me as far away from the village as possible?” “So you’re not as dumb as you look, and you see the connection. But seek him out. He has much to say. Now, don’t be angry, but he warned me of the High Inquisitor and asked that I remain silent for now so that “those-who-operate-in-shadows” will extend themselves further into the light, so that their identities will be revealed.” “I shall make haste then. Uhm….sorry about the sword.” “Careful, now that word is out of your apparent treachery, those who would serve justice may actually seek you out and attempt to destroy you.” “Not before they find my blade in their spine.” With that Iron begins his journey, his quest. He leaves the sanctuary of the Grozag tribal village and heads West. Meanwhile…. The double doors burst open. A thin wiry elf quickens his pace to a lone figure seated at the head of an ornate dinner table. “Have you heard the news?” “Yes, I’ve been receiving messages all day. The High Inquisitor is charging Iron the Panza with treason.” “Is there any validity to these crimes? I mean, Iron has been a champion to his people for so long, how could he have committed those crimes?” “You, you Ebelin Barnahdy, have respect for Iron? A b-a-r-b-a-r-i-a-n?” “I didn’t say that Father. Only that it’s hard to believe after so long.” Ebelin scratches his ears. “I mean, how could he betray all those around him? Betray his code? Betray his fellow gladiators? And necromancy? That is absurd is it not?” “I assure you, come look at the scry mirror.” Father motions to Ebelin. Ebelin and Father stare at the scry mirror, and they both witness something grotesque and disturbing. Iron, formerly known as Iron the Panza mounted on a skeletal dragon the size of a small house riding Westward. The scene changes to cloudy and murky grey, as the image begins to fade. “Why is it fading? I wish to see more.” Ebelin gasps. “More isn’t needed my son. You are strong now. You have passed many test have overcome adversity both far and near.” “Ok…so what AREN’T you telling me than Father?” “We, House Brandy, have been given an amazing opportunity. Slay Iron, and we may reclaim our heritage house.” “You’re kidding right? Please don’t tease me father. You know I love the stories of old, but the heritage house is a myth right?” “I’m afraid not son. It was uncovered by an archeological expedition less than a year ago. Within it, are traces of Barnahdy lineage dating back to almost the beginning of the arrival of the elves.” “Wow. I didn’t think our lineage was that old. What station did we hold back then Father?” “That of Kings and Queens my son.” With that Ebelin lets out an audible gasp. Kings and Queens? The royal bloodline of the ancient bladesingers? He’s having trouble absorbing it all. It’s simply too much to absorb all at once and Ebelin sits down, taking a sip of the wine that was laid out for dinner. “What is the problem my son? I thought you’d be more ecstatic than that?” “I am father, I am. But doesn’t it strike you as odd? I mean, miraculously the heritage house is uncovered, we are offered to move in, and reclaim lordship over it, and all for destroying a traitor? In my heart I know this is too good to be true. The heritage house has been lost for tens of thousands of years. This can’t be a coincidence. Please tell me you don’t believe all of this do you?” “Did you not see Iron with your own eyes.” “Yeah, yeah, I did, but who cares about some dumb, arrogant barbarian from bushwhacks-god-knows-where, I’m interested in why all of a sudden, this sudden turn around in you Father. Are you ok? There is something that is deeply troubling me with all of this. I’ll slay Iron, just for the sake of ridding the world of another necromancer. The guy is a traitor in my eyes, of that, there is no doubt. He violated is tribal laws, he was an adulterer, he lied to his Chieftain…I mean that alone deserves death. But Father, are you sure you’re ok.” “FOOL!” the image of Ebelin’s father quickly fades away, and is replaced with something wicked and horrible. “M…” is all that Ebelin manages to muffle. Ebelin, frozen in place, resist with all his might, but this, this, thing in front of him is too strong. Ebelin is thrown to the far end of the dining hall with but a gesture of his hand. Ebelin knows the power, it’s the power of telekinesis. But how? He didn’t see him cast any spell, and wasn’t prepared for the sudden change. Ebelin does not recognize the creature that stands before. He is a tall, gaunt humanoid with rough, yellow skin and russet hair pulled into a pair of topknots. Its eyes have a sinister gleam, and its ears are pointed and serrated in back. Ebelin, unable to fight against the Githyanki’s telekinetic powers, it peers into Ebelin’s mind. Another creature plane-shifts in. MIND-FLAYER!!!!! Ebelin’s mind panics, “So is this how it ends?” he thinks. “The lich queen has lost something very precious to her. Our divinations say you have come into contact with it. Where is it?” “Ssssssth…we needssss Ironsss Triballsss necklaceess. It is ancient. It’ssss holdsss a key. We’zzzz needs itss.” Hisses the Illithid. Ebelin thinks out loud, “Then get it yourself, why do you need me?” “Alwayssss better to have sssssomeone do youzzzz dirty workssss. Harderrsss to tracccce ussss for the avatarsssss that alsssso ssssseek usss out.” “If we show ourselves too soon, the jig could be up. And MO would have our hides.”, the Gith smirks as he says this. “MO? Why have I heard that name before? Is he a god?”, thinks Ebelin. “Oops, I think I already said too much. Ok, time for the Geas. Oh, by the way, these spells I’m casting on you, compliments of the lich queen, aren’t core, but they do the job. One will wipe out your short-term memory, so you’ll forget all about us. The other, is a lich-queen modified Geas. It will ensure you do as you’re told. Go find Iron, and kill him, return to us his necklace. Now this is the lovely part. You won’t even know you took it from him. Hahha. Since you already hate his guts for being a sacrilegious adulterer, that should give you a big negative to your will saves if you try to double cross us.” Ebelin, groggy, wakes up from a long deep slumber. The breeze is blowing about him and the tall grass sways back and forth. He raises, double checks his belongings to make sure no raccoons snooped through his packs and took stuff, and continues his journey westward to slay the sacrilegious adulterer, Iron. Ebelin’s father walks into the foyer, pours himself a glass of wine and sits in front of the fire place. “Hmm…Ebelin must have been here. Dinner is set, and barely touched. Oh well, no sense in letting good food go to waste.” In another dark room, somewhere in the multiverse… “What of the Celestial Forces? Any news?” “None your Highness, no word of their troops moving yet. It should be a complete surprise attack. There will be NO survivors my queen.” A lean, gaunt female Gith with holy attire bows deeply in reverence to which she’s addressing. Ebelin continues to track his prey. After all, there aren’t many huge skeletal dragons in the area, so tracking this particular one shouldn’t be too hard. Ebelin knows that Iron is a formidable foe, and that dragon only complicates things. Up ahead, Ebelin can see Iron begin to enter the mountain pass to the western world. The weather is also picking up. Ebelin looks up. “It is going to snow soon Ashteru. We need to increase our pace.” Ebelin wraps his cloak around him for warmth, sheltering Ashteru from the cold wind. Iron senses that he’s being followed. He doesn’t really hear the person tracking him, but has occasionally spied a slim shadowy figure darting from tree to tree. “No matter my pet. Let them come. Let them all come. Iron will show them all just how mighty I have become. None shall survive my fury should they dare to challenge me. This valley pass through the mountain will be a perfect place to ambush this poor tracker. Fool!” Ebelin picks up the pace. Entering the valley, he perks his keen elvish ears. “He’s stopped moving Ash. He’s on to us.” Ebelin hears the rumbling getting closer, “PREPARE FOR BATTLE ASHTERU!” he yells. Ebelin quickly finishes a spell that renders him invisible to all but magical mean, and sure enough as the lumbering Iron on his new found pet rumble forth charging toward his last known position Ebelin becomes visible. As quick as he was to react to Irons charge, Ebelin commands the air to carry him aloft. Ebelin rises out of reach of the filthy human, Panza. Iron also realizes that now must come the inevitable delay of when Ebelin attacks. Iron must be swift to prepare his defenses. The natural steam geysers of this valley make excellent hiding spots. Iron and Rona enter in the middle of one of the misty springs and conceals himself from Ebelin’s sight. But he knows Ebelin has sharp ears as anyone out there. The wind picks up, snow begins to fall on Rona’s wings and Iron knows that the weather will not be helping him this afternoon. Ebelin perks his ears as both combatants prepare their spells. “So, Iron, you think you can escape me? You are a fool. I will show you just how stupid uncivilized barbarians are.” Ebelin produces an image of himself, trying to draw out Iron without success. “Hmm….Iron is being patient today. Ok. How about again?” And yet again, to no avail. Iron is being extremely patient, carefully analyzing the movements of each figure, careful not to waste precious resources on simple illusions. He knows if he is to beat a patient elf it is to be more patient than the elf. Through the driving wind and snow, Ebelin’s sharp elven ears pick up sounds coming from the geyser and knows that Iron is deep in ritualistic chanting, praying to his undead gods. Ebelin finds a rocky overhand to get some shelter from the hazards of nature. When he spies Iron moving out of the geyser in search for him, Ebelin tries to dispel his magicks, and is thwarted by Iron. He knew this would happen, but is sullen when he hears Iron replace the counter-magic within the ring on his finger once again. Ebelin leaps off his perch under the overhang and allows gravity to take him down in a rapid decent just above Iron’s head and sends a black crackling ray his way. Iron simply smiles and grunts as he absorbs the shock without flinching. Iron begins to breathe laboriously though, as it did have some effect. His chest heaving up and down, having trouble catching his breath. Iron carefully aims an arrow at Ebelin and lets it fly, but the wind and snow makes aiming difficult and simply tears off a piece of Ebelin’s cloak with the arrow instead. Ebelin, thoroughly disgusted by the sacrilegious Iron, fires another pair of necromantic bolts at his adversary. Iron is now more familiar with the ways of necromancy, almost as though it had accepted him instead, nimbly steps aside. Ebelin is unable to compensate for the sudden change in the winds direction and both bolts miss. Iron, caught by the shimmering of bright light on something Ebelin is wearing, again misses with his mighty bow. Ebelin’s impatience begins to show. Ebelin attempts a bold and rash move. Ebelin keeping the bright light of a hooded lantern swoops down to Iron. Iron closes his eyes temporarily and Ebelin is able to quickly take advantage of this distraction and wraps his arms around Iron. With full intention of carrying Iron up to his doom, a magical force strikes Ebelin hard. The magical repulsion is enough to knock Ebelin and Ashteru a dozen feet away knocking the wind out of him. As Ebelin is repulsed he gives Iron a kick in the face, just to let him know he won’t be outdone. Iron keeps his bow trained on Ebelin ready to shoot when he tries to cast spells. Iron’s shot rings true, as blood is spilled, but Ebelin finds the strength to continue with the spell and disappears once again from sight. Ebelin is getting tired. All this flying and countering each others maneuvers, and even drawing blood, can take a toll on his young soul. Ebelin finds a ledge upon the edge of the cliff. “The snow is too harsh my friend, we cannot continue to fly in this weather. It will tear us asunder.” Almost like it was reading his mind, the winds begin to die down and Ebelin can see Iron and Rona scanning the ground for any sign of him. They spot Ebelin high upon his perch and Rona the undead dragon, begins to savagely lash at the cliff wall. Although Ebelin has no illusions, this beast simply cannot bring down the entire wall, it could make his perch unstable enough to come crashing down. With the winds having died down. Ebelin carefully stalks his way down the cliff wall. A loud echoing sound is heard off in the distant. Whatever the source was Iron and Rona immediately leave to investigate it. This has bought Ebelin some time to find a new hiding spot. “Iron is well protected by magicks my little friend. We must now play the waiting game as well. If only I had been a little more patient, I would still have much of my resources available to continue this fight. The weight of the magical energy that sapped up, proved to be more painful than what I’ll admit to.” Ebelin tries some strange ghost sounds of his own and is rewarded when Iron and Rona come crashing through the snow-covered pine trees to investigate. Ebelin slips away quietly. Nearly an hour has passed since he an Iron have begun their battle. Ebelin has a new tactic. Frustrate him and force him into making a critical mistake. Ebelin begins to get his attention, and runs across a small, but deep, pond, hoping Iron would follow. Iron simply draws his bow, and aims it at Ebelin waiting for him to cast a spell. Ebelin ducks out of sight, trying to snipe Iron from the cover of the trees. For about another 10 or 15 minutes, the wiry and fleet of foot Ebelin is able to draw much blood from Iron. But each time he succeeds and inflicting grievous wounds upon Iron, Iron simply casts a healing spell, negating all his hard work. Iron orders Rona to make a dash for Ebelin. Ebelin steps back and knocks a tree that he was standing beside. The light, powdery snow that was resting upon it’s limbs come falling down, creating a nice sheet or blanket from which to make good his escape from. While Ebelin continues to circle Iron for another deadly shot with the bow, he falls into a crevasse. He can hear the mighty undead dragon trying to smell his location, “Stupid skeleton, you can’t smell anymore you moron. Go away.” Ebelin tries hard to escape the crevasse. He sees the dragon and Iron poke their ugly heads down, “My my little elf. What have we here? Looks like a little boy left mommy’s clutch a little too early?” “IRON!!! You are vile and evil. There will be others. You shall never rest with you blasphemous creations walking around. There are more powerful forces than you that walk this earth. They will demand JUSTICE!” Ebelin takes a shot from his bow, the angle makes the arrow a particularly nasty one as it pierces Iron’s flesh. Iron reels back in pain and howls in the chilly winter air. His breath that can be seen has the taint of blood in it. Ebelin fires again, not letting Iron a chance to recuperate. Iron orders Rona back, and Iron prays to his new undead patron to close the wounds. In the meanwhile, Ebelin has climbed out of the crevasse and fires another deadly shot at Iron. Again he screams in pain, but orders Rona to charge Ebelin. Rona is huge….Rona is deadly. Rona tears at the very fabric of Ebelin’s magical creations that all the fury of an undead dragon can muster. Iron is flabbergasted, Ebelin still lives. More so, Ebelin is even unharmed, but he is pinned. With his back against the tree, the soft snow falling outlining his form, he knows the dragon will not miss again. He LUNGES at Iron, trying to beat some sense into the uncouth Barbarian. A flurry of blows connects and Ebelin begins to play some chin-music on Iron. Iron falls over on Rona’s back and is surprised at the superior fighting prowess of Ebelin. He really didn’t think he’d be this good of a wrestler, but again, the magical energies push Ebelin away, leaving Iron unscarred and Ebelin wondering what to do next. Knowing he’s done his best, but he simply cannot get past Iron’s magical defenses. Rona answers that question. Rona rears its head, opens its maw and takes a grand full bite. Ebelin is instantly crushed between the gaping jaws of Iron’s new creation. Rona flings Ebelin to the ground and off it’s back and swings its back end around with a mighty tail swing. Ebelin lost consciousness. Crimson mist and bone chips fall like the snow in the now quite valley side. Iron pats his beast for a job well done, even though it knows no such thing and Iron rides on to the Monastery. Some snickering can be heard in the distance a few hundred yards as a pair of deviants chatter. “Tee hee, that was too cool,” says the Githyanki. “But whasst about Iron’ssss necklaccce? We needsss that necklacccce. It wasss sssupremely important,” replies the mind flayer. “Oh that thing? Bah, don’t worry, I have it right here see.” “How did you…” “It got blown off by the geysers while he was in the mists early on. I’ve had it the whole time.” “Ssso why thess entire ccccharadess?” “Hmm…dunno. I just like it when the good guy loses.” “Hahaha….too funny my friend, too funny. Let’sss sssshift back to the missstressss. Ssshe’ll be pleasssed with our ssssuccessss.” The fabric of the material plane is torn with but a wave of the Illithids hand and they both step through, closing it behind them. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 07:17 PM | ...continues from when Iron leaves for the Monastery and meets up with Ebelin. As Iron leaves his village for the monastary to the west, he doesn't notice that Chief Grozag begins to glow somewhat and his shape begins to shift. The ominous figure of Winter'Tok stands at the edge of Panza village watching the notorious Iron stride off into the distance. "By the time you discover it's a trap old fool, your village will be turned into dust." ...back in the snowy valley, shortly after the Ebelin fight. "What have i done? How could i be such a fool?" Iron stands over the broken form of Ebelin Barnahdy. The steam from the cooling body rises into the air as the snow continues to fall in the valley. Iron is clouded in emotions, thoughts and confusion. He stares at the darkening sky above pleading for some hints or a sign as what to do next, but nothing. His mind races back to his village, trying to recall what Chief Grozag IV had said before he left, {..all will be made clear when you arrive at the monastery} but that doesn't make sense. Why? Why go all the way to the monastery? If war broke out in the mainlands, he'd be cut off, unable to help his comrades....DING! Suddenly a cold chill rises up Iron's spine. With a sudden realization that he was duped into coming out here, he panics for a second. "It wasn't my will or my emotions that stayed my sword strike against Chief Grozag, at first i thought it was, but i knew i meant to strike him out of anger. I thought i had used all my strength to keep my anger and emotions in check...but it wasn't that. I was HELD back from striking him. TELEKENISIS!! NOooooooooo! Iron, knowing that this foul undead creature will follow his every command, he leads it over the precipice of the canyone walls, leaving it to tumble some 220' odd feet below, smashing against the rocks. He can see it's twisted, hulking form get ripped apart as it smashes against the jagged rocks of the cliff face. "Foul demons and beast....rest in hell." He quickly fabricates a make-shift trall and places Ebelins broken body upon it and quickly races back toward the Panza village. After a few days go by, he enters the open tundra where the sacred burial grounds are located and on the horizon....smoke! Iron, again emotions welling up inside him, quickens the pace. He knows he'll be unable to fight while dragging Ebelin, and he quickly says a prayer and sets him down beside the ancient tomb of Chief Grozag I. Iron quickens the pace and double times it to the village. He can make out the forms of many animals blindingly stricking at villagers, tearing them asunder. In the center of the village is a great T-Rex with demonic eyes mounted by a strange figure. A figure in Dark-Armor, with long flowing black robes with a glowing magical circlet about it's forearm, barking commands at the other animals forced into obedience. The dark figure cackles and strides off to the swamps to the east. "Find the leader, find the leader." Iron repeats to himself. Kill the leader and the rest shall disband. Iron makes out what he figures to be the alpha Raptor. Their eyes lock. The raptor barks in fury at Iron, and charges, easily leaping over a stone hut and pouncing upon Iron, opening two critically gaping and viscious wounds before he could react. Iron was fortunate to approach the village cautiously and had some magical assistance, otherwise those wounds would have been greivious indeed. Iron returns the favor with all the might of the heavens, begging to the laws of nature for forgiveness in his blashpemous ways, renouncing necromancy in all it's ways, Iron lets loose with a terrible roar, a smite upon the beast like now other smite. The flat of the blade connects soundly with the flank of the raptor and it is sent hurtling through a stone hut, smaking it to rubble. The beast shakes off the assault and comes back at Iron with two more incredibly viscious blows. No mortal man should be able to withstand those wounds, none but Iron that is. Feeling the pain, Iron takes to the air to attempt to heal himself, but doesn't get quite high enough out of it's reach and the raptor launches it self easily into the air, opening fresh wounds and aggravating old ones. With the aid of the Panza elders, Iron is able to stop the bleeding and fully recover. The Raptor below is furiously trying to leap up to him but fails with each try. Iron descends below again to face "The Boss". Iron seeks a safe landing spot behind another stone hut, but it is but a minor obstacle for the raptor as it pounces overtop the building, leaving it without a scratch and turning to face Iron. It barks a shriek at Iron in defiance and claws into him opening some new wounds once again. Iron is undaunted this time, confident in his magics to hold, he takes another pair of mighty swipes with the flat of the great blade, bringing it to bear upon the raptors hind. The raptor, feeling a little weak in the knees, takes another feeble stroke at Iron and the great sword falls again, this time collapsing the raptor. It breaths labouriously, unable to defend itself, waiting for the final shot. But it doesn't come. Instead, Iron, takes removes his gauntlet and pets the beast. "There there, old boy. It's over now, you don't need to struggle against his control any longer. Everything's gonna be ok." The raptor seemingly blinks, understanding what Iron is saying, and being warmed by the soothe hand of Iron's touch. "I have some business to attend to, you just sit here and relax, gather your strength my friend." Iron continues to the center of the village toward Grozag IV's hut and kicks in the front door, leading with his greatsword. Iron reels back in horror at the sight of all the blood. A gaunt, yellow humanoid with sunken eyes stands before him as he finishes the ritual. "Too late BOY! Althought i'm surprised you returned, it's of little consequence. Our task of delaying your mini-war of good vs evil has worked out to our benefit. Your delays have bought us much needed time and resources. BEGONE!!" With a have of his finger, the Githyanki's telekenitic powers once again prove too strong for Iron as he is flung several hundred yards away from the slain body of Chief Grozag IV, smashing through several buildings at once. The pain is all too much to bear. Each brick against the back is like a hammer on the anvile, but despite his name, he is not made of steal and soon collapses. Iron feels the warmth of breathe against him. The nudge of a muzzle urging him to consciousness. It's the raptor. Iron firmly grabs hold around it's neck and the raptor stands tall, nudging Iron on his back with it's powerful muzzle. Iron pulls himself astride the great beast. "Flee....flee with all due haste my friend. We shall return when our strengths are re-gathered." Iron and the raptor ride out to the burial grounds as he turns to see his village reduced to ash. After hours of prayers and much need for guidance from his elders, Ebelin's body is returned. Ebelin wakes up as though roused from a horrible dream. "What happened?" "You aimed to kill me boy. But i understand your motivation and i do not blame you. It is I who erred. Turned my back on my elders and now the Panza village is no longer. It's all my fault." Why are my memories so foggy? ugh...my head hurts. But i don't think it's all your fault. I think we've been used. We still need to stop Bruno and Brackin from gathering the forces. They could end up catapulting this war, and they have no idea what they are doing. If they succeed they will open a pandora's box of evil that will flood this world like no other." Iron and Ebelin spend the next few nights in quiet meditation as they heal their wounds. Iron plays with the raptor teaching it all sorts of tricks and making sure it's accustomed to his scent. "Chief Grozag IV is dead i'm assuming?" "Yes!" "And what of Bonanza? What fate befell him?" "I did not see. The strange gith flung me across the village before i could do anything. I suspect he was coming to finish me off when Raptor here, dragged me out of town. He saved my life." "You ok to ride now?" "Sure am. I'll go after Bruno, you track down Brackin. He shouldn't be too hard to find. Just look to where the bullies hang out. Have fun spanking that little twerp. "Meet at my fathers house afterwards. We shall discuss strategies anew. And maybe i'll have another word with my new found friend Nevrlokagyft. See what he can remember from his amnesiac days. Ebelin and Iron ride out, seeking their targets. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 07:24 PM | After having finished the long ritual of the ancients, Ebelin opened his eyes. “Elf?” Iron asked cautiously, still not sure if the ressurection was successful for it was the first time he attempted something like that. Slowly the sunelf tried to rise, his limbs still aching from eternal`s rest but Iron helped him to his feet. Ebelin tried to adept his eyes to the twilight – which was still far brighter than where he had been moments before and Iron hoped this phase would end quickly. He wasn`t sure how the Elf would react. After all, he commited necromantic sins, he had been used by evil to further their plans, he had played a major part in the destruction of his village, and then he had killed the one who wanted to stop him from his mad way; why should he forgive him? Moments seemed like hours but finally the bladesinger seemed to recognize Iron. But instead of drawing his blade he gave Iron a warm smile. “Ebelin, I...” The elf layed a hand on Iron`s shoulder “There is no need for words of apology.” – “But I killed ye when ye wanned to stop me from my necromantic way.” – “And still I emerged victorious. You may have quenched my life but I quenched the evil that possessed you and that is all I wanted to do.” The two looked at each other for a long moment. It was Ebelin who broke the silence. “Your village?” – “...is no more. They used me, they fooled me, they sent me away and then they fell upon my innocent people, slaughtering them in a matter of moments. I am alone now.” – “No Iron, you are not alone nor will you ever be if your heart is pure and your intentions even more.” Iron looked to the horizon where the smoke from his smoldering village still rose into the sky and was quiet for a time. “Aren`t ye from the Celestial Forces? Aren`t ye battling the same evil guys who killed my kin?” – “Yes. That is so. Unfortunately the Lich Queen has gained the upper hand with the recent events and I fear all our past victories will turn to dust in a summer breeze.” – “No.” was all Iron answered. Ebelin looked puzzeled. “Hell, Elf, ye`re the one who`s nose sticks deeper in this. Just tell me whom I have to kill!” he roared. Ebelin looked at Iron, apparently thinking about something. “There might indeed be a shimmer of hope. There are currently two armies marching unopposed, unopposed because of the latest events. We might even the odds and turn the wheel of balance to a better angle if these armies would scatter...” – “...like the dust in a summer breeze, eh? But I`m not fer fighting a whole army.” – “You don`t have to. Fear is the glue of evil unions, and fear radiates from the leader.” – “Then let us be the solvent. Name?” – “Bruno Wilikens, a gnome necromancer commands the Squadron Of Doom while the head of the other army is a monk known by the name of Brackin Bonesnapper, leader of the Fists of Hell.” – “Ye`re more versed with the monk stuff. Besides, I may have turned away from necromancy but the knowledge is still in my head so I go fer the gnome.” – “Then it is settled.” The two clasped their wrists and gave a short nod to each other, then Ebelin immideately took to the western sky while Iron jumped onto his new mount and rode eastward. Two days Iron rode at full pace, only stopping twice to take a short break and let his mount eat something and his hurry paid off: he stood on a small hill overlooking a valley where a thousand monsters, undead and otherwordly beings had gathered. Black banners danced in the strong wind and small skirmishes between the monsters were no exception. Most of the monsters slept on the ground or not at all so the great black pavillion in the center gave a good hint where the leader might be. “How do I get ye outa there, ye damn gnome” Iron muttered and Anticus answered with a roar. “Ah, to hell with it!” and with these words Iron charged down the hill... Today was his lucky day. Grug won for the fourth time in a row against Razoring the bearded devil and Checkev, a one-eyed hobgoblin, with whom he sat on a makeshift table and played a game where one has to put his dagger between his outstrechted fingers - without missing them. The orc began to collect his newest prize. The trio was on the outer rim of the camp to guard it against intruders but boredom was the only enemy they faced for what fool would attack an army of this si... *BOOM*. In a matter of splitseconds the cleanly severed head of a bearded devil flew high in the air while a certain hobgoblin`s blind eye remained the only intact part on him after the megaraptors pounce; wooden shards scattered in all directions as the table burst into thousand or more tiny splinters. The whole scene was over so quick that Grug still sat on his crate and counted his silver coins, only now realizing that something just happened. By then, the humongous rider was several hundred feet away. As said, it was his lucky day indeed. Alarm calls went through the camp assisted by a shadowbell which was enough to rouse any living (or undead) creature within two miles. By then the bloody path Iron took was clearly visible: corpses and body parts were scattered in all directions and marked their way like a dried riverbed. Those who crossed the duo`s way was either torn apart by razorsharp claws or cleaved in two by an adamantine greatsword. The army was taken by a complete surprise. Round 1: After the initial shock passed the monsters regrouped and formed a blockade before their leader`s tent while the rest swarmed in from all directions. Apparently they never met a megaraptor else they would have known about their jumping skills. With a leap no one would dare to mention in even the most exagerated stories the pair flew through the air and came crashing down through the pavillions silken roof, losing his greatsword in the process. “What da hell are ye doin’ in ‘ere, ye damn...” but Bruno thought it wiser to skip his talking and cast a spell instead for the rider was closing in with astonishing speed. Anger swelled up in Iron, vengeance the only vocabulary currently available to him thus improving his strength tenfold. Too late he realized that the pillars the gnome stood between were legs of a 18 ft tall skeleton and another pillar – a giant-sized morningstar to be exact – descended on him, a blow that would have destroyed a house. But Iron was a fortress, and one that knew how to pay back aswell. Bruno – despite his recent aquiantance with Evard`s tantacles - has nothing learned about grappling. He also regretted his speech where he told his army that he had secured his pavillion with deadly spells and anyone who even touches it would meet a horrible fate so he could do nothing but try to free himself – futile as it may seem. Fortunately his loyal servant was still there. “Get them damn fiddlers off of me, ye stupid pile o’bones!” and Tony complied. The first attack came crashing down on Iron`s back with tremendous force but the second missed as the megaraptor charged into the giant once known as Gladius. Round 2: The last blow nearly splatted Iron flat on the ground but at least the gnome would be under him so he tried to make sure he would indeed be. Knowing he dealt with a wizard he held his hand over the gnome`s mouth but not having to hear the stupid babbling anymore would have been reason enough. “ANTICUS! GET THE GNOME!” Iron yelled and his new ally complied. Anticus leaped upon the gnome, raked and teared its claws on his skin; its giant mouth teared out a leg and flung it away but miraculously the gnome was still alive, dizzy and blood-covered beyond recognition, but alive. To make matters worse for Iron a gargantuan shadow grew and darkened on the ground and he dared not to look up to see the decending death in the eye. “At least ye go down with me, ye dog.” and with an ancient Panza war cry that could be heard even farther away than the shadowbell he hammered his mailed fist into the gnomes face. The inhuman blow drove the armored fist into Bruno`s skull and transformed the already bloody visage in nothing more than gore. Iron knew his time was up aswell so he closed his eyes for the incoming blow from the giant skeleton. But none came. After a few seconds he opened his eyes again and looked up only to find the huge skeleton standing motionless ...the spiked morningstar having stopped 3 inches above his head. Iron the Panza has fulfilled his mission and is rewarded with [enter new magical items] by the Celestial Forces. Epilogue: Iron could hear the war cries outside the pavillion. He knew he would never make it through the camp alive but at least he would drag a few dozen monsters with him to the Fugue plane. He saddled up on Anticus and padded it on the flank “My loyal steed. So short was our friendship but never have I had a better one. May we meet in the afterlife.” Just as he was about to charge through the entrance a voice came from somewhere in the darkened back of the pavillion. “Bruno!”. The voice sounded like flowing water. “Bruno! Reply! It`s me, Winter`Tok.” Iron led his mount to the direction and found himself infront of some black brass circle, vertically errected. The circle was completely filled with a mass of a dark thick liquid moving like ocean waves. The voice clearly emanated from this device. “We have successfully destroyed that pity barbarian village and I have new orders for you. Hell, Bruno. Reply!” Iron narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps there is still something to do for us, eh Anticus?” and with these words the two friends leaped through the portal... After Bruno`s death became known the monsters fought each other over leadership, killing half of themselves in the process. The rest disbanded as could have been anticipated. The mission was only half finished though for there was still another army roaming the landscape unchecked. But this is another story. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 07:36 PM | Brackin walked along the roadside, seeking to leave the hustle and bloodlust of the Prevekan Arena for a time. The past few weeks had been tumultuous, as he was rendered unconscious or slain by each of his opponents. While Brackin had grown used to such trials, it was a new occurrence, outside of the ring, that had driven him away. As he stumbled out of the healing quarters, having been flattened by Bruno’s servant, he had heard a tiny chuckle, and a blow to the head rendered him quite unconscious. When he awoke, he had found himself pinned to an alley wall by Tony’s brute strength and size, already being taunted by Bruno as his precious potions were precariously perched by the halfling, Bilo. As Bruno insulted, mocked, and berated him, Brackin began to realize the quality of the company he kept, and what dangers such individuals could be to him. Furthermore, as he gazed into the dark eyes of Bruno and Bilo, he saw the raw hatred for life that each of them bore, and wondered if he too could become as terrible a monster as they. Sensing the tiniest weakness in Tony’s grip, he managed to escape the half-pint pair’s “clutches” and now found himself here, along the side of an unused road, searching for answers. Ebelin kept to the edge of the woods, lining the roadside. He had been tracking Brackin for two days since he left Preveka, and had confirmed that the orc known as Brackin Bonesnapper, General of the Fists of Hell, was alone, and potentially vulnerable. Iron’s assault on Bruno proved that the Alliance of Darkness’s leaders could not be kept down long, but their deaths inspired fear in their troops, who often abandoned their cause forever. If Ebelin could slay Brackin, perhaps the Fists of Hell could be scattered to the winds. Brackin’s keen ears suddenly detected the movement of an individual in the bushes. Turning, he was confronted by Ebelin, the monk’s sword pointed at his throat. “Brackin, your band of tyrants have terrorized the people of this nation for too long, and you yourself have brought suffering and terror to many. For these crimes, I sentence you to death, so that the darkness you bring shall vanish forever!” Brackin barely sidestepped the sword-blade as it cut a swath to his throat. He thought to himself, “Perhaps Bruno was right… but I can’t return to his side… I will never return to their side!! If only I can show Ebelin that I don’t want to fight him!” This thought process was put on the back-burner for the moment, as the need to survive overtook Brackin’s mind. Grabbing Ebelin’s arm, he spun him to the ground, unhurt, and took off into the woods, seeking shelter from the merciless Hunter of Light. Ebelin, coughing, stood to his feet, pondering for a moment why Brackin had not pressed the attack. Shrugging these thoughts aside, he took off after the fleeing orc, calling his Ashtaru to his side… Brackin’s flight finally ended in a clearing of willow trees, far from the road he had walked that morning. He ducked behind the spreading branches of a young dogwood, hoping he had lost his pursuer. Ebelin stepped into the grove, his keen eyes spotting the trampled grass and settling dust. Knowing that Brackin’s warriors would soon seek their missing leader, he knew he must move swiftly, and climbed into the branches of a millennia-old willow, hoping his climb would provide an avenue of sight to the hiding orc. Despite his good intentions, Brackin found himself fighting for his life once more. While he intended not to slay the elf, he was sure Ebelin would not grant him the same mercy, and thus he would need to call upon every trick he knew to survive. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew a set of cold-iron bracers, their edges adorned with crimson gilt. Closing the bracers around his forearms, he felt a sharp pain as the spikes lining their interior pierced his flesh, sending diabolic energies surging into his form and filling him with increased vigor. He despaired to wear the Battlements of the Iron-Fisted General once more, but this was life or death. Ebelin climbed higher into the tree, adrenaline surging through his veins as he prepared to engage the fabled Crimson-Clawed Commodore in mortal combat. Brackin dug further into his pack, seeking out the rest of his fiendish armaments. Ebelin climbed higher, balancing carefully on the willow’s thin upper branches, trying to catch a glimpse of his foe. Glancing through the dogwood’s leaves, Brackin watches the branches of the willow sway with the weight of his hunter. In his hand, he holds a smooth, ebony ball, carved of dark marble. He depresses the top of the orb, and it begins to orbit about his head, a shimmering curtain of obsidian chips descending from the revolving orb. Brackin continues to plumb the depths of his pack. Ebelin is nearly at the peak of the willow, and still has not seen his foe. Wary of devilish tricks, he casts his magic into the leaves that surround him, forming five golems that cling to his side, their forms masked by magic to resemble him. Still feeling vulnerable, the orc reached into his travel sack, and withdrew a pair of iron claws; their surface streaked in rust and dried blood. The symbol of his former position as General of the Fists of Hell, these weapons had drunk more than their share of an innocent’s vitality. With much regret, Brackin strapped the deadly claws on. Standing in the tree, Ebelin heard metal clicking from the other end of the grove. With a mighty leap, he jumps to the adjoining tree, coming to stop above a small dogwood in the center of the grove. The elf spotted the Crimson-Clawed Commodore assembling his diabolic weaponry. Glancing up, Brackin spies the elf in the trees, and with a cry of success he pulls out once-beloved helm- The iron facemask bears a resemblance to a snarling cornugon its jagged edges and horns cloaking the monk in an aura of terrible power and cruelty. Unable to bear the sight of such evil artifacts any longer, Ebelin plucks a branch from the bough of an adjoining pine tree. Chanting for a moment, he refines the soft needles into hard, deadly points, each glistening slightly in the afternoon sunlight. With a sweeping gesture, he releases a cascade of needles upon Brackin’s head, their points burrowing through his protective barriers. Brackin winced as the needle’s dig into his skin, and with great determination, he begins to climb the oak tree upon which his foe stands. Ebelin watched the armored orc climb, and leaps higher into the tree, sending down another spray of needles as he back-flips onto a higher branch. Resembling a hedgehog as he climbs, Brackin gently brushes at the needles with his massive hands, calling upon his own chi to close the wounds. To his satisfaction, he begins to heal by his own works, rather than with the assistance of Lower Plane magicks. Ebelin, ever relentless, launches off a final volley of pine needles, the remaining few already losing their steel-like appearance. Brackin frowned as the pain of the needles caused his hand to spasm. Regretfully, he sends a mental command to the iron bracers, ordering them to heal his injuries. The devilish artifacts comply, and force the needles back out of his skin, forcing him to relieve the pain of their entry. Gasping, Brackin begins to climb once again. Ebelin looses the last of the needles, their softening forms only lightly peppering the orc. He then focuses on the denuded branch he held, and gesturing with it, launched a glob of sticky sap at the climbing orc. Brackin dodges the sap globule, watching it strike the ground and sizzle ominously. As he looks up to climb again, he sees a hawk come soaring towards him, its talons crackling with power. Just as it flies in his face, he catches hold of it. As he struggles to keep it away from his face, the revolving orb slams into the bird, causing its attack to go wide. Brackin fears the touch of those claws, and attempts to subdue the bird without causing it harm. With a simple maneuver, he renders it unconscious. Suddenly, his claws began to glow a dull crimson, the growing heat searing his hands. In shock and pain, he loses grip of the helpless bird, and it falls to the ground below, its fragile from broken by the hard earth. Brackin is washed over by a wave of remorse for the death of the bird, but such feelings are not acceptable for the Iron General- The helm began to tighten about his skull, causing him blinding pain until he subdued his own feelings. Ebelin’s body shook with anger as he saw the orc casually cast his friend to the ground, his head snapping back as the pain caused by his familiar’s death washed over him. In a rage, he leaped to the next tree, seeking to have his revenge on the orc. Brackin climbed to the peak of the oak tree, and hid within its eaves, driven by an unconscious desire to fully arm himself. Ebelin turned about, but could see no sight of the Commodore. Fighting back tears, he recited a ritual learned from Jindl, his skin growing the coarse hairs of a bear. His body no longer his own, Brackin’s hands pulled supple white leather boots from his pack. Originally the hide of the luskylar, the white celestial tigers that defend Mount Celestia, these boots were another perversion of good, granting the wearer the stolen grace of the once-majestic beast. Brackin was forced to don the boots, before his hands searched for the rest of equipment. Ebelin was still unable to spot the orc, and so drew a handful of diamond dust from a pouch- scattering it upon his skin, it became as hard as granite, yet remained as supple as normal flesh, granting him protection from the claws of the General. The artifacts now throw a black-furred cloak over Brackin’s shoulders, the fiendish tiger hide thrusting away the spells and arrows of noble opponents. Like a miserable marionette, Brackin continues to dig through his pack. Filled with righteous rage, Ebelin withdraws a scale from his spell pouch, and lays it across his arm. Like a wave, the scale becomes two scales, then five, then 12, until Ebelin’s entire body is covered with them. His arms lengthen and morph, becoming massive, membraned-wings, his feet shape into sharp talons, his face lengthening into a fang-filled snout. Finally, a tail writhes from his back, arching over his massive body, its pointed tip gleaming wetly. With a loud, reptilian cry, Ebelin launches out of the trees, heading for the old oak tree once more… Brackin’s right arm suddenly raises, and drags the tip of the bladed gauntlets across his cheek. The left mimics its brother a few seconds later, and the Crimson Claws, coated in a patina of Brackin’s own blood, begin to extend and twist, growing razor-sharp and cruel, the rust coating flaking away to reveal shining grey steel. As a wyvern, Ebelin now spots Brackin among the tree, bearing even more diabolic equipment then before. Roaring gutturally, the eldritch knight stabs down with his stinger, but its point is sent flying back by a black pulse of energy. Now bearing all of his vile accouterments, Brackin’s body begins to grow, fed by the synergistic malice emitted by the Battlements of the Iron General. Ebelin rains a series of blows upon the Iron General Brackin, biting and scratching, and stabbing and buffeting the monk’s form, but each attack is defeated by the overwhelmingly evil artifacts. Turned to confront the elf, Brackin feels his powerful frame arch back, and watches helplessly as his clawed hand launches towards the elven monk. The blade slashes along the wyvern’s hide, its force greatly defeated by its stony coat. As his other arm raises to hanck at his “foe’s head, Brackin exerts his will and wrenches it back, casuing it to embed in the oak’s massive trunk, mere inches from Ebelin’s snout. Ebelin continues to assault Brackin, a massive wing manages to catch him across the face, blurring the orc’s vision for a moment. Brackin is unsure of what to think- He does not wish to kill Ebelin, but it is certain that the enraged elf would do so, given half a chance. Furthermore, the diabolic armament continued to play havoc with his mind, bombarding him with dark suggestions and demands for blood, violence, and renewed war upon the land’s people. In an effort to stop the coming bloodshed, Brackin attempts to wrestle down Ebelin, hoping to control and subdue his massive form until explanations could be made. Now, however, the orc found his own efforts thwarted, as the artifacts wrenched his arms away from Ebelin, allowing him free access to attack Brackin once more, albeit unsuccessfully. “If I don’t take Ebelin down myself, those artifacts are going to help him kill me!” thought Brackin. Resignedly, he mentally promised the weaponry the blood they demanded, and began to assault Ebelin directly. With a surge of strength, he brought his fist down upon the wyvern’s head, only to have it explode in a cloud of leaves! Furrowing his brow, he watched as his next two blows blew apart the leaf golems that Ebelin had created, sheltering him from the monk’s blows. Brackin ducked as Ebelin’s mouth rammed into the trunk beside him, the elf’s stinger burying just above his own head. The reptilian knight withdrew his head, but not before Brackin drug his claw across the armored snout, digging deeply before being withdrawn. Ebelin roared in pain, scattering the remnants of his leaf golems, as black blood rained into the grove below. He flapped his powerful wings and began to retreat upwards, but the opportunistic artifacts launched a claw into his underbelly, leaving a vicious gash there as well. “Cease that!” commanded Brackin, “this is my fight and I do not require your help!” The artifacts seemed satisfied with this demand, much to Brackin’s relief. “How am I going to pull this off without killing Ebelin?” he wondered. Bunching his devil-enhanced legs, he leaped after Ebelin giving chase before something else could go wrong. Catching up to the wyvern, Brackin moved to ensnare him, when his left hand shot out, carving a bloody line along the elf’s flank. “Damn you!” swore Brackin, “Why won’t you listen to me!” The artifacts pulsed in unison, sibilant whispers answering his cry, “Because we do not trust you, broken one. You have lost your will to fight, and thus your right to live. We will use your form for our own purposes, and when you are broken, we will heave you into a gutter and consume your soul!” Sensing weakness in his opponent, Ebelin spun into the air, bringing a sharp talon raking across the orc’s face. Brackin trembled in anger and fear as control of his body was wrenched from him with deceptive ease. He felt his arms rise together, and slam into Ebelin’s side, each blade drawing ever more blood to rain heavily on the leaves below. Desperate, Ebelin wondered if he had bitten off more than he could chew, taking on the Crimson-Clawed Commodore alone. As he moved to flee, he felt Brackin’s claws rip into him, shattering the last of his stony protection. The orc puppet, Brackin, began to leap through the trees, attempting to corner the faster Ebelin. Finally, he saw the wyvern come to rest in the eaves of the old willow, its sides heaving from exhaustion. As he approached, he watched as Ebelin resumed his natural form, and appeared to be preparing one last spell. The artifacts released a pulse of pleasure in Brackin’s mind, taunting him with the knowledge of the deeds they would commit upon the helpless elf. As his body soared towards the defenseless Ebelin, claws bared to gut him upon landing, Brackin focused intensely on his desire for freedom, gathering upon the famous orcish rage which simmers below the surface of even the most disciplined of their race, and mentally thrust out at the magical reins which bound his body. As he flew towards Ebelin, he twisted his body sideways, and drove the Crimson Claws deep into the heartwood of the willow. Feeling the shock of the armaments at the brutal treatment of their compatriots, Brackin grinned ferociously. Wrenching the blades out of the tree, he ripped them from his arms. Then, with a single half-turn, he pulled the black cloak from his back, and slashed it in half with the held claws. The bracers and helm were wrenched off his form, the points drawing blood as they were pulled from his head and arms. With a shout of triumph, Brackin smashed these items into the willow’s trunk, driving them deep into its heart as the blow buckled and twisted them. The marble orb was snatched and crushed between his fingers in a savage, rag-borne squeeze, as the boots were shredded by their bladed comrades. With a final heave, Brackin shoved the stone, cloth, and metal fragments into the tree, and stood there, his form washed over by exhaustion. The orcish rage seeped swiftly from his body, which had begun to shrink as the evil artifacts were destroyed. Brackin turned to Ebelin, whose final spell had been but a message to his comrades, and helped him to his feet. Stunned by the display of righteous violence by his supposed foe, Ebelin quickly regained his senses as Brackin spoke to him. “I wish for you and your compatriots to know that I am no longer the General of the Fists of Hell, and that I have turned my back on Bruno and Bilo’s unholy alliance. However, I am not conviced that my path lies with you and your Consortium either, elf, so I ask only that I am permitted to go in peace.” Ebelin cocks his head at the strange orc, then smiles. “I understand, one known as Brackin Bone-snapper, for we all have our own paths to follow. I will inform my comrades that you are to be left alone, and even trusted, for you have spared my life when I was at your mercy. I trust that you will find peace on your path, whether it merely crosses my path, or one day rides along side of it. Go in peace, Brackin Mercy-Giver, for you are deserving of such a reward.” With these words, Ebelin turns and leaps to the grove floor. Whistling, he turns his head as Ashtaru, unhurt, rejoins him at his side. Leaning his head against the old willow, Brackin wonders what the future hold for him… A blood-soaked history is a difficult burden to rid oneself of, but Brackin believed he would be rid of it. No matter what it took, he knew he had the strength to see it through… He would have peace, someday. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 07:47 PM | As the gate opened before Hanz the bright blinding rays of the sun made his still darkness acustomed eyes unable to see anything but light but the ear-deafening symphony of crowd cheerings that assaulted his ears turned all doubts aside that the arena wasn`t filled up to the last seat. He held up a hand to his forehead to help his vision adept to the brighter illumination outside, then stepped out in the sandy open which is the ARENA!!! Hanz Vonnegut sat in his dim-lit room and memorized the last spell of his slim repertoire. “Too bad half my spells are stuck in my head for the last days” he silently moaned, referring to the new Mo-Virus that befell all prepared casters. At least, he thought, his opponoment is infected, too. He closed his spellbook as well as his eyes and tried to focus inward. He could hear the distant drums outside – sounding in harmoneous patterns, he could feel the vibration caused by the thousands of people waiting for the fight to begin and all far too eager to see spilled blood, for his taste. Spilled blood. Like so many times his thoughts drifted to the slaughter of his brother by his own hands; enchanted he was by that treacherous companion of evil Bruno and one day he`ll get him. “Sssssssssss”. The sibilant hiss of his own familiar roused him from his painful memories and brought him back to the present task that lay before him: a raging barbarian dwarf with uncanny insight and divine power at his dispossal, a fearsome foe indeed. Hanz always felt very nervous before a fight to the death and the sheer power of his opponoment didn`t do much to comfort him. A knock on the door told him that it was time so he gathered his equipment, stored his potions, checked his scrolls, and went for the door... Outside in the arena a completely different mood was going on: Thousands crowded themselves together, singing battle songs while holding up colored banners, obviously trying to show whom they favor. Colorblind Spike wasn`t impressed by that as he stood down on his starting position where he was being interviewed by an all-to-known reporter. Candessa: “...thank you Joe. Now I have with me one of the toughest gladiators the arena has to offer...Spike, the mountain dwarf. Spike, how do you feel when so much people have come to visit your prowess in battle?” Spike: *BUUUUUURRRRRP* Candessa: “Errr, yes, I guess that meant ‘good’. According to the bets you are set as the hot odds-on favorite in this fight. A few words from you perhaps?” Spike: “Them darnn audience know how’da put da money of theirs to good use.” having grasped the meaning of Candessa`s emphasized word. Candessa: “Why indeed. As being still undefeated many see you as the new Alathar Vierce.” Eyecandy continued but Spike`s attention was already focused on the crowd ranks behind him with whom he – fist shaking – exchanged a rudest-dwarf-insult competition. Candessa: “Ok, so much from Spike. Now back to the moderator`s box. Joe?” Joe: “Thanks Candy. Let`s have a look at Spike`s record. His first victim was Jagath Kir who`d better have stayed in his forest than confronting this mountain rock. Next on the list I see Tomah the Iceman, frozen for 10.000 years he woke up just to become dwarf food; we all remember the sad story where Spike refused to give out half of Tomah`s body. What`s your opinion on that, Al?” Alathar: “Seems like Tomah`s being back to his accustomed surrounding: frozen in Spike`s refrigator. Didn`t care about that one anyway.” Joe: “You say it, Al. Let`s see, Sir Roger and his wonderhorse were very lucky not to share the same fate due to heavy fines Spike had to pay over the Tomah incident. At least he didn`t end up in Spike, in the very meaning of the word.” Alathar: “Yeah, remember well him chasing the horse, butcher`s knife in hand. Too funny that one.” Joe: “Hanz’ record on the other side isn`t too bad either. It is rumored that he killed his brother before coming to the arena.” Alathar: “That evil little kid hopefully gets what he deserves. Kin should always be held high for blood is stronger than anything else.” Joe: “I`m not sure if Hanz’ evil at all. Seems like he has had a hard time lately for guilt and all haunts him constantly.” Alathar: “Pah. I think I`ll give him a hard time and just`ll rip his head of after the fight... if the dwarf hasn`t already.” Joe: “Speaking of the dwarf, he`s being bombarded with toilet paper from the ranks. Seems like he hasn`t many friends there. Al, do you think he succeeds in his attempt to climb the wall up the ranks?” Alathar: “.....” While a fuming Spike was trying to rake up the wall to a laughing audience a creaking sound attracts attention: the second gate swings wide and reveals a slim lone figure – sunlight reflected by his rapier. Hanz walked up to his position all the while scanning the audience and their different reactions towards him. He pulled out a deck of cards and spoke a few words which obviously carried some magic in it – else it would be a very impressive trick to let 52 cards flip up in the air from the outstreched palm. In the same fluid motion Hanz drew his rapier and thrust it upward, impaling 51 cards on his weapon while the last one – the ace of spades of course – is balanced edge up at the top. The crowd is that astonished by this incredible feat of swordplay that they stare open-mouthed at the cards, not being able to realize what Hanz just did. One of the dumber spectators was only now by the drawing of the rapier which caused his cerebral cortex to cease function and he died of stupidy. That spoiled Hanz’ mirth though for he had another innocent`s blood attached to his hands. Spike was still trying to climb up the ranks while toilet paper rained down on him. He answered with spitting at the spectators and succeeded in hitting himself – not that this did much to worsen his peronal magnetism, it did make the crowd laugh all the louder though. But Spike was one of the brightest dwarfs ever born so he picked up his bow and took aim. The first dead spectator hadn`t hit the floor yet as the audience dispersed in all directions, except for Toad, Irlina`s newest guinea pig, who thought himself cunning to have himself protected with a Spell immunity (Arrows) dweomer he bought from his manager to the left. Putting all concerns aside he even ignored the shaft that quickly closed in on him and all the more surprised he was as the arrow hit him directly at the head. He was even more surprised of still being alive for the arrow obviously bounced of his thick dwarven skull and did little damage. He just wanted to eat on as he caught a glimpse of a limp form next to him sagging to the ground – the deflected arrow produting from now-dead Irlina`s chest. A familiar sound – the countdown bells – let Spike stop his shooting, look up and hurry back to his starting position. Round 1: As the final bell rang Hanz went into motion, initiating a sideward sommersault followed by a cartwheel and a flying forward roll afterwards which was of course completely unnecessary for there was nobody nearby. He drew his book of indoor athletics to doublecheck the proper execution of this technique and was rewarded with new tumble insights. Too late Spike reached his starting position where an innocent old horse grazed. As Spike was just about to pass by it another bright idea crossed his mind and he initiated an intercept course towards the quadraped one. The horse had apparently means to detect thoughts and panicked into a dead run but Spike managed to grab the reins and was dragged behind the neighing beast. Not having made thoughts how to stop the darnn thing Spike engaged his plan B and tried to slow it down with an entangle. Unfortunately the same moment he pointed at a spot in front of the galloping horse he was draged over a small boulder which spoiled his aim. Hanz was just about to laugh because of the misaimed spell as weeds and bushes digged their way up through the ground right under his feet. He let his book drop and sprang high up in the air thus evading the entangling bushes. Just as he thought himself lucky he remembered the effects of gravity and landed right on the same spot within the weed field. Round 2: Hanz thought it would be better to leave the weeds for the gardeners to tend and went northward behind a boulder where he could better analyse the situation. He quickly decided that a hit from the massive dwarf could be really painful and cast a spell on himself. Spike meanwhile almost managed to get the mare to a stop but then another unlucky occurance let him lose the scroll he just wanted to cast as another boulder passed out under him. He kicked the mare in the flanks to get it moving again. The horse had its own mind: a new vast feasting table spread out as far as its old eyes could see and nearly made its heart broke. It offered a silent prayer to whatever god a horse worships and began with an extended meal. Spike realized that the horse was more bullheaded than his first cousin Groll so he grummeled something into his beard and looked for anything to exact his anger upon. Just as he wanted to take the horse as his chosen target he heard some offending singing nearby. Following the boys choir he spotted a youth behind a boulder. A wicked grin formed on his gap-toothed mouth as he drew his bow again and fired but dwarfs favor the crossbow for a reason. Hanz didn`t even realize he was being made a makeshift deer for he was far too busy evading the weeds and mistook the crowd`s laughter for his jumping up and down through the persistent undergrowth. Round 3: Despite Hanz and the weeds being best friends now he decided to better say goodbye and head to the next cover in form of a 200 feet high massive pillar. The specialists who analyzed the match afterwards weren`t sure if he was actually trying to move silently or deafen nearby bystanders. Just before Hanz exited the area the last weed held fast to his left shoe and made him fell facedown behind the pillar ...and out of Spike`s sight. Even Spike – deaf as a weaponsmith – hadn`t missed the cacaphony of pain as Hanz’ every step through the thorny rosebed was emphazised by an “Ouch...ouch...ouch” but he couldn`t see the boy. He stroked his dirty beard and thought what his cousin Groll would do in this situation... Round 4: Hanz risked a glance around the pillar and rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he saw the dwarf holding his guisarme out, a carrot attached at the top, which obviously motivated the mare in moving forward along the perimeter of the weed field. He made a giggle that would have made Cliodhna proud but that died in mid-mirth as the mare including battle-ready mountain dwarf rounded the edge of the bed and turned into his direction. He decided to hit two flies with one bat and drew a scroll of grease. Spike now saw the singing clown holding a piece of paper from where he obviously got all that stupid song ideas. He narrowed his bushy eyebrows, stroked through his greasy hair and decided to deprive him of the source of this annoying song: his vocal chord. It would`ve been a perfect plan hadn`t he touched his oil-soaked hairbreads a moment before for as he grabbed his guisarme again his hands were so slippery that he couldn`t hold fast to the shaft: the guisarme slipped from his hands, went up in the air where Spike was again trying to catch it, succeeded only in flipping it again and again in the air. His unintended juggling with the weapon was apparently a crowd pleaser but the point went to Hanz’ account. Spike had a hard time to decide between picking up his weapon or running the fool through but he gave in to the devil on his left shoulder who told him to tear the boy apart – not that the devil on the other side suggested something else. So came it that the massive dwarf charged towards Hanz but Hanz still had a good picture of his tumble-book and made a backward roll that would`ve made the author proud. Round 5: ...so everyone thought. But this move was just a diversion and Hanz actually still stood at the same space. Not able to twig the whole maneuver another spectator died for not getting onto it. Spike wasn`t that much affected but fooled nethertheless and most of the spectators couldn`t hold their belly as the dwarf bent over and searched for Hanz under the horse. The laughter increased tenfold as Hanz reminded him of his presence by stabbing his rapier in Spike`s buttocks and with the assistance of the crowd he made his rapier strike true. The odds seem to favor Hanz but a dwarf without a weapon is still a dwarf, especially with spikes produting from every inch and the bearer made use of them. Hanz just bowed to the south curve as Spike fell backward from the horse and on his way down he dealt Hanz a viscious scratch across the whole back. Round 6: Irlina had a long moment of dizzyness but when her senses returned she found herself sitting on the same spot but her surroundings had changed drastically: she was still in the arena sitting on her VIP seat but there were no other spectators. The whole place was a foggy one; where there once shone bright sunrays through the summer-opened arena roof there no was a gigantic whirling vortex of mist and also the whole complex seemed to constantly blur. Because Irlina had about as much knowledge of the Fugue Plane as with gladiator management she wasn`t all too worried about that all. A familiar voice roused her from her theory (>I fell asleep, all people left and the weather went bad<). “Look whom we have here.” Though the voice was far more hollow than the last time she heard it, Irlina instantly knew to whom it belonged to. “If this isn`t my former manager Irlina” Tanya said... Feeling the burning on his back Hanz stepped a step to the side and began to sing in his choir voice but this time the last word ”VITRINENTÜR” carried a magical effect: a black ray sprang from his hand and hit Spike straight in the chest. The positive aspect was that Spike was that startled by the black ray that he hopped from his prone position back into the saddle and left all bystanders, including Hanz, gasping open-mouthed at this incredible feat. On the negative side Spike felt his strength fading and longingly looked back to his precious guisarme but the oily film that reflected the sunlight told him that it still wasn`t usable. But his fist was. Both his devils cried for vengeance and helped infuriating him to the point where the first spectators decided that it would be saver to leave the ranks and as his eyes finally went white from rage his gauntlet sped forward and with a thundering “BOOM” the massive pillar cracked. Round 7: Hanz feared that the pillar is about to collapse from this awsome blow but then he remembered who the original target was. He made one-two-three quick strokes in the air – the dwarf dodging them and also the fourth one which didn`t come so he skipped the fifth which was actually a straight forward thrust that penetrated Spike`s armor in a weak spot. Spike answered the crowds laughter with the middle finger and was rewarded with an orchester of booing. He started to run in the direction of the crowd and wanted to jump 30ft up to them but them it occurred to him that something in this plan might not work so Hanz – being the only person in range – saw another powerful strike flying in his direction. Round 8: Joe: “Test...test...yeah, we`re back. Sorry to all our listeners but Al broke the magic mic and it took us a while to get a new one.” Alathar: “Did this for a reason, pal” Joe: “Anyway, it seems that Hanz is doing quite fine down there, eh Al?” Alathar: “Pah. A single clean hit from the dwarf will drop the comedian.” Joe: “Hope it doesn`t come to that. The audience seems to like him and I have to admit that I hope for Hanz, too. Candy, my dear, what`s going on on the spot?” Candessa: “Yes Joe, Hanz just fooled Spike again and dealt him another cut to the leg. Obviously the dwarf doesn`t care about the stabs but doesn`t about hitting his opponoment either. What worries me most though is the horse which futily tries to get free of the raging dwarf while kicking and biting the air. I have with me the owner of the horse. Tulba, what is your opinion on the fight?” Peasant Tulba: *waves hands* “Harrr, was just talkin’ to da merchan’ when me poor Dozen’s been stolin’ away. I pray to ye please get me good horse outa there or thy dwarf`ll ruin her day. I beg ye...” Candessa: “Wait a moment. Your horse is called Dozen?” Peasant Tulba: “Aye. Didn`t come up with tha name meself though. Found them horse one day on’a edge of da forest, totally went to seed, if ye ask me. Dozen's been burned in’its flank so me found`s da name a good one. Took the mare in, neglected as’it was, but no one gonna call me no friend of animals. Ever heard the name Jindl, by da way?” Joe: “K, Candy, time`s up. We have to get back to the fight.” Round 9: Hanz bathed in the cheers the audience threw at him. Harmoneous claps to the rhythem and the calling of his name by thousands in perfect unison spurred him to cloud 9. He executed a full turn then another and another pirouette with the only person getting dizzy was Spike and as he began to make unintended pirouettes himself Hanz stabbed the spinning dwarf in his back. Luck was on Spike`s side though for as he made his circles around himself he got a glance of his guisarme which ceased to reflect the sunlight. His heart made a leap of joy as he darted towards the weapon but not before Hanz finished the “X” he just cut across Spike`s back. The dizzieness not quite over he couldn`t keep his balance and fell from the horse much to the relive of the beast which took the opportunity to dart away but Spike absentmindly held fast to the reins thus spoiling all horse-dreams of freedom. Round 10: Hanz thought the dwarven retreat to be a perfect opportunity to continue his vocal training. He cleared his throat, took out another song paper and recited the notes: “Voll den Schwachsinn schreib ich hier, dadumm dadumm”. He finished the first stanza and as he reached the refrain “BACKOFENBLECH!!” he had his body and mind attuned to unity and order. “STOP...THAT....NOISE!!” Spike fumed while white foam came out of his mouth. “Now I pay ye back in full!” he announced and kicked the poor horse in the flank. As the metal boot made its way towards the mare Spike remembered his cousin Groll saying to saddle up first so he grabbed for the reins the same moment the boot connected and what followed was a masterpiece of dressage. The strange crying noises Spike gave away made many spectators doubt that this maneuver was an intended one. The horse broke into a charge while Spike stood up in the saddle, one boot in the air aswell as his left hand while the other one was holding the reins but somehow he managed to keep his balance. When he reached the astonished Hanz he brought his guisarme around but that would be too great a feat. Hanz got hit though that round but that wasn`t on purpose. On a far away plane someone else had completely different problems. “Oh Tanya, you don`t need a ressurection insurrance.” Tanya 3 anounced, imitating Irlina. “Yeah” the last of the Tanya quintett threw in “That inssurance isn`t worth the money it is written upon.” she quoted her past-time manager. “Ahem, ladies, surely you...you do me wrong. I can`t explain the complexity of gladiator management to you but you have to trust....” – “TRUST YOU????” Duran Darkskull rumbled, half of his skull cleaved away “ARE YOU KIDDING??? LOOK AT WHAT YOU`VE DONE TO US!!!” Diana nodded in silent agreement for her throat was ripped out so long ago. It was Ydaf who spoke aloud her thoughts “We`ll drag`er to a proper court. Don`t worry boss, though the charges are nearly endless ye`ll get a trial and I`ve just a perfectly fitting unbiased supreme judge in mind”. Ydaf`s grin prevented Irlina from blewing out a sigh of relief and as she turned around towards the direction everyone was looking at her heart fell: behind her was a makeshift courtroom and a visciously grinning Markus Letiv the Lawyer sat on the judge`s chair... Round 11: Having evaded the viscious guisarme by a hairs breadth only and having received a kick in the nats from the out-of-control horse he began to take this whole combat more seriously and remembered the dwarf for the mighty foe he was. He took on a defensive stance but continued his until now quite successful tactic. The rapier flashed again inches away from Spike who tried to parry the feint but blocked nothing and nothing he blocked as the real stab came. That last attack was too much for the horse and as Spike was distracted for just an instant the beast went through and galloped away. Dispite his rage Spike realized that he had more cuts than not and that another hit would kill him as soon as his anger fades so he didn`t resist the horse that took him far away from combat. He closed his eyes and calmed himself down a bit which made him more receptive for the painful wounds he already got. Instinctively he fumbled for a scroll. Round 12: Hanz didn`t disagree with a small break and used this opportunity to draw another paper. It opened with a greater calumny, went over to a jarring stanza which ended with a final note ”HÄKELARBEIT” and where there`s Häckelarbeit true protection isn`t far either! Spike meanwhile managed to get the scroll out of his tube, evoked the mystic magic stored within and the pimple that bothered him for so long now vanished. Round 13: Hanz realized that there wasn`t much he could do to stop the lightning-fast horse so he dropped his rapier and drew his longbow which he aimed at the distant spot – who was pressing two fingers at something on his face – and let fly. The arrow crossed the whole dome before it ended the fight. Hanza “The Stanza” Bonanza is awarded with a letter written royal recommendation to enter the celestial choir which comes with a 4000 gold piece scholarship. Epilogue: The lack in Markus Letiv's options if she pledged guilty or guilty, the murderous looks on her former employees shouting “VENGEANCE!” all the time in perfect unison and the fact that they all sharpened their ghost weapons were just some of the reasons Irlina thought running away a wise choice. That was three days ago and she was still running at full speed without having stopped once for a break but fear and the fact that she didn`t get fatigued in the least let her pace on over the endless wastes which is the Fugue Plane. Finally she came upon a great building, a ruined one but still very impressive, and she risked making a stop to investigate this strange place. The building seemed to have once been some kind of cathedral, rich stained glass windows – most of them broken – decorated the walls where uncountable stairs led up and vanished in the heigths of the grand temple. A massive organ played an eerie music in A-minor but no one seemed to sit behind the great instrument. After another couple of steps she came upon a raised dais with a collosal throne made of bones on it but still no one was in sight. Then a voice. “Whhhhaaattttt-isssss-itttttt youuuuuu wannnnnttttt frommmm-mmeeeee?” She turned around and found herself dwarfed by a 15ft tall version of the Harvester, scythe in hand and his robes flowing despite the lack of even the tiniest gust of wind. “Ah Mr. Harvester. I`m glad that I`ve found you, you know, it was a long trip from there to here, wherever that was and wherever I might be now but I guess this must be your lucky day for I am glad to offer you the deal of your life, or whatever one might describe your condition.” The Harvester`s head followed Irlina`s hands who searched her pockets and finally took out some sheets of preprinted paper all the while speaking... “Yes yes you heard right, I am here to take you on as my gladiator, a formidable offer indeed, surely you agree to this one-time chance. Look, you just have to sign here...and here...” The upheld hand of the Harvester stopped her in midsentence “Jusssssst waiiiitttt-aaaa mommmmmmennnnnt heeeeerrrrrre. I jusssst havvvvve toooo fetttttchchchchch myyyyy quiiiillllll.” and with these words the giant went to the next room. 2 minutes later every denizen in the vincinity scattered with top speed into all directions as they saw the Harvester silently climb out of a window of his sanctuary and – his robe holding high – running of as fast as he could. Surely no one wanted to confront the entity that scarred the Harvester from his home... |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 07:50 PM | „And here we have - in the center of the cardiovascular system – the Bronchial Alevolus, right next to the lungs. It`s the balloon-like sac through which the pulmanory veins pump the oxygen needed to live.” Professor Vandaeris Dre’Dandrahl explained to the small group of students gathering around him. “If you... Mr.Fenrig-Leval, I hope I do not bore you.” - “Err, no Professor, I ..I just ...it`s just that I never saw an opened corpse before, really I would like to learn how to...” – “Perhaps you can tell us what cause of death we have here?” – “Err yes, I`ll try. Well, the spine vertebra has been severly damaged due to heavy pressure as is the Thorax system and there are several broken bones aswell. But think all these fractures were either too minor to kill the object or have been dealt after death.” Vandaeris raised an eyebrow. “Errr, I... there are these hyperstimulated nerves at the cardiac plexus down to the central nerve system, apparently the result of a tremendous electrical shock.” Ishtial looked at his professor in hope he had correctly analysed the facts. “Well Mr.Fenrig-Leval, it seems like you did your homework but the cause of death is... Brackin Bonesnapper. Armed with a shocking grasp spell.” A giggle went through the student`s ranks. “Sometimes the solution is more obvious than it first seems, and with these words today`s lecture comes to an end.” The combinened table-knocking told Vandaeris that the students found this lesson – as always – interessting and entertaining. As the last one has left the laboratory he turned to the corpse “...and now, Mr.Gage, let`s see if there are not some organs of yours better suited for my test tubes.” and were it not for the sonic isolation in the walls Vandaeris’ laughter would`ve been heard throughout the complete faculty... It was perhaps two hours past midnight when Vandaeris left the faculty of Dargenfest Hall, locked the doors and summoned a horse for the short trip home. As he rode through the dark campus park he heard a stick snap. Of course he couldn`t see all too far in the dim illumination provided by the continual light lanterns lining the peeble path. Just to be sure he mumbled a few arcane gestures under his breath which resulted in a protective spell and led his horse on. As a bat flew by him he laughed to himself for his precautious nature. Another snap! “Well” Vandaeris anounced aloud “obviously this should be some kind of stealth attempt – poorly executed, no doubt here but I would prefer to discuss the matter at hand for whoever you might be you are surely a civilized person.” More snaps could be heard, this time obviously not attempting to move silently and the cursing dialect that came from the dark of the park confirmed this: “Harr, darnn ye an’ yer snapin’ sticks ‘ere. Ain’t gonna hide ‘ere no longer anyway” could be heard and a second later a dirty dwarf came into view, covered over and over with bushes and weeds in an attempt to emulate a ranger. “Ah Mr.Toad, right? Let us forget the last part of my previous sentence. You are one of my students, aren’t you?” – “Bah! Ain’t no darnn corpse digger. Just bluffed meself in there t’prove yer doin’ dirty work down there and me eyes proved me right.” – “Surely you understand the necessity to determine causes of death or the researching of the humanoid anatomy to find better healing methods and help the whole community. Well, maybe you don`t. Of course if you want to discuss this matter you are free to come to one of my office hours.” – “Office ‘ours? To hell with ye!” and with these words he leveled a wand at the professor and triggered the command word. A lonely red bolt shot from the wand and sped towards its target but a split second before it connected with Vandaeris’ body a shimmering field of force flared up and blocked the Magic missile before vanishing again. “Mr.Toad, I`m surprised. I thought you wouldn`t have enough wits to properly use the wand as a back scraper but then, perhaps you just confused the it with a chicken leg and triggered it by mere coincidence.” Vandaeris said and spurred his mount forward and quickly left the slow dwarf behind. As he reached the gates of the park he found them closed, locked and barred with a barricade of empty beer barrels, obviously once being filled and in the possession of the dwarven hedgehog behind him. The next gate showed the same symptoms and as Vandaeris rode back to where he came from he just arrived in time to wittness the last barrel being put in front of Faculty Gate. “Ha! Now yer stayin’ ‘ere an when me’s sayin’ ‘ere me means ye`re stayin’ ‘ere fer a long time!” Toad announced and released another Magic missile from his wand but this time no shield appeared to protect the lecturer. Grimacing, he quickly renewed his protection, just in time as another bolt dispersed against his invisible shield. “Mr.Toad, I`m glad that you want to practise magic but let me show you how to properly use this spell” Vandaeris anounced “and since you gave me two of your precious red balls I`ll give you back the same.” Two Magic missiles impacted and sent the dwarf a feet back or two. “Oh and since this spell is getting a bit boring let me show you another one.” Vandaeris followed through with the gestures and released a black ray, greatly weakening the fuming dwarf. On all the world there`s perhaps nothing as dangerous as an angry dwarf, especially one who is armed with a makeshift club from the barricade. Toad charged towards the professor, made a little hop that lifted his massive form from the ground and hit the necromancer directly on the head. “HA! Perhaps now ye`re clear again up there, eh?” But Vandaeris disagreed as quite the contrary was the case. The world span around him for a second or three but he had enough senses left to guide the horse away from the unexpected danger. “STOP!! Ye filthy dog!!” Toad shouted and ran after the horse “Come back ‘ere an let us finish this!” but by then Vandaeris was far out of reach. After sprinting for a few seconds a panting, gasping and wheezing Toad gave up, bent over to prop his hand on his knees and tried to gather enough breath to soothe his wildly beating heart. He also thought this a good opportunity to heal and did so. But then, completely unexpected as it was, the rider returned – obviously cured of the damage aswell and with a blue glowing hand. He quickly dismounted and approached an eye-brow raising dwarf. “Mr. Toad, you seem to be a bit out of training, so it seems. You are lucky that I am well versed in the art of healing so if you could just stay still for a moment?” Toad answered with a cry and a swing with his club but this time it bounced of of the magical protection surrounding the professor who reached out and touched Toad on the breast. A wave of cold surged through Toad`s body and turned the last doubts away that the professor could`ve spoken the truth when he said “healing”. He tried to bat the laughing human away but every strike was blocked by a field of force. Not so Vandaeris’ hand. Again and again he hit the dwarf who now felt even weaker from the numbing cold. After a few moments he stopped his futile attacks and focused more on healing himself. Half a minute later the blue glow faded which didn`t Toad give new strength but new hope. This time he aimed for Vandaeris legs and was surprised to penetrate his defenses. “Ouch. Mr.Toad, please. Let us discuss this matter as the gentlemen I am and stop these aggressive attitude. There ought to be enough wit left in you to see the wisdom in my words.” *swoosh* “Well perhaps not. I`m sorry Mr.Toad but it is late and I have better things to do.” and with these words and an icy ray he finished the discussion. A few seconds later the persistent bat lay dead on the ground, too – burned by magic missile impacts. “Oh and Mr.Toad, I also have an appointment for you. Perhaps you can help me remove this barricade here” Vandaeris said. He made a few non-core gestures and the corpse began to move again – this time far more calm and obedient, his eyes robbed of all life. “Let’s go back to my laboratory. I am curious which treasures lie hidden beneath this skin.... ....muahahahhahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa aaahahahhahaaaa” Vandaeris Dre’Dandrahl is declared the winner. After having dissected the most precious parts from his body, tattoed “Dwarves are stupid” on his back and having him used in various experiments, he sold Toad’s corpse to the Bonesnatcher’s Guild which earned him 1700 Gold pieces. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:03 PM | Deep within the endless High Forest, behind the Lost Peaks and the Star Mounts Y’landrothiel and N’landorshien, is a ring of albino trees called the Dire Woods. Inside the outer ring of pale oaks stands a thicker ring of blackened and petrified trees, all sprouting from reddish soil. Those who pace around the outside of the Dire Wood find that it meassures only four miles in circumference. Those who enter the wood find that it expands as they travel dozens upon dozens of miles deeper with no end in sight. At the very heart of this cursed wood lies a mysterious place where not even the boldest abominations dare to approach, a glade that emanates a circle of magical chaos. It is said that when the moon is full and a summer solstice is near a ghostly building appears on this glade, leading to an ancient dungeon known as the “Broken Halls” and filled with riches and terrors beyond imagination. It is long forgotten who build this dungeon, and why, but it is rumored that anyone who successfully manages to find it and reaches its Grand Hall is rewarded with a wish, far exceeding mortal magic. Despite much guessing and circumventing rumors there is one thing for sure: no one who dared to seek out this place ever returned. - Prof.Dre’Dandrahl, quoting during a lecture from the “Book of lost Dungeons”, written by Royal Explorer Struyan Turelin. *knockknock* “Please come in” Cliodhna entered the dimly lit and rich decorated living room, Ebelin`s favorite place within his mansion. The bladesinger sat infront of the hearth, feet resting on a second seat. A couple of books littered the floor while he himself held three at once, a fourth resting in his lap. “Busy?” Cliodhna offered after a few seconds to have her old friend look up from his apparently most interesting lecture but it was her giggling that helped Ebelin identifying her immideately. “Sweet water and light laughter” he greeted her back, now looking at the young smiling priestess. He retracted his feet from the second seat and offered her to sit down but Clio prefered the armrest on Ebelin`s chair. “Now, show me what`s so interesting that it makes you ignore your favorite princess” she asked. “Most interesting indeed. I have found clues about ancient House Barnahdy.” – “I thought all of your kin were killed in the attack on Evermeet?” – “Yes. At least the ones on the island.” Ebelin cryptically replied, obviously beginning to become lost in thoughts again. The clearing of Clio’s throat roused him again “Oh, yes. I mean, we didn`t always reside on Evermeet. When the days were young my ancestors lived in Myth Drannor. After the darkness had destroyed it most of them retreated to the Island Kingdom – most of them, but not all. It seems that there might still be living members of House Barnahdy walking under the sun, members who were seperated from our kin for more than one elf`s lifespan! This would change everything for me.” Ebelin closed the books and stood up. “But I`m lost in thoughts. Now, tell me my valarin-merdil, what is it that leads your way here during the time of the moon and the stars?” – “I have also found something most interesting” Cliodhna said, rising too. “During my daily studies I stumbled upon something that might take your mind of your worries.” and with gleeming eyes, she handed Ebelin a book with a leaf marking a certain page. When Ebelin had finished reading the passage he looked up “And you want me to accompany you on this adventure?” – “Yes! Think of all the fun we might have! And there is a reward worth mentioning! Come on Eb! Please!” The noble bladesinger folded his arms behind his back and turned towards the window. “Perhaps there is more behind this recent interest for adventure?” Clio sighed. “Yes. You are right. My father wrote me a letter. He wants me to prove myself worthy of being an elven princess. My brothers were all out adventuring or fighting some important battles before they died while I have accomplished nothing similar. Ebelin, I just want to make my father proud of me. I want him to know that I am worthy, that I am prepared to be an elven princess and maybe queen one day and this adventure might be the first step. But I can`t do it alone. I need your sword and your presence as a friend. Now, I ask you again: will you help me?” The bladesinger was quiet for a long moment. After another few seconds Ebelin turned back to Cliodhna and looked her directly in the eyes. Then, without looking away he pointed a finger at his sheated longsword resting above the hearth which instantly flew into his extended hand and with a smile he answered. “Why not.” ... The stink of brimstone filled the air. Jagath Kihr followed the tracks through the thickly forested High Forest with a sense of trepidation, knowing that if he didn`t ere about the creature’s heritage and destination great danger was at hand. Despite the heavy foliage covering the land, Jagath moved gracefully, not slowed down in the least. After another hour his fears were made reality: the tracks led into the cursed section of the High Forest. His concern wasn`t about entering the Dire Woods but about a creature entering it at this specific time. Jagath Kihr belonged to the Brotherhood of the Bow, a loose organization of rangers dedicated to protect the forest from harm and he was sure that his prey didn`t bring the trees any good. He followed the tracks for two days now and like him, the creature didn`t slow down, rest or even sleep once in this time. It ate nothing. It drank nothing and none of the fierce animal predators dared to approach it. And then there was this strange smell that the creature left in its wake. Jagath increased his pace, knowing any delay would keep him from catching up to his foe. He kept his stride long and measured, crossing through the forest with the silence of a shadow. Occasionally he heard his traveling companion pass through the brush behind and to the left. He had to keep up! “A wish?” Ebelin asked her. “Yes! And you can wish for everything you want!! What is it you would wish for?” Cliodhna wanted to know while they walked across a grassy plain. The sun stood high on the sky and warmed the earth below, a mild summer breeze blew through their hair. “I would like to know if there are truly living ancestors of House Barnahdy and the place where the stars shine on them.” Ebelin replied without hesitation. “And what is it the young princess would wish for?” Cliodhna obviously had made up her mind about that long before she entered her friend`s mansion three days ago for she answered even more quickly though with a sadness in her voice “My mother gave birth to three sons and two daughters, one of them being me. The two firstborn fell on the battlefield and to an assassin’s blade, respectively. My little sister is too small and unfocused to be a proper heir to the throne which leaves me with this unwanted burden. There is however my other brother, Theron d’Elrich, an elven hero of great renown. Sadly he is missing since a decade now and most of our kin have given up hope that he may return, but not me! I know, deep in my heart I know that he is still alive, fighting some far away war for the good of the people.” Cliodhna went into thoughts and a minute or two passed until she spoke again... “I would wish Prince Theron would return.” Cliodhna looked up “But there is only one wish to be granted until the Halls fall quiet for a decade or more.” Ebelin took her hands in his and smiled at her “Your heart is filled with greater desire than mine, except for the one to see you happy. If there is truely a wish to spare then I want you to be the one whom the boon is given to.” Jagath`s heart fell again, knowing that he would find yet another body only a short distance ahead. He`d been finding them for the last three hours and all had one in common: they were nearly shred to pieces. Their murderer didn`t kill them for food, nor in self-defense. They even fled before him but it hunted them down nethertheless. The wounds of the noble beast before him were dealt by long viscious claws and the many broken bones bent in unnatural angles told Jagath that the attacking creature had tremendous strength. The ranger was well-versed in the art of tracking, his trained eye able to read the sad story with a few glances but his prey was a mystery for him. Never had he seen such footprints, such deep claw wounds that begun to rot imideately and the wide open sightless eyes upon the unicorn spoke of the terror she had to endure just by seeing the monster. It had even taken the magical horn as a trophy for it tore it out by pure force. Jagath tried to remain calm and emotionless though the circumstances made this very difficult but his focused ranger training helped him somewhat. “I`ll hunt you down, you vile beast” he growled under his breath “That, I swear.” “Adel-a-tir!” Ebelin cried out but it was too late. The trap was activated and with a swoosh an old bolt flew in their direction. Ebelin exploded into motion. He drew his longsword quicker than any mortal eye could follow and in the same fluid motion descended it on the incoming shaft, splitting it in half. A second and a third bolt came flying in their direction, this time Ebelin had no means to intercept them but fortunately they weren`t enchanted so they bounced off of their magical protections. Both blew a sigh of relief. “Angharradh be thanked” Clio said under her breath, making a short prayer to the elven goddess of protection and wisdom. It´s the second day the two elfs are within the Broken Halls. The journey there proved much easier than anticipated. A couple of overland flights and some invisibility scrolls dealt with the forest and its animals, and no one even noticed the pair. When they finally reached the glade, the ghost buidling appeared as the book had promised, both thought this whole adventure a childs play. Until now. “This dungeon is more deadly than I thought. On top of that we found nothing but traps, monsters and cryptic inscriptions despite having searched the whole complex.” Cliodhna mourned, dusting off the dirt from her precious green robes, but Ebelin had other things in mind: “Look valarin-merdil, these cracks in the wall bent like the rainbow after a summer rain. My instincts say that the inscriptions might show us the way when we learn to listen and hear what they want to tell us.” Clio smiled about the flowery language her partner always uses, nodded and the two elven friends went to work... The tracks led Jagath deeper into the Dire Woods but then they appruptly ended. He checked the surroundings long and hard and came finally to the conclusion that the creature must have taken to the sky. That was two hours ago when he decided that it didn`t matter for he knew the destination of the beast anyway. Now he had arrived at Karse Glade, the very heart of this cursed forest. His bow at the ready he scanned his surroundings. The smell of brimstone lay heavily in the air. The creature must be near. Then a rushling in the undergrowth! Jagath pulled the string and took aim. “Stop! Don`t shoot! I`ll come out!” a melodious voice came from the bushes. Jagath was a bit confused for he had expected a roar or something and all the more surprised he was as he saw the creature to which the voice belonged. The man had golden eyes, black smooth thick hair that flowed like water behind him, his skin tanned in the most healthy way and an aura of serenity surrounded him. “Please, noble ranger, don`t shoot me.” Jagath didn`t lower his bow. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he demanded. “I am called Iku Rex, a member of the Celestial Forces. I was sent here to prove my worth in hunting down the creature of darkness that roams this land. Surely you already know of the fiend, don´t you?” Jagath, one of the wisest rangers around, narrowed his eyes. “Surely you ask yourself how I could get here without your notice. I planeshifted to this very spot here. My weapons are hidden for I use magic to defend myself and the fair people of this land.” the aasimar explained further but Jagath still wasn`t convinced “Your words ring true in my ears and I really want to believe you but I find it very ...very coincidental that you appear here at this specific time at this specific place.” Iku held his hand before him in a soothing gesture “Dear ranger, I clearly see the many questions written on your face but let me assure you I can explain everything. Why not sit down and discuss this matter and perhaps we can even work together to bring this beast down.” Jagath hesitated for just another moment before he lowered his bow and put the arrow away. “Well met” the ranger wanted to say but then a lonely sunray got lost through the thick canopy and reflected from something to shine into the corner of Jagath`s eye. The ranger turned around and saw the source of the reflection in one of Iku`s bags: a unicorn`s horn. Iku obviously didn`t miss the wide-opened eyes on Jagath`s face and ran of to the side – turning invisible before he reached the undergrowth. The ranger cursed for letting him be fooled so easily but he was lucky things didn`t turn out worse. This was his domain, his home and no one, not even a creature of this considerable power was going to stop him from nature`s rightful vengeance. He pointed at the spot where the fake celestial vanished and bade the plants for assistence. And assistence he got. Branches, twigs, bushes and grass bent and moved to take hold of the unwanted visitor. Jagath saw the struggling and hurried to arrive in time before the trapped prey got free but since he knew that there is still quite a distance to move he whistled twice and the companion that followed in his shadow for so long now came crashing out of the undergrowth and ran of in Iku`s direction. Once there, Serrat stopped just infront of the moving flora and began baying in the direction where he heard a melodious voice chanting. Jagath knew how to interpret his companions language and darted for the spot he was indicating at. After his short sprint the ranger arrived next to his wolf and tried to estimate the situation. A struggling something fighted against the odds and tried to break free of the grappling branches, futilely. But the creature was still invisible and hard to discern, on top of that one of the entangling trees stood in the way to get a clear shot. Jagath closed his eyes and prayed to Mielicki, the goddess of rangers and was rewarded with an eagle`s aim and even better reflexes ...and when he opened his eyes again he just knew. With determination in his eyes and thoughts of the slain unicorn in mind he took aim and the arrow flew true. On top of that he tried to move around to position himself for a better angle while he commanded his wolf into the other direction to cut off any escape routes. The struggling went on and on but trees are stronger than flesh. This time Jagath wasn`t able to discern the exact location but he aimed at the same spot again but the arrow was blocked by the tree. Finally he positioned himself around the ancient albino oak and had a clear line of sight, if one could say so but thanks to the woodman`s keen hearing he was able to know the creature still hadn`t moved. “I`ll pay you back what crimes you did to innocent animals, you vile creature!” and so he did. He pulled the string, put the arrow at eye`s height until he was sure there was no chance the shaft could miss, and let fly. Iku knew that it was nearly impossible to break free of the strong nature`s grip and the second arrow had wounded him severly so he focused more on his defenses than the struggling. He pulled a scroll from his pocket and invoked the runes upon it and thanks to his mind being in better shape than his body he successfully activeted the magic on it. Jagath heard the chanting and realized that there was magic at work. He had no knowledge in the arcane arts but that made his fears grow that the creature might have found a way to turn the tide. He decided to better end the miserable being`s life quickly but since the struggling ended he wasn`t sure where to shoot at. Finally! After having deciphered the ancient riddle the two elfs reached the Grand Hall. It was a massive temple-like chamber dotted with ceiling-supporting collums and the dust from centuries covered the floor. An eerie twilight radiance with no obvious origin illuminated the whole complex and at the far end of the hall there was some kind of shrine. On the altar stood a brazier of obsidian stone. Ebelin and Clio smiled at each other, then made a step forward. Before their food touched the ground again, Ebelin froze in midstride as he spotted a footprint in the dust. He just wanted to warn Clio as the stringing of a bow could be heard, the arrow belonging to it produted from her leg. The shuffling of feet could be heard and then a human came into view. The man was a ranger, that much was clear. His face was make-uped with battle paintings, his hair braided together and the bow aimed at both elves. Without hesitation he shot again, this time at the male elf but that one was trained in deflecting arrows. Ebelin and Cliodhna looked at each other, then ran off in opposite directions and became invisible before they had made the third step. The ranger cursed but nocked another arrow and whistled through his teeth which made an eagle appear out of the darkness. “Who are you that you shoot peaceful travelers on sight?” Ebelin demanded, his voice echoing from several directions at once. The master ranger went into a crouch and readied his bow. When he realized that he could buy some time to locate them with answering he did so “Peaceful travelers? You`re kidding elf. The carnage you left behind in your wake couldn`t be overlooked!” – “What carnage?” Cliodhna asked, her voice also emanating from more than one direction “We made sure that we didn`t harm or even disturb any forest creatures. And what are you doing down here?” – “I am Zorander Brogaden, leader of the Brotherhood of the Bow. We are sworn to protect the forest from the danger that trespassers such as you present. Especially ones with no respect for nature.” – “As I already said, we didn`t harm any creature except for the undead roaming in this temple.” – “NONSENSE!!” Zorander cried out and let an arrow fly from where he heard a voice but it just bounced against the wall. “I don`t believe you and you won`t get off lightly for your crimes! If there is any chance that you are the evil I believe you to be then I cannot allow you to stay here in this temple.” While he spoke his eagle scanned the hall likewise. “Then we will leave” Ebelin wanted to offer but then he smelled a familiar scent. Brimstone! Followed by a rumbling growl and heavy footsteps. Smoke entered the hall from the door and anounced the proximity of the new visitor. Ebelin imideately knew about the creature before it entered the chamber: a 10ft high devil, a cornugon, completely blocked the great double door entrance with his bulk, roared once and went for the brazier. “Back! Creature of darkness! I am a member of the Celestial Forces and I will not allow you to make your perverted dreams come reality.” Ebelin stated and charged the baatezu while he began to chant an arcane melody... “So it is up to us, elven wench who lures fiends to this place.” Zorander said and released another arrow destined to crash against the wall. “Then let us work together, dear Zorander. Let us slay this creature of the lower planes and...” Cliodhna stopped in midsentence as two quick arrows pierced her beloved familiar`s hawk hide. Astor dropped to the ground and lay still. The priestess hurried to him, praying that he was still alive, and he was. She quickly stabilized him but she wasn`t sure if he would survive this night. Anger swelled up within her. She remembered the words from her father, king Phelan. A more aggressive stance, he told her. She balled her fists until the knuckles went white and with gritted teeth she let her vengeance free... Zorander was a bit disturbed as he heard several (female) growlings from around him so he readied his bow. Too late he realized the real threat from behind him and a pearl sized ball flew in his direction. With reflexes honed from birth on he turned around while pulling the string, released the arrow and dove for cover, all in less than a heartbeat. The fire caught him nethertheless but these flames were diverted by his only protection. Finally! The elven wench became visible and was standing behind a massive sarcophagus, vengeance written on her face. Zorander grabed three arrows at once and let them fly but Cliodhna dodged behind the cover just in time. She cursed about the hail of arrows this human is able rain upon her and another curse about his combination of honed reflexes and fire protection so she put away the second bead and drew a scroll instead. She hyperventilated three-four-five times and just as another arrow flew by she rose, invoked the magic and dodged again, heavy breathing from this risky sniping attempt but at least she drew first blood. Her sweating increased again as a whistling echoed through the Hall and anounced the attack of a long forgotten opponoment. Lucitania clearly understood her masters wish and dove down from the ceiling to rake her claws in the female´s face. “Yiiiekes” came from behind the sarcophagus where the eagle just disappeared behind and Zorander asked himself if this was some elven curse or just the disturbing sound a human would make either if 10 pound of eagle slams into him. The elven wench was apparently punching and kicking at his companion her arms and legs appeared occosionally from behind the cover. He tried to make a perfectly aimed shot at these but the arrow missed a hair`s breadth. He realized that the cover was a too good one so he ran off farther down the hall, along the pillars. Cliodhna didn`t even realize the last arrow nearly piercing her leg as she lay on her back and struggled against the screetching and scratching eagle. Luckily she still held the scroll in hand and invoke the second spell on it. A fiery red bolt slammed into the eagle which catapulted it 15ft back through the air. “RrrrrrrOOOOAAAARRRR!!!” Zorander screamed when he saw his beloved companion drop to the floor. He ran on, drew an arrow and let it fly to the side while in mid-stride. “Another animal on your account, elven wench, what does it matter to you” but Zorander would have renounced his words if he could have seen Cliodhna`s eyes, filled with tears about the poor injured eagle. One trembling hand in her mouth and the other outstreched towards the hard-breathing eagle she crawled forward to heal its wounds but just as she came in the open Zorander took this opportunity and embedded an arrow in Cliodhna`s side. Blood trickled from Cliodhna`s mouth and the hollow breathing indicated some serious injury. Still she hesitated to leave the eagle lying there injured as it was, injured by her own hand, ...and was rewarded with another arrow. “I JUST... WANTED... TO HEAL THE ANI...!!” she cried through tears, blood gurgling through her mouth with every word. Despite her helpful nature her survival instincts took over and she dragged herself to the next cover in form of a massive pillar. Though she nearly collapsed on the ground she managed to cast another spell, a masterpiece of concentration, and she vanished from sight. 5 minutes ago and 300ft upward someone else had similar problems... For minutes now a hail of arrows rained upon Iku Rex, still invisible and still in nature`s relentless grasp and even now the trees were not giving quarter to the weakling but unbelievably, the incredible lucky celestial was still alive. “It`s just a matter of time until I bring you down! You can likewise just surrender for here, only the strong survive and in my home, I am a juggernaut” Jagath yelled at the spot with the taut plants and sent another arrow after it which bounced off of Iku`s magical protections like so many before. But the last arrow`s story wasn`t completely finished yet. As it was deflected by Iku`s force armor it flew on an severed on of the vines holding the prisoner fast and freeing his hand. Jagath noticed this and tried to remember if he had stood up with the left foot this morning. It had been the right one. The distortion in the vines and bushes helped Jagath guiding his hand and the arrow stopped in mid-air before turning invisible. Obviously Iku had stood up with the same foot. Iku Rex realized an opening when there is one and so he dived, jumped, tumpled and pushed himself forward, tearing his clothes apart on the grappling branches, twigs leaving small wounds in his handsome face and he fell more than once on his way but somehow he managed to get out of the dangerous area where he leaned against a (non-moving) tree and took a moments breath. Jagath tried hard to prevent his seriously injured prey from escaping and shot arrow after arrow but the forest was too dense. Iku`s break wasn`t a long one. First an arrow flew into the tree he was hiding behind and then a saliva-dripping wolf came running in his direction. “ENOUGH! PUNY MORTALS!” sounded from the location behind the tree but this time the voice wasn`t the melodious bariton Jagath heard at the beginning of the battle but the roaring rumbling voice he had expected in the first place. His fleeing wolf disturbed him even further. He waited a moment longer and heard a deep booming laughter running off... towards the entrance of the Broken Halls. Jagath cursed under his breath, made a quick and fervent prayer to enhance his speed, gathered his wolf and persued his strange prey into the dungeon. It was the way of the Bladesinger. A harmoneous blend between music, magic and expert swordmanship rained down on the fiend. Ebelin Barnahdy made a full turn, his left hand drawing patterns of light into the air as if he used some glowing marker while his right arm guided his magical longsword towards the devil`s head, perfectly in harmony with the melodious notes coming from his clean voice. Even as the sword connected his turn wasn`t complete as his left hand – having finished its casting – sped forward to let the palm connect directly into the monster`s chest, pushing it back a few feet from the trained monk blow, while the delivered electricity coursed through the fiends torso. Ebelin stood still, eyes closed, head and sword angled downward while his palm was still outstretched, and as the fiend rushed forward again, the elf went into a crouch while his arms went wide and he and the fiend came crashing together. Of course, Ebelin had intended this move and with a slight shift in angle the devil was thrown offbalance and flew over the elf and onto the ground. Still, the elf had suffered several viscious cuts aswell and while his endurance wasn`t unlimited, a denizen of the lower planes hadn´t such problems. “YOU WILL NOT STOP ME LITTLE ELF! THE WISH IS MINE TO TAKE!” the fiend rumbled. The next words that came from his mouth carried magical weight and as it pointed a clawed finger at the bladesinger he was surrounded by a transluctent globe. Ebelin tried to break through the field of force that enveloped him but the barrier was impervious to both physical and magical attacks. Slowly, the fiend stood up again “SOON THE CELESTIAL FORCES WILL FALL BEFORE THE COMBINED MIGHT OF ORCUS AND THE LICH QUEEN” – “Never! As long as there are people upholding law and righteousness your kin will never bring the darkness it is upon this fair world!”. The devil snarled. “WELL LITTLE ELF, THERE WON`T BE MANY LEFT. IF YOU EXCUSE ME NOW, I HAVE A WORLD TO RUIN!” and with these words the fiend stomped off into the Grand Hall... Farther down the hallway Zorander got frustrated about the elven wench going invisible again. He shot a few arrows in several random directions just to keep her occupied and tried to listen to suspicious noises but the hawk`s touch so long ago still clouded his mind somewhat and prevented him from pinpointing her, so he moved closer to the spot from where he heard spellcasting. The spellcasting was a devoted prayer to Angharradh, begging for healing and the goddess answered even in this dark place. She still lay critically injured on the ground and as both her magical shields flared once and dissipated another pint of hope vanished. Jagath stormed down the ancient stairs, taking four at once. When he arrived at the bottom and rounded another corner he stood before an elf trapped within a magical globe. “What? More intruders? I can`t believe it!!” – “Keep your bow ready and your aim true but don`t let it descend upon me for there are greater dangers at hand that must be stopped.” Ebelin said. “Pah! Elf! No upright man needs to sneak past our guards as you obviously did! Prepare to die!” – “If this is the only way to guide your arm to the true darkness then I will gladly embrace eternal`s rest.” Jagath cursed and balled his fist in anger for he didn’t want to be fooled twice a day but if the elf spoke the truth... “Noble ranger, your mind may be split but your choices are not. My prison is a double-edged blade for it keeps your anger out as mine trapped.” Jagath narrowed his eyes as he considered this, and when he saw the wisdom in these words he nodded to the bladesinger and darted off towards the grand hall. “Perhaps I may still be of service.” Ebelin whispered to himself when Jagath had vanished. He pulled a scroll from his belt and invoked the arcane writings... The cornugon known as Iku Rex stormed into the Grand Hall and checked his surroundings. Two mortals battled each other but that was the uninteresting part. At the end of the Hall stood his goal: the Brazier of Kalitarius, one of the six Efreeti Grand Pashas from the Elemental plane of Fire, but most importantly: the doom of the Celestial Forces. The lich queen had advised him well which wish she wanted to be fulfilled by the brazier. Step by step he came closer until the artifact was mere feet away... He was stopped by a wall of force. He tried to go around but failed. He tried to break through but failed. He clawed, kicked, punched against the barrier and failed. “RRRRROOOOOAAAARRRRR”. To make matters worse the presistent ranger from above appeared, firing arrow after arrow while he steadily closed in on him. Behind him the mortal´s companion came sprinting towards Iku`s direction. The fiend invoked some inate power that rendered him invisible, spread his wings to full length and took to the air. The overpowering stink of brimstone was more than Serrat needed to locate the fiend. He sniffed on the ground and closed in on the evasive fiend and when he was in range again he began to howl. Jagath trusted his loyal wolf though his own ears told him the same but since he still had paranoid memories from shooting at invisible targets he decided to ready the string and release it when the opportunity arises. The cornugon was just about to tear the animal apart but he held his anger back for this would spoil his invisibility and with it the fun when the human will too late realize that his head is not resting on his shoulders anymore so he took to the air again and prepared for a surprise attack. “Zorander!! The fiend!!” Jagath yelled down the hall but Zorander just had eyes for the female, in another meaning of the word. He concentrated on the spot from where the witchcraft emanated and loosened the shaft but by now he knew about the difficulties in hitting invisible creatures and once more this proved all too true. Cliodhna saw the ranger approaching. She had too many things to fix but only so much time so she decided to heal her wounds first, then she dragged herself behind the pillar and out of Zorander`s clear line of “sight”, if one can say so with invisible beings. Serrat meanwhile lost track of its prey but that had more to do with the stink of brimstone hanging heavily in the air everywhere. Jagath noticed this too and called his companion to his side, both getting ready for the incoming assault. “Noble ranger! The wall of hope will not last forever” sounded inside Jagath`s mind, a message from the trapped one “You must bring the darkness down before the light is swallowed!” – “Yeah yeah, that`s easier said than done when you don`t know where to put your arrow at” the ranger replied aloud. Zorander on the other side knew all too well where his shafts should fly but he had other problems that hindered his aim. Cliodhna heard the arrow against the other side of her cover and thought it would be wise indeed to renew some protections but she had to get the scroll first while moving away from the far too close ranger. There`s perhaps nothing in all the world looking as silly as a tiptoe-ing cornugon but that didn`t keep this one from doing so. Silent he was, an act of stealth that would´ve made Bilo proud but he was far from the halfings cunning else he would know about a wolf`s olfactory senses. Serrat began to growl, Jagath listened and with a great jump the lupine leaped upon the devil and took hold of Iku`s infernal legs. That greatly helped Jagath in pinpointing the beasts location. The arrow didn`t miss its intended target but the ranger was surprised about the thick scales that covered such an evil extraplanar. “DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND AGAINST ME MORTAL? I WILL CRUSH YOUR BONES, RIP THEM FROM YOUR BODY AND BUILD MY THRONE WITH THEM!” A quick jump forward brought the fiend in range for its long viscious claws as he descended on the human. The massive powerful fiend leaped upon poor Jagath and nearly tore him to pieces. Claws ripped his chainshirt to shreds, then continued with the flesh beneath it, a headbut broke not only Jagath`s nose but a good portion of his entire face and the finishing tailslap just missed because Serrat took hold of it. The body that once was Jagath Kihr dropped to the floor as Iku released him from his grasp and focused on the pitiful creature nipping on his tail. But Serrat didn`t give up. He pulled and dragged, tried to pierce the thick scales but he was no match for the towering monster. “HOOOHOHOOOHOHOOO! YOU PITIFUL CREATURE! WHAT IS THIS GOING TO BE? DO YOU WANT TO MAKE ME LAUGH?” the devil taunted the wolf, then grabbed it with its razorsharp pincers and lifted it off the ground. “I KNOW YOU ARE NOT EVEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND MY WORDS BUT PERHAPS YOU NOW REALIZE YOUR MISTA.....” the devil`s words were cut off as a longsword exited from his crimson breast. “IMPOSSIBLE!! NOOOOOOoooooooooooo” ...and the fiend vanished, drawn back to the Nine Hells. There was still another fight going on. Cliodhna dashed from sarcophagus to pillar to stone bench to sarcophagus while Zorander tried to make her sprout feathers, with little success. Cliodhna was still bleeding from the two deep arrow wounds and the trail of blood she left behind made it a child`s play for the master ranger to follow. Steadily he closed in while he drew arrow after arrow and fired it upon her, many of them missing by mere inches. Cliodhna`s longstrider spell was better when standing on two legs and so it happened that the master ranger rounded the cover she was standing behind (and coughing) and shot at the spot where the dust was moving. As he pulled the string he was assaulted by doubts and hesitated for just a moment but then he saw his beloved familiar lying on the ground, its beak opening and closing in a soundless screetch for the pain the elven wench had caused it and so these doubts were no match for the anger of Zorander Brogaden. He let the arrow fly and this time it joined the first two and another spray of elven blood became visible as it covered the ground and his hands likewise. Cliodhna was barely conscious. Through clouded eyes she saw Zorander – now standing about 20ft before her – drawing another arrow. She knew she had to risk everything and made one final attempt. Gathering her last strength she focused some energy around her and her next word carried magic: “Stop!” she said through a blood gurgling mouth. Something began to take hold of Zorander`s mind, some cloud darkening his thoughts, then his arms and legs began to tremble as the magical word she spoke assaulted him from several directions. His movements slowed to the point of inactivity. But no mortal force was going to hold Zorander when there`s so much at stake. “NOOOOOOO!” he screamed and with an act of pure will power he shook free of the magical bonds. He was positively surprised to see her again. She lay there behind a stone bench in a pool of her own blood, one hand holding the seat while the other tried to stem the blood loss. “You witch! Your foul magic has no power over me!” and with these words he strode over to her, drew a last arrow and... “Zorander! No!!” a familiar voice called. He looked up and saw Jagath – in even worser shape than the wench and supported by the singing elf – hobble in his direction, arm outstreched as if he wanted to grab the bow from a distance “No Zorander! Don`t do this. They are on our side now.” – “What? That wench just wanted to take hold of my mind with her devilish witchcraft!” – “Only to free your mind of the cloud that hangs low in your head.” the male elf said “We bring you no harm except for the dangers of friendship. If your heart shows compassion we will do what ever can be done to right the wrongs we brought upon you.” The next seconds seemed like minutes but finally Zorander put down his bow and shouldered it. “Well met.” Jagath offered him. Ebelin at once rushed towards Cliodhna, put his arm under her head and whispered something in the elvish language. The two rangers didn’t understand a word of course but still there where no fears for treachery or something similar but just feelings of joy as they heard Cliodhna`s giggling. Jagath Kihr and Zorander Brogaden are declared the winners though Cliodhna and Ebelin found more than a wish could have given them. Iku Rex wasn`t that fortunate as he returned to his fiery home for the Lich Queen didn´t forgive failure easily... Epilogue: The four combatants quickly reached an agreement and even Zorander`s last doubts were dispersed when Cliodhna had healed Jagath, and even Lucitania and Astor first before she tended her own critical wounds. They quickly left the Broken Halls behind and spent the rest of the night together at a campfire, sharing serious stories and discussing important matters at hand. “...and in the battle that will soon descend on our world we have to stand strong and vigilent.” – “Fear not, elf. The brotherhood of the bow will fight on your side! We will be there when the time is ripe.” Zorander assured “We may not be many but our arrows strike true.” – “At least if our foes are not going invisible” Jagath added and all shared a good laugh. Three days later Ebelin and Cliodhna wandered over the grassy plain again. They had just passed village of Yartar and were now back on their way home. “A pity we didn`t get the wish, eh Eb?” Cliodhna said after a few minutes of silence. “Don`t worry, valarien-merdil, we have gained more than we could have ever wished for.” and Cliodhna nodded in agreement. “I have also learned an important thing.” she added. “My father wanted me to take on a more aggressive stance. He said I have to be able to kill when I want to be heir to the throne one day.” Ebelin just listened. “But he is wrong. A kingdom should be ruled by wisdom and compassion, not by strength and intimidation. That has never been my way nor will it ever be. Perhaps I am not suited for rulership but so be it. I will spent my time with helping and healing, and fighting for the good of the people. That is my destiny; that is what I am.” Ebelin took her hand in his’ and smiled to her “And that is all a kingdom can wish for. If there is one day truly a queen Cliodhna holding her gentle hand over the People then my eyes see a bright future indeed.” The two friends looked at each other for a long long moment before they resumed their march, always westward, towards the ARENA... |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:16 PM | The Demise of Laness I „No, hold the bow a bit higher.“ Zorander explained to Ilene, the newest member of the Brotherhood of the Bow. Shortly since the departure of Ebelin and Cliodhna the Brotherhood tried to find recruits for the upcoming battle against evil and the leader of the organization had promised the bladesinger that they were ready when the time comes. And he was going to make sure that they were ready! “No no, not that way. Ilene please. You have to concentrate more on the target.” Jagath`s giggling – something he got from the elven princess – made Zorander roll his eyes again, especially when looking at the 50 or so arrows that decorated the tree next to the tree where the target was fixed onto. “Ok, now that`s better. Now take aim, a bit higher, a bit to the right, no that was too much, a bit to the left again...” Laness DeVille was one of the loveliest creatures ever born. She hopped through the undergrowth of the High Forest on this warm sunny day, her arms happily dancing up and down. The fresh air felt good and a mild breeze blew through her fair copper hair. Flowers bent over just to get into contact with Laness’ skin and the trees lifted their branches to make sure that the cutie wasn`t harmed by them. The girl was accompanied and surrounded by her best friends: there was Samella the nice deer, Asrael the little badger, the funny squirrel Hilderime, Gese the shrew (who dreams of becoming a manticore some day), Piri the hobbling beaver, Annabella the songbird, *swoosh*...and the Harvester on the Fugue Plane... Initiative: Laness: 13+1 = 14 Ilene: 10+5 = 15 Round 1: Ilene: Longbow (18+7-2-2) = 21 vs Ac14 (flat,cover), success; Damage: (1d8+1) = 8. The Demise of Laness II For seven days now Laness cried to the top of her lungs – not that this mattered on the Fugue plane – without stopping once. The arrow that killed her was still embebbed in her ghostform and will stay there for all eternity as a grim reminder of her early death. She was surrounded by strange otherworldly beings that teared and raked with there tiny claws on her skin, then back away for a second when she wanted to grab them, only to come forth again. She would run away were it not that her torso was buried in the muddy ground from the waist on, mercylessly holding her fast while it feeled as if something slimy was moving around her legs. But the most painful thing was this eerie minddumbing sound that echoed from everywhere. It was some kind of howling, sometimes resembling a female sirene`s call but absolutely chaotic and constantly changing its volume and pitch. Minutes became hours, and hours become days. She lost track of time long ago so she didn`t know how long she had been here when a light appeared in the hazy grey distance. At first she thought it some kind of fata morgana or a trick her exhausted mind played on her but the light did not go away. In fact it even came closer and closer. She could now hear the sound of battle from this direction and after another minute some shapes could be seen: some larger versions of the plane`s denizens – plenty of them to be exact – were ganging up on a winged being from which the light radiated. With every swing of the man`s sword a denizen fell and was replaced by another one but also allowed the radiant one to take another step into her direction. Finally the being disposed itself of most of the creatures and came to Laness’ side. Never in all her life had she seen something so beautiful – not even in her mirror. The man was a celestial, no doubt. A perfect body (though bleeding from many wounds), feathered wings spread high behind him, piercing eyes of an endless blue looked upon her and the radiance not only turned the darkness away but also despair and pain. The angel spoke in the cleanest most melodious while strong voice “Laness. You do not belong here. I witnessed your fate from far away and immideately ventured to free and return you to your place in life.” As the angel spoke the creatures regrouped and began to charge; something the celestial didn`t miss. He turned back to Laness and spoke some words of magic while holding a hand gently over her head. The world grew even hazier and the last thing she saw was the angel going down under the weight of several dozen of monsters who ripped him apart. For a long moment there was nothing but then her vision returned and she found herself back on the spot where she died: in her beloved forest. Her heart made a leap of joy! And her animal friends were still there: Samella, Annabe.... *swoosh* Initiative: Laness: 10+1 = 11 Ilene: 9+5 = 14 Round 1: Ilene: moves mount into position, rapid shot [Ilene: Longbow (9+9-2(rapid)-2(distance)) = 14 vs Ac10, success; Damage (1d8+1) = 8; Longbow (6+9-2-2) = 11 vs Ac10, success; Damage (1d8+1) = 7; Laness is unconscious] The Demise of Laness III Laness deVille shaked her benefactors hand for about the fiftiest time and thanked him for about twice that amount. Both she and Eckbert stood outside the great double doors of the Pelor temple where she had just been brought back to life about an hour ago, thanks to friendly Eckbert. Eckert Vhoruun, a merchant in his mid-fourties of mediocre stature had not much coins to spare for he wasn’t a wealthy man but therefore all the more feelings, feelings for the most cute being right now standing before him. He fell in love with Laness about three months ago when she first appeared in town. Of course he made sure she didn`t realize this then, or even see him; what shy a man he was. But when they brought in Laness corpse from the woods a week ago – two arrows produting from her chest – he nearly fainted. But as the time of her burial neared so grew his determination to do everything possible to bring her back to life and so he sold his shop including appartment, rent the other half from a moneylender called Bilo Darkleaf, and sold most of his organs to the Bonesnatcher’s Guild, paid when his time is up. He brought the collected money to the church of Pelor, and so it came to be that they now stood at the gates of the sun deity`s temple. Laness descended the broad marmor stairs leading from the temple to the market place, turning around every two steps to wink back up towards a happily smiling Eckbert. She once again turned around and winked up to him when she reached the final step and now stood in the middle of the great market square – Eckbert winking back. How beautiful she looked in her green dress, her perfect body and a face that hypnotized him every time anew. He blinked once *BOOM* and Laness was gone. He only remembered something very fast passing by but had missed the moment when the Pale-Rider crashed into her and inadvertently took her with him. The Pale-Rider raced across the market place with tremendous speed and didn`t even realize what just happened or even that the body of Laness was due to the speed pressed against his warhorse`s chest. He had other things in mind, and he just detected his female quarry standing on the other end of Market Square, mighty bow aiming at him. A barrage of arrows was already raining down on him but most of them either flew by or hit Laness. “What…was…that?” the Pale-Rider coughed out after hearing a soft moaning nearby. “Nothing to worry about, master” Pale-Horse replied though it was a bit distracted from the body that everytime when it was about to drop connected with Pale-Horse galloping hooves and bumped up in the air again. “Am I to deal with the archer, master?” – ”Yes,…get…her…!” – “Yes, master!” and so the pale duo parted ways, the rider flying upward and the horse on to his way to Ilene. Ilene saw Pale-Horse approaching with astonishing speed so she decided to deal with the new threat first. She also realized that the bumping something was actually not a part of the horse so she aimed at the flank where a split second later two arrows protuted from. Pale-Horse would have evaded those two missiles if it where not for the encumbering body bumping up and down before him so he grabbed it with his set of teeth and discarded her to the side. If Laness wasn`t already dead she surely was now as a black fast-pacing coach passed by and took her in midflight with it in the opposite direction. Pale-Horse was now in melee reach of Ilene and came crashing into her but Ilene was no simple commoner: a sideward sommersault brought her out of harms way, unfortunately not out of reach. The Pale-Rider meanwhile took cover behind a stall Ilene took a step back and brought the bow up in line with the horse head. “Mylady, I would appreciate if you could hold the bow in another direction. Of course not at my master, too.” Pale-horse replied. Ilene was obviously disturbed by that and hesitated with the shot. Pale-Horse took the opportunity to finish her off but a pint of doubt in Ilene`s mind had her stayed alert and so she brought the bow up in time before the hoof connected with her head and embedded the shaft in the strange horse`s skull. The Pale-Rider hid behind another stall. He raised his hands – palms outstreched – heavenward, then bowed over with his torso, hands still outstreched, then errected himself again. During his bowing up and down he rasped dark speeches better not mentioned here. The horse hadn`t hit the ground when Ilene was already trying to locate the Pale-Rider which was difficult with all these panicked citizen running around to get into cover, so she decided to search him. The Pale-Rider continued his dark speech. Eckbert watched the scene with utter terror! The things he had to witness were too much for him. Shaking his head in denial he tried to push through the crowd towards the fallen form of his life`s love but he doubted that she was still alive after she got under the wheels and the coach went over her, got stuck, rolled back, then forth again, and after the fourth time was able to continue its way unhindered, leaving most of Laness behind. Ilene had other things to attend to. There he was! Hovering above one of the stalls bowing up and down, all the while gathering dark energy around him. It wasn`t an easy feat to hit him from this position but she had to try. The arrow was stopped by a wooden plank. A dark cloud gathered around the Pale-Rider and Ilene knew time was not her ally. She pushed herself through the masses of panicked customers and stopped only for half a second to let another arrow loose but the dark shroud complicated things even more and the flying Pale-Rider was a quick one. Ilene looked around, detected a peasant who tried to keep his steed calm and ran to him. With a forward sommersault she was up in the saddle and already giving the reins before the commoner even realized what had happened. “He…he…he…” the Pale-Rider spit out as he began to throw fireballs left and right, not caring about the innocents running around. Ilene dug the spores deep in Herr Rix flank and spurred it on to a race even bordering on the now deceased Pale-Horse. May he rest in peace. Call it fate or just tremendous luck, but out of pure coincidence the platinum ring Laness’ found some minutes ago in the temple happened to be a ring of ressurection with a single charge left a stupid adventurer had discarted, thinking it empty. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and held her bruised hand against her aching head, not knowing what had happened. She only remembered that she was again with the Harvester but just as his mailed hand went for her and was about to grab her she awoke at this spot. But back to Ilene. Now that she rode a horse it was much easier for her to get in line with the dark pale fellow. She was disgusted by his atrocity to incinerate innocents but had to concentrate on her target. Unfortunately the horse nearly tripped as it gallopped fullspeed over Laness and so the shot went wide. The Pale-Rider decided to throw another fireball. The tiny bead of fire sped towards them and exploded in a mighty cloud of fire, reducing the neighbouring stalls to nothing more than ashes. Ilene and Herr Rix made a great leap forward and were only singed by the flames. Laness was not so lucky. At least her leg got entangled in the saddle and she was dragged out of the bright burning area. Ilene knew she had to outmaneuver the Pale-Rider to get clean shots at him. Herr Rix was not so happy about this; part of it resulted from the fire burns he had suffered and the other half from the encumbering body that was bumping up and down behind him. Ilene wanted to hear nothing of it and aimed at the Pale-Rider. This time she drew first and second blood! “Mhmmmmmm” the Pale-Rider rolled his eyes but no one was sure if this was because of the two arrows sticking in his shoulder or if he not actually enjoyed the pain. “That…turns…me…on…” he rasped out, making Ilene shudder. He pointed a bony finger at Ilene and three bolts flew at her. “I…will…have…my…hand…here…here…and here” he explained and the bolts connected with both her breasts and somewhere in the loin region. Ilene gasped from the burning pain his energy bolts caused in her sensitive parts and decided that she didn`t want to feel this again. Ever inventive Ilene decided to hit two flies with one bat and grabbed the body that was still dragged behind them, using it as a shield and reliving Herr Rix of a burden. The Pale-Rider recognized this of course and decided that the fire was much more fun. A stream of fire shot outward but Ilene was able to bring her aasimar shield up before her which absorbed the ray. Ilene dropped the body to the ground where it fell into a deep hole opened because of a roadwork. Realizing she was exposed to the Pale-Rider`s embarrising touch again she decided to heal some of her wounds because she didn`t thought to get the disgusting one down in one shot, at least not likely. The Pale-Rider released another set of bolts at her and this time it proved too much for Ilene. She dropped to the floor, breathing heavily. The next thing Ilene saw was the Pale-Rider bending over her “I…am…” *klirrrrr* but the shattering noise of a vase connecting with his head stopped him short. "You monster" Eckbert said, still holding same of the shards in his hands which were already trembling as the Pale-Rider slowly stood up and then slowly turned around to tower over bold Eckbert "L..l.l.l.leave hhher bbbbe" he stuttered "o.o.o.r I.I.I.I ...ehm...hurt you". Of course even Eckbert himself didn`t believe a single word and so all the more surprised he was when the Pale-Rider turned around, fastmounted Herr Rix and paced away. The merchant stood there for a moment, unable to grasp or understand the situation but then first heroic thoughts crossed his mind and made him proud of himself. Of course, these would`ve been spoiled instantly had he turned around to see the Harvester approaching... The Demise of Laness IV It was a warm sunny WAMM!! …it was a hazy chilly twilight in the endless wastes of the Fugue Plane. Laness DeVille’s vision was completely blurred and the grey world spun around her. When that stopped and she tried to move she found that she couldn’t because her lower half was buried in the ground, holding her fast in a relentless grasp though she had the feeling that there were tentacles slithering between her legs... at least it was something slimy that burned when it touched her skin. She wasted the next four hours to get out there but then she heard a voice. A giggling. “Ahehehehehe” When she looked up she saw an ice mephit hovering a couple of feet above, juggling with some small rocks. Though Laness had invested her skill points wisely in tailoring, knowledge about other planes would`ve served her better now. “Dear creature, please help me out here. I just wanted to go home and in the next moment I appeared here. I am afraid and it is cold.” The mephit answered with a rock. Bomp “ Aheheheheheeee” Again, her surroundings circled around her which didn`t improve the headache she felt from the moment of her arrival. “Why did you do this? What did I do to you? If I have offended you in any way I want to express my sincere apolog…” Bomp. Another rock hit her head. “Ouch. Please stop thi” Bomp. Now Laness began to grow angry. “Enough! You vile beast throw rocks at” Bomp “an innocent” Bomp “helpless” Bomp “AAAAARRRRGGHHH”. “ Ahehehehehe” A little mephit was of course no match for a sorceress like Laness and she would`ve finished it off with deadly magic but just at that moment a freshly slain red dragon passed by and relieved himself of some droppings, burying Laness up to her neck in a mix of 5 days old dwarven ragout - which unfortunately included her arms she needed for spellcasting. Bomp |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:29 PM | Excerpt from the Book of Prophesies: There will come the Time of Dread The time when the natural balance Will be destroyed by the servants of evil Heralding the doom of civilization Order and Chaos will join the fight Against each other As Good and Evil did for so long Hating the other with equal passion At its peak the embodiement of both, Law and Chaos, will stand against each other In a fight that will shake the earth But in the end one will succeed thus ends the Time of Dread… Jindl of the High Forest flew over his once calm realm of trees and serenity. He just quenched raging fires near Nordahaeril and guided the refugees to a saver place – if there is any in this time of troubles – then passed on towards Mhiilamniir from where he heard new stories of destruction. Since the destruction of Grandfather Tree by Bilo Darkleaf chaos erupted everywhere in the High Forest. Burning trees and dying forest dwellers were not his only worries; animals went wild and attacked each other on sight, marauding savage warbands entered the forest from several directions, denizens of Hellgate Keep now roam the northeastern section of the woods and wreak havoc on everything that gets into their grasp. But the worst thing was that the sworn protectors went crazy too. He just witnessed two rangers – brothers in arms and code – fight each other, culminating in the death of Coralias, and they were no exception: the whole Brotherhood of the Bow was about to break apart with half of them killing each other and Zorander having all hands full with repairing the damage dealt. Even now as he flew over Landergale Glade he saw two druids engaging in a mortal combat. One of the druids darted southward towards a great tree – his loyal wolf following him - while the other one chased him on his horse. Drakiel was quicker though and reached the tree where he hectically browsed through his scroll case while keeping a beady eye on the approaching rider who waved his hands up and down, accompanied by a singsang in an all too know secret language. Just in time Drakiel managed to pull out the right scroll and activated the magic on it which caused his hands to transform into long claws and nails pierced through his footwear. He rammed them into the ancient tree and raked himself up, leaving deep scars in the wood. The chaos ravaging in the High Forest showed itself again as a wolf came crashing out of the undergrowth and attacked his own kin and dragging him down to the ground. In case Sujin thought that would be his only problem he got a bad awackening as a large warhorse came crashing into him dropping the wolf nearly into unconsciousness. Even then it wasn`t over for the poor companion as a quarterstaff rammed into his skull. Drakiel didn`t care. Instead he closed his eyes and forced the plants and bushes to grasp everything on the ground. Thanks to sitting on higher ground Sintius could evade the natural tentacles by lifting his feet but his horse hadn`t that boon and got helplessly trapped within nature`s grasp. Sintius didn`t care. He didn`t even care about his own savety but instead drew his sling and fired at his fellow druid; his only intention was to kill the man. The sharpened stone collided with Drakiel`s head, causing his skin to burst open on this spot but he was still in a far better shape than Sujin. The abuse of druidic power continued as Drakiel began a call to nearby animals by emitting high-pitched screetches. Sintius meanwhile continued to struggle with the bushes but his focus on killing let him forget to raise his feet again and so he got caught by the entanglement. This didn`t prevent him from making another attack with the sling. The stone connected with a nonprotected rib, despite the hampered movements. Strider tried to break free of the vines and succeeded. Drakiel`s call proved successful as dozens of bats gathered from all directions around Sintius and teared with their bites a hundred tiny wounds. The fact that his loyal companion Sujin was about to get killed by the bats didn`t concern Drakiel in the least. Instead he summoned elemental energy into his hands and threw it on the spot where he saw the other druid batting at the swarm but something went terribly wrong and the scroll was consumed instead. Sintius ignored the swarm and the wounds and shot again on Drakiel but with his sight blocked by the flying darkness he couldn`t even think of targeting him. Meanwhile Strider got caught in the bushes again and Sujin`s shallow breathing stopped once and for all. The bats continued to damage their surroundings and Drakiel changed his high-pitched bat calls to a deep growling. Sintius thought it better to cure his many wounds while Strider tried to break free but failed. Suddenly another wolf came crashing from where the bats had vanished, ignoring the field of moving vines and imideately attacked Sintius, dragging him from his mount. Drakiel thought this a good opportunity to climb down the tree – whatever the reason was – and began moving away from both, foe and save place. Sintius realized that he needed more protection and drank a potion which surrounded him with a force field. Strider failed to break free. Apparently the bats had enough of this and fled the scene but not before dealing some more wounds. The wolf vanished and Drakiel ran away from the threat while Sintius stood up to remount Strider. With a mighty leap Strider crossed the distance to the edge of the dangerous area, finally free of the field. Drakiel realized that he had no chance escaping the much faster horse so he pulled his scroll right here and summoned the spirit of a bear to aid his constitution. With a kick in the flank Sintius urged his mount forward closing the distance with astonishing speed while he traded his sling for the quarterstaff. Drakiel pulled another scroll and summoned the spirit of the bull, greatly increasing his strength but also preparing for the now coming attack. Sintius Quarterstaff came around and opened another wound on Drakiel`s head. Drakiel felt his life fading away so he pulled a pack of berries from his bag and ate them all but as one wound closed another was torn open and a fatal one at that: just as Drakiel pressed the berries into his mouth Sintius and Strider aided him as a Quarterstaff connected twice with Drakiel`s teeth, scattering them in all directions and the double hoof attack of Strider kicked the berries out of the ears again. Jindl was shocked by the whole scene and even more when he had witness a murderous looking Sintius bashing like a madman on Drakiel`s long dead form before he finally succumbed to his own non-tended wounds and died next to his horse. Jindl would have landed and cured at least the dying horse but time was not his ally. He had to fly on to Stone Stand where a historical event was about to take place, an event heralded from the beginning of time. After a few hours flight – he had lost the sense of time long ago – he saw smoke rising on the horizon. He knew at once that something wasn`t right for on the very spot was the elven village of Tall Trees, and elfs would never start a fire within the forest. When he finally came upon the village in the trees which has its roots back in the days of Earlann, the mighty elven empire that began more than 5000 years ago. As he neared the village, the scene grew more obvious. The city was under attack by a a monk cloister, humans mostly. They burned their houses down, killed every inhabitants that crossed their exotic weapons and even strangled them barehanded if they could get close. The elfs fought back with bow and arrow, not giving in an inch and determined to defend their home. It was again, law against chaos, like the prophesy told. Seven ancient elves stood in the Hall of Council. It was a hall only by name; in fact it was no more than a gigantic wooden building placed high in the trees but magnificent in structure and architecture, only rivaled by its beauty. The seven old men – the members of Tall Tree`s Circle of Elders hectically discussed the matters at hand while the battle raged outside. “Venerated One, tell us of the situation.” Uhmentarimster the Old asked. “We have to scatter our forces so that they cannot catch us.” – “Our homes are burning and even if we manage to chase the humans off we could have lost the battle.” Thyle-Ullar stated, a wise observation. “What would you suggest, Venerated One?” asked Elamiren Andrammar, the youngest of the Elders. “Perhaps they will break off if we kill their leader. The Forces of Law need orders to function; their greatest weakness.” – “Then it is settled.” Most Ancient One Callenfae concluded, and all seven members teleported outside… As the Circle of Elders materialized they realized that it wasn`t that easy to determine who the leader was. Not that the all looked the same but there was smoke everywhere which greatly reduced plain sight so the Elders decided to take to the air to get a better view of the scene. Hurtz of the Nine Cranes was the leader of the monks. He crouched behind a tree and observed the whole situation. The appearance of the Circle of Elders spoiled his just spun plan so he decided to eleminate them first, one by one they shall fall. He focused inward to gather his KI energy and his training payed off. Now hovering high in the trees the Elders realized that the arrows and shuriken still proved much of a threat so most of them cast a protective spell or two. Hurtz realized that he could not reach them up there but his bow could and with his new oil applied to it the damage would be enough to kill them. Wise as they were and determined to stay that way the Circle wove another spell and protected themselves with another spell while Hurtz continued his inward focus. Some of the Elders were still casting protective spells on themselves but one of them, Tal`Ronen the Venerable spotted someone giving orders to another man so he decided to thank his luck by throwing a fireball on the spot and succeeded to incinerate the monk. Just as the last remains of the smoldering corpse dropped to the ground he saw that it was the cook only. He shouldn`t get the opportunity to learn from his error for a well-aimed arrow embedded itself into his chest, ending his long life. Meanwhile the trees collapsed from the fireball. Elamiren Andrammar, with 700 years the youngest of the Elders screamed in denial as his childhood friend dropped the long way to the ground. He saw the figure that shot the arrow and threw a fireball at the spot and reduced him to no more than charred remains, payed with his own life as two arrows produted from his head. A wise eagle high in the air thought it was the right punishment for throwing fire left and right in the center of the woods. Thyle Ullar was very close now to the one he thought the real leader, crouching behind a tree. Well-versed in the art of magic he managed to get off two spells at once. He pointed his left hand at the spot and released a stream of fire, then did the same with the right hand and so on. Fireray after fireray was sent down, most of them failing to hit their target but instead doing tremendous damage to the trees. One of the rays succeeded to hit and set the man ablaze. But Hurtz was no ordinary man. He shrugged the fire off and darted towards the next tree, this one still intact. He released some arrows to cover his retreat and by pure luck the arrow drove home. With a gurgling sound Thyle Ullar died with an arrow in his neck. But the Circle of Elders noticed that and also noticed that this has to be the leader of the monks. Quickly they gathered around him and released streams of fire from all directions on Hurtz. The monk dodged and evade most of them but they were just too many and he got hit by one, reliving him of his hair and clothes. He jumped to the next cover and shot back with another arrow in mid-stride and miraculously it embedded in the most protected being in the village: Callenfae, the Most Ancient One and leader of the Elders dropped lifelessly to the ground as an arrow passed through his eye and out of the back of his skull again. Hurtz darted for another tree but the remaining Elder didn`t let him rest. They took themselves by their hands and commanded the ground to aid them in catching the monk. Roots came crashing through the ground and tried to grasp the elusive target but Hurtz evaded them, pushed others to the side and used their own strength against them. With a final sommersault he was free of the field. Uhmentarimster the Old took command of the circle and commanded a barrage of magic missiles on the man, sure that this would end the fight but the missiles vanished before they could touch him. Hurtz meanwhile decided to drink a potion to increase his defenses. Uhmentarimster couldn`t believe his eyes and thought the failing impact an unfortunate mistake so he ordered another barrage of magical bolts on the man and again the missiles didn’t connect with Hurtz who aimed at their new leader and ended his short carreer as such. Now it was Eniolissaryn`s turn to take the command and when he thought back to the damage the fireballs did he decided to throw another one but he didn`t see him through all the smoke so he just aimed at a spot where he suspected him, wrongly so. Hurtz thought that it would be time to close the distance a bit and drank another potion. To test the effects he tipped on the ground and was happy to see that he floated 5ft in the air. Eniolissaryn had a healthy respect for the still standing monk now and he didn`t want to imagine what he could do in close combat so he decided to better rob him of his newfound flight and was glad to see Hurtz descend again. He didn’t like the smile on Hurtz face though as he drank another potion. Eniolissaryn cast a true strike to ensure victory and drew a scroll while Hurtz drank a second potion. With the insight of a monk the Elder released another fiery stream and hit Hurtz in the back. Hurtz realized that he had no chance to outmaneuver the fast Elder. Everytime he went into cover the Elders repositioned themselves and got a clean line of sight on him. He decided to take them down as fast as possible and drank another potion, instantly making him invisible. The remaining three Elders knew the spell of course, and they also knew how to counter it. Hurtz thought himself cunning though and disappeared within a smoking building. But the Elder had eyes like an eagle (or an owl) and easily spotted the hideous monk who had a bit too much protection for his taste. He drew a scroll and cast another Dispel magic and every bit of magic vanished from Hurtz body. The monk thought it better to heal some of his serious wounds. The Elder drew another scroll and engaged in a long chant, some of the notes highpitched beyond the human sonic frequency but not to bats. Hurtz knew that the Elders could command the animals so he renewed his protection, this time against the chaos the elfs present. Of course the Elder at once recognized the protection and broke off for he knew that the bats would certainly fall upon him with the monk immune to their bites. The Elder thought long and hard for he used most of his spells. He had an idea though. He whistled once and called an owl to his side, imbued it with electrical energy and sent her towards the monk. Thanks to the altitude the owl was able to reach the monk with a dive. But Hurtz was trained to make the first strike and so he did. Hurtz grabbed the owl with one hand and tried to squeeze the life out of it while his other hand pounded relentlessly on its tiny head then threw the owl on the ground. The Elders were shocked by the brutality of the man as he stomped once again on the beast and reduced the poor animal to no more than a lump of dead flesh so they shot a barrage of Frost rays at Hurtz but doing little damage. The frost streams continued to rain down on Hurtz and some of them even found their mark. Hurz meanwhile drank a potion, growing in size tremendously. The Elders were out of options so they looked to Eniolissaryn what to do. Eniolissaryn knew he had to go down and deal with the threat on his own but not before he cast an additioal protection. Hurtz drew another potion and drank it. The time was ripe. The Elder took a deep breath, imbued his hand with electrical energy and hoped for the best as he dived towards Hurtz but the old fragile elf was no match for the power of a monk. Hurtz grabbed him with his long arms, held him at bay – not that it mattered with the Elder being stunned – and pounded again and again on his head. Jindl had to witness the end of the Circle of Elders as Hurtz and his monk fellows fell over them and tore them apart. He hadn`t time to aid the elfs and so he flew on, even faster this time, spurred by the shocking events he had to see. Five hours later… At last. From far away he saw the mound called Stone Stand and he hoped that he came in time to witness what was about to come. He found himself a good perch high on an ancient tree – his eyes taking on every details and his ears hearing an interesting conversation… ”Finally.” one of the persons stated. High on the mound stood a human with long copper hair braided into thick rasta locks and walking back and forth. His statement was directed to the other figure at the bottom of the mound who slowly walked up the steep. ”Indeed” the smaller figure nodded. To an untrained eye one would bet his months income that it was a dwarf: small in heigh but broad in stature, a long orange-golden beard hang from his face and even longer hairs crowned his head. But wise Jindl knew better. These being were no mere men and they were not here by coincidence but fate itself had arranged this meeting. ”I`m impressed! You made your way through the dangers of this region unharmed. I wonder if there is more behind your philosophy than luck alone.” - ”Spare ye words, chaotic one. This meeting will decide the future of this world, for good or bad of the people.” - ”HOHOHOHO, listen to your words. No Dusk, it is not about good and evil but about law, realizing the superiority of chaos! We are the embodyment of both, each representing the extremest versions of our ideals and in a few minutes a decision will have been made. The world is about to change, Dusk, that, we cannot stop but we can set the points and that`s the reason why we are here. - ”And ye`ll regret yer decision soon enough! I will not allow chaos to fall upon innocent peop….. *fades out* Excerpt from the Book of prophesies: …that will happen in the sky... like the collision of two stars that do not fall down... it will frighten ALL creatures regardless of where one happens to be at the time... it will be a thousand times worse than earthquakes... like a fire that will not burn our flesh... it will last a very short time, although to us it will seem to be a very long time... no one can prevent it from happening... IT WILL BE RECOGNISED AS COMING FROM THE GODS... it will resemble a punishment... it is meant to be a purification... like the revelation of our sins and what we will feel in our hearts will be worse than sorrow. It will not kill us, if we die it will be caused by the emotion within us. The date was not revealed only that it will happen after the battle of dusk against dawn. *fades in* “…your order, your hierarchical poisoning. We don`t need the order you want to bring!” Babar`s voice increased in volume and deepened until it was a rumbling growl “I AM BABAR – AND FROM NOW ON I WILL BE CALLED THE DAWN!” Babar`s eyes changed to dragon-like slits and his movements became more graceful. Dusk meanwhile drew his bow and tried to finish his foe but with inhuman speed the barbarian evaded the arrow. The transformation continued: small fangs grew from Babar`s mouth, his nails lengthened to sharpened claws. Dusk kept calm despite the fear-inspiring scene before him. In fact, it just convinced him that this creature before him wasn`t the one for whom he disguised himself so he knocked another arrow but again the creature that resembled more or less a hybrid form between human and dragon dodged the arrow as if it was thrown by hand. With a long roar Babar finished his transformation and drew a sharpened stone from his pocket, trying to stop the advancing dwarf who had difficulties stomping up the mound. Dusk realized that he has a hard time hitting his evasive target so he focused inward and drew on his own draconic powers. As he opened his eyes again, they glowed with a strong blue radience. It was his time to strike. He took aim and threw the stone at Dusk and the mineral hit Dusk`s body which was just about to turn to scales. The dwarf didn`t seem to even notice that but instead shot another arrow and this time Babar was shocked that the arrow flew to the exact spot where he wanted to dodge. “DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP ME WITH YOUR FEEBLE STICKS? I LAUGH AT THEM! NOW WITNESS THE POWER OF CHAOS!” Babar pulled the arrow out of his scaly hide and pointed with it in Dusk`s direction. He spoke a strange word in the draconice tongue and released the arrow with a roar which sped on its own towards his draconic counterpart and imbedded itself into Dusk`s golden scales. It didn`t break the dwarf`s concentration as he focused inward again. “YOU WON`T GIVE UP, WILL YOU? PERHAPS I SHOULD SHOW YOU HOW TO DO REAL DAMAGE!” Babar picked up a big boulder and hurled it at Dusk, a maneuver no human could hope to achieve but mysteriously the boulder was perfectly aimed and connected with the dwarven dragon`s skull – and the same goes for Dusk who still stood and even appeared unharmed by this impact. He opened his eyes and the same blue glow emanated from his eyes, making his aim true. …not that it bothered Babar. “WHAT IS THIS GOING TO BE MY FELLOW DRAGON? THAT TICKLES! I HEARD OF YOUR POWERS, CHOSEN OF LAW AND I HAVE TO ADMIT I FEARED THEM, I RESPECTED YOUR MIGHT BUT WHAT YOU SHOW IS PITYFUL AT BEST!” Babar pointed with a clawed finger at another smaller boulder and pointed the same finger at Dusk. The boulder complied and followed the chosen path down the hill and on the head. At least Dusk was far closer now, close enough to risk returning fire without his time-consuming inate ability. ”THE POWER OF LAW WILL ALWAYS TRIUMPH OVER CHAOS! IT IS YOUR VERY NATURE THAT WILL BE YOUR DOWNFALL AND I AM HERE TO GIVE YOU THIS LESSON!”. Dusk threw the bow away and stomped on the ground. A crevice opened infront of him and sped towards the copper dragon disciple. Babar wasn`t prepared for this and got sucked into the fissure. Call it luck or misfortune but the barbarian was too big to fit into the cleft which was the good message but that changed quickly as the crevice began to close again and nearly crushed him. No doubt the last seconds stole Babar`s mirth away but so it increased his anger tenfold. With a roar that sent every creature in the vincinity into a dead run – except for Dusk of course – he pulled himself free of his prison and made a great leap backward. But the damage was done, and apparently a great portion went to Babar`s self-control for the next boulder he sent flying down the hill went wide. ”WHAT IS IT BABAR? DID I CONVINCE YOU NOW OR DO YOU NEED ANOTHER PROOF OF MY SUPERIORITY? SURRENDER NOW AND I WILL SPARE YOUR LIFE!. Babar`s picking up another boulder was answer enough for Dusk. He went into a crouch without slowing down and his hands drew deep scars into the ground left and right of him, leaving a trail like that of a heavy loaded wagon`s wheels. The mud he gathered in his hands and transformed itself into big lumps of burning earth which he aimed at Babar. The burning ball of earth hit Babar directly in the chest and exploded into a burst of flame, greatly damaging the copper one. And Dusk advanced. But Babar was not finished yet. He pointed at the ground under Dusk`s feet and willed the ground to transform into a pool of acid. Dusk instantly sank deep into the pool and was about to drown where it not for his dragon wings which helped him to leap out of the hazard and high into the air. At the highest point he threw the second fiery lump of earth at Babar and saw that he had hit him in the stomach region before the errupting flames covered plain sight on the barbarian. Seeing that the gold dragon disciple came dangerously close he made another great leap assisted by his wings and the pumping of his powerful legs. When he was about 30ft high he made a turn in mid-air and threw another sharpened boulder at Dusk. The dwarven dragon was prepared for this and easily catched the missile with his left hand and crushed it in the same motion to nothing more than peebles. But the acid still burned around his legs so he decided to heal some of his wounds and to ensure savety he errected a protective barrier of force in front of him. ”HIDING BEHIND A FORCE FIELD? IS THE WAY OF LAW THE SAME AS COWARDICE ONE`S? COME OUT AND STAND BEFORE ME!” but Dusk remained still, eyes closed and focused inward, only to open them again with the now familiar blue glow, determination written on his face and pointing a finger at Babar. ”DUSK! *coughs* I HAVE TO ADMIT YOUR POWER IS GREATER THAN MINE. PERHAPS I WAS WRONG AND MISGUIDED. LET US END THIS FIGHT AND JOIN IN A COMMON CAUSE AGAINST EVIL.” Dusk hesitated a moment, narrowed his eyes and looked long and hard at the shallow-breathing half copper dragon who holds his clawed hands at his chest to stem the blood loss and his other one to a wound on the back. The moments seemed like minutes but finally Dusk nodded and made a few steps towards his draconian fellow …and in the same second that Dusk lowered his protective force barrier Babar opened his maw and released a burst of acid that completely covered the golden one and made him collapse to the ground. ”TRAIT…TOR! YOU…WILL…PAY…FO……” and with these words Dusk fell silent forever. ”MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA CHAOS WILL ALWAYS TRIUMPH OVER LA…..” were the final words of Babar the Dawn as his many wounds proved too much for even a creature of this endurance. Jindl nearly fainted too! What will happen now? He had to consult Turlang, the ancient Treant, so he wasted no time and took to the sky, shaking his head in denial all the time. That was because he knew the final stanza of the prophesy. Excerpt from the Book of prophesies: …but evil will be contain(ed) to the abyss from where it came by the one victorious in the battle of law and chaos. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:39 PM | Fire. Smoke. Screams. People running wild in the streets trying to protect their kin and belongings, and get away from the horror that descended upon their city. ”WATER! HERE! WE NEED TO EXTINGUISH THE SENATE BUILDING!!” Prevekan Guard Captain Entar Quedan yelled through the noise of panicked citizen but the priestly fire brigade had already more hands full than they owned with half of their city burning. ”CAPTAIN! WE`VE COMPLETELY LOST THE SOUTH WARD TO THE FLAMES! AND THERE ARE REFUGEES COMING IN FROM ROGUN. COMPLETELY DESTROYED THAT CITY, THEY SAID” – “LET THEM IN AND GUIDE THEM TO THE HARBOR. THE HOSPITALS ARE ALREADY OVERCROWDED! AND CLOSE THE GATES TO THE SOUTH WARD TO PREVENT THE FIRE SPREADING OVER!” – “AYE SIR.” and the soldier went off at once. He didn`t get far: before he reached the next corner a pillar of flame errupted from right under him with no particular source or reason and reduced him to no more than ashes. Entar Quedan took a reflexive step towards the burned husk but realized the futility of it all. And then, the next alarm cry made his blood freeze ”CAPTAIN! WINGED DEMONS ON THE HORIZON!!!” Wood clashed against claw. The might of the ogres blows kept the monsters at bay but with every dropped demon two new ones took its place – unlike the ogres. The Star Mound hills – home to the Bleeding Eye Tribe – was under attack by a host of lower plane denizens. “Muuuahh Donkey kill flipflap” was the opener to the next barrage of beatings the scaly demon got but even an overpowered being like Donkey needed more than two hits to get one down. “Donkey! Come ere!” – “Mooooh, Donkey not smash?” – “No, come to me, my loyal servant!” Rotpest the Ogre Mage Leader said “I have a mission for you!” The fighting ogre smashed two other devils before he went to his leader. “Donkey, go to the Broken Nose Tribe and ask for their assistance! We need this alliance or we will surely not survive! Chief Brok will…” WWWOOOOMMMMM A tree was felled as 1200 pounds of ogre slammed into it, sadly the Ogre Mage was in his path and lay also on the spot where the tree came crashing down. The source of the powerful blow: a towering Balor who just now held another ogre high by the throat with only one claw. “Mooah Chief dead. Donkey not happy. Donkey smash big thing.” and went in the Balor’s direction. He stopped again after three steps, apparently thinking about something “Mmmm, Chief say something to Donkey before dead….. ……………. ……….. …………. …………… …………….. …………. Donkey not know. Donkey go smash big thing” … ”CHAAAARGE!!!” was the last order General Truesilver gave before he got incinerated by a long-range fireball but it got the cavalary into motion. Five thousand knights, paladins and crusaders lowered their lances and sang in unison as they approached the army of darkness, consisting mostly of undead backed up by some fiendish spellcasters where even Aku would pale against. The Royal Archer Company assisted their chargers with a hail of arrows but many of the undead seemed completely unimpressed by it – even though a dozen and more arrows protuted from everywhere on their body. The Battlefield was called the “Fields of the Dead” – a vast open grassy plain with ancient tales of great battles, and it was also the last line of defense before the undead would march over the border of their fair kingdom of Askardon. Their beloved king has already been killed along with his family and every inhabitant as a nightcrawler appeared in the Royal Palace from out of nowhere. The Royal Wizards could turn the thing away but lost more than 80% of their members in the process. That was two months ago and since then the Nightcrawler came back twice, leaving nothing behind, reducing the whole capital to no more than rubble. Little did General-in-command Ureich know about undead else he would´ve called the attack off. He didn`t, and when the knights were on the undead they rode just through them as if they were air, their weapons doing absolutely no damage. Not so the undead: when nearly every knight was in the center of the host, every shadow, ghost and spectre fell upon them. Those not killed by their otherwordly touch were killed by the banshees screams or the magic of the spellcasters. In less than 5 minutes the whole army was no more …and the undead ranks now had twice the strength. The 1000 Royal Archers stood a quarter mile away and watched this spectacle, then lowered their bows, and watched the undead army approaching with inhuman speed and savage killing glee in their glowing eyes which were completely focused on them – all the while shaking their heads in denial… The same scenario occurred all around the continent, perhaps all around the world; who knows. Though great portions of the High Forest were also burning and other parts being overran by fiends the Elven High Mages gathered in a – for the moment – save refuge. “Most Ancient One! The evil descends upon our world. We have to take up arms and spell and fight them back!” Elamiren Andrammar, the youngest of the Elders proposed. “No” Uhmentarimster the Old responded “This world is doomed. We should open a portal and evacuate as many as we can to another world.” Tal`Ronen the Venerable had another plan: “We should call the Celestial Forces! After all, they are the ones to deal with demons and undead. Eniolyssaryn, don`t you know someone who is a member of the Forces, do you?” Before the Elder could respond, Most Ancient One Callenfae interrupted by bumping a book on the table. The tome was ancient like the elf himself, it`s pages yellow from the passing of time, ornate runes decorated the cover and a magnificent magical lock sealed the work. “My fellow Council Members” he rasped “I appreciate your suggestions and though I respect your wisdom I think there is still a chance to save this world without calling on the aid of armies.” Now he had their complete attention. “This is the Book of Prophesies. It wasn`t an easy task to aquire it. Several of our best Tomb Guards lost their lives in the process but in the end I am sure their sacrifice was not for naugh. But tell me, fellow Elders, have you ever heard about the prophesy of the Time of Dread?” … …but evil will be contain(ed) to the abyss from where it came by the one victorious in the battle of law and chaos.” Most Ancient One Callenfae finished the reading. All eyes were fixed on him, many with questions in them and the odd silence didn`t lessen the tension. Obviously no one had ever heard of the Prophesy but they well remembered the battle between the embodyment of law against the embodyment of chaos on the mound called The Stone Stand deep within the High Forest. And they also remembered all to well the winner: no one. Both died that day, destroying each other nearly simultaneously. Now that the prophesy told that the one who emerged victorious was about to deal with the Evil Hordes it didn`t need the brainpower of the Circle of Elders to realize the dread. “W..w…what do you suggest, Most Ancient One?” Thyle Ullar asked, “With both of them dead there is no one who can stop the Hordes!” – “And this is where the second book comes in.” Callenfae said as he retrieved another ancient tome from his lap, this one more known, especially to Tal`Ronen the Venerable, High Priest of the Correlian church. “I see, this is a ritual to bring back a deceased Immortal being! Best described as a reincarnation.” he correctly analyzed and Callenfae nodded in agreement. “But the Ritual can only be accomplished once every five hundred years and the material components are absolutely rare and difficult to find, to be optimistic.” - “I have already gathered the ingredients.” The Most Ancient One said and this was one of the rare moments in these times where a pint of hope came to life. “There`s still another question.” Uhmentarimster the Old interrupted their lines of thought. “Which one are we going to reincarnate? Law or chaos?” – “Law!” – “Chaos” – “Chaos, yes.” – “No, Law.” – “Silence please, my fellow wise ones! We have to decide carefully. Good. Now, please raise your right hand if you are for law, and your left hand for chaos.” Six arms went up, three left, and three right. It was up to Most Ancient One Callenfae, the Leader of the Circle. A long moment passed before he spoke but then, these words carried wisdom “Our inate elven senses would prefer chaos, the wild natural freedom, not restricted and bound by hierarchical structures. But we have to see through the eyes of the world. What do they need. The freedom chaos brings is good but it is a luxury the civilization cannot afford at the moment” and with these words he raised his right arm. *Many voices chatting* *knockknock* “Come in!” …”Ah I see, our spymaster. Please sit down at our table.” Ruinmaster Echada offered but the female prefered standing. She felt uncomfortable in this room. Ten persons were sitting at the table and she better kept her back to the wall for where the Cult of the Dragon was involved there was no one to be trusted. “Tell me, dear Sarah, what are the Elders planning to do? What did your keen ears pick up in Tall Trees?” Sarah felt the gaze of Bloodmaiden Shiaan, second in command and consort of the Ruinmaster, burning on her. She cleared her throat and began with her report “They are discussing on how to save the world.” A circling gesture from Echada prompted her to continue “…and they may have found a solution. Callenfae plans to reincarnate one of the Embodiements that destroyed each other three mon…” – “Which one!!” the leader of the Dragon Cult interrupted. “Ahem, the Dusk.” Echada leaned back and folded his fingers infront of his face. Shiaan was quick to jump in “We have to prevent this!” she said and emphasized her point by letting her fist connect hard with the tabletop “Better raise the Dawn! Babar …Chaos!” The evil gleam in her eyes made Sarah shudder. “Nah, my dear” Echada said after a few seconds and stroked Shiaan’s chin gently “I have found a more fitting representative for our cause. Babar would be nice but he`s a bit too …softhearted, for my taste. Tell me, have you ever heard of Zedarak?” Of course, everyone has heard about the vile beast of ages past. A monster that rivaled the gods in power and wreaked havoc among the mortals. A being composed of pure chaos and evil. It was the combined might of elves and dwarves who defeated him in an epic battle some millenia ago but the legend also tells of his return. Nowadays, the tale is considered an invented story best told in dark cold nights around the campfire or to scare children. “That`s a fairy tale! Nothing more.” – “So? Is it?” The penetrating gaze of the Ruinmaster let the blood freeze in all persons at the table and left no doubt that he was absolutely serious about the matter. Lasel Neleun was the first to speak again “B..b…but how do you p…p…plan to bring Ze…ahm… the monster back?” – “With the elves ritual of course! Once we have the procedure in our hands we use it to reincarnate Zedarak and have Chaos rule the world!” – “And evil” Sarah dared to say but her comment was met with shrugging shoulders. “The only thing is” Echada continued “that we have to make sure the elves don´t raise Dusk. The ritual can only be executed once every five hundred years and that, my friends, is a bit too long for my taste.” The leaders of the Cult of the Dragon chuckled in agreement. “Let`s begin with the preparations. Send word to our kobold cell and contact our other allies. We launch a surprise attack on the day the make the ritual.” When the members put their heads together and the planning began Sarah thought this a good opportunity to withdraw “And Sarah” Echada said to her back “for you, I have a very special task…” Somewhere else: “Ruinman want us to fight elfs. Said, kobolds should join pinkies.” A croaking kobold’s voice explained. “Elfs going to wake up dead law dragon. Ruinman says chaos dragon better. Better for us. Better for world.” – “Me likes Babar better. Babar…” – “Not Baba, Ruinman want wake Zedarak. Big dragon beast with flap on back and fire in mouth.” – “Zedarak? Is Zedarak friend of kobold?” – “Dunno. But Dusk is not.” – GRAAAAK the second kobold shrieked by the mentioning of the nemesis of all kobolds. “Calmy down, chief. Me have good plan. Me have great magic thing. Thing can call servant of kobold god.” – “Servant of kobold god?” – “Yup. BIIIIG kobold with red eye and power like many of us!” – “Go go, fetchy him!” – “Nope. Need elfs to summon servant. When elfs wake Dusk, they goin wake kobold too. Big kobold go kill Dusk, no problem. Then big kobold will help us rule world.” – “Good. We fight with Ruinman. If elfs wake uhm…angry one… then big kobold comes too. Go to Aiki Auk. Say he should make ready warriors.” And with these words both kobolds headed off. Sarah retreated from the the shadows. She had heard enough! Zedarak. A kobold monster. She has to warn the elfs of the plots and prevent the downfall of the world. But how could she do this without Echada growing suspicious? Three days later… The day of the ritual. The Elves had gathered atop the Stone Stand. The Circle was standing on the highest spot in the center of the clearing and were already beginning with the preparations for the ritual. The Elders were no fools of course so they didn`t come alone: nearly 50 elven archers protected the Circle, their keen eyes and calm demeanour leaving no doubt about their profesionality and confidence that their arrows will strike true. Another five dozen non-elven beings like centaurs, satyrs, or humans protected the Circle or scouted the perimeter. Kage Nightwind was such a man. Confidently armed with a magnificent katana he once was rewarded with when he traveled the lands far to the east he sat high on his faithful white steed called Shadowbane. He could feel the tension around him but a battle-hardened mercenary like him knew what to do. And he knew what`s at stake. This mission he didn’t take on for money or glory but because he was determined to stop the evil hordes. However, he was relieved when the Elders finally began with the ritual and hoped everything would run smoothly. On the opposite side of the clearing Ilene McPherson watched her surroundings carefully from the corner of her eyes. She had a bad feeling in the stomach region but couldn`t say why. Perhaps it was just the importance of the moment. However, the feeling didn`t go away and even made the hairs on her neck stand up. She said something in the elven tongue to the Grey next to her who took her position, then she led her pegasus farther down the mound where the forest grew more dense again. A movement! She didn`t flinch or even turn her head in the direction for that surely would`ve alarmed the intruder but picked up a flower instead. In the same motion she discreetly risked a glance in the direction. There! A single leaf on a tree didn`t move in the same direction the soft breeze blew! Ilene drew her bow and gave a few warning shots, making sure she didn`t harm the sneaker. “Whoever you are, if your heart is pure and your intentions friendly in nature you`re welcomed in our circle but I have to insist that you show yourself!” *swoosh-swoosh-swoosh* Ilene nearly fainted as three arrows protuted from her body, blood gurgled from her mouth and dripped on the white fur of her flying steed. She guided Milano, her pegasus up in the air and far away from the threat. Her discipline payed off when she managed to draw a circle in the air with her finger and evoke some magical effect: a transluctent forcefield appeared infront of her. She heard spellcasting from somewhere in the bushes, her keen elven vision even saw a pair of feet moving. Ilene was no fool. She knew there were creature that are going to try to prevent the ritual – after all, that`s the very reason she was here – and she didn`t want to let the Elder’s trust in her down. With narrowed eyes that gleamed with determination she pulled Milano’s reins who made a sharp turn in midflight and while the steed paced with astonishing speed towards the spot where the intruder hid she released one arrow after another, all the while singing an arcane melody that enchanted her arrows. And how it payed off! The magic arrows veered towards the target, eluding the trees left and right like if they were alive and were only stopped by the flesh of the target. Now if she only knew that it was no mere commoner she faced! Ilene – one of the best archers in the vincinity – was greated by the same amount of arrows as she released herself and only her magical shield prevented her doom. On the downside, she already suffered from three arrow wounds and the last hits weren`t even accounted in there! Blood clouded her vision so she focused more inward and let her intuition guide her arm. One two three arrows in rapid succession flew in the undergrowth and the soft moans told her that some didn`t fail to strike true. And still, the hail of arrows didn`t lessen. Milano was already at the border line of the dense forest so he flew up. That and the last three arrows that were now sticking in her back proved too much for even this veteran. Ilene`s grip on her reins softened and she fell backward from the pegasus, connecting hard with the ground. There she lay, barely able to take note of something as everything was blurred. She didn´t feel her body anymore, didn`t smell anything else than her own blood which soaked her clothes wet. But she sensed that the intruder approached her. “W..w…w…” *bloodgurgle* “Oh no. Never had I intended to harm one of my people. You might not believe me but it breaks my heart to see a Tel’Quessir lying in her own blood. And what shatters it is me being the cause of this.” – “O…o…oetz…i?” Oetzi was a renegade. Even for the elfs standards he was reclusive and prefered to live on his own. When his village was destroyed, his friends, his family, his love, killed by a single orc he had lost every bit of emotion and compassion …at least so the tales said. He had vowed to slay every orc he crosses and – for some unknown reasons – had this vow extended on pixies too. He was evil, they said. Full of hate, knowing nothing that vengeance. He would kill everyone if he would stand in his way. The gossip had plenty of rumors about the mysterious Oetzi, but they had all one in common: he didn`t care about anything. “W..w..w…hy?” – “A traiterous pixie is currently on the mound, hiding from my rightful wrath. The thing won`t escape me, though.” – “The p..p…pix…the…they defend…” – “I don`t care about your silly ritual. After I got the one called Kiri’endelas you can summon whom you want, I don`t care in the least.” Ilene gathered all her strength for the next words “Y..you are w..wrong. I..if the r..r..ritual f…fails www…we…” Oetzi was never going to know what she wanted to say. He shed a tear for her as he lowered her head gently to the ground. Just as he wanted to make a silent prayer for her an eardeafening explosion shaked the whole mound! The hilltop was on fire. ”ATTAAACK!!” cried Aramil Elimanoire, the Captain of the archers and 50 elven arrows were released in such a perfect timing that it sounded as a single bowstring. The first wave of monsters never had a chance and before the third wave even realized that the second wave seemed a bit transluctent they were already on the Fugue Plane. With the Elders being occupied with the ritual the defenders wanted to make sure they weren`t interrupted. Those of the attackers that didn`t fall to the fletchings were met by the exotic melee force of woodlands dwellers. Steel rang on steel, blood was sprayed as if it would be part of the weather, shouts appruptly ending in a gurgling or a death cry errupted from everywhere. The defenders had the skill while the attacking force had the masses. Orcs, kobolds and sinister looking humans stormed the mound and their ranks seemed endless. ”AIM FOR THE ARMPITS!!” Aramil commanded and 48 arrows hit the mark …the other two flew in both eyes of an advancing giant who was just about to clobber a centaur to jam. Still, the battle was far from won, and even less so as the Leaders of the Cult of the Dragon – wizards and clerics most of them – entered the fray to assist their cannon fodder with deadly elemental magic. Sarah crept along the forest line of the clearing on all fours. She had to get to the Elders and warn them of the kobold god they were going to summon along with Dusk. She just had to make it up the steep. The heat of battle raged everywhere. Dying men, mutilated, tried to do their best to still be of help. Others just got trampled down by whatever monster stomped over them. And the Cultists pressed the attack. Step by step the defenders were forced back up the hill. The evil spellcasters concentrated their fire on the Circle on the top. Fireballs flew one by one up to them, mixed up with lightning and icy frostspheres, but it was all blocked by a transluctend field of energy that surrounded the Elders. It didn`t need a trained wizard’s eye to see that the protection was wavering. And some of the last spells even got through. And then it happened that one of the ancient elfs dropped to the ground – followed by a second one only a moment later. The others continued with the ritual, not even moving a limb. Left and right Kage hacked from atop his horse and with every descending strike one of his enemies fell to his blade – only to be replaced by another one. Of all the melee defenders he had suffered the fewest wounds but that was more by luck than anything else. And luck was still on his side: a fireball exploded right next to him, killed two sartyrs and a centaur but also a dozen of his foes and when the smoke was gone he had a moments breath. His breast heaved up and down in heavy breaths as he tried to regain some of his strength. But the break shouldn`t be given to him: as he looked around he spotted a small slender forms within the trees trying to crawl its way up the hill. “Tryin’ to be the sneaky one, eh? Heeeeeyah Shadowbane!!” The white horse broke into a dead run down the steep… Sarah saw the armored rider pacing in her direction but she wasn`t sure if he had detected her so she lay perfectly still and hoped he would just pass by. woosh An arrow embedded itself in the tree where she was lying under. Sarah knew what was at stake and so she drank the potion she once got from Echada. She wanted to identify the liquid first just in case he had given her poison but she hadn`t found the time and surely hadn`t time for this now so she drank it down in one gulp. She was relieved as a ghostly armor surrounded her. Now if she wasn`t already convinced that the rider was coming for her then she was surely convinced now when he came crashing fullspeed in the undergrowth, holding high a razorsharp katana. The rider was no novice! He let the blade making circles in his hand and with the same motion slashed at her (though most people wouldn`t have even realized this) and severed her left leg from the knee downward as she tried to flee. Sarah dropped to the ground but could hold her upright by grabing a thick twig. She was as pale as ice and stared openmouthed at the rider but didn`t realize what just happened. The mercenary didn`t waste precious time and – still in the same motion – beheaded her. Just in this splitsecond before the keen katana connected with her slim neck she knew what was going on... but now, that wasn’t her concern anymore. When Kage returned to the battle he saw that another two Elders dropped unconscious with only Callenfae, Uhmentarimster, and a greatly weakened Tal`Ronen still performing the ritual. He just wanted to enter the fray again when he saw him: Echada! His nemesis! All too well he remembered the vile bastard. Two years ago he was one of the defenders of Brondheim when an invading force of the Cult wanted to raid the village. They never had a chance and when the Cultists overran the city and looted what they could Echada – a cleric of mediocre power back then took his wife away from him. Of course, Kage had tried to prevent this but he got beaten down by a dozen clubs. He never saw her again. “The battle is going well, my Ruinmaster. Soon the defenders will be dead.” – “I just hope this happens in time!” Bloodmaiden Shiaan scowlded the reporting soldier “If the Elders are going to finish the ritual there will be no victory for us!” shaking her fist all the while. “Calm down my dear. I have still an ace up my sleeve. In fact, I think it`s the right time to pull it…” – ”WAAAAAAAHHHHHAAHHHH!!!! Kage charged with a warcry so loud no man should be able to do so but the call for vengeance spurred him on. Echada was completely taken by surprise and this would`ve been his end were it not for the battle-trained Bloodmaiden who blocked the deadly katana with her own magnificent greatsword. The Ruinmaster laughed at his luck and focused on the Circle of Elders again, pulling out some strange device. It looked like a shakkra with five wand-like sticks pointing in several directions, magic coursed through the thing and the dark energy could be felt by even the stupidest barbarian. After pressing some buttons he aimed it at the spot where the Elders performed their ritual “Now you foolish mages, you are going to witness your do…” *gurgle* *bloodcough* A blade exited from his chest. Echada`s fingers grew numb, the device slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. The last act he made was turning around to see in the eyes of his killer. It was the captain of the kobold brigade: Aiki Auk. “How long again?” Aramil yelled to the Elders! “We finished Ruinman. Now we call big kobold!” – “Yip….done!” “Done!!!” was all Callenfae could say before he and the other remaining two Elders joined their fellow Circle members into unconsciousness. … … … … … The battle stopped. Orc stood next to elf, centaur next to kobold, and every single pair of eyes was focused on the hilltop where an astonishing display took place. A pillar of divine light shone through the canopy of clouds and enveloped the magical circle the Elders had errected. First it was a low grumbling but then it became a harmoneous melody like only a choir of angels could bring forth. And within the pillar of light a form began to take shape. A wave of cheers went through the ranks of the defenders and the Cultists just stood there in resignation, not sure if they should flee or wait for new orders. Suddenly a second pillar of light appeared, this one black as the blackest night and it came out of the ground, just some 100 feet away from the first light. And if that wasn`t enough to steal the mirth from the crowd the shape that formed within the blackness surely did. Every mortal stared paralyzed at the display that was taking place in front of them… Both light pillars grew more transluctent and one was able to see things more clearly. The shape within the blacklight – about 15ft or more in height – was now recognizable as a humanoid. Even now as everyone tried to close their opened mouths thick scales formed on the being, making it impervious to any non-divine attack, no doubt here. On the other side, the form in the bright pillar was surrounded by a divine hallow which radiated the purest of goodness and even the vilest orc under the spectators began to question his lifestyle. The dark one was now clearly visible as the blacklight faded away. It was some kind of giant kobold with viscious claws that could strip a tree of its bork in a matter of seconds. The thing looked at the humans down the steep and its eyes transformed into slits like that of a cat …or a dragon. Some of them would`ve died instantly were it not for the aura of virtue radiating from the avatar of hope that gave them renewed strength. With a mighty roar the kobold deity announced the doom of everyone and while he did so his scales grew even thicker. The most evil ones under the combatants retreated back into the woods as the favor of the gods was transferred to the shinning beacon of light. And still, both entities gathered even more energy around them. Even after this extended period most of the defenders couldn’t believe their eyes. Had the Elders summoned this …thing on purpose or was it just a byproduct of the calling? Aramil had no idea, and shaked his head in the direction of the questioning eyes of his elven archers. wwwWWWWWWWWWOAAAARRRR I CAN FEEL ….THE POWER COARSING THROUGH MY BODY! MUAHAHAHAHA! the giant kobold held his claws before him and looked at them as if he saw them for the first time. IT IS A LONG TIME SINCE I LAST WANDERED THE DIRT OF THIS WORLD! HARHARHAR AND IT FEELS GOOD TO BE BACK TO WREAK HAVOC AND DESTRUCTION, TO BRING PAIN AND DESPAIR! I, VRYK, AM…BAAAACK!! The entity checked his surroundings as if trying to decide whom to shred apart first. The terror in everyone`s eyes alone gave him satisfaction. But then, something stole his mirth. His nose began to sniff at something I…I CAN SMELL THE STINK OF…ORDER! …AH, WHAT HAVE WE HERE? AN EMBODYMENT OF LAW, AND A PUNY ONE AT THAT! BOW DOWN! BOW BEFORE ALMIGHTY VRYK! ”I AM BOWING, YES, …BUT ONLY TO THOSE WHO SHOW MERCY AND COMPASSION! TO THOSE WHO GIVE THEIR LAST SHIRT IN ORDER TO WARM THEIR NEIGHBORS! FOR THOSE WHO HELP AND AID OTHERS, TO EASY THEIR LIFES AT THE COST OF THEIR OWN AND STILL BE HAPPY JUST BECAUSE THEY DID A NOBLE ACT! FOR YOU, VILE CREATURE, I HAVE NOTHING LEFT! ”WHAT!? YOU DENY ME? YOU DENY THE SUPERIORITY OF VRYK – CONQUERER OF THE WORLD? and Vryk’s eyes flared up with fire, obviously not a sign that he would back away. He extended his claws who grew even longer and sharper, drew his scaly lips back to reveil razorsharp sets of teeth from which saliva dripped, and every drop that touch the ground burned a small hole in it. It didn´t need much to push the beast over the border… …and Dusk provided the rest: ”YES! I DENY YOU! AND SO WILL EVERY CREATURE OF NOBLE ALIGNMENT FOR THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT BEHIND YOUR FAÇADE OF HATE AND ANGER TO WORSHIP! RESPECT HAS TO BE DESERVED THROUGH DEEDS OF GOODNESS AND NOT THROUGH ORAL INTIMIDATION!” That was too much. With a roar that sent every creature (except Dusk) prone or running for cover the kobold charged on: he leaped high in the air – 60ft at least, if not more – the pale sunlight reflecting on his crimson scales and for just a second he stood there in mid-air, motionless, arms extended to a cross while he looked heavenward with closed eyes. Some began to wonder if he had changed his mind but then, the next action was executed faster than a mortal eye could follow: Vryk paced down quicker than a mage would`ve teleported and leaped towards Dusk. The defenders of the mound folded their hands or closed their eyes, everyone stopped – even beating hearts for this was the moment that decided the fate of them all. Dusk was prepared. He drew inhaled every bit of air around him and drew back, then just as Vryk was mere feet away he released a cone of fire that entered the legends for all eternity. The light equalled the corona of the sun itself, the heat ignited trees even many yards away and yet didn`t harm a single being on the mound …except for Vryk who completely disappeared within the holy fire! But just as most spectators began to think the kobold got reduced to ashes a burned and blackened husk emerged from the inferno and leapt on Dusk. Claws so sharp that Kage`s Katana seemed like a lumb of lead compared to it raked across Dusks body and drew deep …ravines across his torso. Where the skin gave way to the claws no blood issued forth but light shone through the wounds as if relieved to be released. Up and down the claws went and it was clear that Dusk was completely surprised that the kobold entity had survived his divine breath. On and on the beating went, every time Dusk wanted to start with a counterattack it got blocked before it started by the lightningfast beast before him. It didn`t look good for Dusk, and the world, and when Vryk dealt a viscious wound to the head, the neck, both legs, the right arm, and thrice on the torso – all in less than one second – Dusk began to stagger. That was when five bowstrings sounded …and five elven fletchings sticked out of Vryk’s neck. WHAT!? WHO DARES TO… *swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh-swoosh* another five arrows. And those weren`t shot by the Elven Archers who were completely stunned anyway but from a single elf who just appeared on the hilltop and released on arrow after another, and with every arrow Oetzi took another step towards the kobold monster. Vryk pulled the arrows from his neck but before he had removed even half of them, another dozen stuck on various spots on his body. Of course that didn`t impress him overly much ”YOU PUNY ELF! WHAT IS THIS GOING TO BE? DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HARM ME WITH YOUR TREE TWIGS?” Oetzi didn`t cease fire. ”I WILL SHOW YOU HOW TO DEAL DAMAGE!” Vryk pointed with a clawed hand at a big boulder then pointed the same claw at Oetzi. The boulder complied and flew with tremendous speed towards the elf and took him with it down the hill and out of the field of vision without even slowing down. There was no doubt he was dead. Of course that hadn`t impressed Vryk …but it gave Dusk the time he needed for a counterattack. Slams imbued with the power of the earth itself crashed into the blackened kobold body, slams that would`ve felled a tree or two, every impact was accompanied with a booming thunder and an groundshaking tremor that sent everyone to their buttocks again, this time even the kobold being was included. Dusk didn`t slow down and even added stomps with his boots to the beating. The first stomp opened a fissure in the ground that trapped Vryk up to the waist, the second stomp widened it to kobold entity breadth – fire errupted from the cleft and tortured screams could be heard down there, and the next stomp sent the struggling beast down to hell. With a motion of his hand the fissure closed again. Epilogue: When every single attacker had fled the vicinity a choir of cheers arose that – they later swore – could`ve been heard even in faraway Spikesville, a village in the middle of nowhere without even an arena dome. The defenders of the mound were also relieved that Dusk’s wounds healed so quick that even the eye could follow, and the Elders were roused shortly thereafter from their comatouse slumber (except for Eniolissaryn who just fell asleep during the ritual). And then it was up to Dusk to fulfill his mission: ” I WAS CALLED BACK TO THIS WORLD TO DRIVE THE HORDES OF DARKNESS AWAY AND SO I WILL DO! I WILL NOT REST THEREAFTER BUT DO MY BEST TO AID YOU IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY, AID YOU TO BRING BACK ORDER, BUT ALSO COMPASSION AND LOVE IN THESE TIMES WHERE SUCH EMOTIONS ARE GREATLY NEEDED! and with these words he rose high in the air, arms extended and gaze directed heavenward! The bright divine light grew in intensity as the embodiment of law gathered divine energy around him. And then it happened: in a burst of the warmest white a nova of light exploded into all direction with Dusk being the center. Every second new waves were sent out from him. First they covered the sky above the Stone Stand only, but then it soon covered the complete High Forest, extended from the Desertmouth Mountains in the west to the Sea of Swords in the east, even reached the hamlet Spikesville with all its one inhabitant, and soon the entire planet was a glowing ball equalling the sun in brightness. This light didn’t harm the people in the least, in fact it cured diseases, healed wounds, stopped combatants as their hate was stripped from them, turned away despair and pain, and even Bilo got a bad conscience - only for a second though. Not everyone was so fortunate: the demons and undead that roamed and flooded the world were washed away by the cleansing light as if they would`ve never been there. There was still much to be repaired and done but the doom was prevented. One of the sad events this day was the moment when two elfs brought in Oetzi’s broken body and many shed a tear during his burial. In honor to his sacrifice they erected a statue made from the finest darkwood and the Elders weaved a dweomer on it to prevent the passage of time devouring it. Never would they forget his deed and – though they could not know this – stories a millenium away still told of the mysterious elf called Oetzi. The lost son had returned home. All around the planet the people celebrated the dawn of a new age; humans clasped wrists with orcs, elfs and dwarfs padded each other on their shoulders, and even the pixies celebrated a full week long – though they had another reason. And thus the Time of Glory had begun… |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:45 PM | „Ok, children, I will tell you a story“ Uncle Theobald promised to the mob of youngsters who had gathered around him. They came every day at noon, right after school was finished and coincidently, Uncle Theobald always sat infront of his wooden house with his pipe and a full arnament of stories. „Okay, listen carefully for this story is one that shouldn´t be told more than once else the gods will be angered if one does so!” Now that got the childrens attention. “After the Time of Dread was past and the demons and undead hordes errased from the surface of the world, there was still much to be done. Many evil creatures, some even human or elven, went into the underground or searched for other remote places where no sane man would venture. Matai of the Barren Flats was such a man. He earned fame and fortune during the sieges, not as you might think now, but as a mercenary for the evil hordes. When his dark allies were gone he roamed the countrysides, plundering passing caravans and small villages – even burned one down, Spikesville if I remember correctly – raped, killed, robbed and terrorized innocents who were unfortunate enough to cross his way." Theobald made a short pause. "As the tales spread farther than his swordarm could reach he thought it better to seek out a hidden refuge where persuing paladins won`t find him, where he could lay low …at least for a while. One day when he rode through a small valley where he robbed out the only farm within miles, and slew the farmer as he tried to prevent Matai from taking his daughter, another being observed him from the dark of the shadows. The being liked what it saw and decided to follow Matai and so it followed the barbarian right after he had left, only delaying so much as to slay the rest of the family.” The children didn`t say a single word but sat there open-mouthed and completely enthralled by the tale. Uncle Theobald paused only a moment to relight his pipe, then continued to tell… “In the Skull Gorge, a ravine no man would dare to enter, the mysterious being approached Matai. ‘WHO`S THERE!!” he demanded when he heard something and the creature complied. Matai was a battlehardened warrior but the creature infront of him even made him nervous. It had a humanoid torso but this was where the familiarity ended: its lower half was that of a snake, no feet touched the ground but a long and broad muscular tail that kept the creature errected. Green scales covered the entire body from the tip of the tail to the top of the head. No neck it owned and no ebony hair as Mag descibed on his sheet but just a reptilian head. ‘Don’t stand in my way or Matai will cut you down!’ the barbarian threatened. And the creature answered him ‘Sssssso I assssume youssss are Mataissss?’ it hissed, its long forked tongue slithering back and forth ‘Messss issss Toreilisssson Wevlun, and thisssss isssss my disssstrict.’ Matai was of course unimpressed but he knew that this being could prove a lethal threat, perhaps, but he wasn`t in the mood to fight anyway. ‘What is it that you want!” he said. He guessed the snakeman would demand his gold, his weapon, perhaps his life even, but never had he expected the answer the snake gave him: ‘An ally’. And so it came to be that Matai of the Barren Flats and the Snakeman – his race was called Yuan-ti, the Yuan-ti Toreilison Wevlun became friends, or the closest two evil beings could be. Wevlun invited Matai into his cave and the two of them shared the next two months together, exchanged stories and even went on raids together.” Uncle Theobald waited for a long moment which only increased the excitement of the kids. “Continue Uncle Theobald, please!” – “Yes, tell us how they robbed the other farms.” – “No, not that, tell us about the snake.” – “Calm down, my children, the story is not at its end. And do you know why?” – “BECAUSE EVIL NEVER GETS AWAY UNHARMED!” the children shouted in unison as if accustomed to say this; obviously this morale of the tale happened to made an appearance in another one of Theobald’s stories, or three. “Yes indeed. The tales about the vile duo spread far. Finally it reached the city of Arkheim where two friends enjoyed their freetime in the Hugging Dragon Inn. The two of them – Ony Akerr, a master with the quarterstaff, and Keeg Ofinni, a monk with an exceptional inner serenity – set out at once to slay the beasts. They travelled long and hard, two weeks and more, stopping at every village to ask for their prey. During the third week they finally got some answers. Not that there was someone who gave them a clue about the duo but the amount of dead bodies and burned farms told more than any sage could`ve done. And so, three days later they stood infront of the dark cave… “COME OUT!” the two yelled into the cave “TODAY YOU`RE GOING TO PAY!”. No more than ten seconds passed when a big barbarian appeared at the cave entrance, bottle of whiskey – half empty and reeking of alcohol that even the two distant challengers scented it. “Wwhaddaye doin-ere? Can´t believe me eyes?” He took a last gulp from the bottle, through it away and hopped into the saddle of his latest addition: a horse he had taken from a farmer some days ago, well the farmer wouldn`t have any use for it now anyway. Ony and Keeg prepared themselves against the charging barbarian and dashed into different directions. To Matai, it didn`t matter whom he would slay first so he went after the one dressed in some kind of night robes. Keeg went from tree to tree but just as he had reached the second one he realized that the mounted evil barbarian will be upon him within seconds so he readied an attack. Matai saw the monk crouching behind a tree which unfortunately prevented him to charge and run him through – something he had trained with life farmer dummies in the past – so he just guided his horse around the tree and held the halberd high. Quicker than the eye could follow – especially Matai’s drunken eyes to which the monk stood on three different places at once – Keeg made a turn and made a powerful blow that surprised even Matai.” It was time to refill the pipe, and two of the mothers who had joined the storytelling group some minutes ago knew Uncle Theobald did this on purpose. It didn`t take long until the kids began to mourn. “GO ON! GO ON! Uncle Theobald. We want to hear the story!” – “Are you sure you want to know how it ends?” – “Yeah yeah! Please go ahead!” Old Theobald smiled at the two mothers then turned to the crowd again and said “Well, what can I do against these nice children’s smiles. Alright, prick up your ears. Normally I would always advice one not to drink alcohol but in this rare case it actually payed off. Keeg’s blow was perfectly aimed …at a sober man, but the stumbling and shaking back and forth helped Matai to unvoluntarily evade the blow a hairs breadth, and even threw Keeg offguard. Completely open he was and when the big halberd descended on Keeg`s shoulder he had nothing to resist with. Only his discipline and willpower kept him on his feet but he was unable to grasp anything, not his surroundings, no sounds, no vision, not only pain, so stunned he was. ‘NOOOOO’ Ony shouted from afar while he ran towards Matai to prevent his friend from being killed. Matai gave Ony a viscious dirty smile then raised the halberd again and pulled it down with all his might, right onto Keeg`s head!” “Ok Jonny, we have to go now” – “But mom, I want to listen to the story! Uncle Theobald isn`t finished yet! Tell her Uncle!” – “No we have to go now!” The other children didn`t envy Jonny and made a quick prayer to Tymora, goddess of luck, that their parents weren`t here. “But Uncle Theobald” they said when Jonny was out of sight “you always say evil isn`t rewarded!?” – “And it isn´t. Right after Matai killed Keeg infront of Ony’s eyes the quarterstaff master leaped upon the barbarian. The following duel was long and hard but in the end Matai’s drunkeness took its toll and the big fighter dropped to the ground only to be finished off by Ony’s quarterstaff.” – “Look, I told you the evil guy will pay!” – “No you didn`t. I knew it all the time! Evil never wins” – “But what about the snakeman, Uncle Theobald?” – “Ah yes, the Yuan-ti. Ony swore vengeance. He knew there was still another creature nearby and – turning towards the cave entrance – he had a good idea where it might be. When he entered the cavern he was greeted by a foul odor of rotten meals and dead animals. Dim torchlight flickered on the walls and produced eerie shadows that seemed alive. Perhaps they even were. Ony walked on and finally he came into a big cavern. This cavern was illuminated in the same eerie twilight than the cave tunnels but it was enough for Ony to recognize his prey: the yuan-ti stood at the other end of the cavern, arms crossed infront of his green chest. ‘Ssssso I have a visssssitor. And what would the name be?’ the snakeman asked but Ony was in no mood to chat ‘You are a monster! Today you are gonna pay for your crimes!’ Ony said and took a step towards the yuan-ti. Little did he know about such creatures else he would`ve been more careful. A gesture of the reptilion and the ground under Ony transformed into a pool of small vipers that constricted themselves around Ony’s legs. But Ony was one of the most dextrous men in the region and he managed to tiptap out of the dangerous area though that brought him farther away from the Yuan-ti. And as Ony wanted to focus on his foe again it was gone.” – “Ha! I knew the evil guy was afraid!” – “Not so quick, little Rüdi, Toreilison wasn`t scared off that easily. He just hid in the shadows, hid from the eyes of Ony.” – “What a coward. My dad would surely beat him!” – “Mine too.” – “WOOSH!” Uncle Theobald made to get the kid’s attention back and to emphasize his next sentence “An arrow came out of the darkness and hit Ony right in the shoulder. Woosh, and another one. Ony wanted to return fire but was unable to see anything. Woosh, woosh, the arrows flew by and at times he caught a glimpse of some green scales, took the opportunity to make a shot for himself but too well the creature was hidden. ‘Come out! Come out and fight like a man!’ Ony demanded. He was angry. He just wanted to slay the beast, or die in an honorable duel but this game of cowards didn`t suit his style. Ony drew closer, went from stalagtite to stalagtite, making shots in random directions just to keep the snakeman on his toes. Do you know what the snakeman did?” – “WOOSH WOOSH” the children correctly guessed. “Yes, indeed. Ony drank a healing potion to close some of his wounds, and then he realized that he had no chance in a ranged duel against an unseen foe so waited behind a stalagtite until he caught another glimpse of the creature, then dashed forward – arrows flew past him left and right, some even hit him – but in the end he managed to stand before the Yuan-ti!” – “Ohhhh” – “Ahhhh” – “Now the evil snake gets what it deserves!” Holger said, and emphasized his point with some shadow-boxing. “You must know, to stand in a dark cavern before such a creature needs quite some amount of valor, but Ony had enough. The weaponmaster dropped his bow and drew a ranseur, that`s a long shaft weapon with a curved head, like this, then it goes around like that, you know? You need this weapon to disarm an opponoment. Ok, he drew a ranseur and closed in on the creature until they stood mere inches apart from each other, only now realizing that the creature had no weapons, so he dropped the ranseur too, and drew a quarterstaff.” That brought a good laugh to the crowd of children. “Hehe, Ony doesn`t know which weapon to use, hehe.” – “Yeah, funny one that Ony, hehe.” – “Ah, my children, you know, Ony was a master with the quarterstaff so he drew this one. You all know what a quarterstaff is?” – “YEEEAAAAHHH!” – “Oh, just wanted to be sure. Now Toreilison knew when there was danger at hand so he drew his own weapon, a viscious looking curved blade called scimitar. People in the southeast use these weapons, and a shield, just to be on the safe side. And do you know what Ony did when the yuan-ti drew its scimitar?” The children looked a bit confused so Theobald continued “He dropped his quarterstaff, and drew a second ranseur.” Now that burst of laughter from the children attracted nearby passengers who closed in to see what was so funny. “HARHARHAR, Ony is so funny. He draws weapons only to throw it away again. HAHA!” – “’DIE’ Ony announced then, and made quick slash at the yuan-ti’s scimitar. A quick twist and it flew from its hands. Toreilison was a bit surprised about the easiness with which he was disarmed but he had another weapon, a halberd with which it made a swing but Ony could sidestep it. Unfortunately his cloak was ruined in the attempt as it was torn away by a stalagtite. A second later the halberd lay to Wevlun’s feet and now, what did Ony do?” This time the children knew the answer already but didn`t bother to answer because they had to save their breath for the laughter about Ony dropping the ranseur and drawing another quarterstaff. “Ha! Now the snakeman is finished. He has no weapons!” – “Well, Toreilison was never weaponless. ‘Ony’ he said ‘let`sssss halt in for a moment.’ Ony was curious now. It wouldn`t be his harm to listen to the creature first; he could always slay it afterwards ‘Messssss name isssss Toreilissssson Wevlun and thisssss isssss my dissssstrict.’ – ‘What is it you want from Ony?’ the weaponmaster said, and Toreilison answered with the same words as Matai had so long ago, and the same rotating green-red circles in its eyes: ‘An ally’.” The children waited a moment longer but when it seemed that Uncle Theobald’s story was at the end they complained “But Uncle Theobald, what did Ony do then? Didn’t he slay the snakeman?” – “No, he didn`t. In fact, the snakeman became his best friend and both of them organized some raids together – although Toreilison always bluffed Ony into thinking that the looted people were evil guys with vile deeds and blood of innocents on their hands, and when the day came that Ony was no longer of use to Toreilison, the snakeman beheaded Ony during his sleep and ate the rest of him.” “But Uncle Theobald! Evil never wins!” – “Well, I`m quite sure Toreilison was slain by a group of adventurers a year after that event.” – “Why didn`t Dusk kill the beast?” – “Yeah, Dusk would`ve torn the snakeman apart!” – “Well, Dusk, ah yes, you know, the story took place three years after Dusk’s reincarnation on the Stone Stand. Let me tell you why Dusk didn`t slay the yuan-ti. It all began one fine summer day when…” 200 years ago… Dusk walked right through the majestic gates to the city of Zandras. The guards didn’t even try to question the being as they would`ve done with every other traveler that wanted to pass through their gates but this time they couldn`t even close their opened mouths as an anvil of power, a being that radiated light like the sun itself, an entity of goodness and order, passed by them and entered the city. They all knew Dusk – tales of his deeds over the past 3 years spread throughout the continent and where his name was anounced hope flared up again. Even if the guards would`ve been able to move they would never even dare to delay the Dusk for this avatar could only bring light and law to their city that descended into chaos and anarchy with every passing day. Reason for this was the burgomaster, Corinthus Avius, a stern man who ruled with an iron fist, demanded crushing taxes from the poorest of the poor, took away the last shirt from shivering girls in the midst of winter, and unleashed his forces wherever he thought a rebellion could errupt, leaving nothing behind. And so it was just a matter of time that Dusk found his way to this place. People cheered at him as he walked through the streets, his eyes never leaving his focus: the burgomasters tower, and his determination lured the citizen to the streets. Rosebuds were scattered infront of him, children surrounded him and wanted to touch him, a moment they would tell their greatchildren a hundred years from then. And Dusk walked on… Finally he stood before the mithral double doors of the burgomasters tower, left and right were the most loyal guards to the burgomaster but they just stood there watching Dusk look up to the highest window. They didn`t even think of taking actions against this entity, not for all the gold or conviction in the world, and so they didn`t intervene when Dusk shattered the reinforced mithral doors to small pieces just by pointing at them with a finger. And on he walked… The door to the burgomaster’s room flew open and the avatar of light stood between the door frame, looking like a giant transluctend lantern archon that ate a dwarf. ”CORINTHUS AVIUS! YOU ARE FOUND GUILTY OF TYRANNICAL OPPRESSION AGAINST THE FAIR CITIZEN OF ZANDRAS, MURDER OF INNOCENTS, AND OTHER CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY. HOW DO YOU PLEDGE?” Corinthus had only now time to react for he was still completely surprised at the appearance of Dusk. He made a mental note to punish his guards after this was over. “Ah Dusk, Talon of Bahamut, Bringer of Order and Justice! Please come in and sit down at my table. Let us disc…” - ”I HAVE NO TIME FOR YOUR GAMES, EVIL ONE! REPENT NOW OR PAY FOR YOUR DEEDS“ Corinthus slowly rose from his seat. “I am the rightful…” - ”I SEE YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GIVE IN. THE CHOICE WAS MADE!” and with these words Dusk extended his palm forward that sent a shockwave into Corinthus direction, taking him back as if he would be nothing more than paper in a thunderstorm and was only stopped by the stone of the wall, where some cracks appeared from the impact. Now it was Dusk’s turn to be surprised. No mortal would`ve been able to withstand such a blow! And how right he was. Corinthus – crouching on the floor – rose slowly form the ground, his head still aimed downward, and when he looked up finally Dusk’s alarm bells sounded. Corinthus’ eyes were completely back, no iris, just blackness, and when he began to speak his voice sounded a bit differently, too… ”HOHOHOHO, SO YOU DARE TO STRIKE OUT AGAINST ME? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?” Dusk narrowed his eyes. ”NO BUT THIS ONLY CONVINCES ME FURTHER THAT YOU MUST BE REMOVED FROM THE SURFACE OF THIS WORLD!” - ”MUAHAHAHA, AND HOW ARE YOU PLANING TO ACCOMPLISH THIS?” The burgomaster’s jacket bulged and finally bursts apart as his muscles began to buldge and his size increasing. The fair face of the burgomaster transformed into a hideous scally mask with sharp teeth and putrid breath, claws formed where his hands once were and a cloud of sulfour surrounded the beast. Out of the cloud stepped a hell hound, breathing fire with both of his heads to announce his presence, and when the whole scene was over, a towering fiend from the lower planes stood at the other end of the room. ”NOW DUSK, STILL CONVINCED THAT I AM EASY PREY? HOHOHO” but Dusk had seen enough. He pumped his legs and began a running jump, intending to leap upon the fiend and tear him apart but the demon reacted quicker than the light, and this wasn’t litterally spoken… He extended both arms infront of him, palms showing upward then made a small gesture as if wanting to heave something in the air. Sharp spikes burst through the ground, spikes as sharp as the sharpest point bordering on duo-dimensionality …and Dusk stepped onto them. The pain could be seen in his eyes as he tried to keep his pace, which he did, but at a price. His feet bled were torn open and were there should be bleeding wounds there were only holes from which light shone through. The fiends wasn’t finished with his summoning: on the spot where no spikes came forth black tendrils burst through the wooden floor and entangled themselves around Dusk’s powerful but injured legs, and magnificantly kept him in place! ”BWHAHAHAHAHA DUSK THE ALMIGHTY! HA! I HAD THOUGHT YOU STRONGER. WELL, ACTUALLY I STILL THINK YOU`RE VERY POWERFUL BUT DO YOU KNOW YOUR WEAKNESS? LET ME TELL YOU: YOU`RE TOO BULLHEADED. ALWAYS WITH THE HEAD THROUGH THE WALL. WITH THAT YOU CAN PERHAPS IMPRESS PUNY HUMANS BUT IF SOMEONE INVESTS A BIT OF THOUGHT HE SHOULD EASILY COME UP WITH A WAY TO BEAT YOU!” Dusk didn`t reply but kept struggling with the tendrils. Everytime he managed to burst one, two others took its place. Dusk was imobile. ”AND NOW LET ME END THIS MISERY. GREETING TO THE AFTERLIFE! MUAHAHAHAAHHAAA” The fiend let out a roar, his muscular arms raised to the ceiling and when they descended down again a powerful bolt of lightning crashed through the roof and right on the spot where Dusk was. The bolt was so full of energy that it would`ve blinded every mortal permanently, and the laughter of the fiend complemented the symphony of doom. When the lightning finally ebbed away …Dusk stood still on the same spot, still struggling. Corinthus narrowed his eyes to slits. ”HUH? STILL HERE?” he shaked his head and summoned another bolt down. This one even brighter than the first. After it vanished …Dusk still stood. The fiend summoned another one and another one and another one but Dusk still stood. ”WHAT IS THIS GOING TO BE? CLINGING TO THE LAST BIT OF YOUR EXISTANCE?” Corinthus could see that Dusk’s wounds regenerated faster than the lightning could damage him so he thought to better not waste time and continue with the spectacle of light(ning). Bolt after bolt descended through the meanwhile completely destroyed roof, as soon as the first one vanished the next one had already taken its place, stroke after stroke, pillar of light after pillar of light, but Dusk’s wounds still healed. ”TO HELL WITH YOU!!!” the fiend cried and on top of the lightning he tore open a hole in the fabric of reality and connected the room to the deths of the Abyss itself. Dark creatures came through and descended at once on Dusk who still stood after all this beating! Corinthus now commanded his hell hound to join the fray, and even more demons came into the room to tear and shred Dusk’s immortal flesh, …and finally the Talon of Bahamut went down. His form hadn`t reached the ground as it exploded into a burst of white light that sent all demons including Corinthus back to hell, but Dusk was gone too. Back in the present… “But Uncle Theobald!! You mean Dusk had been killed?” – “Hm, if one can say so with immortals, yes, he had been destroyed though he had saved the town once again with his last breath. Dusk had fulfilled his mission in the past three years. He brought back order and hope to the people, and slew many fiends and evil men, but in the end there comes a time when you have to leave the world behind, even for a being such as Dusk.” The children looked at each other for a moment and shrugged their shoulders. Ever cunning Rüdi still had to object: “But Uncle Theobald, what about all these tales where people say they have seen Dusk!” – “Bah Rüdi, Uncle Theobald says he is dead. And who believes a simple farmer and his tales?” – “Easy Fritzi, Rüdi is right, there are indeed tales about Dusk appearing at times when the need is great, and then disappearing again as if he wouldn`t have been there. Perhaps this is all gossip and rumor, perhaps not. Who knows?” – “But you just told us that Dusk had been killed 200 years ago!” – “Well, there is one specific rumor that Dusk stroke a deal with the Harvester in the afterlife, so that he may return to the world and aid the population, well, but this is another story.” Epilogue: Uncle Theobald sat there for a long time after the children were gone, finishing to smoke his pipe. Finally he stood up and went inside his small wooden house. “Children” he said, shaking his head with a smile on his lips “really cunning, these ones” and with these words Dusk the Talon of Bahamut lowered his disguise and teleported away, to a distant farm in need, …and to bring another rumor into life. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:49 PM | In the middle of the night - two levels below the main floors of Dargenfest Hall - the two perhaps shadiest characters the city had to offer were working on a secret project the common man would snort once and shake his head in disgust about it. But not so the two of them. “Give…me…the…2-14 scalpel” the paler of the two rasped and the other one, dressed in a lecturer`s outfit complied, though he was busy working on his own. “Mr.Pale-Rider, you should set the cut a bit deeper or you might damage our new artificial friend before he comes to life.” – “Yes…you…are…the…expert…” the Pale-Rider coughed back for he knew the sensibility of this phase of work. For several weeks now the two were working on the creation of a flesh golem and they had to make sure everything is going according to plan or they might destroy the work of weeks. Not far away from here two other much smaller creatures sneaked through the cellar level of the faculty. “Hihi” “Pssst” “Sorry” “Pssssst” The two kobolds had a bad week and even less fun so they had decided to search for entertainment on their own. Dargenfest Hall – the faculty of necromancy - struck them as a good plan for they had heard frightening but all the more interesting stories about strange wonders and fantastic things lying down there and so it came to be that they both found themselves down here. It hadn`t been difficult to sneak past the few security systems but normally there wasn`t much security needed for which sane creature would go into Dargenfest Hall`s dungeon level – at least which willing creature?? but Vryk and Aiki weren`t known for their wisdom anyway. “Look Aiki!” Vryk whispered “There are two humans.” – “Yes, I see them. They are working on a monster! Uuuuhh, see how big it is? Aiki? AIKI! Keep your fingers away from that maschine.” – “Oh yes, sorry Vryk.” – “Pssst!” – ”Psssssst”… “It…seems…to…work…” Pale-Rider coughed, spitting out some slimy mass in the process which seemed to got stuck in his throat some days ago. “We have to be very careful now, Mr.Pale-Rider. We have to insert the heart now which will bring the golem to life. Okay…a bit to the right…” – “Be…careful…” – “Yes, now I connect the central nerve system with the… BOOM A crashing explosion shaked the laboratory, tore a big hole in the southern wall and illuminated the normally dim-lit room with daylight-equal brightness. ”WHAT WAS THAT?” Professor Dre’Dandrahl shouted over the noise the cascade of exploding vials caused but then he saw two small figures running out of the room whom he followed immideately. The Pale-Rider cast a spell instead to prevent the fire from spreading over and after some time succeeded in stopping the explosions. Finally silence returned to the room but the damage was done. Half the vials and exotic material components were consumed by the fire, the great machine which the professor build some time ago to gather positive energy was completely destroyed and a faint illumination still radiated from it. Smoke and steam was everywhere, blocking one`s sight. It would take days to clean this up, not counting the lost money… “MMMmmmm” A moaning could be heard over the drops of water and the exiting steam. “MMMMMMMmmmm” “What…is…that?” the Pale-Rider rasped but he already knew. Slowly he turned around and found himself dwarfed by a 1000 pounds of muscle and sinews. “It…worked!...It…worked!!” the Pale-Rider monotoneously said in his most exited voice but the next statement of the golem stole his mirth again… “Donkey smash. Donkey smash pale one” ”Abr…aca…dabr…a” the Pale-Rider coughed (which was no spell formula but just for flavor) and quickly backed away a few steps, knowing the power of his creation. The real spell came now when he pointed a bony finger at the golem and released a green ball completely made of acid. ”MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOOOOOO” came from the golem`s mouth which told the necromancer to better back away. His choice proved a wise one when he saw Donkey smashing a supporting pillar just by walking right through it and then picking up a stone from the ground. The Pale-Rider had a bad timing for just as he began casting his next spell Donkey threw the stone all the way across the room but they hadn`t an archer in mind when they built the golem. The stone connected with the table Pale-Rider was standing behind and tore a big hole in it. Nethertheless the wizard completed his spell and three magical bolts flew in Donkey`s direction and aided the sizzling acid. The golem grabed another rock… Lost in his spellcasting the Pale-Rider didn`t notice the next rock flying towards him, or perhaps he didn`t thought that a piece of stone can penetrate a pillar but so fast the rock was that it crashed right through the column and took the Pale-Rider several feet with it. Dazed, he spit out two teeth and stood up while the flesh golem grabed for another stone. The acid was on his’ side though. The Pale-Rider knew that a golem was a tough foe but he also saw what work the acid did so he thought offense better than defense, especially with the now very close Donkey. It wasn`t his day though and just as he engaged in spellcasting again, Donkey threw. The stone connected with his breast and on the spot where the Pale-Rider was standing, only air remained. Donkey didn`t go unharmed this round. Miraculously a form rose from the back of the room and this alone would`ve been enough to scare even the boldest gladiator away: the Pale-Rider stood again! A construct is hard to impress though and as the necromancer cast another spell Donkey released another warp-speed rock but this time too much rubble blocked the way. He still suffered some damage as he conjured a ghostly hand payed with life-energy as did Donkey, who was still covered by the acid blob. Heavy rasping breathing echoed from the back of the room which sounded more like a combination of an inhaling old chain-smoker’s lung and the screetching of chalk against the blackboard. Still this combination carried magic – or did it? A fast-approaching stone could decide this. Nope. The ghostly hand began to crackle with static energy and flew towards Donkey. Some might say that a barn door is more difficult to hit than Donkey and so the Pale-Rider was lucky that no one witnessed this. Step by step the golem neared but just as he was mere feet away from him the acid payed off and forced him to its knees, then prone where he stayed still. Epilogue: « Ahaha » the laughter came from the spot where Professor Dre’Dandrahl materialized a second later, dropping his invisibility. “Good…timing…Dre” – “Ohohoho, no, not in the least. I`ve been here all the time.” – “But…the…kobolds…” – “Ah, forget the kobolds. I turned around at once when I heard a battle raging. That was most interesting and I kept guessing until the last second. Impressive Fight, Mr.Pale-Rider. But now back to our work. Let´s see what we can salvage…” The Pale-Rider survived the golem`s assault which couldn`t be repaired. He received one half of the body parts which he salvaged for 4000 gold. He decided to quit the studies about golem construction and focus more on hunting woman again. Unfortunately that wasn`t very successful when throughout the whole city advertising columns with "Pale-Rider can`t hit a barn door" posters arose. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 08:55 PM | It was long past midnight, an hour when most people peacefully slumber within the security of their four walls. A single figure had other things in mind as it tried to climb the walls of the local zoo, with partial success only: “Damn ye stupid rust bars not even worth bein’ called metal! LEMME GO!!” the compact figure yelled at the iron fence that had him firmly in its grasp, at least his trousers. With a tug he freed himself by surrendering the buttock part of his outfit to the fence. At least he was inside Central Zoo where he wanted to search a new and better mount after the unfortunate incident with Dozen in the Hanz’ fight. The only thing he had to take care of was avoiding ever vigilant Johan, the zoo keeper who is rumored to never sleep. For the last half an hour Spike walked from cage to pen - quickly passing by the horse paddocks - while he watched for a fitting mount. At first he thought he had drawn the joker by picking a Dire turtle but after he had made only 30ft progress in ten minutes by riding it at full speed he left the turtle pen annoyed and searched on for something new. He remembered a kobold flying a large bat some time ago and quickly went on to search their cage. Unfortunately (for the bat) he found it and soon realized that something didn`t work as he had imagined when he sat on a madly screetching dire bat pressed against the ground by armored Spike`s weight. “Damn ye, stupid beast, gemme up ‘ere or I`ll kick yer wherevr ye drop yer dung out!” he roared, …not that the wildly flapping bat didn`t try. Johan Talyana was said to have an uncanny empathic link with the animals he had sworn to protect and thus it came that he ran towards South Garden Paddock at full speed. And what he saw there made him rub his eyes: a wildly cursing dwarf sat on peaceful Bernarda, a pregnant veteran elephant cow who deserved better treatment than the beating the madman with the dyed hair gave her. He didn`t want to waste time by searching the right key to the gate so he chanted a simple incantation and flew over the fence but regretted this the moment he landed again on the ground when a panicked Bernarda came trampling in his direction. Johan was of course prepared to deal with exeptional situations like this so he drew his magic remote control with which he was able to put animals and other savage beasts to sleep but so enraged Bernarda was that she resisted the effects of the sleep. What confused Johan even more was that the dwarf was apparently also affected by the magic, and nearly dropped over to the floor snorting but the bumping ride made him stay awake. Johan thought it better to get out of Bernarda`s reach, not wanting to harm her but not wanting to get harmed too so he flew in the only direction he knew she cannot reach him: up. Unfortunately he dropped his remote control accidently and if it wasn`t already broken from the impact it surely was when Bernada stepped onto it a second later. Spike had his hands full with controlling the crazy elephant mom but had his difficulties with it. Then a light went on in the back of his mind which told him that the beast might listen to reason if he would increase her wisdom and so he did. Johan didn`t know what to do without his remote control so he paced away to his office to get a new one. Meanwhile after 3 minutes of soothing talk to the wild elephant it occurred to Spike that his plan won`t take any fruits anytime soon, of course he couldn`t say why. But being one of the brightest dwarfs ever born Spike had already the next theory in mind that the animal is possessed by demons and other vile creatures so he cast a protective barrier around her. It didn`t work. After making silly warding gestures against invisible demons for the last 5 minutes while shouting the best dwarven excorcist sayings at them Spike was now more concerned about his own savety so he strengthened his already impressive fortitude and prepared for the worst. Finally Johan returned from his office with his new remote control but the elephant paddocks were empty. It wasn`t difficult to track Bernada down for she left quite some carnage in her wake and on top of that dwarven curses echoed from somewhere near the vermin pen. Praying that the damage wasn`t too great already he followed them through the hole in the fence. Unwillingly riding Spike was on his way to the centipede pen after he trampled straight through the spider lair – which is empty now – and tore a hole through the snake santcuary, flattening most of them in the process. But Central Zoo had its own protections: the magic lanterns which line the ways everywhere to provide light to animals and visitors alike were also capable of giving off heat rays to deal with intruders and other troublemakers. To the lanterns Spike fulfilled both. “Ouch! Ye damn sticks stick to yer own matters” Spike scowlded but the lanterns weren`t impressed …and continued their assault. Light ray after light ray hit the dwarf from left and right as he galloped the lantern-lit path. He tried to hit one of the lanterns but he couldn’t get Bernada in reach. *WOOM* it made as Spike and elephant crashed through the next fence and into Centipede Pen where most of the vermin got trampled by Bernada before they even realized what happened but not so the centipede leader! “GRIIIISHSHSHSSHSHKKKKK” it made and charged the dwarf. It managed to get its teeth into Spike’s toe – something it will soon realize as a bad idea. Bernada went wild! As if the dwarf wasn`t nuisance enough she was now surrounded by additional critters so she instinctively decided to get rid of them. Johan shook his head in denial about all the damage done and just as he wondered how much more a single dwarf could break he heard barking from behind and under him as the now free riding dogs – through which Spike happened to pass through a minute ago – were closing in to seek vengeance on the dwarf but for these small biters it wasn`t easy to reach their target on his high perch. Not so the centipede leader who didn`t let loose of Spike`s toe, was assisted by the lantern protections of the zoo. Spike tried to fend of the zoo protections but trying to wave them away with your hands isn`t too effective against energy rays. Bernada proved more effective. The dog howled but that wasn`t because he wanted to make a hommage to his wolf ancestors but because Bernada stood on his tail so he tried his best to get it out again. His best wasn`t enough: The dog’s bite closed around Bernada’s foot, Bernada’s foot stomped on the dog – a bad deal for the canine, and so it passed on to whatever heaven a riding dog has. Some feet upward the dwarf had his hands full with the light rays whom they were continuing to harrass. It had taken a while but now Spike realized that his waving the hands wasn`t very effective against the lanterns and so he referred to more mundane means. It wasn`t clear if the shattering noise of the broken lantern, the carnage left in Bernada`s wake or the fact that half the zoo was roused was the reason but Bronco, the old gardener was apparently awakened by something for he appeared at the entrance of the centipede pen. He couldn`t believe his eyes! Dead vermin was piled on dead animals, holes and deep tracks marking the passage the enraged elephant had taken and destroyed half of the zoo already. “Here! Bronco! Here!” Johan yelled from up above “Help me to get everything under control!” and Bronco was determined to do this! He grabbed the next pitchfork and went for the dwarf. Perhaps it was his anger about the carnage in the zoo, or perhaps it was the fact that Bronco was once a famous gladiator in the former arena but he drove the pitchfork one two times in Spikes buttocks (which were exposed from his initial meeting with the outer fence) and as that didn`t get him down he made a bite and took hold of the dwarfs leg. At this time we should mention that Bronco wasn’t the brightest one and he retired from the gladiator fights when he got defeated by a familiar whom he ignored and after so many years he made the same mistake again and both his feet found themselves buried under 10 tons of elephant. Spike took the opportunity to give him a knock on the head. Though he broke one of the lanterns the zoo needed more than that to illuminate the area and so the light ray attacks continued. More of a nuisance proved Bronco who still had his teeth buried in Spike`s leg aswell as the pitchfork in his buttock but the damage was already done and none will be added to that unless he hits anew. That was easier said than done with Bernada stomping on his feet – which were already nothing more than ooze but Bernada`s head swung around his world went black. Spike took the time to apply some bandages around his burned arms. While the lanterns continued to assault Spike. Johan was all the while hidden somewhere up in a tree where he tried to get his remote control funtioning. Spike applied more bandages. In the meantime wild Bernada hadn`t stood still. She ran around in the centipede den, tearing apart everything not made from adamantine and so it came that – when she ran the last supporting pillar through – the ceiling began to rain down on them. Bernada was lucky though because the dwarf got most of the hits from falling objects. Johan was so shocked from the collapsing building the he slipped and dropped to from the tree, now clearly visible to everyone. As if Spike hadn`t suffered enough already the lanterns continued to fire their rays on him. The remote control meanwhile dropped to the ground and – unlike the first one – didn’t break but got damaged nontheless: a strange sounding *kkkrrrrrkkkk* emanated from the thing and Johan had all hands full with keeping the noise out of his ears. It went on for some time but finally he was able to stomp on it and was relieved that it was silent again! Silent? When he looked around he saw everyone snorting: Bernada, the dwarf, the animals, Bronco, and even the lanterns have resumed their main task – illuminating the area. Peace has finally returned to the zoo. Johan Talyana is awarded a medal for his efforts in protecting Central Zoo and got 13.000 gp financial help from the city to rebuild the destroyed sections. Spike was thrown out of the zoo with a life-long order to stay away. On top of that he was found guilty of trespassing and finned with 150 gp which he paid with a scroll he stole from the Brandobaris temple. On the positive side, Bernada was thrown out too and had no where to go but Spike who gladly took her in. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 09:05 PM | Round 1: Zippy: “Red alert! All hands to battle stations! Captain Roger to the bridge!” Meanwhile the IKS Zorander moves straight up 30 AU. Round 2: Roger appears on the bridge and takes command of the fleet [Fastmount: Turbolift (1+16-3) = 14 vs Dc20, malfunctioning] as he takes place on the Captain`s seat (though a bit late). “Activate the sensor arrays. Helm, all ahead full!” - "Aye Sir" - "Open a channel to the Zorander." - "Channel`s open Sir" - "This is Captain Roger of Starship Wonderhorse. You`re violating Federation space. Withdraw at once!" - "No response. The Zorander stays on course." Round 3: “Sir, the new toweron deflector shield keeps the Zorander from firing but we cannot fire either.” – “Drop the toweron shield and load phasers. New course: 102.4, half impulse. Mr. Zippy, lock weapons onto the enemy vessel.” – “Phasers ready, Sir!” – “Fire.” FFFFFFSHSHSHSHSHS [Roger: Phaser (11+10-2(ride)) = 19 vs Ac23, fails]. “The IKS Zorander engaged in an evasive maneuver. They are firing…” [Zorander: Torpedo (12+15) = 27 vs Ac19, hit; Damage (1d8+3) = 5] WOOOM “Direct hit. Shields are holding!” Round 4: “Full stop! Return fire!!” FFFFFFFFFFSHSHSHSHSHS FFSHSHSHSHSHSSSHH [Roger: Phaser (9+10-2) = 17 vs Ac23, fails; Phaser (11+5-2) = 14 vs Ac23, fails] “No hit, Sir. Recharging phasers…” – “Sir, the Zorander has locked its quantum torpedos on us! They`re firing!!” – “All hands brace for impact!!” WWWWWWOOOM WOOM WOOM [Zorander: Torpedo (7+13) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 6; Torpedo (16+13) = 29 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 7; Torpedo (16+8) = 24 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 6] Round 5: KKKKRRRCHCHCHCKKKRRRRR “REPORT!” – “SHIELDS DOWN TO 33%, SEVERE DAMAGE TO THE STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY!” – “Mr.Zippy, load quantum torpedos and…” – “SIR, WE DON`T HAVE ANY QUANTUM TORPEDOS! WE SPECIALIZED MORE ON CLOSE RANGE COMBAT!” – “THEN FIRE PHASERS! SPREAD SEQUENCE…OMEGA!” FFFFFFFFFFSHSHSHSHSHS SHSHSHSHSHSSSHH FFFFFFFFFFSHSHSHSHSHS SHSHSHSHSHSSSHH [Roger: Phaser (17+10-2) = 25 vs Ac23, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 10; Phaser (6+5-2) = 9 vs Ac23, fails] “One hit. Their shields are holding!” – “SIR, ANOTHER SALVE IS COMING IN!!” [Zorander: Torpedo (5+13) = 18 vs Ac19, fails; Torpedo (7+13) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 9; Torpedo (12+8) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 9] WWWWWWAMMM WAMM Round 6: “SHIELDS DOWN TO 13%, SEVERE DAMAGE TO THE WARP ENGINES, HULL BREACH ON DECK 17 AND WE`RE LOSING MAIN POWER!!” – “EVACUATE DECK 17 AND SEND REPAIR TEAMS TO DEFLECTOR CONTROL! WE HAVE TO GET THE SHIELDS BACK ONLINE!!” – “Engineering to bridge! Dilicium matrix destabalizing! We`re 5 minutes short of a warp core breach!” – “MR.ZIPPY! RAPID FIRE!!” FFFFFFSHSHSHSHTT FFSHSHSHTT FFSHSHSHTT FFFSHSHSHTT [Roger: Phaser (18+10-2) = 26 vs Ac23, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 8; Phaser (3+5-2) = 6 vs Ac23, fails] – “SIR, THE REPAIR TEAMS ARE RESPONDING!” [Zippy: Alpha Repair team (2d8+5) = 15] – “TORPEDOS!!” SSSSSsssssss SSSSSsssssss SSSSSsssssss [Zorander: Torpedo (2+13) = 15 vs Ac19, fails; Torpedo (3+13) = 16 vs Ac19, fails; Torpedo (5+8) = 13 vs Ac19, fails] Round 7: “Shields back online! We`ve also fixed the hull breach on deck 17.” – “Reroute all axillery power to the deflector shields!” – “Aye Sir.” …. “Energy transfer complete.” [Roger: Rerouting energy = 21] wwwwwwwWWWWWWWWWWWWWAMMM WAMM [Zorander: Torpedo (7+13) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 7; Torpedo (2+13) = 15 vs Ac19, fails; Torpedo (16+8) = 24 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 10] Round 8: “Captain, the Zorander`s shields are too strong!” – “I know, Mr.Zipppy. What do you suggest?” – “Maybe this is a good time to test our new Divine Phaser remodulation!” – “They are still in the prototype phase!” – “We have no choice, Sir!” – “Alright then. Captain to engeneering! Recalibrate the phasers to divine modulation!” – “Aye Sir!” – “Sir, the Gamma Repair team reports back! They reinforced the ablative armor!” [Roger: Gamma Repair team (1d8+5) = 13] WWWWWWOOOM SSSssssssssss WOOM [Zorander: Torpedo (10+13) = 26 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 7; Torpedo (2+13) = 15 vs Ac19, fails; Torpedo (12+8) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 8] Round 9: “Modifications complete!” – “Let`s see what this new modulation can do. Phasers, full versus!” FFFFFFFFFFFFF SHSHSHSHSTT FFFSHSHSHSHSH SSSHHHHHHHSHSHSHSHTTTT [Roger: Divine Phasers (20!), critical threat (19+10+2-2) = 29 vs Ac23, confirmed! Damage (3d8+9+6) = 30; Divine Phasers (20!), critical threat (2+5+2-2) = 7 vs Ac23, not confirmed; Damage (1d8+5) = 7] “Direct hit! Their shields are destroyed! Warp and Impulse engines offline as is their main power! Hull breaches on deck 14 to 16, 22, and 35 to 37! Light damage to their sensor array, and we rendered most of their phasers useless! The Zorander is adrift!!” - “Seems like the prototype is working within normal parameters.” – “Sir, Beta Repair Team reports back: main power`s back online!” [Roger: Beta Repair team (1d8+5) = 6][Zorander: Repair crew (1d8+1) = 9] Round 10: FFFF FFFFFFFFFSHSHSHSHSTT FFFSHSHSHSHSH SSSHHHHHHHSHSHSHSHTTTT [Roger: Phaser (10+10+2-2) = 20 vs Ac23, fails; Phasers (1!), fails] “The Zorander is out of reach. Our phasers are ineffective at this range.” – “New course, 221.306. Load Photon torpedos” – “Epsilon repair team has finished their work!” [Zippy: Epsilon repair team (1d8+5) = 8][Zorander: Repair crew (1d8+1) = 5] Round 11: “Engage maneuver: Roger alpha one!” – “Aye Sir. Photon torpedos ready” - “Fire” DJUO-DJUO-DJUO-DJUO [Roger: Photon torpedos (7+10+2-2) = 17 vs Ac23, fails; Torpedo (16+5+2-2) = 21 vs Ac23, fails]. “Captain! The Zorander is moving again! All torpedos missed!” – “They have repaired their engines really quick!” – “They are firing again!! FULL SALVE INCOMING!!” wwwwwwwWWWWWWWWWWWWWAMMM WAMMWAMM [Zorander: Torpedo (10+13) = 26 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 7; Torpedo (19+13) = 32 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 8; Torpedo (17+8) = 25 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 10] Round 12: “POWERS OFFLINE, WE`VE LOST SHIELDS AND ALL WEAPONS ARE GONE!!” –“SIR! THEY`RE HAILING US!” – “*grrr* ON SCREEN” – “This is Imperial Klingon starship IKS Zorander. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will result in the destruction of your vessel. Zorander out.” – “Maybe today is a good day to die! PREPARE FOR RAMMING SPEED!” – “COLLISION COURSE ENTERED!” – “ALL FULL AHEAD!” wwwwWWWW WWWW WWWWWW KKKKRRRRRRCCHHHCH CHCHCHCHCKKRRRRRR [Roger: Collision damage (18+10+2-2) = 28 vs Ac23, success; Damage (1d8+5) = 6; Collision damage (10+5+2-2) = 15 vs Ac23, fails][Zorander: Collision damage (9+13) = 22 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 11; Collision damage (7+13) = 20 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 6; Collision damage (13+8) = 21 vs Ac19, success; Damage (1d8+3) = 10, USS Wonderhorse is destroyed] Used items: USS Wonderhorse: 15 phaser cells IKS Zorander: Portboard Warp narcelle (Fly), 22 quantum torpedos, 2 Repair teams (CLW) |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 09:13 PM | Round 1 http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/bios/james_lipton.jpg: Jindl was first to go, perhaps a sign that the forest setting was to his advantage? Now, do you think that may have colored the whole of the fight? http://www.ojai.net/swanson/images/03-30-01_capt_people_walken_small.jpg: Oh Grames. Now. What do you. Take me for? I am prepared for every contingency, especially one as likely as that. Jindl sends nox 160 ft forward and 80 ft up to charge the Harvester next round. In the meantime he drops his shield and changes into a dino. The Harvester judges Nox and the dino to be a less then serious threat and casts righteous might before moving into charge range. Round 2 http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/bios/james_lipton.jpg: Jindl, here you must have found yourself to be rather concerned. Pardon. Concern is to light a word. No mortal creature looking upon the black skull tipped lance of the Harvester could feel anything short of a bone shuddering fear. Yet you remained firm. How? http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/guests/BenicioDelToro.jpg: I’m a fan of the games myself, so I’ve seen what Harv’s lance can do with half a chance. But you know, I was feeling good. I was ready for what was to come, and with that knowledge I felt really secure in my position. Nox charges Nightingale but takes an AoO from harvester (6+13+3str-1size=21 miss) and Nox (17+15=32 vs. AC: 28-2 charge hit, dmg: 3+5+1=18). Nox (3+9+2charge+2enh=16 vs. 14, ride check 5+15-5 skeleton: 15 dmg: 3+6+8=17) and takes a chunk out of his side. Jindl readies an action to cast repel wood when harvester is within 30 ft. The harvester charges but with his lance a mere 10 ft away the druid completes his spell and waves of energy begin to tear into every wooden object he possess. Unwilling to release his lance he is torn from the saddle (ride:8+15-5=18, soft fall no damage) and falls slowly to the ground 60 ft away from Jindl. Nightingale continues forward though and attacks Jindl (1!) but can’t connect. Round 3 http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/bios/james_lipton.jpg: I. Was. Amazed. There are no words in our language or any other to describe the astounding effectiveness of that wood repelling charge breaker. I am forced to create one: Fantabolous. Jindle-that was a fantabolous display of your druidic abilities. Jindl: Thank you Grames, though I must admit that loosing initiative to the harvester was less then ideal, I think my position was good. Nightingale attacks again (6+15=21 vs. 25 fail) before being called back to his master at a command. The Harvester attempts to mount quickly (ride: 2+15-5-3ACP=9 fail) but is still askew from the Jindl’s blow. Once mounted the harvester casts protection from fire ( spellcraft: 12+15=27 success). Nox attacks again (12+9+2=23 vs. 14 Ride check: 19+15-5=29 negated) but the attack is negated again. Jindl activets his ring and suddenly Nox is frozen immobile beneath the harvester. Round 4 GRames: The fight…was not going as you would hope Harvester. http://www.ojai.net/swanson/images/03-30-01_capt_people_walken_small.jpg: You. Have a gift…for understatement. The harvester brings his mailed fist down on Nightingales skull(attack action) then moves him to the center of the arena provoking an attack from Nox (13+9+2=24 vs. Ride: 1+15-5=11, dmg: 6+2+8=16) and takes out a chunk of bone for his troubles. Seeing his opponent withdraw and the wood repelling cone still in place between them Jindl buffs with animal growth. Nox charges again (Harv AoO: 2+15=17 vs. 26, Night: 19+15=34 vs. 26: 6+6+10=22) and takes a solid hit from Nightingale because of it. (8+9+2=19 vs. Ride: 12+15-5=22) and is again unable to connect. Round 5 Grames: It seemed like the action cooled about this point, as each of you withdrew behind your spells. Did you think the harvester stronger then you Jindl? Jindl: Hmm…Prudence in the arena is always a delicate balance. Lets say I just felt some assistance in the fight would be a good idea The harvester casts freedom of movement (Jindl spell craft: 15+15=30 success). Nightingale attacks Nox (Hoof 1:17+15=32, hoof 2: 12+15=27 vs. 26, bite: 14+10=24 vs. 26 miss. Dmg: 6+6+3+4+20=39) and with a furious clatter of hooves the bat drops dead on the ground. Jindl finishes his summons and calls (roll: 3) a small flock of arrowhawks to attack the Harvester. They appear 50 ft from Jindl and fire their electrical rays simultaneously (6+9=15 vs. Touch AC: 12, 11+9=20, 4+9=13 dmg: 5+2+2+5+6+5=25) and three bolts slam into the harvester. Jindl begins to summon more. Round 6 Grames: How did it feel, seeing Nox fall? Harvester: It felt…there is a very long pause good. I was as proud of Nightingale then as if he had just slain a house full of orphans. Which reminds me…I’ll be back in just a minute.darkness closes over the figure of the harvester and he is gone Nox (role needs a 10; 9) fails to stabilize and dies. The harvester casts protection from electricity to hold off the barrage of attacks (Jindl spellcraft: 5+13=18 vs. 18, success). The arrowhawk’s attacks continue (15+9=24 vs. 12, 1!, 11+9=20 dmg: 6+6+2+5=19) but the whole of it is absorbed. (1) more arrow hawk joins the endeavor and attacks the Harvester (5+9=14 vs. 12, dmg: 4+6=10). Summon finished Jindl decides to strip the HArester of his protections and draws and casts a scroll (dispel check: righteous might: 1+11=12 vs. 21 fail, 8+11=19 vs. protection from fire (120) fail, 13+11=24 vs. Freedom of movement success, 13+11=24 vs. protection from electricity success.) and removes ~half of them. Round 7 Grames: Well then Jindl, after that- was the fight progressing about as you would of liked? Jindl: For the most part. But as even the dullest member of your class can recite a few titters “Crits happen.” I wasn’t about to engage the Harvester until I was sure I had the advantage. The harvester moves his mount 130 ft from the arrow hawks hoping to avoid more electrical blasts as he prepares himself. From there he casts divine power on himself to empower his attacks. The arrow hawks move 100ft closer but can not attack this turn Jindl narrows his eyes (quite the feat in a reptilian form) and summons a pillar of flame to consume nightingale and the Harvester (Harv ref: 18+6=24 vs. 19 success, Nightingale 5+8=13 dmg: 4+3+3+6+1+3+2+2+6+6+3=39) but the black cloaked figure ignores the worst of it. Nightingale is not as lucky. Round 8 Grames: good to have you back Harvester. At this point would you say Jindl had you on the run? Harvester: Well Grames. I don’t think. That’s quite fair. But if Jindl wanted to turn this into a battle of the summons I was happy. To oblige. The harvester moves south again avoiding the bolts of the arrowhawks. From there he draws a rod, and summons a glowing long sword to attack Jindl (19+11bab+4wis=34 vs. 25, confirm: 6+15=21 not a crit. Dmg: 4+3=7) and the longsword strikes the druid soundly. The arrow hawks can’t catch the cleric this or any other round. They will be ignored until harvester stops moving. Jindl takes a moment to improve his already formidable vitality. Round 9 Grames: Jindl I’m curious if you have any thoughts for the less experienced members of our audience? Jindl: Oh my. Well I suppose just…don’t think your invincible. If you never lose you won’t know if your lucky or good. The harvester moves and summons a second sword which joins the 1st on the attack (S1:15+15=30 vs. 25, 9+10=19, 8+5=13, S2:7+15=22 dmg: 8+3=11). Jindl summons another pillar of flame (Harv ref: 5+6=11 vs. 19, Night: 20! Dmg: 1+5+5+5+6+6+5+3+2+1+6=45) and scorches the flying figures. Round 10 Grames: And yourself Harvester? Any words for the young? Harvester: In fact. I agree with the druid. I would only add all hopes of cheating death…are futile. The harvesters swords attack (S1: 3+15=18 vs. 24, 11+10=21, 7+5=12, S2: 11+15=26, 17+10=27, 10+5=15 dmg: 1+3+6=10) and as his protections fade the harvester takes a moment to heal himself. (converts freedom of movement: 8+2+1+5+10=26 healed) before continuing his flight across the arena. Jindl casts a spell and gains the ability to walk on the winds. Jindle moves closer to Harvester but keeps a pillar between them. [Round 11 http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/bios/james_lipton.jpg: Well then Jindl. If the Sponsor exists, and you could meet him, what would you say? http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/guests/BenicioDelToro.jpg: Hmm. There are those who say the sum of our existence in this world is a type of…a test from the Sponsor. I guess I’d say…why? The harvesters swords attack(s1: 8+15=23 vs. 24, 18+10=28, 4+5=9, S2: 3+15=18, 15+10=25, 14+5=19 dmg: 6+6+6=18) and strike a positively devilish blow to Jindl. The harvester summons one last sword (S3: 1!, 10+10=20, 9+5=14) then moves to maintain distance between himself and Jindl and Jindl’s summons. Jindl moves to the center of the arena and casts produce flame. Round 12 Grames: And Harvester, what is your favorite word? http://www.ojai.net/swanson/images/03-30-01_capt_people_walken_small.jpg: Bunny. Swords, swords, I like swords (S1: 7+15=22 vs. 24, 14+10=24, 3+5=8, S2: 19+15=34-confirm: 13+15=28, 7+10=17, 15+5=20, S3: 10+15=25, 4+10=14, 1! Dmg:6+4+3+4+12=29). The harvester moves and then casts a flamestrike of his own (ref: 5+3base+2dex+4res=14 vs. 18 fail dmg: 2+6+4+3+3+6+1+6+1+4=29) but it isn’t quite as large as Jindl’s. To help protect himself from further attacks the druid casts a scale thickening spell. Round 13 Grames: Jindl, what is your least favorite word. http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/guests/BenicioDelToro.jpg: Hmm…city. So short but so ugly… The three swords jab jab jab (S1: 13+15=28 vs. 28, 11+10=21, 17+5=22, S2: 6+15=21, 8+10=18, 8+5=13, S3: 12+15=27, 18+10=28, 15+5=20, dmg: 6+5+6=17). The harvester then draws his bow and fires a single shot as Nightingale continues its circuit around the arena. (4+18-4=18 vs. 28). Jindl moves 15 ft closer (within 120) and flings a ball of fire in the harvester’s direction (7+8+4=19 vs. 11 dmg: 6+5=11 absorbed). Round 14 Grames: So Harvester…in the whole wide world…what turns you on? http://www.ojai.net/swanson/images/03-30-01_capt_people_walken_small.jpg: …The harvester does not reply Three swords, one druid…tune in 9 pm on Fox for the smash hit sitcom Stab! (S1: 20! Confirm: 6+15=21 vs. 28, 2+10=12, 5+5=10, S2: 17+15=32, 11+10=21, 6+5=11, S3:16+15=31, 5+10=15, 8+5=13 dmg: 7+3+6=16) Harvester fires thrice (2+18-4=16, 13+13-4=22, 16+8-4=20) but misses. Jindl throws fire (13+12=25 vs.11, dmg: 5+5=10 absorbed) and then shrinks down to large size as animal growth ends. The shock of this causes Jindl to suffer a fatal stroke and die. Epilogue http://www.bravotv.com/images/Inside_the_Actors_Studio/bios/james_lipton.jpg: Well I think that’s all the time we have left for today. If I could just say one thing before you both leave. Harvester-your speech to a dying Jindl was a work of heart wrenching poetry. All the more poignant that it was then you chose to reveal your true purpose to the arena. And Jindl though you had died hurt and alone you were gracious to the end. Your simple rhyming couplet-composed on the spot as were the 7 previous haikus you had used to describe your actions or simply to comment on the weather-left just the right touch of bittersweet on a terrible day. I think I and everyone else in the audience can agree that to listen to you together was comparable to seeing the face of god and having him smile. I and every gladiator who has lived thanks you both. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 09:28 PM | As an apithizer for the two upcoming topfights of Otzi vs Kiowen and Paul vs Donkey, two rather unknown gladiators enter the arena, their big melee weapons promising plenty of bloodshed. Aramil Dunskar has just been released from the mental assylum where he had spent the last five years for thinking he was a cleric. He still does but funds are short these times so they released half of their patients, and kept the more serious ones, Iku Rex for example who thinks himself a cornugon. On the other side an ordinary elf with no apparent problems other than a crazed madman entered the dome. The usual pixie sacrifice announced the beginning. With no other threat in sight Aramil focuses his defense then drops to his knees and bowed up and down, praying to his non-existent god for divine favor. Of course, Aramil had no deity nor was he a cleric so it wasn`t a big surprise that nothing happened other than making the psycho angry. Nivek watched this scene with a worried look, first of all because he couldn`t decipher the writings on the scroll of entangle he had planned to cast, and secondly because on the other side of the scroll was a secret contract written and signed by him to kill the poor sod kneeling in the dirt. That was because the prize for a victory was set to 200 gold so he didn’t refuse when the assylum’s proprieter offered him a nice extra income if he would rid the hospital of Aramil (who would surely be returned after the public witnesses his state of mind). Nivek moved into position and with a sigh he released the arrow. With a grimace of joy Aramil watched open-mouthed as his muscles began to buldge up and down everytime he willed his biceps to do so. “Hhnngg hhnngg” he laughed to the imaginary ape sitting on his shoulder and to further show that he was the favorite cleric of his deity (Bob’s the name) he tried to conjure a mighty forcefield that would block all incomming blows! Just to be on the safe side he held a piece of wood infront of himself which he named “shield of faith”, even mistook it for the requested forcefield a second later. Nivek shaked his head in disbelief about the incredible luck the madman had when he bowed down just in the moment his arrow was about to connect with his left eye. He nocked another arrow and released the shaft. “Bob says you should prove your worth by killing an elf!” the ape said, and Aramil stopped digging in the sand, even spit out the half-eaten grasshopper, for coincidently there was an elf in sight so he jumped up and ran towards him. Nivek couldn`t believe his misfortune that his arrow failed again and thought it would be better to hurry up a bit with the massive human approaching but the arrow got stuck into the wooden board he held infront of him just before it could fly into his left eye. The arrow still dealt some damage because Aramil frequently hit the plank against his forehead during the run, all the while singing praises to Bob. Spurred by his imaginary ape the follower of Bob ran on… Nivek licked his lips and nocked another arrow, this time taking great pains and time to perfectly aim the arrow at a vital spot and it indeed embedded itself in the left eye …of a spectator as the arrow passed through the malfunctioning forcefield which should protect the crowd from any harm, and Arena organizer Joe now knew what he had forgotten to do. Impossibly wide opened eyes and a grimace of madness approached the now sweating elf who tried his luck again, after all the target was just 10 ft away – just like with his daily archery training and scorred the first hit since three weeks. Though Nivek had tried to confuse Aramil by throwing a stick in a random direction his foe wasn’t so easily distracted. Per request of Bob’s divine emissary (the ape) Aramil charged the elf and hit the nail on the head – this time on Nivek’s. A bit dizzy from the impact of the naily plank he lost his hold on the nocked arrow which coincindetly flew in Aramil’s left eye. Aramil dropped to the floor while Nivek raised his hands in a gesture of victory, praising his shooting abilities to the crowd. Heavy breathing from next to him interrupted his mirth though: the crazy madman was still alive!! Nivek couldn`t believe his eyes and when he realized that the referees were not going to end this match until one is dead he fired one arrow after another at Aramil - even hitting him once in the big toe – then continued to use Aramil’s arrows until they were depleted too. Nivek is declared the winner (death by starvation) and wins the purse of 200 gold plus 5000 gold from his secret contract with the assylum proprieter. He had to pay 2000 gold to the family of the killed spectator, 1000 for the silence of someone who knew of the contract, lost the rest in the casino, then robbed out an old grandma who just wanted to bring 3000 goldpeices to the bank and lost 300 on his way home. |
| Scribelords08-23-05, 09:30 PM | In the distant future civilization has collapsed in a fiery nuclear inferno. But man is a hardy beast and both the best and the worst struggle to survive in the blasted wastes. Food is scarce, but ammunition plentiful. It is on one day-Christmas eve in fact, though few recognized or remembered what it was- that two ragged foes locked horns on the blasted glowing waste that used to be the city of Chicago. A Mk-8 Grimlock class hunter killer robot waits in minimal function mode in a burned out church. A few feat to its left a make shift generator hums rhythmically. A ragged looking power cord stretches from the generator to the robot. Grimlock’s optical sensors are trained on a dim green LED on the top of the generator. A few days ago it read 3%. Now it was 2%. It had little time left, and though the Mk-8 was incapable of most human emotions it knew frustration and its circuits burned with it. Meanwhile Paul Hector, mailman and for many the only hope for survival was cutting through Chicago on a vital mission. The self proclaimed king of Illinoise wss dying and when he went the fragile oasis of peace he’d carved out the ruins of his state would vanish. Paul had heard of a clinic in Detroit, Michigan that-unlike the others-still stood. Word was that every gang in a 100 miles would protect it with their lives and so the Dr.’s there managed to do a lot of good work. Paul carried blood samples and what the king remembered of his medical record. It was a long shot-but it was all he had. An early warning system and at light speed the signal reach the Grimlock. Within .204 seconds the signal was analyzed, categorized and identified. A Pegasus model hover bike; Maximum velocity 366 kilometers an hour. Powered by a lifetime supply of uranium. Guaranteed for at least 100 years of heavy operation. Within .191 seconds the Mk-8 was acting on this information. Flood lights scattered for miles through out the rubble activated and trained themselves on the bike and its rider. 4 loudspeakers, barely functioning with scavenged batteries intonened, “Attention human operator of the Pegasus class vehicle, serial number 181-99-1396, it is required for the continued operation of this unit. You will release it to me now. If you do so, you may leave with your life. Refuse and die.” This was bad and Paul was beginning to realize it might be very very bad. He was miles into the city now and he’d seen no sign of this creature before. He didn’t know the area since the bombs fell and if he ran it was all to likely he’d hit a booby trap or 3. Pegasus’s sensors had been overloaded by the light glare but with a quick recalibration he got the scanners working long enough to pinpoint the source of the broadcast. Paul blinked twice and let out a low whistle in spite of himself. He’d herd rumors of the Grimlocks in the service, but nothing this bad. It was at least 8ft tall and covered top to bottom in thick overlapping armor desigined to deflect shots from tank cannons while remaining maneuverable. Speed wasn’t great compared to the Pegasus but he recalled something about an option jet pack attachment. The worst part was the arms. 7 of them. 2 were mounted with large cannons that looked like they could shoot down the moon. The rest a collection of claws knives and grinding devices he didn’t want to think about at the moment… ”Human!” the static charged voice intoned again. “You have 10 seconds to decide, or I will open fire.” Paul had only one choice. The king needed him. Really, it was no choice; it was just the inevitable end of the path he walked. He loaded his rifle and got ready to fly. 9 seconds later the automaton open fired. Ponderous gears grinding, the Mk-8 moves for the 1st time in 7 months. Its primary cannon lowers and fires in a precisely calculated shot meant to disable the Pegasus. There was a 97.1% probability that the nuclear pile would survive the fall. .2% that its owner would. Paul tries to hit the side rockets but he can’t fast enough and the Pegasus shudders under the shot. Blue plasma is forced out side ventricles, scorching the ground beneath him and propelling him up and perhaps out of range of the killer robot. Quickly he activates defensive programs and a targeting protocol. He hopes its enough. The range finder of the Mk-8 began to emit a piercing electronic squeal and (frustration circuits tripped again) it silences them. The situation was poor. But its directives were clear-without overriding orders priority A was survival under all circumstances. Both cannons leveled now the mechanical monstrosity fired approximately 7000 rounds in a 10 second period. Buildings crumbled. Feral dogs and dog like things ran shrieking into the night. The smoke of impact obscured any sign of the human. With a crash the empty cartridges ejected and the Mk-8 prepared to reload and gather salvageable material from the downed craft. Under the cover of a toppled skyscraper Paul smiled. The self repair program took care of the moderate damage and while the Grimlock reloaded its armor would open for just a moment. A weak spot-maybe 5 inches wide. You had to be a hell of a shot to get it. He remembered the brutal block to block fighting of Berlin. There were Grimlocks there too…Mk-5’s maybe but just the same. It was a chance but his only one right now. Assuming the manufacturers hadn’t corrected the flaw that is… With a super sonic screech the Pegasus shot forward and feet locked into place Paul fired his plasma rifle in quick 3 round bursts. The 1st burst slams into a supporting column at the Mk-8’s side and slags it. Molten steel pools about the Mk-8’s massive legs. The 2nd and 3rd crisscross the creatures face plate and reduce much of it to wreckage-decorative though it was. The 4th clips a grasping claw and sends it snapping into the radioactive dust. “Damn” whispers Paul as his eyes glance back and forth at the ammo reader. A hidden cannon flips forth from Grimlocks under side and the shot clips a wing. “Stay on target!” screams Paul as he narrows his eyes in fierce determination and gut wrenching fear. Blow after Blow is deflected off carefully shaped armor but as it moves with terrifying speed to dodge or absorb the shots, its ammo port remains open. “Desist human! Your death will be largely painless!” A shot catches Grimlock in a sensitive joint and the whole of his processes seem on the verge of melt down. With a yank on the cord it pulls the generator to its side and depresses the over ride button. The read out drops to 1% and a few rents in his armor begin to self seal. “oh no you don’t!” shouts Paul and another shot strikes the same hole in the joint detaching another slashing/crushing arm. A mechanical fist slams into the top of the generator and the LED drops to .5% 2 shots in the rear and snow begins to sparkle on the Mk-8’s sensors… “*click* Hu-*click* Man! De-*click* De-*click* please *zzzzztttt*” 3 rust stained arms move to shelter its prime operating center, as a triumphant human drops 130 feet in 4 seconds pulls out of a 90 degree dive and levels the barrel of his rifle at 5 inches of exposed sparking circuits. The Mk-8 sees the white hot blow come and then it sees nothing…and all it will ever see is nothingness. At full speed Paul charges off. When those old war units blow you don’t want to be within a ½ mile of them. Short a clip or so of ammo, but alive. Alive with him is a cargo of hope. Of peace. Of the future. |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 02:09 AM | Ethendril: The Lich King, Part I “Masster…” “Massssster…where are you?” “SSSSsssssss…I hate it when you do thiss, Masster.” Umbra kept its voice quiet, yet it knew Zorander could hear. Umbra’s flickering eye sockets scanned the top of the hill where it had last seen Zorander. Umbra could see the body heat of all living things: the birds, mice, and other wildlife in the area. But Zorander remained undetected. “Cursse you, Masster…show yourssself!” After a few more moments of searching, Umbra caught the flicker of movement as Zorander’s eyes moved slightly. “There you are, Massster. You know I hate that. The elf you sseek is approaching…” - “I know, Umbra. I saw him five minutes ago.” Zorander Broganden was not sure what to expect today. Rumors had circulated about the lair of a lich, named Vaarkalikax, in the area. Normally Zorander would not concern himself with such matters, but the young fighter he had dispatched, Allian Silversword, had not been heard from in days. Zorander had come himself to investigate the disappearance. Now he hid watching the entrance of the crypt, its shadowy entrance set in the hillside. Whether this Vaarkalikax was truly undead had been disputed. Zorander knew only that he was, or rather had been, an elf. And Zorander knew how to kill elves. “Watch for his approach, Umbra. Attack him on my mark.” Ebelin Barnahdy crept cautiously forward. The undead sentry he spied had sunk into the ground before he could cast a magic missile. Perhaps the rumors were true. Though Ebelin had only recently returned from the Tarerian Depths of Carceri, disturbing rumors had brought him here shortly after his arrival. Almost immediately after his appearance at the courts of the Celestial Forces, Dusk had reported to him the rumors that undead roamed the area, and that the Sword of Kas, an unholy artifact once wielded by Vecna’s treacherous vampire lieutenant, had resurfaced in the hands of a self-styled Lich King, Vaarkalikax. While this rumor was perhaps easily dismissed, Skymoon had also reported that a paladin of his order, Kith Deathscythe, had encountered Vaarkalikax. While Kith thought Vaarkalikax defeated, the lich still walked the land. Perhaps the lich indeed had a phylactery to which its life force was tied. Furthermore, Kith had come away from the encounter tainted, and seemed more aloof…somehow darker. Now that he had seen the undead shadow, Ebelin was more certain that the rumors were true. Nearing the entrance of the crypt, he scanned the hillside, thinking that perhaps he should have brought some clerics with him. “We mussst attack NOW, Massster. If he iss a lich, he will be powerful indeed. ATTACK, Masster!” With these words, the patch of mobile gloom sped forward, leaving Zorander to curse behind him. Suddenly a billowing cloud of fog, thicker than even liquid, obscured all of Zorander’s vision. He moved, or rather swam, through the fog, searching to again see daylight. Umbra sped forward impetuously, ready to defend its master. Ebelin saw the undead sentry speeding forward, and acted quickly to eliminate the lich he had seen further up the hill. Rubbery, black tentacles sprung from the ground beneath the unnatural fog, and Ebelin hoped this would give him time to deal with the shadow he saw moving toward him. Suddenly, however, the shadow sank into the ground. Searching wildly around him, Ebelin could not see the shadow. Suddenly it sprang from the ground in front of him, and reached its icy hand into his chest, grasping his heart, which skipped several beats and almost took even Ebelin’s life. Barely able to move, Ebelin stepped back. He drew a rod from his robes, which he pointed at the shadow. “Now taste of death, foul creature,” said Ebelin, and pointed the rod at the creature’s flickering face, disintegrating it. Cautiously, Ebelin moved forward, casting preparatory spells to strengthen him as he moved. He neared the top of the hill, where he could hear the lich grappling the tentacles. Fearful of the lich’s power, Ebelin cast his most powerful protective wards, then transformed himself into a beast, like a huge worm with dozens of insectoid legs, faceted eyes, and a wide mouth brimming with jagged teeth. The back of his head bristled with a pair of winglike fins. After a few more moments, all was quiet. Ebelin watched vigilantly through his faceted eyes, seeing many images of the fog cloud before him. Quickly, the lich left the fog, and Ebelin pounced as the lich fired death-magic at him, destroying many of his protective wards. Ebelin opened his maw wide, saliva dripping off his many teeth, and swallowed the lich whole. Zorander screamed as he felt the heat of the creatures gizzard overwhelm him. Darkness engulfed him as he clawed at the creature’s vile innards, unable to make an effective escape. “Umbra!” were the last words he spoke before he knew no more. Ebelin fell to ground, his strength sapped. Behind him, Ebelin did not see a shadowy figure, dressed in rich, tattered robes, silently leave the crypt. Its skeletal hands gripped a massive greatsword. It watched Ebelin intently for a moment, then with an arcane gesture was gone. Caterane: The Lich King, Part II Ebelin tried to stand up, and did so with great effort; after all, he had to persue the Lich but after no more than three steps his legs failed to support his weight and he fell again to the ground. Again, he tried to stand up, and this time it proved to be much easier when two strong arms supported him. “Please, fellow Tel’Quessir, stay on the ground and rest. You are greatly weakened and in no shape to confront anyone.” the stranger – a wood elf – replied. ”Who is the one that comes to my aid when I need it the most?” – “I am Allian Silversword, member of the Brotherhood of the Bow. I watched your fight against the undead sentry, but it was over before I could come to help you, brother. But now I am here, and I will stay and guard you until you regained your strength.” – ”No, friend, you must hurry quicker than the wind for the one reeking of decay is in the vicinity still” Ebelin answered for he had correctly identified the spell as a short range teleport ”If this creature of darkness…” – “Speak no more, friend, for no more words are needed to make me understand my mission. I will return to your side once I have dealt with the lich.” The two elfs looked each other in the eyes once again for it wasn`t sure at all that they`ll meet again, then Allian ran into the direction Ebelin nodded. ”May the gods hold their gentle hand over your head” the bladesinger said with sadness in his voice… Allian Silversword sneaked through the undergrowth, silently as a shadow but swift as the wind still. He knew the lich was near for his keen elven ears picked up an arcane ritual. Though he knew nothing about magic he was sure that nothing good would come from a dweomer of an undead. Because of the dense forestation his vision was limited to a couple of feet. Swords in hand he advanced… then silence! A glowing bolt of pure energy flew towards Allian! Honed reflexes let him drop to the ground and he was sure he evaded the course of the missile so his surprise was all the greater when the homing missile altered its direction and directly impacted on Allian’s back. Gritting his teeth from the pain he felt, he lifted himself up again and checked his surroundings; if the lich was able to see him, then he should be able to do likewise with his keen vision. And he spotted him! Not wanting to waste precious time he charged the undead both swords extended and leading the way… The lich lord’s hands began to circulate, drawing prismatic lines in the air, and when he pointed at the now close Allian an inferno of colors came from his nigh skeletal hands and uneeringly covered the elf. This time Allian was prepared for dark magic so he managed to keep focused on his task.. Swords still extended forward he added an elven warcry and ran right into the evil lich. His ornate elven blades of finest made were prefectly aimed at the lich’s chest and any living man would`ve been dead right away but Allian got a bad surprise when they didn`t penetrate the lich’s frail looking body… Glowing red dots focused on still shocked Allian, then they focused on his bow and something like a grin formed on the gaunt face of the abomination, the reason: Allian’s bow came to life! It lifted itself into the air, an arrow nocked itself into the string which pulled itself back as if an unseen force guided it, and released the shaft from point blank range. The arrow embedded itself into Allian’s leg. “What dark magic is this!?” the woodelf said with wide-opened eyes but this also increased his determination in slaying the thing. Unfortunately, his swords – despite quite some good aims – were absolutely unable to penetrate the lich’s many defenses. Allian tried to hit at the bow but too quick it was. Even when he sprang behind a tree the animated bow followed him, and when it was finally in position it fired another arrow, taken from Allian’s own quiver. Allian saw no other chance as to kill the lich in hope that it would stop the eery bow but again, his weapons were unable to even get close to the monster! Desperation began to rise within him. *thong* the bowstring made but this time the arrow missed its target, something Allian thought impossible after all this strange homing magic. Perhaps there was even a weakness in the lich’s defenses? He made a double spin: once to the left, and strike then to the right and strike. Of course, this did confuse the lich for it was no experienced melee fighter like Allian but there was no need that he reacted to it with all this protections up. The bow adjusted his position again and fired one of Allain’s elven fletching arrows into the back of his leg. And still, Allian stood, and even continued to attack – though without his pirouettes from before which didn`t do him any good too. “I will not fail” Allian gasped but his words carried less convinction than he would`ve like them to have. The one-sided battle – if the lich’s game could be called that way – went on for a while but then Allian succumbed to his many wounds and dropped to his knees. The bow circled around him, once, twice, then stopped right before him and pulled back… Epilogue: Half a mile away, Ebelin leaned against a tree, still weakened from the shadows touch. He had prayed all the time since Allian left, prayed to Correlon Larethian to grant his unknown friend the strength he needed to beat the lich but then, in the middle of his prayer he stopped and opened his eyes. He felt… he knew that something terrible just happened to his fellow elf. Three hours later, Skymoon landed near Ebelin. ”Ebelin, by all the gods! You`re injured!” the paladin said, dismounted and began to heal the bladesinger’s wounds ”My wounds are many though they are not seen by the eye.” – “Believe me, my friend, my eyes see more than that, penetrating the shell that is our body. I`m glad that you called me.” Ebelin let Skymoon heal his wounds ”By the way, what was it that you seeked out in this remote forest?” It took a while until Ebelin answered but then, his answer was so unnaturally serious for the elf that Skymoon even stopped in his task for a moment ”We have a new enemy…” |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 06:45 AM | „So what did my informant learn from his trip to Lord Uther`s house?” Eundas asked the younger drow standing infront of his desk where he rested his boots upon. The upstart shifted nervously from one foot to the other then replied “We`re making great progresses, Eundas. Two of Uther`s advisors defected to our side, and soon the famous paladin…” Rak’ema spit on the ground after mentioning this cursed word “…will be dead, with us leaving in charge of the Oathguards when our dopplegangers take his position.” Eundas sipped at the glas of wine he held in his hands, then watched it as if he saw something like that for the first time. “An order of knights under our control? Hmmm, delicious! One by one we will assimilate this new gladiator town without them knowing it. Matron Nyseys’si and her allied houses will send two thousand drow warriors as soon as we have some bases established. Ahhh, Rak’ema, great things are going on, and soon you will have your own human slave. But now, return to your duty” The younger drow correctly took this as a dismissal. “and Rak’ema… replace the defectors aswell as soon as they have outlived their usefullness.” Two tier downstairs Akordia sat infront of her crystal ball in her cellar room, from where she had witnessed the report. “I have to warn the humans. My kin will overtake their fair city, or at least kill thousands in the process.” She threw a piece of cloth over the ball and left the room, but not before putting on a disguise. It took her several hours, some hundred silver for information, and a great amount of her flirting skills to get the information she needed but in the end, she knew to whom she had to go: Kage Nightwind was a member of the Oathguards, and a most loyal one at that. He proved to be an intelligent young man who was completely dedicated to the knightly order, and protecting the innocents. Upon hearing of a drow coup he immideately wanted to arrange plans to protect the order. “Wait Kage!” Akordia said “If we act to obvious, my kin will be alarmed and this might spoil our chance in getting them.” – “But it assures savety of the order” – “Only a temporary one. And even if this is true, then you only redirected their plans to another guild, other innocents must die!” That was of course something Kage couldn`t allow “Well, the Oathguards are here to protect the weak. Your plan might not be our way of approaching things but the result would be the same noble goal.” – “I will meet you tomorrow night, when the moon is full, and provide you the necessary plans of my kin so that you and your order might prepare for their assault.” Kage nodded, they both clasped wrists, then Akordia left as silently as she came, returning to the drow`s base of operation, an organization already taken over: the Black Knives assassin’s guild. When she entered her big room down in the cellar she found her cousin sitting at her table. “You`ve are out late in the night” Kazeira remarked. “I…uh…had things to do.” – “What things?” – “That`s none of your concern.” Akordia went to a drawyer and took out some things just to seem occupied with something. “Is there really nothing? For weeks now you seem to be …changed.” Kazeira stood behind Akordia, laying a hand on her shoulder “Remember your position, male! I am a priestess of Lolth, and I will whip your offensive words out of…” Kazeira held a finger to her lips “Sssshh.” Akordia went silent. The male drow took a few steps away from her, rounding the table where he ‘accidently’ removed the piece of cloth “Akordia, I am worried about you. We`ve grown up together, we`ve trained together, we had spent hours running through the tunnels, playing, laughing… I know that something`s wrong with you. I just want to help you!” Akordia hesitated for a moment, then she said “There is indeed something but I must know that I can trust you.” Kazeira took her hands in his, and gave her a warm smile “Akordia, I am your cousin!” The female sighed, looked to the floor for a second, then began to tell… “I am a member of the sineaters, an Ellistrae worshipping order of good-aligned drow. Our goal is to return our race to the path of righteousness and goodness, and we accomplish this by taking on the sins of captured evil drow. Once their sins are reveiled to them most fall to their knees and beg forgiveness for their deeds, and in the end they`ll join our ranks. Our race has fallen so far from grace, dwelling miles upon miles below the surface, and even there plotting against each other. We are holding other races as slaves, torturing and maiming them for our pleasure…” Kazeira didn`t understand what should be wrong with the last sentence but he kept silent and let her go on “…and I have witnessed the evil deeds of the wicked spider queen. My heart broke a thousand times, and I fear it will break the same amount again until our kin is freed.” – “No, Akordia, it won`t break that often again.” A familiar voice said, and then she heard the clapping of hands *clap* *clap* *clap* “My dear Akordia” Eundas said who suddenly came out of the wall. He snapped his fingers once, and the illusionary wall disappeared behind which the drow leader, I’ardia the Lolth high priestess, Queonn’o the old archmage, and Esamshy the psion had stood. Akordia`s heart nearly stopped but then she found her composure again. “I knew that there was a spy in our midst but I would`ve never thought that it is you who betrays us, tststs.” – “I am not the traitor but you, and your damn band of murderers and cutthroats. You are a traitor to all that`s good, and you dare to call me that way? Ha! I have already arranged things to stop your mad plans, and they will be stopped!” – “Do you want me to kill her?” Queonn’o the mage asked. “Wait, I can torture her in a thousand amusing ways” Esamshy opposed but Eundas just shook his head “No, I have someone else who will kill her.” – “Forget it Eundas! I am prepared for such an eventuality! Kazeira! Catch!” With the speed and grace of (a) cat she pulled something from her robes, threw it towards Kazeira, and invoked sphere of darkness, all in the same second. Thick blackness arose and obscurred vision “BREAK THE ITEM I GAVE YOU TWICE, KAZEIRA! IT WILL TRANSPORT US OUT OF HERE TO SAVETY. I`LL HOLD THEM BACK!” Akordia shouted and invoked a protective spell that kept the evil drows at bay for a second. She focused all her willpower on the barrier until she couldn`t hold it any longer. Then her darkness was dispelled, and let vision return. Nothing had changed. Everyone was still standing on the very same spot, including Kazeira. “Cousin! Break the item” she said again but the male drow just stood there, holding the item before his eyes “This is a most interesting device you have here, cousine” Kazeira said, then threw the refuge stone to Eundas. “B…b..but Kazeira, w…what are you doing?” – “Taking your place, of course!” Kazeira laughed. “For a decade now I have waited for the perfect opportunity; I had to force me laughing when you laughed despite my wish to hit you squarely in the face, I had to play with you and keep myself from putting a dagger between your rips, but I didn’t. I waited for this very moment, and it fills my heart with joy to see yours break for the last time.” While Eundas applauded again Akordia just stood there motionless. “And now you die” Kazeira announced, then jumped behind one of the crates where he vanished. Akordia`s first reaction was to flee but she found all exits blocked by drow soldiers. Then she wanted to attack Eundas and his consorts – though they may be powerful – she could at least hope to get a lucky strike before she would die but she found that they were protected by a wall of force the wizard had errected infront of them. “Na na na, Akordia. You focus on the wrong foe. I really cannot see why you want to attack us when the real traitor hides within this very room!?” Eundas said “But since I am a generous man, I want to make you an offer. You see your refuge stone? Queonn’o will teleport it into Kazeira`s pocket. Now if you can get it back then you are free to go. Use your stone to escape us; we have more important things to do than to track you in the whole world. Quenn’o?” The wizard made a few gestures and the stone vanished from Eundas`hand. Of course, the mage merely rendered it invisible but she couldn`t know that. To Akordia this was her only chance of alarming the humans, and getting out alive, so she concentrated on the cellar room. Everything was quiet. Like a grave. Though her darkvision enabled her to see without light sources she couldn`t make out her cousin. She turned left, then right, turned around, but she couldn`t hear anything. She made a few steps towards the center of the room, casted a protective shield around her, and prepared for the attack. The next minute seemed like an hour but then, she heard something snap and refelxively turned into this direction, only to see Kazeira run in her direction. But she was prepared. With a slight gesture and a short and fervent prayer to Ellistrae – the goddess of good drow – she weaved a morale destroying dweomer on her cousin, hoping that this would convince him to break off with the attack. But it didn`t (though he felt the pressure of her spell!). He ran towards her and jumped the last few feet, holding his great falchion high, and if Akordia had had any doubts that Kazeira won`t harm his own kin these doubts vanished when he brought the weapon down. But Akordia had Cat`s reflexes and was able to roll to the side before the sword could cleave her head in two. She still didn`t want to harm him so she closed her eyes, invoked a prayer that roused the deepest fears within a being and directed the magic at Kazeira to scare him away. But the past events had broken her heart and without the necessary dedication her spell was easy to resist, and so Kazeira attacked again. The cleric knew that there was only one way of getting her stone back: she had to fight Kazeira, bring him to unconsciousness, take the refuge stone, and teleport both of them out of here – to the Sineaters who will be able to help him, and so she drew her rapier. For the first minute Akordia only blocked incoming blows, parrying what she could and kept Kazeira at bay. But Kazeira was a magnificent fighter, trained in Melee-magtere, the famous drow school for warriors. Left and right the slashes went, a feint high, a parry low, then a complete turn with a slash to her arm, and Akordia was forced back step by step, until finally one of Kazeira`s slashes broke through her defenses, and dealt a viscous gash across her ripcage. The clean cut stole Akordia`s breath and let her stumble and nearly trip across a low crate but she managed to get a hold on a barrel. She used her unwilling backward momentum to propell the barrel forward which toppled over and released its liquid in Kazeira`s direction who was just about to give her the finishing strike. The liquid rolled out under him and he had to invest all of his concentration to keep himself standing. That brought Akordia the time to heal some of her wounds. They circled each other, making feint attacks just to withdraw a step before the other one could attack, then it was Kazeira again who lead the assault. He let his blade circle around his hand once, twice, thrice, then made a complete pirouette which was another feint and hit low. Akordia was again taken offguard and couldn`t bring her blade down to block the cut against her leg. She hobbled a few feet back. Kazeira took this as a good chance to end this fight but this time it was Akordia who had feinted him. The moment Kazeira started forward Akordia did likewise but unlike her cousin she was prepared for the sudden shortened distance between them, and so when they crashed together Kazeira was surprised and even more so when Akordia brought the hilt of her rapier down on his nose, splatting it flat on his cheek. Kazeira lay dazzled on the floor and tried to regain his senses. Instinctively he drew a healing potion which aided him there in. Akordia could have finished him during that time but so shocked she was when she realized that she had hurt her beloved cousin that she hesitated. Hesitated too long. Kazeira leapt to his feet again and attacked her with all the anger and hate he had gathered in the past decade, and this lended him exceptional strength. Again and again his blade came crashing down on her thin rapier, sending shockwaves along the blade to her fingers that grew numb over time. One and two, and three and four, the slashes and feints made a deadly dance, and finally one of these slashes found an opening: the falchion drew a deep cut across Akordia`s back that burned like thousand fires, and nearly made her lose consciousness. A reflexive prayer prevented her from the downfall, but the wound didn’t close. With minimum life she stood there facing Kazeira who prepared for the next attack. Akordia knew that she had to act or she will be dead within another minute. With a cry born out of desperation she threw herself forward, equalling the ferousity of her cousin. This unknown outburst surprised the male that much that he was thrown offguard, and payed with a gash across his stomach. Blood soaked through Kazeira`s shirt at an alarming pace. The fighter gathered all his remaining strength and tried to keep up his defenses. And how he needed it! Left right up down feint down up up center hit! Akordia showed a level of swordmanship never seen before within these rooms, and Kazeira was the one how had to learn this the hard way. He already bled from many wounds, his left arm was hanging limbly by his side, one eye completely robbed of vision by a flow of blood that passed over it, and these weren`t the only wounds he had suffered. After another few seconds he dropped to the floor, heavily breathing. “Halt!” he gasped to advancing Akordia and held a hand out in defense “Perhaps you`re right, cousin.” He gasped through ragged breaths, blood trickling from his mouth, and Akordia lowered her weapon. She searched her pockets for a healing potion and lead it to his mouth. With every gulp another of Kazeira`s wounds closed and though they were many, he was at least out of life threatening danger. But Akordia wasn`t. At first she didn`t realize what happened but then she saw the curved blade that stuck in her chest up to the hilt. She wanted to say something but couldn`t because her mouth was full of her own blood. Her eyes went wide, denying the betrayal of her cousin, then they lost their focus on him. And Akordia`s heart broke for the last time… |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 06:53 AM | Matei screams, “FIRE IN THE DISCO!” hoping to bewilder Dusk with a lightning set of high kicks and hip swings but to no avail. That failed he shoe walks to the closest table, “shucks man that cat is wack!” Dusk aint no fool, he stands up and shouts, “You watch yo back wack cat!” and starts slowly walking to a table. It takes a while, cuz he walks a slow, like a real hip cat. To chill out along the way he takes a sniff at something on his finger, and seems all like, happy afterwards. Matei starts to shake, “watch it man, I’m freaking!” then proceeds to release Intensly Hot, Solid Gold, DANCE! But compared to Dusk’s Jazz Hands he’s nothing. Dusk know that if he wants to win he will have to tame the Savage Tiger of Jazz Dance. “EYE OF THE TIGER!”he shouts, while at the same time raising his hands-fingers arched-and baring his teeth, to resemble some sort of man/tiger a fearsome foe indeed! Matei scowls, “Well I don’t need fearsome words to express myself, I have the intense heat of my dance moves! But to himself he wondered-was his heat intense enough? Dusk wondered too-if he didn’t tame the tiger, who would? Matei screams, “Dancesplosion!” but finds that somehow-despite heavy casualties all around-Dusk was unharmed! Dusk smiles, he’d been ready for the assault and cleverly shielded himself with a cunning use of Jazz hands! Matei smiles, now would be his chance for revenge. This would show Dusk for daring to challenge his Heat! Dusk went right for the throat, pulling out all his signature moves, each one containing more raw heat than the last. Matei was in trouble, but he wouldn’t stop now, not when the Heat was on! A sharp intake of breath greated this new assault but Dusk tried to give as good as he got, pulling out a One Man Conga Line segued into a Sugar Foot Funk/Shorty George medley, then a Graham technique version of a Mashed Potato/Funky Chicken with rond de jambe accents. The heat was pouring down like the dancer’s sweat, but damn him if he was gonna blink! Matie pulled out a little something like this: http://www.nationallampoon.com/nl/03_voices/solid_gold/dance.jpg Dusk answered with 50 flawless Primitive Squat pirouettes. It was getting close and Matei needed a finisher-something dangerous. But dusk was thinking the very same! Matei went for a ferocious move called Chocolate Fury. Dusk scowled giving Matei all trillion mega-watts of the Eye of the Tiger, “this isn’t over!”. And in the face of the tiger Matei found his freakin’ faltering. Matei was worried now, “I need a breather!” he sighed while fluttering his hands. His eyes spotted just the thing he needed. “Fresca!”, Dusk just laughed, when I need to get cool I just burn off the Heat with Dance! “If you think the Heat has simmered,” Matei said, purple elevated shoes gleaming. “Your wrong!” - “simmered?” scoffed Dusk. “You’ve evaporated! If Matei was going to win he would have to break out his secret reserve stash of dance passion. But Dusk had Tiger-passion to spare. Matei had no choice he went for Lambada, the Forbidden Dance. Dusk winced, he despised Matei, but even from that hate he could tell that Matei was playing a dangerous game. Matei could feel their accusing eyes all around him, “I know what I’m doing!” he yelled, throwing his hairgel across the room. But Dusk new that Matei did not. Desperately Matei tried to quench his thirst. But Dusk wouldn’t have that, “Your playing with Fire Matei, so Burn!” It was Matei’s final moment, he finished off with the most complicated move in the history of Solid Gold dance: Welcome To Planet Phunk, Please Have Your Tickets Ready To Get Busy. It was during this final move, where he went from a Brazilian Shimmy/Snake combo, did a Barrel Jump into a Pelvic Lumberjack Hipbuster, dabbled a little Coffee Grinder hot sauce onto a Pirouette fouetté with the front leg in plié, then pivot-stepped into a Funky Four Corner Toe Fan/Quick Heel Split that he felt the pop. Epilogue Matei had sprained his ankle slightly. He would never dance again. |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:05 AM | "I, Arkin Jozil, Mystic of the Celestial Forces, command you to stand down and right what you have wronged!" the Mystic Theurge shouted to a moss-covered shape standing on the other side of the clearing with enflamed hands. The figure burned with inner power, and an equal passion that made Arkin's feet tremble - weren't it for his determination in ending this. The fight was brief so far and both sides had traded blows but they were far from finshed. The black shadow that accompanied the Avatar of Nature was still looming above her head, hissing threats that sounded in the halflings mind, bolstering his fears and weakening his resolve. "My allies are closer than yours. Surrender now and you may live on to see another day" - "NEVER!!" and Arkin attacked again... But this is not the beginning of our story, nor is it the end. It all began three days ago... Fire. Burning trees. Animals running wild in panic to escape the fiery hell; futilely. The scent of charred flesh and fur assaulted his nostrils. Screams and squeels. A big bear trying to free himself from a fallen log to get out of the way ...of a falling tree. Too late. And in the center of all that, he saw a green face. A female one; not bothered by the flames or the screams of the dying. She turned her head and looked directly in his direction "Aaaarkin" "Arkin!" Arkin rose and grabbed the hand that had touched him, his eyes still sleepy from his nap, but he relaxed at once when he recognized the familiar face of his friend Ebelin. "Disturbing sounds entered my room and I couldn't hold myself back to investigating the source of it." Arkin got up and wished the sweat from his forehead, then went to the bathtub and washed his face. "Every night the same dream." the Mystic of the Celestial Forces said without turning around, though he did so now "This particular vision is one of the future" 'A possible future' he added under his breath though the elf's ears were sharper than any sword in Gladius. "Your eyes see more than mine, my friend, and I can only guess what horrors you have to endure but" "If these are Horrors to me what must they be to the animals that dwell in this region?" Arkin's high voice rose to even higher pitches while he threw his hands up. "I know. Let us discuss this tomorow with Harmoneous Jade and the others. This night is still offering you rest, and you will need it." And as Arkin nodded slowly, Ebelin gave him a friendly smile, and left the room. The (supposed) balance keeper Jindl of the High Forest, Corinthus Avius - a man who delights in setting things afire, Lillith the Avatar of Nature, and the most dreaded common-sense lagger Drak'something sat together in a circle around a campfire made of fresh wood. "Demons and Devils have entered the High Forest from the North." Jindl said "Even worse, undead roam the eastern parts and abominations better left unnamed occupy a large and growing portion of the woods." - "Then we should fight them back" Corinthus said... "with FIRE!! FIRE!" but he was stopped short by Lillith, the green moss-covered avatar of nature, who held up a hand that was shaped like a leaf "If we use fire in the forest we risk burning the trees, and killing animals!" All were silent for a moment, except for Drak'something who was all the while talking to the treestump he was sitting on and explaining his logic to it. After a while Jindl said "Perhaps that's what we have to do to shift the balance back in my... uhm nature's favor. There is a ritual that will cleanse the forest of all unlife, however, of all life too." Now that got even Drak'something's attention: "Why should we clean the forest? We never cared about how dirty it is." and when everyone had ignored him, Jindl continued "This is our only chance. I will initiate the ritual. You have 2 weeks time to warn all forest dwellers about the impending doom. Tell them to leave the woods for some time, and return to a new enviroment once we have finished our job. Now go! Fly as fast as you can!" and all took to the sky... "THEY ARE MAD!!" Arkin was roused from his dreams, again, and stood tall in his bed - all sleepyness washed away. He dressed himself, packed his seven things, and went for the window. He hesitated for just one moment, thinking about telling Ebelin and bringing him along... "Not this time, my friend. This is a mission I have to take on on my own." and he flew out of the window into the nightsky. The next day, Arkin reached the High Forest and soon found himself in an enviroment completely untouched by civilization though he knew that this region was far from deserted. It was a lovely day; the sun stood high in the sky and those few rays that weren't stopped by the green canopy of leaves gently touched his small frame while he waded straight through the undergrowth. Arkin needed no compass, no stars were necessary to navigate in this area where everything looks similar, no, for Arkin was a Mystic and born with an insight few could hope to understand, even among those magnificent creatures he used to live upon. Visions visited him frequently, and he constantly tried to improve his abilities and guide his mind to important events that haven't happened yet. Some say that he is supposed to become a new oracle - a being that can read the folds of fate as easily as other would read a book. And so it was no surprise that Arkin... "Who goes there?" Silence. "I know you are there! Come out!" Rustling in the undergrowth, accompanied by some non-understandable curses, and after a few seconds the creature came into view "Dunno how them damn elfs make 'emselves hiding *spit* when me take that much effort and think me hidden even them damn gnomes gonna see me!" - "An orc?" Arkin's eyes narrowed while his hand went instinctively to his sheated wand at his hip. The orc had a massive build, even for his kin. Asides from his dirty armor, he was covered with all kinds of bushes and vines, apparently to improve his camouflage, even his hair had several leaves and other green braided into it though that looked a bit ...funny. He was armed with a black greatsword made of the rarest of materials - adamantine! - along with several other weapons. Well, he could have stolen it from an unfortunate adventurer but what stroke Arkin as completely odd was the fact that the orc had several magical auras on him, and weren't it for Arkin's contingency spell to detect such things, the halfling wouldn't be able to see the orc at all. "Stand back creature! I am armed with the power of the arcane and divine alike!" but when the orc just sat down and removed the makeshift camouflage while muttering curses in his native tongue, the Mystic relaxed somewhat. "Who ARE you???" - "Me thinks me not the sneakysneak" he replied to no one in particular "Musta been them damn bush. Not big enough to hide Grimlock when even them stupid gnomes see me!" - "I am no gnome!" and for the first time Grimlock looked up, apparently trying to confirm the little ones statement but losing interest quicker than it came up. "I am here to in search of the Avatar of Nature. Lillith by name. Do you know anything about her?" - "Missa never seen the greeny-green but me knows where to look for." - "Really? Wow! Can you describe me the way?" - "Nah. Gnomes dunno nothing 'bout them regions 'ere. Grimlock's gonna bring ye there." and before the 'gnome' could reply the massive man was already on his feet and heading westward. During the next two days Arkin and Grimlock - for that was his name - became acquainted with each other and Arkin came to like the orcish brute, even though their discussions weren't about philosophy. Still, Arkin was absolutely fascinated that the orc was capable of getting along in the wilderness, and not to a little extend! He even knew a little about spellcraft! This brought him a lot of respect from Arkin who could only imagine the difficulties in learning arcane theories in this envirement, and with his racial heritage. Grimlock came to respect the halfling aswell when he showed great courage in one of the battles they had during their travels, for Grimlock knew how difficult it has to be to defend oneself when only 3 and a half feet tall. On the third day it was that they parted ways when they came at a natural crossroad. "Here we are. Little gno... halfling go north 'ere and ye'll find them greeny-green ye seek. Grimlock need to go them other way. Visiting me cousin, ye know." - "Grimlock, I wish you the best on your travels, and how knows? Perhaps our ways will meet once again. In any case, you've been a great help!" - "HOHOHOO" he laughed and gave Arkin a pad on the back that was a bit heavier than the Mystic had wished but he nodded politely and went north. It was less than half an hour when Arkin sat down to make a rest and eat something. He retrieved a piece of bread clad in giant leaves out of his backpack and with a smile he thought about the amusing trip together with the orc. Before he could take a bite he grew dizzy. The world began to spin around him, turning upside down, left and right, until he couldn't distinguish anything! And then there was only blackness, a blackness that slowly took shape. Colors returned, now voices could be heard, the vision becoming clearer and clearer... Grimlock waded through the light undergrowth, collecting sticks to improve his latest camouflage idea. "Bet me bigsword that there'em a hunnerd of them elfs hiding 'ere." Grimlock was deep in his thoughts, so at first he didn't notice that there weren't any birdchirps anymore, and even the occasional rustling in the undergrowth was missing. It was his nose though that alerted him. "Come out! Me've seen ...uh smelled ye, and whadda big smell t'was!" but only silence replied. Grimlock whistled twice through his missing front teeth, and it took no more than thirty halfbeats that a great griffon descended from the sky and landed right next to the orc. "Me thinks someone's not wanting to be found but ye surely have a bedda nose than me has so get them damn sneaks!". Unbelievably, the griffon flew off into a direction, obviously fully aware of what the orc had just said. "No! No!" Arkin shaked his head. He wanted to wake up from this dream but he couldn't! What he saw made him tremble even in his current state. The blackness! He saw it now! "Run, my friend!!" The next thing Grimlock heard were screams, screams of pain, dying screams! The screams of a griffon! Instinctively he drew his greatsword and advanced a few steps! He didn't get far: a pressure was growing on him, like an unbearable burden. The pressure increased tenfold with every passing second until Grimlock seemed to collapse under the weight, his mouth wide open in a silent scream; he was paralyzed, unable to move or even caught a single rational thought... Run, my friend!" sounded in his head, ...and the pressure was gone. Free to act and move again, Grimlock advanced into the direction where his griffon flew. He ran but that wasn't necessary anymore because he saw it now! A huge black ...blackness was floating less than 100 feet ahead; the loyal griffon dead at its feet, though the blackness wasn't finished from feasting upon the griffons soul as it had a black tentacle screwed into the corpse. "RRRHHHOOOAAAARRRRR!!" - a sound born out of hate and vengeance, the orc charged the thing, even leaped the last 30 ft and brought the adamantine weapon right down upon the tentacle which dispersed as soon as it had been cleanly severed. Dark hisses assaulted his mind as he found himself face to 'face' with the black void that radiated a malign aura of the uttermost evil that sickened even an orc! Distracted, he couldn't move for a second, nor did he see the new tentacle that just formed around the thing and screwed itself into Grimlock's breast. Grimlock nearly fainted from the shock! His mouth wide opened without a scream coming from it, his eyes clearly portraying the horrors he just felt, ...it was only because of Grimlock's strong rage that he could gather his thoughts. He tightened the grip around his sword that he was just about to drop, opened his eyes even wider, and swung... He brought the magnificent adamantine blade around which connected solidely with the tentacle stuck in his breast, and drew a deep gash, though this time not enough to sever it. And he payed dearly for it! Before he could bring the blade around anew, the time the tentacle remained in his body proved to be lethal. It was unbelievable! Any other humanoid would have been mice-dead at that time but Grimlock clung to his life! His rage the only thing between him and the afterlife he replied with a cry out of the puret desperation, and with the same intensity he brought his greatsword down again. Not only did the blade cut through the tentacle like a knife through butter but the momentum drove it right into the center of the blackness where he had apparently hit a sensitive spot. A cry of pain assaulted his mind and he couldn't help himself but let his weapon drop and cover his ears from the sound, futilely because it sounded in his head! He didn't care anymore. Grimlock's only wish was to die now and end this torture but when he opened his eyes again, the black cloud was gone. That made him a bit puzzled for he expected the thing to finish him at that point. He looked left, he looked right, HE LOOKED BACK! Nothing, although he could still hear the hissing voices in his head. The thing seemed to be gone. Grimlock knew his life-essence was knocking on heaven's door with the terrible drain he had received from the black tentacle and so he drew a healing potion, got up to one knee and retrieved his greatsword. Oh had he only looked up! After the tentacle had burried itself from above into Grimlock's head the blackness descended down on the broken, that was anyhow still alive! Though it was only a matter of seconds when the massive build would collapse. Down on his knees he swayed back and forth, all his strength needed to keep his balance, his head unable to move to look upward, even though he knew what was closing in from that direction. But Grimlock did not give up! He still held the healing potion in his left hand and this hand now move slowly, very slowly towards his mouth and downed the contents while the blackness hovered right above him. It waited. It seemed as if even this vile thing appreciated the endurance of the orc; as if even this being of purest evil had just developed some kind of respect for its helpless prey. After another few seconds of inactivity, it brought another tentacle into position, and ended the fight When Arkin arrived at the spot where Grimlock had fought the thing, he didn't knew how long it had been since the fight was finished; Grimlock surely didn't neither. "Oh my friend! Had I just been here earlier; perhaps I could've saved you." the halfling mourned over the dead body of Grimlock; tears swelling down his cheek. After he had spent some minutes making the final prayers for his friend, he dug out a small hole and buried the dead orc. Just as he had finished piling the last stone on the makeshift grave, he heard a female voice. "I have been watching you, little Arkin..." End of Chapter 1. Chapter 2 "You will soon see the wisdom in it all, little Arkin" the female shape said in a honey sweet voice. While she walked around the clearing, bat-like wings produting from her back. "I will not stand aside and watch you destroy nature, the very thing you are supposed to protect!" "There are things you cannot understand, little Arkin. This is one of them." - "What I do understand is that you look different then how I had read about you in my books, most importantly those bat wings disturb me. Tell me, how did you get them? Is there more to it than I currently know and you are willing to tell?" - "Everything will be fine, little Arkin. Give me your hand and you will understand" and with these words the Nature's avatar came closer. Arkin had to think quick. He closed his eyes, concentrated on some ancient lore about otherworldly things, and invoked a prayer. Four fervent words later he pointed his finger at Lillith and "Nacktamabend" A white glowing globe of energy flew into the moss-covered figures direction and exploded in a flash of blinding and purifying light, rearranging the magical threads around the being and destroying what had shielded the Evil far too long. Though the Nature's avatar's defenses were formidable - and stayed that way - Arkin managed to unveil the reason behind this strange behaviour: a huge shadowy shape arose from behind Lillith and hovered over her; the unspeakable evil that radiated from this thing was nearly unbearable, and before Arkin could react the duo leaped upon him... Whispering voices assaulted his mind, like tendrils they drilled into his head and tried to overwhelm him "NOOO!!!" Arkin shouted in a fit of rage and threw another globe of purifying light, this time at the shadow thing and it was a direct hit. The light enveloped the Evil and tried to quench it completely but the shadow was too strong and after a short struggle, it was free again. Meanwhile, Lillith renewed her protection against fire. Arkin's mind worked, and he knew the shadow thing was too overpowered and unbalanced, and he had to deal with Lillith anyway so he threw the next glowing light-ball at Lillith. The globe hit Lillith directly in the chest and burst apart into the light of a thousand suns, and sapping away much of her power. Her batwings remained though and she made use of them... with a screech born out of hate she leaped at the small halfling and came to a halt just a few inches away from him, the shadow looming dangerously by her side. Arkin was shocked about the speed of the two as he found himself dwarfed by Lillith and the huge shadow behind her. His instincts took over and he tried to flee from the melee that was sure to come. Lillith couldn't reach him but the shadow was a different matter. Dark tentacles extracted and swirled around Arkin, trying to hold him fast and grapple him to the ground but fortunately he had weaved some illusion prior to battle, and one of them just dispersed... The hunt was on with Arkin being the hunted. Left and right he flew with tremendous magic-enhanced speed, all his attention focused on evading the fast incoming trees that passed by, only once in a while risking a glance above his shoulder. After some time he relaxed a bit when he saw the duo growing smaller in the distance. And when he was sure that he was out of harms way he landed and took a moment's breath by leaning on a tree. Then he retrieved an old dusty tome called 'Ancient Evils' from his backpack and browsed the pages, obviously looking for something "Here it is: Shadowbeast, ancient evil beings that roamed the world in the distant past. They excelled in charming people - spellcasters mostly, which is refered to as 'host'. From this most unfortunate ones they stole magical protections which they could duplicate on their own body at the cost of a part of the victims soul. Fortunately, Shadowbeasts were banned from this world 3000 years ago by... The rest of the page is missing! BUT HOW WERE THEY DEFEATED!?" Arkin searched on, and just as he thought he found something (he didn't), he heard a sweet voice behind him. "Little Arkin, why don't you listen to reason and yield to the power of nature. We just want the good for everyone." the moss-covered female said. "Mighty Avatar of Nature! You have fallen prey to an ancient evil that feeds upon your soul. The Shadowbeast, as it is called, tempts you with dark promises and poisons your mind in the process! Resist the intrution and let me help you!" Lillith was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. Just as Arkin was about to blew a sigh of relief, he was surrounded by colored flames that would have reduced anyone else to ashes weren't it for his magical protections. Though the bluegreen flames couldn't penetrate the fireshield they made Arkin clearly visible to everyone within hundreds of feet. Additionally, the Shadowbeast arose from out of Lillith's ears and mouth until it dwarfed her again, and Arkin even more. Just as he thought things couln't go any worse, a screetch from high above in the sky heralded the allies Lillith had talked about earlier. And he saw them now. Three young arrowhawks decended from the sky and passed by Lillith who stood there pointing a finger in Arkin's direction to show the magical beast their prey. They complied. With astonishing speed they flew past Lillith, evading the trees left and right, and sped towards Arkin who had all hands full keeping his distance. His day became even worse when they opened their mouths and released electricity rays on him. One by one the rays went right through his illusions until all of them were destroyed. Arkin knew killing the arrowhawks would be futile and against his nature. Lillith was commanding them and so he had to make sure to prevent her from doing so. He made a sharp turn and flew backward into her direction where he had seen her the last time. She still stood on the same spot and without wasting precious time he released a lightning bolt upon her, making sure the evil shadow gets his share aswell. The lightning hit Lillith directly in the torso and went right through her, spoiling her concentration. The Shadowbeast however just reshaped to a circle with an open hole in the center where the lightning went through. The avatar of nature continued nevertheless to call out for more allies. Arkin had dealt great damage to Lillith but it came at a price: the three arrowhawks who never ceased to persue him released another barrage of lightning on him - this time without his mirror images. The electricity coursed through his small body, making him rattle and tremble all over before they flew on on their path. Though Arkin's protection were many it was only a matter of time before he would collapse from these impacts. He decided to put some distance between himself and the slower arrowhawks to get some time, and indeed, the beast weren't able to close in. Lillith brought up a protection against lightning then continued to call out for more allies... Arkin decided to end this fight quickly. He drew a slender stick from his belt, juggled it once around his left hand until he had the right end pointing at Lillith and released a green bolt which hit and afftected her, though not as well as the lightning bolt ...or the arrowhawk's lightning bolts... and a fourth ray crashed into a tree right next to Arkin, anouncing a new arrowhawk. And the Avatar continued to call. It was only to Arkin's ability to keep his focus that he didn't drop out at once. Badly injured from the many lightnings, he decided to erase that day from his calender when his magically enhaced speed vanished and he was no faster than the arrowhawks anymore. He still managed to keep the distance and shot another green bolt at Lillith that hit her directly on the head, and joined the first one but couldn't spoil her focus. And the arrowhawks - now five of them - released their blinding rays of raw electricity power. And Lillith summoned on... Arkin was no fool and he knew the source of his dilema so he wove a protection around himself that warded him from the lightning attacks, just in time. One ray after another hit Arkin from all sides but everytime mere inches before they would have finished him a blue shield flared into existance and blocked the streak. Lillith pulled some berries from the vines that were her hair and ate them... Lillith was wounded, and Arkin knew that. "Loeschwassereinspeisung!!" he invoked and another globe flew towards Lillith, and while she healed herself, the arrowhawks attacked. The Avatar of Nature - despite being green - didn't like the acid that burned away her moss-skin, and the Shadowbeast sensed that its Host is failing, so it whispered dark suggestions into Lillith's mind, poisoning every reasonable thought and prompting her to crush the small halfling between her fangs. And she gave in. The two of them flew with astonishing speed into Arkin's direction who fired bolt after bolt at her. Finally she closed in on Arkin who was under heavy fire from all sides by the arrowhawks. In less than 20 seconds the Shadowbeast and its Host were upon Arkin, aswell as the lightning-throwing birds. He was trapped. There was no way to go without being catched by one of the viscious beings infront of him, and with his back to a cliffwall. But Arkin had still an ace up his sleeve, in the very meaning of the word. He let all of them drew near him while he pulled out a scroll with only a single word written on it. Closer and closer they came, the hawks beginning to throw lightning again (which was completely blocked by his blue shield) and just as the Shadowbeast was about to swallow the halfling whole, he vanished between the closing mouth-like opening, only to reappear on a distant spot, somewhere between the trees. "Go, my allies. Get him and bring him to me, or convince him of his wrong ways" a sugar-sweet voice told the arrowhawks. "NO. AVATAR OF NATURE. WE HAVE ANSWERED YOUR CALL BUT WE HAVE DONE OUR SERVICE. FURTHERMORE I SENSE NO EVIL IN THE HALFLING SO I HAVE NO REASON TO HATE HIM. FAREWELL, AVATAR OF NATURE." and with these (bad) news the arrowhawks began to fly away, one by one. Lillith was just about to reply to that but she was reminded of a more imminent threat when another green globe hit her directly in the chest, burning a deep hole in her moss-like skin. She cried out in pain, tears ran down her cheeks, and she tried to fight back the pain. Slowly she descended to the ground and dropped to her knees. As Arkin caught no glimpse of the Shadowbeast, he flew towards the fallen form on the ground "Why do you fight me, little Arkin. We just want to save the forest from the Evil within. Therefore we have to cleanse it." - "No! This is mad! You will kill every inhabitant in the forest to get rid of the undead!? Why not fight them?" - "We will die." - Then we haven't lost anything! But if we win... The Celestial Forces will come to your aid, and fight by your side! End this madness now, Lillith, avatar of nature, and we might both find a better way." The words seemed to have an effect on her, ...and she slowly nodded. After a short discussion between the two, Arkin said goodbye to Lillith and took to the sky again, bound for Gladius. Lillith stood there for some time and watched him leave, even winked after him. Epilogue: One week later. Arkin sat in a comfortable chair in the magnificent library of the Celestial forces Headquarter Castle, and browsed the index of the libraries books. "May I help you, Master Arkin?" Sidaii Aurian, the old aasimar librarian asked "No thanks, I'm fine. Go home to your family, dear Sidaii. It's late." "As you wish, Master Arkin" and with a deep bow he left the room. "Ah. Late nights are my favorite time to sit in the library. No one here who... wait a moment. What is this? A copy of 'Ancient Evils'? I didn't know that we have a second exemplar. Let's see..." Excerpt from the tome 'Ancient Evils': "... From this most unfortunate soul they stole magical protections which they could duplicate on their own body at the cost of a part of the victims soul. Fortunately, Shadowbeasts were banned from this world 10000 years ago by the 1st Choir of the Celestial Forces led by Archangel Gabriel. However, since Shadowbeasts - once linked with the Host's soul - cannot be removed without killing the Host, the Choir had to slay those who were already possessed and corrupted by a Shadowbeast, else they would rise again, and begin their reign of terror from anew..." |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:12 AM | It was half an hour past midnight when Octavian Cesar sat in a candle-lit room in the highest floor of his tower. The moon was full this night and assisted the candles to illuminate the place but still the eery atmosphere reflected Octavian `s usually so light-hearted mood. But not this time. The last few days have been the sadest in his life. He remembered vividly the moment the messanger entered his room, bearing the news of his deceased sister and thus turning his perfect happy life into utter chaos and despair in less than a heartbeat. But he could not accept it. He must not accept it! HE WAS "OCTAVIAN CESAAAAR ...AND IF THIS WILL BE THE LAST THING I`LL DO IN MY LIFE I HEREBY SWEAR TO BRING HER BACK!!!" he announced with an ancient blood oath and immideately set out in search for answers. He found them. From then on matters only got worse. He spent all his gold and more to various dubious_informants, he had to aid a thayan_slaver in catching an elusive target, he had been beaten up several times, lost two fingers, and finally came upon a blackguard who told him of a devil that could help him - after he delivered the key to the sleeping chamber of Candy with whom the dark warrior wanted to have an easy time for a night. Here he was now, waiting for the overdue devil. Just as he thought he had been betrayed the magic circle he had formed began to glow and moments later one of the denizens of hell towered before him. He hadn`t much knowledge in demonlore but it wasn`t all to difficult to figure out that this being was one of the more powerful ones. "HERE IS THE BOOK YOU SOUGHT, AS PROMISED." Octavian`s hand went for the book but the fiery whip of the devil slashed across his handsome face, leaving a deep red scar and permanently blinding his right eye. As his senses slowly returned he could hear the evil one speak again in its dark sinister voice "FIRST THE PAYMENT!" The sorcerer swallowed hard, then drew a knife and made a quick and viscious cut across his forearm. The devil`s eyes gleamed in the candle light and even more as he tasted the lifeblood of the beautiful human. It seemed like an eternity to Octavian and his vision began to blur_but finally the devil was satisfied and released his arm, its mouth dripping with the sorcerer`s blood. Before the fiend left in a puff of brimstone for the lower planes he spoke one final warning: "IT WAS NOT EASY TO GET THE BOOK FROM THE ONE CALLED HARVESTER, AND WE SHOULD BOTH PRAY THAT HE NEVER FINDS OUT WHO WAS BEHIND THIS THEFT. BELIEVE ME HUMAN, THERE ARE FATES WORSER THAN DEATH!" but Octavian`s pain over his loss prevented him from being convinced. As Octavian gathered his senses he picked up the ancient tome. "Book of Vile Darkness" was written in infernal letters. He just wanted to touch the thing as the cover sprang open on its own! With astonishing speed the pages flipped themselves; Octavian of course couldn´t read anything at this pace but he saw moving images of tortured souls, their twisted mouths opened in silent screams of agony. The room darkened even more, many of the candles were blown out as a strong wind came up and the flickering shadows on the walls seemed to take on material_forms. Cold fear run down Octavian`s spine, the wind increased, the room went black, hollow sounds echoed from everywhere even_louder than the ear-deafening cacaphony of storm and all he could see were incorporal wraithforms passing in front of him, illuminating the area for just brief instants, enough to make his heart almost stop. The sorcerer cowered on the ground and held his ears, his mouth wide in a muted cry, his eyes closed,_first thoughts of having made a great mistake crossed his mind... And then silence. He risked a glance and was surprised that he could see (with his left eye, at least): the candles were long gone but the now open book gave a faint errie radiance. He got back to his feet, pushed his clothes smooth and prepared to look into the tome. "This should better be worth it" Octavian said to himself and he wasn`t disappointed: the book had browsed to the very page he sought, the ressurection of a lost soul. He quickly checked the material components. Most of them were easy to aquire but it was the last ingredient that brought cold sweat to his forehead: The heart of an oracle. It was a lovely summer evening in Gladius, and many citizens were on the streets, watching the shows the entertainers offered on the main squares, or just sat there savouring the warm night. However, one of the main attractions happened in crowded Cat's Alley - at that time filled with all kinds of fun-hungry (and -thirsty) people - in the most famous establishment the city had to offer: the Coliseum Tavern! The reinforced front door was not only guarded by magic wards and protections but also by halforc Ajax, a former gladiator gone doorstop, because only gladiators (including retired ones), and their friends were allowed to enter the Tavern - a necessary precaution for this place promised the most entertaining evenings in all of Gladius, and it wasn't any different tonight. "Name?" - "What? Ajax! Hell, it's me!! Why do you ask me the same question every time I enter!?" - "Dunno. What's name now?" - "PARD!! P-A-R-D. I'm one of the gladiators, and an active one at that! For months!" - "Me always check victory list to make sure me knows everyone! Never seen you." - "Uh...well, that's difficult to explain but..." *door opens* "Pard! What takes you so long? You said you just want to go to the toilette!" - "I've been to the toilette, before that I've talked to Ajax for a while but when I returned from the loo... ah forget it. Let's go in." To any normal man, the situation inside the Tavern would be nothing more than complete chaos! Crowded to the roof, people danced, sang, toasted, fought, slept, or read, just to name the ordinary ones. Two halflings hang in the chandelier though it wasn't clear wether the two got up there voluntarily or not. Handsome barmaids served the guests, shooting once in a while a jealous look at Candessa who played some of her tunes though the music wasn't what fascinated the cheering crowd. Pard's friend guided him to his table and motioned him to sit down and offering him some beverages while he told the latest halfling tale. Not surprisingly, a lot of competitions were going on in a tavern made for gladiators, and not only physical in nature (though the tug of war was one of the favorites). There was Rose for example, slendering in her tight green leggins through the tavern room, attracting more than one gaze from the males, taking a keg of beer which she drank in one gulp without stopping, slapping the hand that came to close to her, and still without slowing down by lifting her leg over the back of the chair she sat down at a table, opposite to Cyric Tor, the master gambler! "What's up Tor? Ready for a game or are your trembling hands unable to hold the dice?" - "Bold words from someone who will soon lose a lot of money." - "Perhaps, but this money I will lose in the following days will be yours." - "Haha! Let's play then." Cyric began shuffeling the cards, moving one to her, one to him, one to her, one up his sleeve,... and no 5 minutes later Rose's leggins lay on the ante table. And while Slevwey Peeorley ordered "Bbbbllling me anothelll watelll", Pard met an even worser fate than Rose when 250 pound of halfgiant accidently sat down on the chair he just occupied, without noticing it - even though Pard tried to get some attention from the lady by sticking some needles into her lower back. Such was the atmosphere in the Coliseum Tavern. However, not everyone was here to have fun; some had important buisness to do, important things to discuss - and there was no better place to hide a conversation better left hidden than in the noisy and scrying-proof Tavern. Behind a black curtain sat another halfling but one no one would dare to make a prank about, or even adress him in an unrespectful manner. Though no celestial blood run through his veins, there was something supernatural about him, something ...divine. He was the Mystic of the most powerful organization in Gladius, a diviner with an insight few could hope to comprehend. On the other side of the table sat a mysterious being cloaked in rich robes, and the spare light in this cabine couldn't turn away the dominant shadows that cloaked the man's face. Though this one hadn't celestial blood either, it was clear that he was not from this world. "...and after the Tree of Life had been destroyed, the prison that contained them for so long has been unlocked. Zedarak was not the only one who escaped, though surely the one that will trouble you the most" the voice whispered. Arkin waited for a few second but when the being didn't go on, he pressed the issue himself "What else can you tell me about the Shadowbeasts? How many are there? What are their weak spots?". To understand Arkin, one must know that the being sitting across the table was only known as Klare Nacht, which is best translated from (celestial into common) as "Clear Night". It wasn't one of the most renown beings among the mortals. Though he seemed to have no face for where it should be only an endless blackness with randomly glimmering stars greeted the viewer, and even in the brightest daylight has no power to turn the shadows away. It is rumored that with every star that flared up or vanished within the hood of his robe, a new sun was born - or dying - and that those who would see his face, would know everything ...and become irreversably insane in the same second. No one knew the origin of Klare Nacht, what exactly he was, or why he knew about all things, but many where wise to seek his counsil. Even then, most answers given by Klare Nacht were mysterious and rarely satisfying; that and the high price he always requests limits the number of customers somewhat. Still, he seemed in an especially generous mood today for the information that Arkin got where more than he had dared to hope. "Many questions, and so many answers. What does Arkin Jozil offer in return?" - "I've already payed a high price..." - "...and I have answered." ....... "Well, ...*sigh* What do you want?" - "I want to have 10 years of your life." - "W..what? Are you serious?" but Klare Nacht remained motionless, stars flickering up and down in the endless blackness, which was answer enough *sigh*"I have no choice. Tell me! How have they been defeated in the ancient times?" - "A wise choice. Shadowbeasts were a common nuisance for the young world. They delighted in taking over the body of mortals, to plot intrigues and bring chaos to humankind. They were hard to detect and even harder to destroy, and the fight the forces of good fought was a long and taxing one, taking years and great ressources just to locate a Shadowbeast. Even then, as soon as one of them had been banished, it returned to another host soon thereafter, and the whole search began from anew. It was one of the highest Seraphim of the 1st Choir, Archangel Gabriel, who found the weak spot of a Shadowbeast..." Grey. A blurred grey with some lines; the lines becoming clearer. A room - a spinning one. Walls passing by, fast, fast, slower, and slower. A room, with some alchemicals and tomes. A library? A wizard's laboratory. Yes. And there's a man. The scene became clearer now. "I HEREBY SUMMON THY, IMMORTAL SOUL PLEASE COME BY." said the slender man with raised arms who stood infront of a pentagram inlaid in the floor. No second later a cloud of brimstone came into existance. At first, only red powerful arms could be seen through the yellow fog, but as the vapors vanished the devil's form became clearer. "AH, THE SORCERER AGAIN. ALWAYS A PLEASURE." - "I need your help..." - "...AGAIN?" - "Correct. I want you to help me in my quest! I want that..." - "YOU WANT? DIDN'T YOU FORGET A LITTLE THING?" - "No. This time, there will be no payment for this is not a bid nor a trade but a command! If you pay attention to the floor you might notice that you are trapped within a summoning circle, and will stay there for a long time unless you grant my request!" - "HO HO HO HO! YOU ARE ONE OF THE MOST ENTERTAINING MORTALS I MET IN A WHILE" the devil said "AND ONE OF THE MOST FOOLISH ONES AT THAT!!" as he stepped out of the summoning circle and grabbed the human by the neck, lifting him high into the air "IF YOU WOULD HAVE PAYED A LITTLE MORE ATTENTION TO YOUR SUMMONING CLASSES YOU MIGHT HAVE KNOWN IT IS A DIFFICULT ATTEMPT TO TRAP MY SOUL - FOR I HAVE NO SOUL TO TRAP!" - *gurgle* - "WHAT NOW PUNY HUMAN? I CAN CRUSH YOUR SKULL RIGHT HERE AND NOW BUT I WILL TAKE YOU WITH ME AND GIVE YOU AN ETERNITY OF SUFFERING!" and with these words he threw the feeble man across the room where he was slowed down by an bookshelf and stopped by the wall behind it. Buried under some dozen books, the man tried to free himself of the weight, his blood trickling on the vellum pages of the tomes while he was trying to gasp for breath. The pitfiend though was far from finished with his lesson: his fiery whip paced forward and winded itself around the sorcerers leg, charring his flesh with every second - and worser yet - draging him along the ground and closer to the massive devil. "Wait!! Wait!! *gasp* *burning pain* AARGH... I can pay you...for finding the oracle's heart..." - "NO MORE WORDS SLAVE! I WILL RIP YOUR TONGUE OUT FOR OUR CONVERSATION...HM, WHAT DID YOU SAY? ORACLE'S HEART?" - *gasp gasp gasp* "I...*gasp*...need the heart of an oracle for the ritual *gasp*" - "HM, INTERESTING. GO ON PLEASE" - "I know one. He's working for the Celestial Forces though, and above that he's very powerful - too powerful for me." While the human spoke, the pitfiend lifted him back on his feet, and brushed some of the dust from the sorcerer's vest which was most disturbing to the man. After the devil thought about that for a moment, an evil grin formed on his scaly face, and in a mocking tone he asked "WELL HUMAN. HOW MAY I SERVE YOU?" Slowly the few colors returned, the room stopped to spin, and Arkin was back in the small cabine of the Coliseum Tavern. "Ah, any new insights?" Arkin waited for a second to regain his full focus then answered "I have to go." and stood up, grabbed the black velvet curtain "But I will come back, and then I will hear some answers!" and walked out of the cabine, and back into the chaos. Pard was just about to suffocate as two man tried to pull him out from under the halfgiantess. One might think the easiest way would be to make the halfgiantess stand up but that was a complicated matter with her being buried under a large warhorse that listened to the name of Bill - well, it didn't do so at the moment for neither sugar nor the other three man could convince her to trade this in for the warm place it had found. And if one was asking himself why only five people tried to help poor Pard, he should know that Rose had continued to play against Cyric ...and lost. No one noticed Arkin coming out of the empty cabin. The Mystic left Cat's Alley behind, and headed towards Arcadivus, the magical community district where he tried to find some answers from a good old friend and distant relative, Johan Talyana, an expert on the field of extraplanar issues. Time was running out, and Arkin knew a shortcut which might save him a few minutes time and so he took a less traveled alley of the disctrict. *FLAPFLAPFLAPFLAP* Arkin began to jog out of the alley, and into the next; in his mind he saw a - transluctent - clawed foot stepping on a slate on one of the roofs, he ran on. This alley was shorter than the last one and ended in a T-junction. Arkin chose left (for his mind saw the right one ending at a wall) and as soon as he rounded the corner, he willed himself to become invisible with no more than a wave of his hand, and on he ran - this time at top speed and spurned by the flapping sounds that now reached his ears and not only his mind. But Arkin was a halfling, and halflings weren't known for their incredible paces. However, they excelled in something else, and so it came naturally to Arkin that he hid behind some empty crates, and waited. And he didn't have to wait long. What the eye couldn't see, Arkin's mind made up for and so he sensed the evil presence some hundred feet ahead at roof level, the sound of great batwings reached his sensible little ears. It was time to strike! Now or never! He stepped out of the cover, raised his hands to the heavens and with a firm voice he invoked a prayer which had surely reached Mount Celestia "IOUN...TENDRAHT!...BLAASSSS!!" A white light formed around Arkin and grew in intensity each splitsecond that passed, brighter and brighter it grew, then compressed itself into a small ball almost resembling a tiny sun and with a final word he aimed the globe at the spot where he suspected... where he knew the evil presence hovered. And it hit! The white ball impacted with something in mid-air, outlining large bat wings and a humanoid shape, 12 ft tall at least. The flash lasted only an instant, and Arkin was just about to relax somewhat when the flashlight reversed, and collapsed back into the form of a brilliant globe which hovered in midair for a second, then sped down in his direction ...and impacted on him. It was only due to a present he once got from his friend Ebelin that he wasn't struck dead in that moment, when a ring on his finger flared up once and sucked the light into it - the small diamond gemstone on the ring turning to dust. Arkin had no idea what went wrong in this moment so he tried again to release the fury of the Seven Heavens on this being of darkness. This time he cried to the top of his lungs, praying for divine guidance and power to strike true, and the globe he summoned was even brighter than the last one. As he released the ball on the formerly empty spot in midair it hit the creature, and this time it had an effect as the veil that covered the fiend from the eyes was removed. However, the globe was again reflected by the creature who just held out a clawed hand which made the exploding globe collapse again, and sped into Arkin's direction. The Mystic was quick which was the reason he survived this as he brought up a shield of protective energy that shattered the moment the tiny sun hit it but also saved his life. On the bad side, it destroyed every magical protection Arkin had weaved upon himself, leaving him vulnerable and small. At least he could see the fiend now. It was a towering fiend with powerful corded muscles, giant batlike wings sprouted from his back, and red gleeming eyes looked down on the alley where the lonely halfling stood. NOWHERE TO RUN, NOWHERE TO HIDE! I SUGGEST YOU GIVE UP HALFLING! - "Never! I will not yield to a fiend! Wait a moment... I know you!" Shock and awe, disbelief and denial were the emotions that washed over Arkin when he recognized who the 'fiend' was. His torso, his wings, his voice might have changed but at a closer look he recognized the face as the one of the sorcerer he had previously seen in his vision back in the Tavern, though this time it had hardly the handsome look it used to have where all the scales and horns formed on his head. "You...you are this sorcerer who summoned the devil! Yes! I recognize you now!!" - "HMMMM, I'M IMPRESSED ARKIN JOZIL. SO IT IS TRUE THAT YOU ARE AN ORACLE!" - "My little abilities in fortunetelling can hardly be compared to those of an oracle!" - "WHY SO MODEST? YOU HAVE THE POWER TO SEE THINGS THAT WERE, THINGS THAT ARE, AND THINGS THAT HAVEN'T HAPPENED YET. AND YOUR ABILITIES ARE CONSTANTLY IMPROVING. YES, YOU WILL BECOME AN ORACLE SOONER OR LATER." and with a voice deeper and colder than the grave he added ...AND YOU KNOW WHAT I NEED AN ORACLE FOR... Arkin exploded into motion and with a fast and fervent prayer he summoned another tiny brilliant globe, hoping that it will carry more fruits than the last two but before the globe impacts, the fiend held again his hand infront of him and protecting him against the divine power of the Heavens, and as both times before that, the globe was deflected back on Arkin - this time he hadn't any resistance to offer. The Globe impacted on Arkin's frail and unprotected body, and exploded into the brightness of a thousand suns, spoiling his ability to raise more protections, the light hadn't vanished yet when the sorcerer summoned a burning ball of fire into each of his claws and threw them at the halfling - one - two - and catapulted him a hundred feet through the air and back, where he crashed into a wall, dropped the remaining 20ft to the floor, and lay still. His body charred, bent, burned, and broken. Clinging to consciousness and life alike, he couldn't stand up or move anything except his head which he could just turn to see the sorcerer slowly approaching, his batlike wings creating an updraft that scattered crates and barrels into all directions. "AH, THAT WAS EASY! YOU KNOW, YESTERDAY I FEARED YOU AND YOUR MYSTICAL POWER. I KNEW I WAS NO MATCH FOR YOU BUT NOW...IT IS A DIFFERENT MATTER. WELL ARKIN JOZIL, KNOW THAT IT IS NOT A PERSONAL MATTER BUT I NEED YOUR..." - "IXENTHOR!! THANK GOD YOU ARE HERE!!" - "W..W..WHAT? WHERE???" and the moment the fiend turned around to look behind him, he knew he had just made a big mistake. He didn't need to turn around again for he saw the brilliant white globe already closing in on his back, and even with his enhanced devilish reflexes, he couldn't stop the impending doom... Half an hour later... The magnificent headquarter of the Celestial Forces! Located on the highest point in Arkhein, the castle-like complex dominated - and watched - over Gladius. White banners and flags, showing symbols of celestials and gods of the upper planes danced in the wind and anounced newcomers what kind of beings lived behind these smooth white marble walls. This was the place where Arkin Jozil was at home. And home he brought the sorcerer. "Master Arkin, Master Arkin, do you think it is a good idea to bring such a ...vile being into our marvelous home?" Sidaii Aurian asked while pointing at the unconscious form laying on a floating tenser-disc "I know what I do, Sidaii" - "Of course you do, Master Arkin. I didn't mean to be disrespectful. It is just that this is ...a fiend!" - "No, he isn't. It is a human being like the ones that live in the city around us. He was tempted by a devil, perhaps even possessed, but I will not give up on him!" - "Of course, Master Arkin. I beg your pardon". Flicker - the lantern archon that floated infront of them - wasn't so easily convinced. "I seriously recommend consulting one of the Seraphim! Asides from bringing a devil into these holy halls this is a most dangerous..." - "STOP IT! I will save this man, and if it is the last thing I am doing. Agreed? ....AGREED?" - "Hrmpf. But I will accompany you." Arkin brought the sorcerer into a special room on one of the lower levels of the Castle. It wasn't a big chamber; its walls were decorated with all kinds of wards and mysterious signs few would comprehend. In the center was a stone table-like construction with a sun etched into its surface, along with several gemstones that reflected the spare illumination that radiated from the magical torches on the wall that came to life when Sidaii pressed a stone. Arkin commanded the Tenserdisc to tip over to the side and let the body slip onto the table. He rolled up his sleeves, wished the sweat from his brow, and began with a very complicated ritual... "Ishnu-alah, Ash'Raso-Raman Perrassassar-Eldalamberon, Valinor-Eldarien" he sang while his arms waved mysterious patterns into the air, drawing lines of light behind his fingers and visualizing the signs for the other two beings in the room. His singsang increased in pace and volume as the minutes passed by, his voice firm and strong despite the obvious taxing task "Andamabunda Bantalloboraeie Tor'illisar theranal..." A movement! The devils eyes began to twitch, then flicker, his lip began to tremble, and with a "RRROOOAAARRRR!!" he came to consciousness again! His eyes wide open, saliva-dripping, he pressed himself against an invisible barrier that held him down on the ground while Arkin continued to sing and praise even louder "I Arkin Jozil command you to release this soul and flee back to the planes where you come from..." - "RRROOOAAARRRR...NOO!!! RELEASE ME!!" - "Paraka taware telko-wenda! Release this soul evil spirit!" - "I...WILL...BREAK... YOUR NECK!!" Wind came up in the room, strong wind that even forced Sidaii to seek hold somewhere, his grey hair dancing in all directions while the lantern archon bumped up and down in midair, its glow brightening to reflect his increased alertness - and nervousness. Arkin's ritual seemed to affect the devilish man as he tried to free himself from unseen shackles, crying out in pain all the while. White spiritlike vapors coursed through the sorcerers body, came out of his chest, flying high into the air only to turn around and desscending back into the fiend with lightning fast speed. And Arkin sang on! Perhaps it was the lack planar knowledge, perhaps it was its nervousness but just as the fiend twisted and bend his body in an unnatural angle, Flicker - mistakenly thinking the devil breaks free - released a beam of light on the fiend, penetrating the protective barrier that kept it trapped. A redscaled claw reached forward, and grabbed Arkin by the throat, stopping his chant immideately! "GRRRR WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" the devil growled through gritted fangs "*gurgle*" - "NAH. THAT IS NOT MUCH OF AN ANSWER! SO NO FINAL WORDS FOR YOU.", and with this goodbye he raised his claw, and aimed for the chest... BZZZZZZ....BZZZZZZ Two lightrays impacted in his back, stinging him and weakening his grip around Arkin's neck who didn't need a second invitation. With a slight twist he was able to wiggle himself free of the claw, and dropped 10ft to the floor, almost breaking a leg in the process. Bruised he tried to crawl away from the towering creature, and succeeded in doing so. Although he escaped with his life for the moment, someone else had to pay the bill in his stead: Arkin heard the fiend inhaling air and could just look around the cover to witness the downfall of his never-again-glowing ally. At least, Sidaii was fortunately no where in sight. "YOU ARE NEXT!" the devil anounced and began to sniff for mortalflesh. Arkin knew the thing would locate him in no time so he drew a small circle in the air and pointed into a certain direction where an illusory double appeared. "RRRAARR" the devil leaped on the image and was all the more anoyed when he realized that this was just an illusion. Arkin however used the time wisely. He grabbed his holy symbol with one hand, balling his other to a fist, and stepped out of his hiding place. "Wenede-bruun tuile tawre! Labama lindaii ornei ingoldo!" Wind came up again and made Arkin's robes flap up and down - the reason for the torchlights being magical becoming clearer now - even the devil was disturbed by the sudden change and Arkin approached him step by step without stopping his chant "I COMMAND YOU TO RELEASE THIS SOUL AND RETURN TO THE HELL YOU CAME FROM!!" he screamed over the noise of the winds, and not without effect! The spiritlike vapors returned and flew through the fiends torso only to come out of the other side causing great pain to the devil! Arkin approached even more, chanting holy rituals and reciting divine verses of the Choirs which - despite the lack of any visual effect - stung the denizen of the lower planes more than the vapors that tormented his body. Step by step, the devil backed away from the symbol, the vapors, the chant that assaulted his mind - even holding his claws to his ears didn't help! Like a cornered animal - and the comparison wasn't so off - he tried to end this torture by removing the source of it but he couldn't extend his claws to reach the halfling as they were deflected by a holy radiance that emanated now from Arkin! The fiend took another step back, and another one, and another one until he was stopped by the stone table behind him. Just as he thought it would be better not to cross it, Arkin made a step forward and with raised hands and a chant to the top of his lungs "ERUKHINA KALA-KENDI KEMPTANO CELANN! LINDAI ENDEI SWANDA'R'ATAR ENDE!" which was only topped by the cries of pain from the fiend that now kneeled on the stone table, teh vapors forcing him to duck his head, forcing him down on the ritualtable and putting him where Arkin wanted him to be. A last feeble attempt to shred the halfling was met with little success and when Arkin pressed the holy symbol on the fiends forehead the same time the vapors pierced his body once again, the cries became a cacophony of pain no mortal could issue forth. And then there was silence. The wind ceased at once, and on the stone table lay the broken and twisted form of a handsome human, the one Arkin had seen in his vision. Through ragged breaths, he led his head sink onto the table, mourning for all the losses the world suffered today. He wasn't roused before the door flew open and Skymoon, Dusk, and Burnus Desentaar - a hound archon paladin - stormed the room. "Arkin, is everything ok, my friend?" the elven commander asked but Arkin's answer was only a nod ...in Flicker's direction. "I've tried to save the man" Arkin said later, when he stood before magnificent Harmoneous Jade "and in doing so, I caused the death of two. I am not worthy for an organization such as this." After a long pause, the planetar replied in the most melodious voice he ever heard "IS THIS TRULY YOUR WISH?" - "I...I acted carel..." - "OR IS IT JUST AN ESCAPE TO DROWN YOUR SORROW? HOW MANY PEOPLE MAY LIVE ON TO SEE THE LIGHT BECAUSE OF ARKIN JOZIL? AND HOW MANY WILL LIVE ON BECAUSE OF THE DEEDS ARKIN JOZIL WILL ACCOMPLISH IN THE FUTURE? DO YOU WANT TO TELL THEM THAT THEY HAVE TO DIE BECAUSE YOU ACTED CARELESS?" Arkin didn't know how to reply, part of it coming from the fact that he talked to such an awesome being, and partly because he didn't expect those words "FLICKER KNEW THE RISKS AND WOULD CHOOSE TO DO THE SAME IF GIVEN THE CHOICE. AND YOU DIDN'T KILL THE SORCERER. IN FACT, YOU SAVED ONE MAN TODAY." Harmoneous Jade walked to the door where she stopped and turned around once again to add "BELIEVE ME, ARKIN, WHEN I SAY...THERE ARE WORSER FATES THAN DEATH" and with a wink of her eye she left the room. Epilogue: "Hey Arkin!! Cool that you're back here! Heard the latest news? Pard survived the seat of the giant gal! HE HE Funny, eh?" - "Yes, perhaps." - "Palllld was bbbbblllluer than I am *BLBLBLBL*" - "Look McMillan, I have little time right now; perhaps we can talk another time, ok? Great. Slevwy. *nods*" - "Anytime, Arkin! HEY ANOTHER KEG FOR ME!!" *pushes himself through the crowd in the Tavern* *walks into the empty cabin* *turning around to close black velvet curtain* "Ah, the oracle has returned!" - "I am no oracle." *sits down* ...yet. But what do I know, eh? - "Why not change the topic, Klare Nacht. You owe me something!" - "Then listen to what I have to tell for there are few who know about this. The Shadowbeast were a nuisance to everyone. They were even able to reproduce themselves, better described as spawning. As the threat increased - and a single Shadowbeast was a significant increase - the Celestial Forces had no choice but to take a radical step, else the young world would have been doomed before it had a chance to prosper. Archangel Gabriel was the one who led the assault on the Shadowbeasts, slew them one by one - promting the Choirs to sweep over the land like a plague! One by one fell, and with every Shadowbeast, an innocent human had to die..." - "...by the hands of an angel. I've read about it in an old tome called 'Ancient Evils'." - "It was the downfall of Gabriel." - "But there's one thing I do not understand. We encountered Shadowbeasts, and even slew one Host. However, it rose again after some time." - "Yes, it is not done with killing the host though it is part of it. As one of his last acts before he vanished, Gabriel banished the Shadowbeasts into the Tree of Life, using an ancient ritual, and trapping them within the roots of the Tree." - "I know who has the sappling for a new Tree of Life. All I need is the ritual! Tell me about Gabriel's ritual!!" Klare Nacht was silent for a moment, then replied "Na na na, Arkin, that is something you better ask him yourself. Muahahahahahahaaaa..." ...to be continued. |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:18 AM | Before the beginning of time, the multiverse consisted of pure sentient energy which harmonized and coexisted with each other. It is said, that one of such formed the World and it was called the Force of Life, and a positive force it was for harmony and joy it blew into its many creations which appeared in every shape possible, and eventually it manifested itself into the one called Tree of Life - guarding forever over the beings it created and through whiches veins the Force of Life coursed. However, there cannot be life where there is no place to thrive and thus the World itself had been the second Force, the Body of Creation, and in her center lies the Worldstone, and where the Tree of Life is the Soul of the World, the Worldstone is surely the Heart, and none can live without the other for long but the destruction of both would be the instant Doom of Creation. - Excerpt from the Book of Dawn Chapter 1 It was the eeriest location he had ever been. An abandoned temple of ages past, perhaps reaching back millenia but he couldn't say this for sure. Corinthus Avius stood before the steps that led down to the second sublevel of the complex, hesitating for several minutes now. Only darkness greeted him from below, and this was still one of the most comfortable things here compared to the strange sounds coming from downstairs, gruesome distorted monsters he had managed to evade so far by taking on the shape of a bat, and now this: an aura of unspeakable evil held him in his tracks, almost paralyzed him, every cell of his body yelling 'Turn around!' at him. But he couldn't. Too much has happened so far. The Druid Enclave has been fighting against the Ancient Evils that were released from the Tree of Life, but what chance did they have against such odds, and in the end every single druid has been possessed by a Shadowbeast - vile overpowered creatures consisting almost of nothing else but darkness and evil, that accompany their Host with whom they are undividably connected until the end of the host's days. Corinthus was one of the last - perhaps the last - free druid; the burden weighted heavy on him but he was the last chance for the Enclave, and so he took matters into his own hands and followed the tracks of the most powerful of the Ancient Evils: Zedarak! He was glad and almost fell to his knees when he met Archangel Ixenthor on his way, the divine radiance that emanated from this pure being temporarily washing away all his doubts and fears. However, Ixenthor wanted to convince him to turn around, and that the fight had to be fought somewhere else. No! He mustn't accept that! Not with so much at stake, and when Ixenthor tried to stop him he - may the gods forgive him - summoned a hurikane to block the Archangel's way to him. No! Not after all that has happened. Like a man standing on the crenelations of a tower the halfling took a step forward. The huge stairs led to a vast chamber illuminated by thousands of candles, a cacophony of dark chants assaulted his ears, and the aura of evil nauseated him, putting him in jeopardy to pass out any second. Determination kept him conscious. As his senses slowly returned he could see the source of the chant: demons! Or something similar sinister but first he had to blew a sigh of relief that they hadn't detected him already for his small stature standing behind a grotesque statue blocked their line of sight. After he made sure it stayed that way Corinthus risked a glance at the fiends. Asides from some minor demons or devils, there were three interesting beings. The first one was completely unknown to him, resembling more a corporal shadow than anything else, his eyes burning as if on fire it was this one who led the dark chant while standing infront of a burning cauldron that was dwarfed by a big portal next to it. The second and tallest of the trio was Zedarak! The Evil One! A shudder ran down his spine just by looking at the powerful scalecovered monster than could rip an elephant apart or even grapple a roc. But as impressive as Zedarak might be, the third one - barely higher than a foot - caught his interest: Bilo Darkleaf! "...WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU I FELT THE URGE TO CRUSH YOU IN MY HANDS BUT NOW I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I FIND YOU MORE AMUSING ...AND PERHAPS EVEN HELPFUL." - "I am glad you see it that way and I assure you the Comittee will be very useful to your cause." - "WE SHALL SEE. YOU DID A GOOD JOB IN DESTROYING THE TREE OF LIFE AND IF THEY LIVE UP TO MY EXPECTATIONS..." - "They will! They will!" - "...I WILL REWARD YOU" *picks up a rock* "BUT IF THEY FAIL..." *CRASHES ROCK IN HIS PALM* *Gulp* - "I AM GLAD WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER. NOW LISTEN WELL TINYLING! THESE PUNY DRUIDS TRIED TO STOP ME FROM ESCAPING THIS DESPISABLE FOREST AND THOUGH THEY COULD NOT STOP ME THEY DELAYED ME SOMEWHAT, GIVING MY ENEMIES TIME TO STOP ME BEFORE I COULD ACTIVATE THIS PORTAL THAT LEADS OUT OF THE HIGH FOREST AND CLOSER TO MY DESTINATION. HOWEVER, I AM SURPRISED THAT NONE OF THE ARCHANGELS SHOWED UP TO PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING." - "Perhaps they've finally realized your superiority!" - "OHOHO NO HALFLING! DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THE FORCES OF GOOD. IT WAS WELL WITHIN THEIR POWER TO DESTROY THIS PORTAL BEFORE IT COULD BE ACTIVATED AND THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN A SETBACK I DID NOT WANT TO FACE." *stomps around the cauldron* - "ZEDARAK THE PORTAL IS READY WITHIN THE MINUTE" (the Shadowcreature said) *gruesome smile from Zedarak* "AN IMPORTANT QUEST LIES BEFORE ME HALFLING, AND I CANNOT TAKE CARE OF SUCH ENTERTAINING THINGS LIKE VENGEANCE. HOWEVER, THEY POSSESS A SAPLING FOR A NEW TREE OF LIFE WHICH MUST NOT BE PLANTED! I WANT YOU TO SEND YOUR COMITEE TO THE DRUID'S GROOVE AND MEET ITS GUARDIANS AND FIND THE SAPLING. CAN YOU DO THIS FOR ME? ...PLEASE!" *Bilo almost thrown prone* "Hihihihi Yes Lord Zedarak hihihi That'll be most entertaining indeed Hihihi I will..." - "NOOOOO!!!!!" Corinthus leaped up and out of his hiding place - his face a grimace of anger and hate! Corinthus threw his arms up to summon the wrath of nature upon these vile beings, a plead to the deities of the woods to stop this madness that seemed like a nightmare come true but every sylable cost him precious time as the demons pounced upon him. The first three met a quick end when a pillar of flame hit them squarely on the head, leaving nothing behind when the fires diminished, and the second wave didn't fare any better when various animals appeared out of nowhere to not only block their path but also tear them to demonshreds. He reached into his pocket and retracted some unnaturally red acorns, and those that thought the berries no thread got a bad surprise when they exploded into an inferno only rivaled by their fiery homeplane! In less than 20 heartbeats almost ten demons met their end. But his surprise attack was exhausted now. Bilo was the first to react, jumped on a 'huge' 2 feet tall rock and released two fireballs in rapid succession, incinerating most of the summoned animals, and all remaining demons. One brown bear even managed to survive the blast but he regretted his luck instantly when Zedarak leaped forward and crushed his skull with one clawed hand as if it was nothing more than glass. The updraft caused by his massive wings sent Corinthus to the floor and before his back reached the ground, a lightning bolt seared through his left arm, rendering it useless. Hardpressed with the choice on wether to use his right arm to stand up or cast a spell, Corinthus chose the latter one and - realizing that he had to prevent the portal from opening - he summoned a swarm of insects right on the Shadowlord who hadn't stopped his dark chant infront of the cauldron. The insects, spiders, centipedes, locusts, and other nasty vermin surrounded the black form of the outsider ...and died the moment they approached him. The Shadowlord hasn't even turned around but summoned on and just now succeeded in opening the portal! "What...?" - "Let me burn him!! Let me burn him!! BURN!! HIHIHIHIHI" - "NO! I WANT HIM ALIVE! BRING HIM TO ME!" - "With pleasure!! Hihihi ASUNAT ERENDEKIL, AS RASO-RAMAN!!" A giant-size hand appeared out of thin air, grabbed Corinthus in its unrelenting grasp, and flew him forward. Everytime the druid wanted to cast a spell, the hand increased its pressure and stole breath and spell alike. Corinthus was helpless. "SHADOWLORD! HERE IS ANOTHER ...HOST MUAHAHAHARRRR" - "With pleasure, Lord Zedarak!" And what now followed convinced Corinthus that death wasn't the worst option. The shadowthing extracted his tendrils which bore into Corinthus skull. Never had the halfling felt such pain! And it was far from over. The tendrils stayed there for what seemed an eternity. Every living creature would've long passed out from the agony but somehow the tendrils kept him also awake, awake to relive every single ounce of pain. After some time, the Shadowlord opened his mouth, or a mouthlike opening, through which came another shadow that was soon seperated from his mass. For a second the new shadow took on the form of a bat-like being, then dived down and right into the druid's body - vanishing completely! The ghostly hand dropped him to the floor. "ONE DRUID LESS TO WORRY ABOUT." - "INFACT ONE DRUID MORE THAT WILL SOON JOIN OUR RANKS. IT TAKES SOME TIME UNTIL THE SHADOWBEAST IS FULLY MERGED AND IN CONTROL OF HIS SOUL BUT THERE IS NO WAY TO SEPERATE..." Something interrupted the Shadowlord! A white light flowed down the stairs and into the chamber from the far entrance, banning the darkness and turning back the aura of evil that reigned in this hall. Filaments of light appeared around the corner and were the first indicator of who was about to arrive long before the whole magnifiance of the celestial came through the entrance-arch. "THIS IS FAR FROM OVER ZAK'TAREDAS FAR FROM OVER ZAK'TAREDAS!" and with a mighty leap the archangel crossed half of the huge chamber, brilliant-flaming sword in hand, and without even touching the ground sped further forward with a speed no mortal could hope to duplicate. But even 'half the chamber' wasn't enough... "PERHAPS ANOTHER TIME IXENTHOR. IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU AGAIN AFTER SO LONG A TIME BUT IF YOU EXCUSE ME NOW, I HAVE TO CLIMB A MOUNTAIN HARHARHARHARRRR" and with these words Zedarak stepped through the portal. Bilo and the Shadowlord weren't the dumbest ones either so they followed soon thereafter. Just as they had vanished a shadow tentacle reached back through the portal and into the cauldron - extinguishing its fires ...and closing the gate. Silence reigned again in the vast chamber. Ixenthor sheated his sword and went to the cowering halfling on the ground, lifting him up and holding him high into the air with one arm. "FOOLFOOL! YOU HAVE BROUGHT THE WORLD ON THE BRINK OF DESTRUCTIONON THE BRINK OF DESTRUCTION AND EBBED THE WAY FOR THE EVIL ONESEBBED THE WAY FOR THE EVIL ONES! THE ONE YOU CALL ZEDARAK WILL GO FOR THE WORLDSTONEWILL GO FOR THE WORLDSTONE ON MOUNT HYREAT AND FEW WILL BE ABLE TO STOP HIM NOWFEW WILL BE ABLE TO STOP HIM NOW!" - "Ix..Ixenthor, I I am sorry but the Enclave...I will help you stopping..." - "THE TREE OF LIFE MUST BE PLANTED ANEWMUST BE PLANTED ANEW BUT IT CAN ONLY BE DONE BY A DRUID PURE TO HIS IDEALSPURE TO HIS IDEALS. YOU MUST TRAVEL TO THE EVERFROST WOODS FAR TO THE NORTHTRAVEL TO THE EVERFROST WOODS FAR TO THE NORTH AND BEYOND THE BORDER OF CIVILIZATIONBORDER OF CIVILIZATION WHERE THERE ARE STILL THOSE GUARDIANS OF NATURE UNTAINTED BY SHADOWBEASTSGUARDIANS OF NATURE UNTAINTED BY SHADOWBEASTS. FIND ONE OF THESE DRUIDSONE OF THESE DRUIDS AND GIVE HIM THE SAPLING THAT WILL GROW A NEW TREE OF LIFEGROW A NEW TREE OF LIFE! HURRY FOR THE TIME IS AGAINST USIS AGAINST US!" ...and as Corinthus vanished through the entrance, the last thing he saw was Ixenthor holding his flaming sword into the cauldron, relighting it again... http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Charaktere/Ixenthor/Ixenthor-Marius1.jpg - Archangel Ixenthor and Corinthus Avius More than 100 Miles away, in another part of the High Forest... The Comittee was united as never before when three of their elite members just teleported into the midst of a gathering of the Druid's Circle, with Bruno holding a white flag of diplomacy in their hand. "We'a 'ere the offer ye'n offer, or somethin' so ye bedda sharpn yer ears as long as they're still workin'!" Bruno began. "And we're not even burning your tree down, hihi ...ups, it's already down hihihi but's was the most entertaining thing I ever did Hihihihi" Lillith was just going to leap on the tiny halfling but Drak'something held her back "Wait Lillith, Bilo is right. He cannot burn the Tree of Life down again because he already burned it down so his words are true." - "W..WHAT!?!? HAVE YOU LOST SENSE!? HE'S PROVO..." - ""Nough! Can ye stop yer bickerin' an listen to whad we'a gonna say now?" - "What our respected Bruno is going to say is that we want to offer you to remove the Shadowbeast that surely bother you to some extend." Kelek said "I assure you I am very sad that these vile beasts possessed you and all we want to do is help you." - "What do you want to have in exchange?" Jindl of the High Forest asked "Ah, nothing worth mentioning. Just a small sapling ...well, to be exact, the sapling of the Tree of Life." - "NEVER!!" - "If I had 'em damn Shadowthing in me head I would've'ccepted me offer for sure." - "We are just worried about your wellfare, my dear druids. Your life would be so much better without these Ancient Evils" - "HOW DARE YOU TO LIE TO ME IN SUCH A WAY!?" - "Lillith, what Kelek said is correct. Our life would be better without the beast and we cannot proof if he is lying. Even if he lied 1000 times before that he may now speak the truth." - "DRAK!!!" - "Can ye now shut 'em dumb druid up an gimme an answer?" - "Our answer is No!" and no later than Jindl had spoken these words a green ray struck him squarely in the chest and polymorphed him into a slug... The fight was on. All three remaining druids made the same mistake when blinking their eyes once which was more than enough time Kelek needed to hide, and Bilo to teleport out of sight, leaving Bruno standing alone in their midst. The druids reacted at once and spread out in different directions. Drak'something was the first to react - among the druids only of course - and he increased his size by wildshaping into a large Direbear, who instantly made a charge attack against the completely unconcerned Bruno ...and charged right through the illusion and against a tree. The real Bruno casted on from his unknown position and managed to open a rift in space, connecting the Druid's grove with the Nine Hells and before Lillith, Gabriel - the third druid, and Drak'something could close it, a Bone Devil stepped through, equalling the Dire Drak in size and ferosity - though the fiend had much more common sense. Lillith - the Avatar of Nature - tiptoed as lightfooted as any elf towards the devil, increasing in size with every step, her skin transforming into scales of earth and dirt, the steps becoming stomps and finally she reached the Bone Fiend with a final leap that sent both of them grappling to the ground! This bought her companions some time: Gabriel vanished in the undergrowth to seek the little troublemakers while Drak'something began to increase his magical defenses ...or that was what he would've liked to do. As soon as the spellcasting growls left his maw an area of silence fell upon him and sucked up every sylable before the magic could take effect. Drak'something did the most logical thing and began to weigh up if this was either the Comitees work or an unknown natural occurance that coincidently happened for the first time in the World's history. He lost some more spells before he found the answer in form of a whisper from the other side of the Grove. Drak galloped on all fours as fast as he could to the spot where he heard the whisper, and as he ran a black shadowy form came out of his ears and snout, took on the form of a Bat-like being and sped ahead of the Bear towards the spot where Kelek hid. They found nothing. However, the Shadowbeast wasn't so easily fooled and took on persuit, with Drak'something following his master. Kelek cursed under his breath when he saw the dangerous blackness following him and forcing him to concentrate more on hiding than engaging the Bear which eventually enabled the druid to cast some spells on himself. Some yards eastward Gabriel sneaked through the undergrowth for his keen ears - the keenest in the Grove, so it is said - heard distant spellcastings and indeed, as he rounded a big old mammothtree he saw Bruno - or at least he hoped it was the real one, involved in a ritual of some sort. Being convinced that nothing good could come from this little gnome, he raised his hands heavenward and spoke the words of fury "Hhloooth Svooooll!" he sang and a red horizontal circle formed 40 feet above Bruno who just now stopped in his summoning and gazed directly into the fiery opening directly above from where a second later a stream of fire came forth and poured down on him. The 'firefall' sent waves of heat even to Gabriel's distant position and he was just about to turn around and assist his hard-pressed friends as his keen ears picked up a rustling from where the gnome stood... Lillith was bleeding from several wounds, her left eye was swollen shut and she suffered several rip breaks, aswell as a deep gash to her legs. Bruised and battered all she could do was escaping the mighty Bone Devil before it crushed her - for this was surely within its power. She could do nothing but see how the guardians of nature suffered one setback after another. She had one last spell left and wanted to use it to summon allies to assist Drak'something against the assassin but just as she was about to cast, Kelek made a sudden appearance behind the Shadowbeast and pierced the black creature through where the eyes should be, before vanishing again - all in less than a split second. The Shadowbeast was hit! Though no one could see anything different in the living shadow the beast flew back and forth, changed its shape and size in rapid succession which clearly indicated that something wasn't to its liking - could the Comitee indeed help them to get rid of the Shadowbeasts? - but then her dreams were shattered as the injured creature vanished again into the Dire Bears openings. Miraculously, Bruno had survived the flamestrike - something Gabriel couldn't believe and he hoped the gnome standing 100 feet away from him was some leftover illusion but got disappointed. Worse yet, the third of the Comittee - Bilo - just appeared on the scene. The druid had to think fast and he decided to finish the injured gnome off before he took care of the halfling: clouds gathered on the sky with alarming speed but Gabriel knew this was exactly what he wanted to happen. He raised his arms high and sang a song of nature's praise and when his voice had reached its highest pitch he let his hands fall down - mimicking the descending lightning stroke that just tore through the canopy of leaves and right onto Bruno's position. If someone needed a proof that luck favored both good and evil, one got it now as Bruno tripped on a root and evaded most of the electric doom. Angry and fuming - more about the root though - he narrowed his bushy eyebrows which were now focused on the thin druid on the other side. "Ye wanna mess with me? I'm gonna givye'n mess ye'll ne'er forget!" Bruno was quick for his age! His motions and gestures very smooth and precise and so it took him less than the blink of an eye to follow through with his next spell and released a greenish ray at Gabriel who was completely taken by surprise at this masterpiece of spellcasting, aswell as squarely hit in the chest! A hole formed, increasing in size as it ate away the druids flesh, his belly, his legs and arms began to vanish only to be replaced by nothingness, and before he could even managed to cry out his head was disintegrated, leaving nothing behind but empty space. "Damn droid thinks gonna spoil me ritual 'ere, eh Bilo. Now get yer back movin' an' get them others down!" Bruno just wanted to continue his vile ritual when he heard "I don't think so" from behind, spoken by Bilo. "Ye can 'swell assis.." Silence. The words broke up in midsentence though Bruno's mouth kept talking - without any words coming forth. At first Bruno didn't realize what just happened but ever cautious he had prepared for such an emergency - though not necessarily coming from his ally. A ghostly form of Bruno stepped out of the gnome's body and went out of the area of silence "What are ye doin' ye little bug!? Are ye mad??" but he got his answer when Johan Talyana removed his Bilo-illusion. "Fooled by yer own tricks." - "Ye!?" - "My cousin Arkin thought you would undertake such a quest and he had something good with me." - "I'll give ye yer good when..." *stomp stomp stomp* "Gnome! The Avatar of Nature has been dealt with! What do you want me to kill next?" the Bone Devil asked and an evil smile crossed Bruno's mouth as he slowly turned his head back to Johan. What disturbed him however was the fact that Johan's smile was even broader and eviler than his'... Drak'something had all his hands full with the sneaky assassin. He ran back and forth, sniffing, checking his surroundings, sharpening his ears, nothing helped! Time and again he was hit by something, be it strength-sapping rays or acid arrows that now coated his hide. Everytime he thought he heard something from behind the next tree, he found nothing but air ...and an arrow into his back shot from the other side. This game went on for quite some time and Drak'something had to use all his healing spells - though with the Shadowbeast gone he found some of them interupted again. It would have been easier to find a needle in the vast ocean than this expert at stealth. Arrow after arrow pierced the Direbears hide and not just somewhere but exactly on those spots where it hurt the most! Drak was already about to find his peace as his world grew dizzier and hazy but this time luck was on the Circle's side when Kelek accidently crushed a slug under his boot and the nasty splash sound was more than enough the keen ears of Drakiel Mooring needed: with a deep feral growls born out of the power of common sense absence he focused his mind on the spot where the sound originated from and gave birth to purple flames that enveloped the sneaker, and made him as visible as a flashlight - 30ft infront of the big Direbear! The Bone Devil stomped into Johan's direction and Bruno was still puzzeled why the halfling had that stupid smile - perhaps he wants to die? - but he should've done his homework for Johan Talyana wasn't called the Master of the Planes for nothing. The cleric extended his will and bore it down on the Outsider, crushing any upcoming feeble resistance, and a few heartbeats later, the Devil spoke again "With pleasure, my Master", turning around to charge the gnome. "Them damn devils ain't not wat 'em used to be! Gonna get me somethin else next time." he cursed but that was all he wasted on expressing his demeanor for the next second was dedicated to spellcasting. The same greenish ray came out of his hand and flew through the air with lightning fast speed, faster than a mortal's eye could follow, and hit Johan despite his evasive maneuver on the hip. Before Johan could even turn his head the disintegration had already begun to burrow a hole into his lower torso, the shock alone would've killed any other being but the Master of the Planes was no ordinary man and he quickly countered with a cure application, but not before his left leg was fully vaporized. Barely alive Johan dragged himself behind the next tree to seek cover from the deadly gnome, and to heal his wounds before he passed out from bloodloss. Kelek couldn't believe it! For the first time in years someone had detected him! He thought himself the pinnacle of stealthcraft, a maestro of hiding and sneaking, and perhaps he had also overestimated himself a bit. He hadn't time for this as the Dire Bear didin't hesitate to charge upon him and there was no doubt that he wouldn't survive a single round. A freal growl came from the druid. It was absolutely nonsense that Kelek should transform into a pidgeon without reason but that was the power of Drak'something; he forced the fabrics of reality to bent to his wishes and Kelek already felt the transformation beginning in his body, his arms felt lighter, and he had that strange sensation within his head but then he focused all his willpower on countering the polymorph and miraculously, he succeeded! But he was far from save as he now found himself dwarfed by a huge DireBear that looked 10 feet down on him. A large paw descended on his location, another claw and now the gigantic wide opened mouth tried to swallow him whole! The first claw only glanced him but still drew a deep gash into the small man, and the second claw was already on its way - heralding his doom. But Kelek was a man of many tricks. Despite the world spinning around his head, he gathered his senses and in a magnificent display of highest stealth art, he dropped a sphere of darkness upon him (negating the nonsense flames) hid in the Direbears own shadow! Bruno had no time to bother about pursuing and finishing Johan with a dangerous Bone Devil infront of him so he decided to teleport into savety. "Ye know, was'n good time we had but me's gonna go now!" and he began weaving the threads of magic when the Bone Devil answered "Denied!" and released a web of darkness that anchored the gnome in place - not physically but transdimensionally. Now Bruno was in trouble. His body muted and he within a projected image threatened by a large fiend he decided to shield his body first when he saw the viscious glee in the devil's eye when looking upon his torso. Two invisibility spells took care of the worst but his spellcasting revealed his position notheless. Bruno added a few illusions to confuse the denizen of the lower planes and he was lucky indeed as a wall of ice parted connection between him and an illusion instead of his projected image - which would have forced him back into his body. Still, this maneuver of the Devil worried him the most and he knew he had to get rid of the silence and the dimensional anchor first. Before he could begin to dispel it he had to remove the counterspell rings on his finger which cost him valuable time, time that the devil used wisely and fear began to swell up within him for he knew that this foe wouldn't just kill him. He also feared to involuntarily remove his own protections so he decided to carefully dispel one spell at a time, and succeeded in removing the silence dweomer... But just as he returned into his own body his vision was robbed! He heard Johan's prayers who apparently had decided to join in again but he could only guess his exact location - and not even that when he was rendered deaf aswell. Bruno was in dire straits! Blinded, deafened, dimensional anchored, a Bone Devil basing him and a powerful cleric in the back was too much for his taste but fortunately he still had his projected image which lend him sight and sound alike. There, twohundred feet away lay Johan on the ground, one leg completely eaten away by his disintegrational magic and pale from blood loss but still able to cast spells. Bruno knew he had to get out of here or suffer death - or worse - so he continued to dispel the harmful magic on his body. Though the Devil hit empty air more often than not (thanks to his invisibility) Johan seemed to perfectly know where he was and so another fiery rift opened above his head and poured lava upon his head. The stream missed him but the heat was enough to peel the flesh from parts of his body and releiving him of the spare hair he had. He managed to get his ears back online and even removed the anchoring spell but payed a terrible price. Barely alive he wove the last dweomer that transported him away from here and onto a far distant Plane of Existance - a refuge home he once discovered and deemed savely enough as a retreat, and so leaving the halfling, the devil, his images, and the Forest behind. "G'bye ye stupid dude. Gonna come back when me's done with some things an then me's gonna kick ye in the nuts!" But Bruno had learned nothing about Johan - the Master of Planes that could alter time and space ...or even adjust Bruno's place of destination a bit. Despite the deep wound he suffered from the Monsterbear, he was in his element again. Kelek pierced the wildshaped druid from every angle possible, even from above or below as the fight took to the air overtime. Desperation showed on the bears face, seeking to escape the onslaught, he ran back and forth, tried to get cover only to be attacked from the other side...it was a long painful death but eventually Drak'something went down, reverting to his true form (a cloud of nonsense). Kelek quickly went to the dead druid and searched his pockets for the Sapling, or clues but couldn't find any. "DAMN!" he cursed and in a fit of rage he stabbed the body a couple of times with his dagger. But then, his eyes caught something of interest: Lillith, the Avatar of Nature lay bleeding and severly wounded on the ground, but she was alive. A viscious smile formed on Kelek's mouth as he devised a plan in his evil mind. "Ah, my lady, it pains me to see you in such a bad condition." - S...stay a...away *pain* from me, monster!"" - "Please, you misjudge me. I am very concerned about your wellfare and I have to insist to let me heal your wounds. Please accompany me to the Comittee's headquarter, dear Lillith." She tried to crawl away but Kelek just grabbed her at her hair and pulled her back. He was just about to formulate a mocking apology when he saw the Bone Devil returning and heading in his direction. "Please lay still, this journey might be a bit nauseating." then he pulled a small device out of his pocket, activated it, and no second later both were gone... Bruno was still blinded so this was the first thing he planed to remove for he was curious about the strange mindnumbing sound that assaulted his ears which he had never heard before on his refuge plane. Whispering voices seemed to talk to him though he couldn't understand a word, and a cold shiver ran down his spine; his legs seemed to walk on ash or something. Where the hell was he? And just as he was beginning to dispel the blindness he heard a voice "Trrreeeesssspppasssssseeerrrrrsss wwiiiilllllll beeeeeee pppprrrrrooooosssseeeeccuuutttteeddddd". And the same moment he got his sight back, he got a shock for his life as he found himself dwarfed by a 15 ft tall Harvester! White spirits arose from the ground and flew through Bruno's body, dealing him great pains, another spirit entered his torso and exited on his back, some even went into his ears and came out on the other side or even his mouth and nose, convincing that he had never felt real pains before, and when his only wish left was to die, the Avatar of Death stepped forward and with a lightning-fast stroke drew his Scythe across the gnome's body "Haaarrrrvvveesssttteeeddddd!" Chapter 2: High in the North, far away from the Corelands where civilization waged its war in political intrigues and nobles vied for power, bustling cities dotting the landscape, or merchants crowded the overland roads, there was another battle raging in the heights of the desolate Thundercliff Mountains, though on a much smaller scale. Not so for Vandameer of Skyholm. He was one of the sworn defenders of a tribe of giant eagles that in return helped the few humans that lived in this savage region. The few scattered settlers choose the strongest and most dedicated ones among them and send them to a remote monastry where they were trained in the art of war aswell as religion, and where their mind was set to put all their efforts - even their lives - into the protection of the huge birds. The main adversaries of these clerics are a small tribe of arctic dwarves that happened to have giant eagle eggs on their list of favorite meals and so they clashed often in brief struggles until one side retreated only to gather strength and return to fight over the Theaallum Eyrie for this was the name of the Giant Eagle Clan. Vandameer's breathing was fast and his heart paced like the winds blowing in this heights, making his hair dance to its song. On the other side stood Parable, one of the fiercest warriors the arctic dwarves had to offer, and he had fought him more than once in the past. Both of them had traded blows so far but the wounds were minor and their blades still unblooded. Parable circled another rock while whirling his spiked chain while Vandameer kneeled down to speak some prayers - without losing the dwarf out of his sight of course, and his trusty companion Weisspelz - a celestial wardog for a normal canine couldn't survive in the icy cold, at his side. They locked gazes for another second then charged each other and let their weapons meet in midair. The clash of steel echoed throughout the mountain range, joining the heavy winds in its song only once in a while interrupted by their angry shouts or growls of the golden-eyed dog. Vandameer had trained his companion well as it took on a flanking position opposite to him and made the dwarfs life harder. But when it comes to food a dwarf was hard to keep at bay - especially when food was as rare as it was in this region, and so Parable whirled his chain once - forcing Vandameer to dodge which bought him the time to make a strike against Weisspelz and brought the chain hard on his back. The dog's heavenly resistance kept him alive but barely so; still Weisspelz was no less devoted than the cleric and so he fought on. Corinthus Avius had traveled a long way - and even in his fast eagle shape it took him several sleepless days to reach this mountain range. Not only did the urgent mission and the pangs of guilt he felt keep him awake, but also his persecutor that chased him since he left the High Forest: Aku - the Shapeshifting Master of Darkness didn't grant him a moment's breath. Twice already they had traded blows when Aku managed to close in and attack him with fire and claw; twice he managed to escape but everytime he had payed dearly for it. The wounds he received in the abandoned temple that had healed slowly, reopened and made his flight a painful one. He was out of healing spells long ago and he used up all his wildshapes so without rest it was only a matter of time until Aku was upon him - and maybe this time there's no stopping him. Too much was at stake and when he passed another moutain top his eagle eyes spotted some movements several thousand feets below. Two beings fought against each other: a human clad in a metallic armor and a thick pelt covered every spot on his body to prevent freezing while a celestial dog was apparently on his side for the canine kept a firm bite on the other ones leg - an arctic dwarf with long white hair and a white flowing beard that reached over his round belly whirled a spiked chain through the air. Corinthus had no idea about the inhabitants of this region but when the dwarf killed the white dog it was clear to him that this one was no friend of nature. He had to speak to them for he was too exhausted to fly on, out of most of his spells and wildhshapes and with Aku on his heels he had no time to rest and memorize anew as he normally does before EVERY fight. And while Corinthus prepared for a dive, the fight below went on. "Tu nunquam pervenire haliaeetus ovum!" Vandameer said to the bleeding dwarf when they just clashed their weapons together and holding them in midair "Attemptare prohibere Parable conciliare ovum medius funus!" he growled back and emphasized his point with a viscious slash across Vandameer's tigh! The cleric did his best to hide his pain for he knew what was at stake but he had a hard time doing so. Parable was equally wounded but unlike the many times before he didn't retreat to lick his wounds which puzzeled Vandameer. Perhaps his hunger drove him on, perhaps something else but the defender knew that this was a fight to the last breath now, and Parable pressed the attack even more. Perhaps he should prolong this fight for he could always heal - a benefit that Parable didn't have but he also knew that the fight would long be over before the sturdy and enduring arctic dwarf would be fatigued. Apparently devotion proved stronger than hunger: Parable whirled his chain forward which was blocked by Vandameer's weapon but unfortunately it winded itself around the blade. Before Parable could tuck the sword out of Vandameer's grip, the cleric dealt him a direct hit with his armored gauntlet against the nose which made the dwarf's world spin. A follow up kick against the dwarf's lower legs dropped him to the floor while the blade came free of the chain, circled once twice around Vandameer's wrist until he embedded 10 pounds of steel in Parable's belly... Vandameer let his head drop and made a quick prayer to this worthy foe. They might have been enemies but in a desolate region like this every aquaintance is an intimate one and he wasn't sure if he would miss the skirmishes with the dwarf. However, it was a serious game, a deadly game, and one of the players had just been kicked out of the game of life. A flapping behind him roused Vandameer from his thoughts so he whirled around and saw a normal eagle land several feet infront of him. At first that didn't seem too out of place to him but when the eagle began to transform into a halfling, his jaw dropped down while his eye almost rolled out of his head. "Amicus vel inimicus?" he asked, holding his blade infront of him. Corinthus made a few steps forward, holding up his hands in an universal gesture of peace, and it apparently convinced the cleric that he was no threat - either that or the many wounds the halfling had. "I am Corinthus Avius" the druid said in Vandameer's tongue for his anchestors originated from the north - hence his name. "What do you want, eagleman?" - "I am a druid from the lands far to the south. I am on an important mission and its success decides over the fate of the World herself!" Vandameer seemed to think about something but remained silent "I have with me the sapling..." - "Tell me, Eagleman, are you sent from the gods to act as the One that is heralded as the spokesman of the Theaallum Eyrie?" - "Uhm, yes... Yes, that's me." Vandameer dropped to one knee and held his blade up "Then command me, Most Holy One! My blade is yours!" A smile crossed Corinthus lips but he tried to ban it from his face before the cleric looked up again "Stand up, loyal servant of the Terrantum Eyrie" - "It's Theaallum" :uh-huh: - "Uh, I just wanted to test you. Listen, I have an important mission for you! You must journey farther north, beyond the Thundercliff Mountains and the Icedeserts to the Everfrost Woods..." Corinthus and Vandameer sat down in the snow and while Corinthus explained the mission, Vandameer listened. After half an hour, both of them clasped wrists and Vandameer traveled north. As soon as he was out of sight, Corinthus prepared himself for Aku... The Everfrost Woods. Many legends had been spun around this magnificent coniferous forest in the highest north possible. Those few bold explorers who managed to reach it brought back tales about an unbelievable beauty that rivaled paradise weren't it for the freezing cold. Snowcovered fir trees decorated with golden-yellow cones gave the whole forest an aura of peace and serenity, the clean air stinging in the lungs from the cold but none of them could wait to inhale the next breath for so fresh it was that they thought to suffocate when they returned home, and soft snowflakes slowly descended to the ground like a shower of white happieness. Together with the snowing, visible sunlight created a wonderful display of rays that were reflected from the iced ponds that were as smooth as any mirror. Few creature dwelled in this region but all were resistant or even comfortable in this subarctic enviroment: winterwolfs, icesnakes, but also more exotic monsters like cryohydras or remorhaz, and even the occosional white dragon named this heaven on Earth their home. And there were also a handful of druids, scattered throughout the vast forest. For Jaguaro, it was a day like any other as she waded through the snow without leaving a single footprint. She had felt a disturbing sensation during her hibernation so she was now going to investigate this sensation further and it had led her to one of the many iceponds. When she arrived there she didn't find anything odd: a polar bear was fishing through the a whole in the pond that he create himself but he was unsuccessful so far. Jaguaro leaned against a tree and watched this spectacle with a smile on her blue lips when the bear managed to get hold on an icesnake - she didn't worry about the huge bear at all since he knew her and even considered her a friend - at least not a threat. The druid was just about to go back to her wintersleep when she felt this presence again! This time closer and more intense! Not wanting to take any risks, she hid below a fir tree and waited what was about to happen. The Polar Bear sensed it too for he stopped fishing and gave a loud bear sounds that broke the everpersistent silence of the Everfrost Woods. The bear began to sniff at something, he was clearly disturbed, and just as she wanted to step out to calm him again, a swarm of small shadows came into sight and descended onto the bear like a swarm of black bees. The bear growled and stood up, batted against the darkness but futilely but it took him some time to realize that - time that he bought with pain! The small shadows went into his ears and mouth, only to come out through another opening; never had Jaguaro seen such a thing! She wanted to help the bear, stood up and broke into a dead run but the much faster bear had the same idea and fled the shadows, and it wasn't long before Jaguaro lost sight of the animal. Still, she followed the tracks. Vandameer had a long and difficult journey behind him but the eagleman had promised him to guard over the ancient Theaallum Eyrie during his absence. Though he wasn't very comfortable with the thought of leaving the Clan, he trusted the Chosen One's words - even though he still couldn't see the connection between the Eyrie and this far away region. It had been twenty days to get to this place but finally he came on a small glade in the middle of the forest where a slender woman knelt next to a fallen polar bear... "What is wrong with the bear, if I may ask" Vandameer began which made Jaguaro whirl around but then she relaxed somewhat, judging the stranger standing on the edge of the clearing no threat. The cleric kneeled down beside her. "I am Vandameer of Skyholm, sworn protector of the Theaallum Eyrie." - "Jaguaro" was all the druid replied and she even had to clear her throat for it had been a long time since she had last used her voice, a pity, Vandameer thought for it was a nice melodious and exotic voice. "I know how it feels to lose a companion. You have my deepest condolences." - "He isn't dead. I've found him lying here after he was attacked by some strange creatures I've never seen before. He will survive." - "That is good news Jaguaro." - "What brings you to this region?" Vandameer sighed once then replied "I am on a most holy mission, at least that is what the Chosen One told me and I am not authorized to doubt his words. He gave me this sapling here, saying I must deliver it to one of the druids of this Forest. A druid of kind heart." Jaguaro smiled. "I am a druid but what makes you think I have a kind heart?" - "The way you care about this bear." - "Isn't that normal?" - "It should be but unfortunaltely there are those who care for themselves more than for others; those who would kill to get a benefit. It is they from whom we have to protect this World." - "I don't understand... Animals kill for their benefit - food, survival, but I don't consider this wrong. It is the way nature works." A troubled smile crossed Vandameer's lips "I envy you for the peace in which you grew up. However, I also have to warn you about the dangers beyond this forest. Not everyone is as honest as an animal is." - "Why do you have to warn me?" - "Because you have to keep this sapling! It is the sapling for something called the Tree of Life and according to the Chosen One, it is most important since it saves Nature. You must travel to a location called High Forest and plant this sapling when the blue moon meets the winter solstice or the World might be doomed." Vandameer explained her the details during the next hour and soon thereafter they were on their way. When they reached the border of the Everfrost Woods, they had to say goodbye. Vandameer ventured back to his Eyrie, while Jaguaro and her new polar bear companion headed towards the High Forest ...and none of them noticed the black presence inside the bear. |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:34 AM | Excerpt from the Chronicles of Arkin Jozil: Never in my live have I felt a burden like the one I am carrying now. And never in my life had I imagined that I would play such a major part in the events that lead to either the destruction or the salvation of the World. When I first entered the famous gladiator city located on the Gladius Hill, all I wanted to do is studying the many ancient tomes hidden within the libraries but seldomly can we chose our own fate. Here I am, sorting through all that has happened in the past few weeks while my back aches for having lost 10 years to Klare Nacht. Klare Nacht. He still sends a shiver down my spine when I think about our meeting; no face greeted me but only an endless darkness dotted with tiny twinkling stars within the depths of his hooded robe but as endless as this blackness, so endless is his knowledge. I asked him how to defeat the Shadowbeasts, these vile creatures - impervious to all attacks - that take over a body and corrupt it, bending their minds to their whim ...until the host dies. Even then, the Shadowbeast just picks another poor soul. From what I learned after I returned from the High Forest is that they had been defeated once, long ago in ancient times but the knowledge on how a Shadowbeast can be killed had been lost. So I asked Klare Nacht, ...and Klare Nacht answered. - Arkin Jozil, Mystic (20.Eleasias 1317 GR) [GR=Gladius Reckoning] Chapter 1: The Manipulator Jaguaro rode on her polarbear companion, her only friend in these troubled times, and the only one that could make her smile once in a while. Being raised in the icy paradise of the Everfrost Woods, she knew nothing about civilization, nothing about what lay beyond the borders of her home, and nothing about the dangers that seem to lurk behind every rock. The Thundercliff Mountains had vanished behind the horizon days ago and she was still far far away from her destination: the High Forest, the vast forest where she has to plant the sapling of the Tree of Life at a certain time that she didn't even know about. Brigands assaulted her, natural predators fell upon her, thunderstorms and other hazards challenged her but Jaguaro survived, thanks to her many talents, and of course her bear. The last unfortunate encounter was with this friendly elf - Quarion was his name - who had evil shemes in his mind and hadn't it been for her companion, she would surely be dead by now. Infact, she was amazed about the natural cunning the ursine creature possessed. Oh, how little she knew. How little she knew, thought Johan Talyana as he looked into his scrying screen, a big portal-like thing that showed a clear picture of the far-away druid and her companion moving over an open plain. The Comittee was spending incredible ressources to find the Tree of Life sapling as was the mission that Zedarak had given them, and when it comes to the Ancient Evil his word is encouragement enough to pull all levers. Of course, they would've found Jaguaro in no time - no need to say what would have happened then - and get their fingers on the sapling were it not for Johan Talyana, the Master of the Planes, who held his protective hand over the druid by making sure that no scrying spell revealed her position, and no teleport finds its way anywhere close to her. If one might now think that the halfling is a major player for the Forces of Good one might think again, for Johan didn't care in the least about Jaguaro's wellfare, or the cause of the do-gooders though one thing he was for sure: a major player, with emphasize on the last word. Johan was a manipulator, not only through time and space, but also the one who weaves the strands that hold every plot. A slight shift here, a little correction there, and the fight of good versus evil gains a push in a direction Johan prefered - whatever that might be. And while towering demons stomped through the woods and beings of light roamed the lands, Johan stayed in the back while still pulling the strings. A knock on the door roused Johan from his thoughts and he quickly deactivated the scrying screen with a wink of his hand. No second later, Arkin Jozil entered the chamber. "Well met, Johan!" - "Ye could've knocked on the door, halfling!" - "I did, my friend, I did." and Arkin sat down on a chair. Arkin and Johan were distant relatives but it was more the racial bond that connected all halflings that drew the two of them together, and they occosionally drank and sang together. Arkin regarded Johan was a friend who needs his ear and his words for the older halfling always seemed to be very reserved; it had probably something to do with his daughter Catherina Talyana and in fact, it was on more than one such discussion that Johan mentioned her with a sadness in his voice. However, today it was Arkin that had a cloud over his head... "Ye ain't seem to be in a bedder mood then I so what's the matter with ye?" - "Ah, it's nothing." - "That's the same answer I've given ye when ye asked me last time." and this brought a smile to Arkin's face. Of course he could trust Johan, after all that he has risked when he showed up at the battle for the Tree of Life sapling two weeks ago which reminded Arkin of something "Have I thanked you for your invaluable aid at the Druid's Groove?" - "A hunnered times" Johan answered though he flinched a bit at the mentioning of this fight, and he absentmindly rubbed his regenerated leg that he had lost in the battle against Bruno. However, this seemed like a good fate compared to what Bruno surely had relived when Johan had sent him to the Harvester's cathedral on the Fugue Plane. "Alright" Arkin began "I have invested a great efforts in battling the Shadowbeasts. I have fought them but they rise again as soon as they are destroyed. I have studied tomes upon tomes, I have ventured into the High Forest and back again, I have consulted an all-knowing being, I have tried everything but to no avail. I'm in a dead end now. And I'm tired, Johan. I'm tired of wasting so much effort for nothing." - "Hey hey hey, heads up. I haven't seen ye in such a mood for a while." - "And I have every reason. The Shadowbeasts are spawning and we cannot stop them." - "Din't ye say they've been defeated in the past?" - "Yes, they had been a nuisance in the distant past and had almost taken over the World but Archangel Gabriel had found a way to defeat them. That's what I asked Klare Nacht." - "An what did he say?" - "He said I should ask him myself." - "So why ain't ye doin this?" This brought a puzzled look on Arkin's face for he didn't know what Johan meant "But Archangel Gabriel is dead for 10000 years now!!" he said, throwing his hands up in frustration but Johan remained calm, obviously deep in thoughts though his eyes never leaving Arkin's and as the smile on his face broadened with every new plot the Manipulator weaved, he simply answered "And I say ye should gonna pay him a visit"... "Time Travel??? Are you serious?"- "I am. See, tis is nothing else than another step, ye just have to open the right door, and I have the key to it." - "B..b..but..." - "Nothin 'but', ye wanna meet the Angel then ye gonna meet him when he's still flyin around. Takes me some time though to prepare everything so I suggest ye go off an read some books about the good ol' times.". That discussion was held one week ago and Arkin had spent every minute with meditation and learning as much as he could within the short time by spending as much time as possible in the magnificent library of the Celestial Forces' white marble castle. He told no one of his plans for this would have surely brought questions and the need for answers on the table though the old aasimar librarian Siddic Aurian surely suspected something and so he helped Arkin whenever he could. "What is 'Heavy Magic'?" - "Heavy Magic, describes the unrestricted usage of spellpower which led to the development of incredibly powerful spells. While 10th level spells were more or less available, few could cast spells more powerful than that, and only one 12th level spell is known to have ever existed." - "Very good, Master Arkin. Next question: which was the most important city during the Age of Dawn?" - "Kim'kaleist the Magnificent, the Jewel of the World, rumored to be the most powerful city that ever existed and the most advanced civilization at that time where celestials walked the streets among mortals. It was the capital of the World and had portals to all existing planes that were accessable for everyone." - "Master Arkin, by all respect, that is not quite correct. The most important city in these times was Mesombra. Kim'kaleist is a legend, like the sunken city of Atlantis. It is highly doubtful that it ever existed." - "Yes, you're right of course. I just like the thought that such a city might have existed. Yes, Mesombra, sure. Ok, ask me the next question." An then it was time. Arkin, fully equipped with spells, items, and knowledge alike made his way to Johan's tower without looking back. "So are ye ready?" - "I won't get any more ready." Arkin replied while he was looking at the big portal that dominated Johan's Laboratory. The older halfling began to weave mystical patterns into the air while operating a strange device that stood infront of the portal and made humming noises which increased by the second. Waves of blackness appeared and filled the circle, moving like if it was directly stolen from the seas, and then the first symbol on the portal began to glow. "Alright, it's ready in any second. It will transport ye within a few hunnerd miles o' this region; from there ye're on yer own. However, here's a device and ye're well advised not to lose it since it will open the portal again an bring ye back. Only works once though and only on the location where ye first appeared!" The second and third symbol have begun to glow and the noise increased so that they had to speak louder to understand each other. "An another important thing is to know that everything ye do affects the present so don't blow somethin up!" Wind came up and made their hair dance wildly as the fourth and finally the last symbol was activated "I won't do that! Thanks for everything Johan! When I come back, I will..." - "Bah. Spare that. NOW GO!" ...and then there was silence. Chapter 2: Ebou Dar and beyond Nothing. Silence. Colors. Wind. The World spun around him, dazed and stunned, he couldn't move a finger, couldn't grasp a thought, all he saw were colors that passed infront of his eye so fast that they formed a bright whirlpool of red, yellow, green, blue. It took him some seconds until he could finally focus on something, his vision returned, and the aching in his head vanished. Arkin looked around. He stood on a plateau at the lower base of a huge mountain but still high enough to get a good view of the region. It was mostly plains and the occosional mound, some lonely trees dotted the landscape but the region didn't look too fertile. Deciding that one direction was as good as the other ones he began his descent. The descent was more difficult than anticipated but he made progress and was finally almost at the bottom of the mountain when he heard a strange voice "Ahihihihihi" - "Who goes there?" Nothing. Arkin looked around, left right up back and just turned around in time to see a redscaled figure fullimpacting him and sending him 20ft down to the next lower level. Fortunately Arkin knew how to fall, and even more important how to get back to his feet quickly. The attacker was a denizens of the lower planes, that much was clear, but he had no idea what kind of fiend it was for he had never seen or heard of this particular species. It was only 5ft tall with small batlike wings and a breath of brimstone. Small horns protuted from its head and sharp teeth greeted the halfling. A minor fiend, Arkin thought, that much was clear. He didn't consider the being too much of a threat so he didn't want to spend all his spells on one foe for he probably could rest for a while in this dangerous region and he might have other encounters that day. Arkin drew his reloading crossbow and fired a salve of bolts at him but the fiend just laughed as the bolts failed to penetrate his scales and Arkin cursed himself for not bringing cold iron arrows with him. Little did he know that they would have been futile aswell, as were the Spiritual weapons he summoned which passed right through the fiend without dealing any harm. The small demon began an attack on its own now; it grabbed a big round stone and threw it at Arkin with such a speed that the Mystic's eyes couldn't follow its movements. The stone hit him squarely in the stomach and sent him back flying through the air. Arkin couldn't believe what he just saw and how much strength this little monster possessed but it occured to him that his mission was in jeopardy. Not taking any chances now, Arkin prayed for divine power, his size increased as well as his luck and the favor of the gods, and finally he polymorphed himself into a huge anishag, and made himself invisible. But if he thought that this would be enough to scare the fiend away, he got a bad surprise when it chose to go toe to toe with Power-Arkin. Both combatants flew onto each other! A huge Arkin impacted with the little fiend, ...and Arkin was thrown back. The fiends claws raked left and right while Arkin's blows seemed to be completely ineffective. Just to make sure his spells worked Arkin smashed a rock to pieces. This worked. But when he attacked the fiend again, the little one suffered only minor wounds, nothing compared to what it should meanwhile look like. The fight was brief and bloody, and one-sided, and it didn't take long until Arkin lost his consciousness... Nothing. Silence. Colors. Distant voices. Wet. Arkin's world spun again, and despite the experience he now had with this he was sure he'd never get used to it. He felt a hand on his head, an icy cold hand! and he instantly threw himself back against ...the wall? and forced his vision to adjust while he weaved defensive patterns in the air (he was far too dizzy to cast a spell!) but when he finally looked into deep blue human eyes, he relaxed a bit. He was in a straw-bed, within a primitive cottage, water dropped from his forehead and the female infront of him still held the wet towel in her hand. She smiled. "Ang'har-attattaradar ensenduii-jalatt." she asked and Arkin only now realized what happened. "I'm fine" he said in ancient common "Thanks." - "You're welcome". She was dressed in simple clothes that were made of deerskin with some colored bands that decorated her outfit. Her long blonde hair was braided and held together at the back of her head; feathers decorated her mane but that all paled against the warm smile she had on her lips. She was beautiful, a natural beauty that he hasn't seen in a long time with all the make-up Gladiasian woman put on. And she also seemed to be shy. "I am Arkin Jozil" the mystic offered while trying to give her an equally warm smile. "Hanna" - "Well met, Hanna. Please, tell me where I am and what happened" Excerpt from the Chronicles of Arkin Jozil: Lady Luck was with me that day! I still couldn't understand the power this unknown fiend had, neither could I understand why I am still alive but at this point, in this desolate region in a time long forgotten, I would be a fool to question my luck. The people of Ebou Dar - for this is the name of the village - are very helpful and were the reason why my many wounds healed quickly. I spent a lot of time with Hanna, sharing stories about the region while I told her stories from Gladius - and sold it for nothing more than faery tales for I couldn't tell anyone from where I came ...or better: from 'when'. The settlement at the base of the moutain from where I descended was primitive compared to the city I call home now but its inhabitents have an amazing practical intelligence that helps them get along in this wilderness, and helped me to get back on my feet. I spent a full tenday in Ebou Dar, talked to the people, learned more about their culture, and more about the region. They venerate the ancient god called Amaunator who is long dead in my time and they have a daily gathering at the large rune-covered obelisk that stands in the center of the village. A closer inspection reveiled runes even ancient for this time which I was unable to decipher but one symbol - a triangle pointing upward with a small circle on top of it, and both encircled by a ring - seemed familiar to me though I couldn't remember. The worshipping ceremony isn't that different from other primative tribes in the present but still, there is a dedication among the people that surprises even a mysticar like me. As much as I enjoyed my stay - especially my time with Hanna, I knew it wasn't meant to last forever but I in order to get more information, I had to speak with the Tribe Chieftain first, a female called Cresting Sun... - Arkin Jozil, Mystic (2.Eleint -9285 GR) It was on the twelth day that I was granted an audience by the tribe chieftain. She lived in a big tent that was decorated with colored feathers and other things that looked like dreamcatchers. The interior was primitive, as was the technology level of this tribe, but it clearly distinguished itself from the rest of the cottages. Cresting Sun sat in the back of the tent on a makeshift throne - at least it didn't look like a permanent thing. She was tall and big, weighing easily more than 200 pounds, with arms that seemed to be able to snag a tree in half, but despite all this she radiated a calm and friendly aura, and her eyes gleamed with wisdom. Next to her stood the Tribal Shaman, Glorious Bear, and where the chieftain had too much mass, the old shaman had to little. "I greet you, mighty Cresting Sun" Arkin said with a deep bow "I want to thank you for the warm welcome I have received here." Cresting Sun just smiled "There is no need to thank us. We have to thank you for the time you spent in our community" - "It was a pleasure." - "Was?" - "Yes, sadly so. I have to move on." - "You know the wilderness is a difficult terrain. You encountered one of the outsiders." - "I thought it was just a minor demon!" - "It was a minor demon" the shaman interrupted "Only a fool would fight such a foe" - "I have fought demons and devils before, and emerged victotious" That made Cresting Sun and Glorious Bear look at each other, and before the shaman could sneer and reply to this, the chieftain said to Glorious Bear "Perhaps Arkin had help back then, or it wasn't a demon but a disguised mortal." - "Whatever, he surely didn't beat one of the outsiders." Arkin wasn't sure what to say but since he had witnessed - and felt - it on his own hide, he couldn't deny their statements. Apparently, the denizens of the lower planes were far far more powerful in this time so that even a minor fiend like the one he encountered proved a lethal threat. "My apologies for my arrogance. Perhaps my mind is still clouded from the fight. However, it doesn't change the fact that I must leave your settlement." - "If this is your wish we will equip you with everything you need to survive. But tell me, where do you want to go?" - "I don't really know. I am not familiar with this region. Is there a city nearby, I mean, something like a huuuuuge settlement" he asked, emphasizing the size description by making a big circle in the air with his hands. "There is such a place. If you travel 12 days and 12 nights you will come upon the place-that-is-crowded" - "Yes, that might be what I'm looking for." - "We are glad to help." - "Alright, I will pack my seven things then. I have one additional question. What is the name of that place?" - "We call is Place-that-is-crowded but its inhabitants call it ...Kim'kaleist." Chapter 3: Kim'kaleist Though it wasn't easy for Arkin to say goodbye to his new friends, the chance to see the magnificent city of Kim'kaleist made his heart leap! The journey was long and hard. He was equiped with enough rations to sustain him for two weeks but his feet ached from the constant march. He couldn't use his teleportation magic for this was a dangerous attempt when one didn't know the destination, and legendary Kim'kaleist surely qualified as such. This had always been his favorite story when he was young and the prospect that such a community existed played a part in him becoming a mysticar. And this was the reason why he almost fainted when he first looked upon the fabled city... The whole thing was made of white marble, a masterpiece of architecture! Toweres rose everywhere high into the sky as if there was a competition going on who build the highest one, and each tower was connected with several others via bridges so that the everyday's city life took place in three dimensions. Some of the bridges even led to empty points in space and ended there but after some time he witnessed the reason behind this when portals opened and beings came through or left the city, most of them being otherwordly beings. The streets - all levels - were very clean and as soon as someone dropped something, unseen servants picked it up and discarded it into portal-trashcans that deposited the waste on another plane. No one seemed to be overly perplexed by the amount of winged beings that flew around, and he even saw the occosional devil walking down the street! It was a busy place, loud and noisy and everyone seemed to be in a hurry though there was an order to the frantic pace that amazed Arkin. "Excuse me Sir, can you... *walks-on* Uh, Miss, I need your... Hey, little one, I have..." and the answer was always 'no time'. "If you excuse me Sir, I have overheard your effort to ask a question and I would be glad to be of help" he heard from behind him but when he turned around he almost released a lightning bolt when he found himself standing infront of a DEVIL!! "ARGH! BEGONE FIEND!" Arkin shouted, and this drew the attention of bystanders who just shaked their head about such rude behaviour. Arkin just ran away. He ran through the streets of this city of mixed races, where outsiders walked among men, bumping into passengers once in a while. He told himself to calm down a bit and make an agenda of what to do next. The first thing was visiting some taverns, though he learned more about ancient drinks than vital information, and everything seemed to be much more expensive; informations included so he hadn't acquired much after two days in the city of Kim'kaleist, except that everyone seemed to talk about a war that was raging in the distance. It was on the third day that Arkin made some progress when he looked at the banners that danced in the wind and marked the different organizations. Though they were all unknown to him, there was one exception: the highest building in the city which had a most familiar banner: A golden 8-edged star surounded by a circle on a white background - the banner of the Celestial Forces! Arkin didn't waste a second thought and ran towards the building which wasn't a long way but all the way up, but finally he stood infront of huge doubledoors high in the dizzy heights of the tenth level of the city. As he approached the doors, an illusion of a robed man appeared infront of him hovering in the air. "Welcome to the Celestial Forces, traveler. How may I help you?" the illusion said in a melodical voice "I need to speak with the one in charge here." - "I am sorry but I fear our leaders are very busy." - "I am on an important mission. I came from far away, more than you can imagine, and I must speak to one of the leaders. Who's in charge here?" - "I am sure that is the wish of many in the city. However, our leaders have only so much time and so many things to do. I will see what I can do, and perhaps I might be able to make one of our subcommanders consider to put you on the waiting list to grant you an audience." - "Which is when?" - "Two or three months" - "Two or three MONTHS??" - "If you are lucky" - "You don't seem to understand.. The fate of the World depends on it and..." - "...and you don't understand that only members of the Celestial Forces are allowed to enter the building. I am sorry." Arkin's shoulders slumped. His head dropped in resignation. All hope left his body. A thought crossed his mind. A smile crossed his face. He looked up again "Wait a second... what did you just say? Only members of the Celestial Forces are allowed in?" and his smile broadened as he took out his Celestial Forces badge... The inside of the building surpassed even the magnificent city outside. The whole complex was more a museum of art than a castle; mureals and tapestries decorated every spot, assisted by exotic colorful flowers. Small ponds with tiny waterfalls and other such things assisted by illusions that made this place a heaven on earth. They even passed through the most beautiful garden he had ever seen, so beautiful that he couldn't find words to describe the breathtaking view the combination of most exotic flowers with the game the water played thanks to the architecture, and not to forget the huge tree that stood in the center and dominated everything. The aasimar with whom he held the discussion outside escorted him through the building though it was clear that he asked himself how he became a member of the Celestial Forces with no obvious celestial blood coursing through his veins but since badges of this organization cannot be copied nor stolen nor looted (they'd vanish) the halfling apparently spoke the truth about being a member and so the cleric treated him as such ...at least he tried to. "Mesombra sends a distress signal. They are under siege of a demon army and can't hold on much longer." - "We cannot spare any troops, my Lord, there is another huge army heading in our direction" - "They have to pass through Kieth Niegalas where the 3rd Choir is stationed. They will defeat them." - "Or at least delay them long enough for our forces to return" - "Or delay them long enough. True, venerated Dusk." - "Lord Thirror, this is still too much of a risk! We have to send at least half of our troops in order to break the siege of Mesombra..." - "Which leaves us with half of our forces to defend the city. Kim'kaleist's walls are unbreachable and our mythal protects us from magic! However, Mesombra doesn't have that defenses and I will not leave our brothers and sisters alone! Or do you want to go and tell them that they have to die, Captain?" A knock on the door saved Enilias from giving an answer and everyone's attention was focused on the dirty halfling that stood next to one of the clerics "My deepest apologies, Lord Thirror, but I have a guest here that insists to speak with you" he said without raising his bowed head. "He claims to be a member." which earned him an annoyed look from Arkin. "Very well then, step forward, Mister...?" - "Arkin, Arkin Jozil" - "Welcome Arkin. I am Lord Thirror Gladius, the mayor of Kim'kaleist. To my right side stands Force Commander Enilias, and I am also pleased to introduce you to our venerated..." - "DUSK???" - "Though I am sure I'm not completely unknown, the way ye say it makes me think we have met before." - "Uh, no, no we haven't." he said and hoped he hadn't lied when one emphasizes the word 'before' "It's just... I have heard so many fascinating stories about your deeds." - "Really? Lemme hear some!" - "Uh, ...uh...." - "Perhaps we should postpone this to another time, no disrespect of course. So dear Arkin, what is it that leads you here?" - "I must speak to one of the archangels. Archangel Gabriel to be exact." - "What? Why not see Amaunator himself? Not even Lord Thirror had met one of them in all his live, so why should you just walk in here and request to see one of the highest beings that roams the World???" - "Easy, Lord Enilias, I'm sure Arkin isn't familiar with the hierarchy of the Celestial Forces" - "A member with no knowledge of the hierarchy?" - "Arkin, I am sure that your intentions are pure but the archangels never speak to us. They send messengers which send messengers that inform us of important things. I am sorry to say that but I fear your journey was a futile one." - "Perhaps I can help you in there. I act as an ambassador between the Forces and the superiors of Kim'kaleist, so I have some contacts. Though I can't promise it, I might be able to contact one of the regular angels, a deva." - "Well, ...thanks. That might be better than nothing but I fear it won't be enough." Arkin's shoulders slumped again and when nothing else seemed to come forth, Captain Enilias remarked "It was nice to meet you, Arkin, and I apologize for any crude remarks but we have important things to discuss. I wish you good luck on your journey and farewell." - "Farewell from me aswell, Arkin. I hope you enjoy your stay in Kim'kaleist." and though it was said in a friendly tone, it did leave no doubts that it was also meant to end this discussion "Alright then, it seems that I have to return home. It was worth a try." Arkin walked to the exit but he couldn't help himself but do a last remark meant as a joke "Greet Ixenthor from me and wish him good luck with the Shadowbeasts" and he walked out of the door... "STOOOP!" Enilias shouted after him, and Arkin complied. "What did you just say?" - "Uh, what do you mean?" Dusk and the Mayor seemed equally surprised and with a gesture, Thirror bade him to come back in "I have no idea who this Ixenthor is but how does it come that ye know about the Shadowbeasts? This is top secret stuff!" and for the second time this day, resignation flared up into new hope when Arkin replied "Oh, you might be surprised about what I know about Shadowbeasts..." Arkin sat down at the table (and was surprised when the chair adjusted itself to his height) where a huge map was fixed to the table. It was a three-dimensional map of the region that was of such a magnificent detail that it almost seemed like a window high in the air through which one can look down. Illusionary cities and armies dotted the landscape, and if one focused his gaze for a long time on the map, he could actually see the army moving a millimeter - or was it just his imagination? Arkin told them everything he knew about Shadowbeasts though he modified the stories a bit when it came to 'how' he acquired this information, or 'when'. Still, all three of them were absolutely amazed about what he told them and they treated this information like a treasure, along with Arkin. Even Enilias seemed to be more friendly towards him and he didn't blame the elf for his earlier behaviour in these difficult times. But the leaders weren't the only ones that learned much from their meeting. Arkin - thanks to his knowledge - was given a temporary position as advisor in the War Council, and his insights (that others might call 'knowledge of history') fascinated them. Still, he remembered Johan's words that he must not affect the past and influencing the leaders of Kim'kaleist surely qualified as such, and so he didn't object when Lord Thirror Gladius sent a huge army on its way to besieged Mesombra. Arkin learned a lot in this time as he was introduced into the defenses of the city. The walls were twenty feet thick and twice as high so this was in on itself a very effective defense. The walls were of course magically reinforced so that not even the biggest boulder could do more than a scratch. Additionally, a wall of force - impervious to anything but the most powerful magic - surrounded the city as a glassglobe covers a pie, and those few means to destroy the forcewall were negated by a mythal that blocks all kinds of magic, leaving attackers with no options to penertrate the defenses. All this was powered by the 'Magic Core' that lay deep in the heart of the city. The forces of Kim'kaleist - exceptionally trained in the art of swordmanship and magic alike were equipped with several quasi-magic items that only worked within the city (in range of the Core) but that gave them a significant advantage that made them superior even without the many other protections the city had to offer. He also developed a healthy respect for Lord Thirror Gladius, an otherwordly being with orange skin and yellowish eyes but an aura of serenity that helped everyone to keep discussions at a calm level. Captain Enilias was considered the hero of the city with all the victories he achieved in plenty of battles. Despite the arrogant behaviour he knew the elf was an important part of the city. And then, there was of course Dusk. It wasn't the same Dusk that he knew but that's no surprise with 10000 years between them. Even though Dusk was a powerful being, he lacked the aura of order that constantly surrounds him back in Gladius. But of course Arkin couldn't talk with him about that, at least not in the next ten millenia. Two eventful weeks passed until the army of darkness reached Kieth Niegalas and began to siege of the city. Every day news about this most bloody battle came in, and so did they come in this day... "Any news about Kieth Niegalas" - "We've lost contact 46 hours ago. I just hope nothing had happened!" - "Kieth Niegalas is a strong city that can hold against this army. And even then, we could take in any refugees that gate to Kim'kaleist. This army won't dare to attack us or else...!" A distortion in the air stopped him short and a second later a being appeared out of nowhere. It was an angel - a solar to be exact - but his white wings were scorched and he had many black bruises upon his perfect body. The towering being of goodness didn't lose time and began to speak in a metallic yet melodious voice that flowed into one's ear like a smooth wave "I bear ill news from Kieth Niegalas! The 3rd Choir had been completely destroyed and Archangel Jophiel fell on the battlefield. The city will be overrun within the hour!" - "WHAT?" - "Prepare the gates! We will have to give the refugees medical..." - "There will be no refugees! The gates have been sabotaged." - "Then we have to get them out!" - "Lord Thirror! We will never be there on time!! It is a full days march to Kieth Niegalas!!" - "Make your decision mayor but make it quick. I will now return to my duty. Farewell." and the Solar was gone. And Lord Thirror Gladius made his decision. Five thousand soldiers, archers, mages, clerics, and support troops left the titanic gate of Kim'kaleist to greet the army of darkness. It was a rolling wave of humanoids that sang their song of war in unison as they rode over the plains towards the city of Kieth Niegalas. Thanks to the Arcanists, the mounts could be permanently hasted which cut the journey by half and gave them a good chance to arrive on time. Lord Thirror himself led the army, leaving Captain Enilias back in the city with orders to defend it at all costs. Needless to say that this was something to his liking... "He is a brave man, a good man." - "I know." answered Dusk, "...and I keep saying this to myself all day long but the words don't comfort me." Enilias replied. The next minute was filled with silence as Enilias, Dusk, and Arkin watched as the illusionary army on the map approached Kieth Niegalas. "So Arkin, ye've been quited for some time; anything to add?" - "What I do not understand is why they march towards Kieth Niegalas and not to the High Forest." - "Why the hell should they march on this uncivilized and unpopulated forest??" - "I know for sure what this army wants! Don't ask me how I know this but they went after the Tree of Life, and it is rooted in the High Forest." That drew a most puzzled look from both "Arkin, the Tree of Life is in Kim'kaleist. Actually it is even within this building." - "WHAT? You mean...the huge tree in the garden!?" - "Of course! Are you kidding me??" - "I am here for more than a month now and no one told me that this is the Tree of Life!!" - "Because every child knows this!" - "Of course!! It makes all sense now! The Ancient Evi... uh Army of Darkness wants to destroy the Tree of Life! They will come for Kim'kaleist!!" - "Arkin, calm down. Why should they destroy the Tree of Life? It might be a loss but it won't justify such a big maneuver." - "Not if they destoy the World Stone at the same time!" - "The what?" - "The World Stone! Mount Hyreat! Don't tell me you haven't heard of that. Every child knows that" he said and looked Enilias in the eye "I'm afraid we ain't heard that. Perhaps if ye explain it to us?" - "I can't. But trust me, the Ancient Evils will come for Kim'kaleist!" Chapter 4: The Battle of Kieth Niegalas When the army reached Kieth Niegalas, they found only smoking ruins. They came too late. Most inhabitants were either dead or worse: taken captive by the demon army, with only some dozen soldiers left that fought against the odds but that was more because the demons mocked them. Of course, that ended as soon as they saw new toys approaching and all leaped down the hill on which Kieth Niegalas once stood - and were greeted by an assault of fire, ice, lightning, acid and what other elements existed. The front ranks - consisting of the most devout paladins - broke into a charge and crashed right into the viscious demons while archers with enchanted cold iron arrows assisted their knights and everytime an arrow hit a creature or the ground next to it, it exploded into an earthshaking sonic blast that ripped everything apart that was within the area of effect. And this was only the tip of the iceberg: the heavy mages, or arcanists as the wielders of heavy magic were called, began their chants: they opened rifts in the air through which they poured hot magma from the elemental plane of fire like a red waterfall (a flamestrike paled against this!) that sweeped down the hill and those demons that weren't already dead by the liquid fire were washed down the hill and into the greeting arms of the soldiers of Kim'kaleist who seemed to be completely unaffected by the lava as it flowed around their feet. Once in a while a fist - the size of a tower! - came crashing down from the heavens and left its imprint into the ground - and some red stains where demons had been. This was Heavy Magic at work, and those weren't even the best Kim'kaleist had to offer. But the demons payed them back! Their resistance made it difficult to destroy them and some even fought on with more than five dozen arrows produting from their hide - not counting the ones that bounced harmlessly off of their scales! Within the ruins of Kieth Niegalas, the demon lords stood on the towers of the crumbling city and watched the spectacle from afar. Particulary one of them seemed especially amused about what he saw so he wasn't delighted when one of his minions disturbed him "Lord Themmez, there is something you might find interesting." "Then speak!" - "You might want to see it for yourself." - "If this isn't worth it I will rip your head from your shoulders!" Themmez replied, and followed the minion into one of the deserted buildings. "One of our bug demons has planted a seed in a humanoid. At first we dismissed it as an unimportant thing but ...see yourself" the minor demon offered and Themmez swallowed the little bug that he had been offered. He heard voices in his head, voices talking about military things, then the saw them: "Ah, if that isn't our Force Captain Enilias! Oh how I wish to crush his skull, but why is he so big? Or everything else for that matter!?" - "That's because the recipient is a halfling." - "A Halfling? Ah, and there's Dusk, the footlicker of Bahamut. You will soon lick my feet HARHARHAR! Wait, what are they talking about?" and Demon Lord Themmez broke out in uncontrollable laughter a minute later as the halfling had just reveiled the secret location of the much sought after Worldstone! "MUAHAHAHAHAHAAA" and he ripped the head right from the shoulders of the minor demon anyway and through it 3000 feet away right into the middle of the battlefield... Down on the battlefield the fight went back and forth, and ranks have broken down completely on both sides - not that the demons ever had any. Lord Thirror Gladius was in the middle of this and fought like a bear. His highly enchanted blueshimmering blade cut down enemies left and right and no protection seemed to be enough to keep the 'lightsaber' at bay and even those that managed to keep their distance where surprised - and dead - when they realized that he could also 'shoot' with the blade. But the fight didn't went well for the forces of Kim'kaleist and Thirror knew he had to do something. His mind reeled as he tried to find a solution and it when he looked at the Demon Lord - the Jackal by name and his head was the reason for that - that stood on top of the hill and shouted orders, he knew what he had to do! He spurred his mount forward to break through the ranks or jump over demons and bodies and those that dared to approach him, fell to his blade. The otherwordly mayor of Kim'kaleist broke through the ranks of the demons and finally reached the first ruined buildings of the once proud city of Kieth Niegalas. "JAG!!! COME DOWN AND FIGHT ME!!" he yelled and managed to get the attention of the Demon Lord "YOU COWARD! STAND BEFORE ME!" but the Jackal only laughed "Ah, are we in a fighting mood, ain't we? Perhaps I can help you with that MUAHAHAHAR BELAXIPHON!!" and the mentioning of this name let Thirror's blood freeze. *STOMP* ....... *STOMP* .............. *STOMP* ........ *STOMP* ........... *STOMP* ........ *STOMP* *SNIFF SNIFF* "MMMM, I SMELL MORTAL BLOOD! DELICIOUS" and the sight of the Behemoth diminished not only Thirror's morale. Belaxiphon was one of the most dreaded beings that roamed the World! He stood more than 120 feet high, with fur covering all his body and muscles that could pick out trees as if they were carrots. This being heralded doom and it was surely one of the main reasons why Kieth Niegalas fell. Still, too much was at stake so he focused all his energy and broke into a deadrun right into a deserted building to escape the behemoth, ran out of the backdoor and into the next house. But he always heard this *sniffsniff* and it didn't take long until Belaxiphon lifted the roof of the house where Thirror stood into. And on he ran, right through the titans legs and into the next building, the giant demon following him, and the earth shaked with every step. But he came closer to the Jackal as many called him - step by step he closed in. Thirror knew he was doomed but if he could take down Jag, that might turn the battle into his favor. And then he was only 100ft away, 80, 60, 40, a minor demon appeared out of nowhere and crashed right into Thirror, sending him to the ground. Thirror wanted to stand up but he felt a searing pain in his leg and he knew he was dead. However, he had one last shot and he aimed his blade at the Jackal but the Demon Lord just vanished in a puff of smoke. And the stomps grew louder... [Portal to Chapter 5-6 and 7-8] |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:40 AM | Chapter 5: The Siege of Kim'kaleist The War Council could just shake their heads in shock when the illusionary army vanished from the 3D map and everyone gave a prayer to those brave souls that fell this day and they all agreed to rename the place where Kieth Niegalas stood into Gladius Hill in honor of their brave mayor. But that was all the time they could spare and all began to raise the defenses of Kim'kaleist and every citizen had soon all his or her hands full to prepare for the upcoming battle. The Bridges to the other planes of existance were closed and all people living in the vicinity of the city streamed through the main gates where they were most welcomed. Every man grabbed a weapon and swore to defend his home with all he could muster while the woman prepared to take care of the wounded, support the troops, run messages, or assist in any other way possible. And on the horizon the black cloud came into view. But not only the city prepared for the upcoming battle. In a distant hilltop, four powerful beings discussed the matters at hand "We will break through the front gates in a direct assault and swarm the city." Demon Lord Lazarus said "Mmmyyy Shhaadddowwwbeaassttss wiilll ttaakkkeee theemmm ovverrr" added the Shadowlord, a being consisting of pure blackness that was hovering above the ground. "Any news from the other fronts?" - "Zak'Taredas retreated from Mesombra upon the arrival of the the Kim'kaleist Forces but our ruse was successful. Half their troops are out of the city and another fifth fell at Kieth Niegalas" the Jackal reported. "That are good news. Soon the Tree of Life will be destroyed! What do you say, Themmez? You have been silent for a while." - "I was thinking about something. Tell me brothers, have you ever heard about a location called Mount Hyreat?". The other three just looked at each other and shaked their heads "Why is this important at this point of victory?" - "It occured to me that our victory might be incomplete even if the Tree of Life is destroyed." - "What makes you think so?" - "Thheee Trrreee offf Liifffeee poowweers alll Liiffeee onn tthheee Woorrlldd" - "Yes, so it is said. But there is a second pillar that supports the World?" - "HOHOHOO, you don't mean the legend of the Worldstone? I doubt that." - "And what if I tell you that it DOES exist?" That silenced the demon lords for a second. "I will keep you informed. For now we have to focus on Kim'kaleist but I will find out where this Mount Hyreat lies and I will move my troops there." - "Agreed. This might put our goal in jeopardy to destroy the World. If the Worldstone really exists, we have to destroy it aswell." - "Then it is settled. Now, command the attack!" Excerpt from the Chronicles of Arkin Jozil: The two months since I first arrived on the foot of this mountain have been full of emotional turmoil; far more than I had anticipated. I planed to gather as much information as possible, meet with the one I'm looking for, and return home, but here I am, ready to defend the city with my life. What am I hoping for? I know Johan is right in telling me not to alter the past but wouldn't the World be so much better with magnificent Kim'kaleist surviving and having her influence spread over the planet to sow harmony - for a better future? I spent a lot of time with thinking about this. My mission is not to find Archangel Gabriel (which proved to be impossible anyway). My mission is to save the World of the future and if I will accomplish this by helping the Jewel of the World to fend off this invasion, I have succeeded. My only other hope would have been to find the Worldstone which is said to be able to save the World in times of need but no one in this time had any idea where or what Mount Hyreat was, nor do I know where Kim'kaleist stood ...is standing... so this option dies in a dead end too. I hope these note I am writing will survive the passages of time so that one day someone will find them, and know what had happened. Is this wishful thinking? Perhaps. But if Kim'kaleist survives, so does the Tree of Life within the city where Bilo Darkleaf - curse upon his name - will never be able to reach it, and all the Ancient Evils that roam the World in the Future will never be set free. Yes, this is indeed a comforting thought. - Arkin Jozil, Mystic (5.Uktar -9285 GR) The silence before the storm was the worst torture the citizen of Kim'kaleist had to endure so far. Their city was surrounded on all sides by thousands upon thousands of evil outsiders, some of them as large as a house and all of them undoubtfully powerful. However, untypical for those beings of chaos they didn't charge right into the battle but waited. "What are they waiting for? It's been two days now and none of them has moved!" - "Perhaps they want to starve us out?" - "No, we could always get food by opening one of the brigdes to the Upper Planes." - "They are waiting for something and I have a bad feeli..." BBBBBOOOOOOOOO- MMMMMMMMMM An explosion rocked the building of the Celestial Forces, cries could be heard outside, the sound of fire burning and when Arkin and the others jumped to the window they saw the cause for it! The Magic Core has exploded! The explosion has destroyed a good portion of the central city but everyone knew that this was nothing compared to the real damage that had been done when the Globe of Force that shielded the city began to flare, then vanish into nothingness. "SABOTAGE!!" Enilias shouted, but no one heard him through all the chaos and when he looked into the distance he saw the swarm of darkness had begun their charge... "FIRE EVEN NUMBERED ARROWS!!" and tenthousand arrows went into the air and over the wall, the sonic impacts could be heard from this distance and demons fell by the hundreds. This hardly slowed the masses down as they trampled over their fallen kin, saliva dripping jumping into the direction of the city that was a thorn in their eye for so long. "FIRE ODD NUMBERED ARROWS" sent the second barrage of shaft flying while the first archers were busy reenchanting their arrows. Catapults fired fiery boulders into the army of darkness and crushed not only those that were hit by the impact but also those who stood in the path as the rocks rolled on, and those that stood nearby when the rocks came to a halt and exploded! Fortunately, the mythal was still intact so the demons couldn't throw any spells on their own but since they prefered to rip the humanoids into pieces anyway, they didn't care. And it didn't take long until the first ranks reached the walls of Kim'kaleist! They flew high into the air if able to, or jumped up the fourty feet if they had no wings. Swords sliced through claws as if they were butter but unlike the demons, the soldiers couldn't take more than one hit and so many defenders fell before they could do more than one swing! It was thanks to the Arcanists that the city hadn't been overrun in this moment: they errected prismatic walls around the perimeter, leaving the demons with the option to either run through the wall - and perish in the process - or squeeze through the now few openings where no walls could be errected. This slowed the charge down but didn't prevent those flying from doing their aerial assault. Tornados took care of them. However, the demon masses seemed endless and every fiend that fell was replaced by another two. But Kim'kaleist held! Her defenses were strong and not a single fiend had succeeded in entering the city. The combined power of the Arcanists, the experienced soldiers - many of them from other planes themselves - and the unwavering morale when it comes to defend their beloved homes drove the demons back. This changed when Belaxiphon appeared on the scene! The behemoth was impervious to all magic and wasn't stopped by the tiny arrows that bounced harmlessly off his hide. A contingent of soldiers that happened to stand nearby was crushed with one two sweeping strikes as if they were nothing more than ants, and from his point of view they were indeed nothing more. Another sweep emptied a whole section on the crenelations of the walls and sent the defenders 40ft down right into the mass of fiends that tore them apart. Another punch sent a magic-reinforced tower tumbling over and came crashing down onto other buildings. While the archers continued to fire at Belaxiphon (futilely so) and the soldiers failed to pierce his hide, it bought the other fiends enough time to scale some sections of the walls and take the fight into the city. The fight seemed to tip over into the favor of the demons. But the city had its own heroes. Dusk the Adamant, valiant defender of law and order took to the sky and circled around the gozilla-like being, his whole body crackling with power and yet he continued to gather divine energies around him, until he was ready and released a full barrage of divine fire on Belaxiphon. At first, the behemoth didn't do more than scratch himself where he had been hit but when Dusk didn't stop, it began to bother him. "WHAT IS THIS, DUSK THE COWARD! WON'T YOU COME DOWN AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN?" but Dusk was above such tauntings. His eyes gleaming yellow he summoned another flame into his hands while the other one threw a twentieth bolt of of divine fire onto the behemoth. Another tiny dot on his body. High on the highest tower of the Mayor's building stood Enilias, shouting orders with his magic-enhanced voice that reached the ear of every soldier on the battlefield. He knew they were in dire straits so he looked around, until his keen elven eyes saw what they've been looking for! One of the leaders of the Demon Army, and coincidently the one whom he despiced the most: The Shadowlord! The being that was responsible for so many troubles the world had when he sowed his Shadowbeasts in humanoids. Yes, this was the chance Enilias had been waiting for for so long, and he wasn't going to let it pass by. He swung onto his pegasus and took to the sky! To Arkin, this seemed like a nightmare come true when he saw the fight raging in the streets of the magnificent city, but he made his decision to stay and fight long ago, and if this meant he would die, so be it then. White marble was red from blood, towers toppled and soldiers died but they fought on and let the fiends pay dearly for every yard of ground they gained! Arkin stood high on a bridge of the fifth layer, where he had a good view on the street level. A small fiend, similar to a quasit, persued a child that tried to ran away from the monster but it was obvious that it was more playing with the girl as it sometimes flew next to her. Rage swelled up in the halfling and he began a chant, then pointing his finger at the demon. A green bolt sped downward and hit the quasit on the head and stopped it. Arkin was just about to focus on the next opponoment when he realized that the acid didn't cause any harm to the creature. The good thing was that the girl could escape but that was only because the quasit had a new target in mind: Arkin! Dusk didn't stop to throw his energy bolts at the titan demon. And it worked! Not only grew Belaxiphon more concerned, but now a whole brigade of Lantern Archons flew over the wall and circlet above Belaxiphon's head but out of reach, releasing their light rays of divine pureness on the evil one. However, Belaxiphon had superior regenerative abilities and no wound lasted more than a few seconds until it was closed again. He took on a defensive stance and was able to dodge more than one attack which gave his regenerating abilities time to do their work. He knew Dusk's power wasn't unlimited! Enilias had little trouble keeping the flying fiends at bay or outmaneuvering them with his steed's superior speed and so he closed in on the Shadowlord's position, yard by yard, until he was mere feet away. The elven commander drew his bow and prepared to fire his devastating arrows on the blackness and made a few prayers to Amaunator, the god of the Sun, to increase his combat prowess. But if he had planned to fire from afar he had underestimated the Shadowlord when a black tentacle sped out of the black mass, reaching impossibly far up into the air and entangling his pegasus, toppling it over and forcing Enilias to dismount in midair! Arkin was surprised what speed the little demon possessed as it sped upward, showing its viscious teeth. Arkin had still some time left and he used it to rain down a barrage of ice, fire, and lightning. Nothing worked. The fiend shrugged it off as if it was snow, he even seemed to enjoy the lightning bolt that soared through its body. Remembering his acquaintance of the little fiend on the day he arrived, he realized that he was no match for the outsiders of this time. His mind worked but being under pressure wasn't very helpful, neither was looking at the fast-approaching doom that was focused on him. Enilias hit the ground softly - thanks to his falling protections - and - thanks to his training - he had even managed to keep the bow in his hand. However, pure instinct and the fact that he was now behind the enemy lines made him leap for the closest cover from where he tried to get a clear shot at this most hated enemy! Oh and how he hated this being! The Shadowlord was one of their main problems for he was something like the father of the them, the one who produces new Shadowbeasts at least once a month when it takes the Celestial Forces years just to find one, asides from the fact that they cannot be destroyed. But the blackness that was the Shadowlord was vast and Enilias knew that he had to hit the core of the creature else he won't do any harm, and so he waited until he found an opening. Some hundred feet closer to the wall, the Sien'Tigalar, an elite warrior group consisting of Hound Archons, Leonals, and even some ursine versions of celestials was spurred on by Dusk's actions and leaped over the wall and right into the throng of fiends - not that the fiends lasted long - then craved their way towards Belaxiphon. Some of them arrived wounded and some of them not at all when a sweeping strike of the behemoth erased any proof of their existance from the planet. One has to understand that this elite brigade was able to rescue people from Demon Princes in the Abyss without any losses, defended the city of Dakharta alone against a 1000 to 1 odd of orcs and ogres, and each of them was a powerful leader and worth a hundred soldiers. Their first and second rank fell at once. Just a few feet seperated Arkin from the quasit when he finally got an idea. He quickly cast a fly spell and took to the air just in time to avoid melee with the much stronger fiend. He flew upward as fast as the magic could carry him, the demon following closely below, higher and higher he flew while searching his pockets for something but his sweaty hands made it more difficult than he had hoped. Still, he could keep his distance to the quasit although he didn't increase the distance between them. Higher and higher he flew. Always upward. It occured to Enilias that he might draw too much attention to himself standing behind the enemy lines so he weaved a spell to render him invisible. He was sure that this wouldn't fool the Shadowlord but at least it protected him from the fiends. Patience was always the elven way and today, it payed off! A slight shift in the black cloud - nothing anyone else would have detected - was more than enough Force Commander Enilias needed and what followed was a masterpiece of archery: he released the string, reached into his quiver to draw three arrows, each held between two of his fingers, nocked in the first one, drew back, released, nocked in the second one by pulling the string back with one of the arrows he had between his fingers, and released, then repeated this a third time with the last shaft in his fingers. From a spectator's point of view, four arrows were up and flying in the air in such a rapid succession that they almost seemed to overtake each other. The arrows - enchanted to the roof of course - vanished in the blackness; the first one exited on the other side without slowing down but the other three hit the center and gave the Shadowlord a pain that he hadn't felt in ages. The 'Battle of Belaxiphon' was a breathtaking display and many soldiers couldn't help but stop fighting and watch this spectacle. A full brigade of Lantern Archons assisted by Dusk the Adamant hammered energy bolt upon energy bolt upon the Ancient Evil in such a rapid succession that it seemed like hail raining down on him. The Archons all the while circled around him like tiny glow-worms, releasing their continuous beams on his head, shoulders, and torso creating a web of light in the air while the valiant Sien'Tigalar dealt small but many cuts around his legs and feet. Every creature, every building, everything, would have been leveled by now but Belaxiphon still stood, and fought - dealing great damage to the troops around his feet. Even the Lantern Archons seemed to glow softer and Dusk's white energy bolts took longer to appear. It was a battle of endurance - and the defenders seemed to grow weary! Not so Enilias. Arrow after arrow was released and the elf's firerate seemed to increase even more, along with the hits he dealt to the Shadowlord. But his foe was no ordinary being; it was a being composed of pure evil and blackness, and was equipped with an astonishing speed so great that not even Enilias could defend himself when a tentacle shot outward, cut through a nerby rock as if it was made of butter and sped into the commander's direction. Enilias could dodge the blow but he made a mistake when he instinctively held up the bow to block the black natural weapon. When he looked up again his bow was cut in half. Always being the optimist he thought that at least he was in one piece. "Now you will pay, Shadowlord!" he growled through gnarred teeth as he advanced on the being, drawing his longsword in the process. "Ccooommmee annndd dddiiieeee, Foorrrcceee Cooommmaanndeerr" was the response that would've scarred every being away. Every being except Enilias. Finally, Arkin retrieved the small item from his pockets, losing some spell components in the process but that wasn't important now. He held it behind his back while he slowed down, then came to a halt and turned around to face the demon. The quasit saw its prey giving up flight and when it saw that the halfling was out of breath, it slowed down aswell to make the killing all the more entertaining. It showed his sharp teeth, it snapped with its tiny claws in the air, and it approached the exhausted halfling, laughing and mocking. Twenty feet, fithteen feet, ten feet, and just before it could pounce upon the mystic, Arkin threw the small bag he held at the quasit! And he hit. The bag burst apart, covering the fiend with a slimy green substance from top to bottom. The Quasit exploded into motion for it thought he had been hit by something dangerous but when it realized that is was just slime, it laughed all the more, and prepared to finish the halfling off. And the laugh died appruptly. At first the Quasit thought Arkin had begun to flee again but then it realized that it was falling. It tried to flap its wings but couldn't move it as the sticky substance had hardened. It hadn't even covered half the way down when it gave up and prepared for whatever afterlife a demon had. Belaxiphon crushed another trio of Leonals under his foot, and though he savored the sound of their bones and the wetness of celestial blood coming through his toes, he was hard-pressed from above. What followed next was a shining example on how strong the loyality of fiends was when Belaxiphon called for aerial assistence. Sure, a whole squadron of flying demons came to his aid but when the Kim'kaleist archers opened fire assisted by the battle mages on their high towers, they quickly changed their mind upon seeing half of their kind dropping hundreds of feet to the ground. Belaxiphon held out another minute until he began to torkle, patting one two archons away that came too close, leaning heavily to one side ...and then he fell. Unfortunately, he fell right into a section of the wall, and where siege engines failed, the body weight of the behemoth succeeded in bringing down the wall aswell as several towers that stood nearby, killing hundreds in the process. And worse: creating a second opening through which fiends and worse: Shadowbeast, could flood the streets of Kim'kaleist! Enilias' magic blade blocked a black tentacle and both held that position for a second to look at each other from eye to void. "You will never get the city!" - "Ittt isss allmoosst ouurrsss. Annddd youuu willl ssseerrvvve meee!" - "NOOO!" and with a cry of hatred Enilias' sword pushed the tentacle aside and drove the blade deep into the Shadowlord! Though he couldn't discern an anatomy, he was sure that this stab affected the being as it hissed "HOW DOES THAT FEEL LIKE? HOW DOES THAT FEEL!!!!" The answer came in form of a second black tentacle that shot out of the cloud and pierced Enilias' stomach. The two beings remained in that position for what seemed an eternity, none of the two making any moves. It was Enilias who moved first ...when he released the grip of his blade and let his arms slump down. He still stood on his feet, his eyes wide open as a smaller blackness seperated itself from the mass that was the Shadowlord, and the last thing Force Commander Enilias heard in his life was "Ittt fffeeeels gooood." The Quasit was gone and only now did Arkin realize how high he actually was. He could see the swarms of black and red that surounded the city and seemed to be endless. He saw tiny explosions outside and within the city, the magnificent city of Kim'kaleist! He had failed. History proofed that the Jewel of the World would fall and even vanish, every proof of her existance eradicated, since no one would remember her name as more than a nice legend, a faery tale of ancient times. He looked down on the city and tried to memorize as much of its magnifiance as possible - as long as she still stood, Kim'kaleist the Glorious. Something seemed odd though. Arkin couldn't grasp what it was but apparently his subconscious has seen something that he hasn't and tried tell him. He looked again, paying close attention to every detail. There was the Senate, the World Tower on the northwall, the castle of the Celestial Forces - perhaps it was the castle that seemed so familiar? - no. He followed the walls that encircled the city, then he focused on the four different districts that lay in the NE, NW, south, and centre which were divided by interior walls and distinguishable even from this height. Then he looked back at the World Tower. And then it washed over him als everything his subconscious tried to tell him flooded into his mind! The fall of Belaxiphon was only cheered for the second that it took to crash into the wall to open the second breach in the perimeter, and when the defenders witnessed the fall of their commander and the subsequent possession of a Shadowbeast, the morale of the soldiers almost broke, and would have broken indeed were it not for Dusk who quickly organized a defense to seal the latest makeshift entrance to the city. He barked commands, not wasting a single second that passed to shout orders and boost the faith of his subordinates. Many who had sunk their heads nodded as renewed determination flared up and gave them hope, and if it was just the hope to die while fighting for something worthy. And while the battle raged on in the streets, a lonely halfling landed on a brigde on the tenth layer and ran towards the great and closed double doors of the Celestial Forces headquarter. An illusion appeared. "Welcome to the Celestial Forces, trav... oh. You." - "Open the doors!!!" - "I am sorry but the Celestial Forces Headquarter is currently closed." - "ARGH!! I am not saying this again but you will now open the door and let..." - "Threats won't help you. I have orders to leave these doors closed." - "I MUST see the library!! The fate of the city depends on it!" but the cleric didn't change his mind, neither did he change his mind when Arkin began to bump and kick against the doors, nor when he came back in the disguise of Dusk, nor when he told him the faery tale that he came from the distant future to save the World. "I can't believe that this ends now because I don't get access to the library. Alright, what about that: you go into the library" - "I'm afraid I have more important things to do at the moment." - "Aren't you supposed to assist members of the Celestial Forces, are you? Guild Rules, paragr..." - "I know the rules and this is a task for the librarians, not me... *sigh* Alright, what do you want?" - "I need to decipher a sign!" Arkin cast a small cantrip and drew a shimmering triangle in the air, added a small dot above the triangle's top edge, and drew a circle around it. "Ah, that's Auld Celestial." - "What? You can read it??" - "Yes, I might be able to help you. Auld Celestial is a fascinating languages written in symbols where even a small addition could alter the meaning and..." - "Please, just tell me what it means!!!" - "Sure. The triangle stands for 'Mountain' while the circle means 'World' so it would be 'Worldmountain'. However, the small dot above the triangle is supposed to decrease the size of the mountain or even means only a part of it, like 'rock' perhaps, or 'peeble'..." - "...or 'Stone'!" Chapter 6: Ebou Dar Excerpt from the Chronicles of Arkin Jozil: Oh how I could whip myself! The Worldstone was within my grasp all the time. When I gazed down on Kim'kaleist I saw the symbol - it was all right there: the walls forming the circle, the four districts divided by the triangle wall that surrounded the central section, and the World Tower being the small dot in the north. I left at once, bound for Ebou Dar where I first saw the symbol depicted on the obelisk - the key to gaining entrance to Mount Hyreat and the Worldstone Chamber. Perhaps there is still time to save the city, time to create a better future for how much worse could the world become than the one I had left? I know, I would never be able to return to my time after what I am planning to do, but I can help to better it by laying the foundation right here and now; determination will be the light that shows me the way, and knowledge in history my weapon. Hurry Arkin Jozil, for Kim'kaleist needs your help! - Arkin Jozil, Mystic (6.Uktar -9285 GR) "Yes Arkin, hurry!" - Themmez, Demon Lord Arkin felt the icy wind against his cheeks which reminded him of the early wintermonths and on how long he was here by now. With magic enhanced speed he finally arrived in Ebou Dar, dirty and exhausted, but here he was. Since the Tribe didn't get much visitors, not to mention flying ones, Arkin's arrival was widely noticed but since they all remembered the friendly halfling, they winked and greeted him before his little feet touched the soil. "Arkin!" Hanna said in joy and flung her arms around him "Hello Hanna! It is nice to see you again." - "You look troubled despite your smile. What is it that weighs on your heart?" - "Much has happened and I will tell you in time but I must speak with your shaman." and no sooner had he spoken these words, one of the friendly tribespeople ran off to get Glorious Bear. "As long as eyes saw the moon, I prayed to the spirits of the ancients" the shaman said while Arkin walked around the obilisk to investigate the symbols, and comparing them to the ones in the book he got from the doorstop cleric in the Celestial Forces Castle. "And today is the day that I will meet their glory!" - "I wouldn't be so rash. I didn't say I am able to decipher the signs." - "Oh yes, you are the Chosen One, the One that was heralded by the Ancients to lead our to new heights." but Arkin didn't respond for he was too busy translating the ancient runes. Hanna stood faithful and interested by his side but she didn't say something in order not to interrupt him. But she didn't leave, and neither did Glorious Bear who apparently savored every moment of this history-breaking event, although he wasn't as silent as Hanna. More like the opposite. After half an hour Cresting Sun joined the trio, and asked for Arkin's progress. "I was indeed able to decipher some of the runes. It is a difficult language though and the meaning of a word can change with a little adjustment of the symbols. This here for example, the star means strength but since it is inside a square it means 'strength of mind' or 'strength of knowledge' but since the next and the previous symbol are arrows pointing at each other, it gets again a completely different meaning." - "Well, I'm not sure how this might help us? You said something about a gate that opens." - "Yes, I'm pretty sure of that. The key to open it lies in the symbols. All I need is time which is unfortunately the one ressource we don't have." - "You couldn't be more right on that!" - "I know, I know but..." Only now it occured to Arkin that neither Cresting Sun nor anyone else was listening but instead looking into one direction... The direction from where an army of fiends approached. "READY YOUR WEAPONS!! RAISE THE DEFENSES!! YOU TWO! CLOSE THE BARRIKADES!!" Cresting Sun shouted order after order and the whole tribe exploded into motion. Arkin couldn't believe his eyes! More than three hundred demons charged the settlement of Ebou Dar! Why in all the world should they show up here and now!? He hadn't time to think about that as the first demons came crashing into the barrikades that surely wouldn't succeed where Kim'kaleist's walls failed, and the defenders fell the second they got into melee and the ones standing behind them didn't last longer. Glorious Bear began a dance while he raised his warped staff up in the air and waved mystical patterns with it. Some of the surrounding warrior began to grow some fur, some inches in height, and became overall more feral. These buffed fighters grabbed their clubs and leaped at once to the front where they put on a tough fight. Neither of them could take out a fiend, not even the combined might of them but at least they slowed the charge down to a halt and bought their shaman valuable time which he wisely used to boost more of his tribespeople. Cresting Sun didn't need such magic for like every tribe leader before her she was blessed by the spirit of the ancients which gave her a supernatural strength, speed, and endurance, and infact she as soon as she entered, the first of the attackers met their doom. From a single hit. Arkin began to chant aswell but he knew his magic wouldn't be of any help against the enhanced fiends of this time so he used his spells to boost the warriors of Ebou Dar. Here, one of them began to blur while another one became invisible, and the next one's skin toughened. On and on he sang until he was out of protection spells and even then he used the remaining ones to cure those that miraculously survived a demon attack so that they could return to the front. Even Hanna wasn't idle as she used a sling to hurl sharpened stones at the attackers. Of course, many of the outsiders didn't even notice the peebles that bounced of their scales. Arkin - out of spells now - could do nothing but witness as warrior after warrior was litterally torn apart in mid-air, their body parts were hurled back at the defenders to show them what would inevitably befall them within the next minutes. Only the section where Cresting Sun stood was secure and also the only part where the flying body parts belonged to the fiends. The mystic put his hand on his dagger, a nonmagical one but at least it was of masterwork quality, just to die fighting but then he knew that this would be as futile as staying right where he was. Unless, yes, perhaps the obelisk might help. If he could only decipher the meaning of the symbols, at least this was the only chance left. The commander of the army stood at the back of the lines and watched the spectacle with amusement. Demon Lord Themmez had seen a thousand battles but nothing delighted him more than seeing humans looking into their doom, the expression in their eyes when they realized that they were as good as dead. However, something bothered him, the warriors seemed to be spurred on and beyond comprehension so he quickly analyzed the situation and decided that the leader was the reason for their unwavering morale. And so Themmez took to the sky and slowly approached the barricades. One might think that there was no order among the demons but surprisingly there existed something like a hierarchy but this was based more on strength than anything else. And so it occured to one of the 'subcommanders' that the halfling standing infront of the black obelisk and reading some runes on it might be the most troublesome, for there was surely no scientific interest in the heat of a battle raging around him. So the subcommander - a Pitlord called Hell-Cat - ordered one of its minions to stop the little one in his research. The minion was a Kamikaze-Demon called Bonesnapper who just stood there and did nothing. Hell-Cat asked him again to device a tactic to stop the halfling before he might come up with something - too much was at risk - but again, Bonesnapper didn't comply. After a third - more determined asking - Bonesnapper began to walk around, not necessarily in the direction of the battlefield, and gathered rock. Yes, rocks. Hell-Cat just watched this in disbelief as Bonesnapper returned with four 50 pound rocks which he meant to throw on the halfling and declared in a lengthly explanation that this would kill him for sure. Demon Lord Themmez flew over the defenders, releasing a breath of fire once in a while just because he so liked the smell of charred flesh, but he was quickly taken back to the seriousness of the battle when a throwing axe past his horned head by a hair's breadth! "COME DOWN FOUL CREATURE!" Cresting Sun shouted "I CHALLENGE THEE!" and she emphasized her point by throwing a javelin in his direction, but Themmez just batted it absentmindly away. "Very well Chaieftain. I was one my way to you anyway" Hell-Cat had his doubts. The subcommander told Bonesnapper that it might not be enough to just drop the boulders and that he should come up with an additional tactic, a plan B at least in case something wouldn't work! But Bonesnapper - self-confident that his plan was unfailable - sticked to his rocks. Not wanting to waste any additional time, the pitlord pounced upon someone else and forgot about that. Bonesnapper meanwhile prepared the rocks. He laid them around his position, polished them, a flamejet here, another correction there, of course he had all the time in the world for there was no way the halfling could escape his doom! Arkin had no idea about the devilish plan of Bonesnapper, he didn't even see them, nor would he care. His mind was solely focused on the obelisk and the symbols on it. It didn't make any sense. He knew the activation sequence now, of course he used it at once, but no portal opened. He looked around, he circled the obelisk, checked the symbols again, compared them with the ones in his book, he had done everything correct, except the two arrows that pointed at each other and that didn't appear in his dictionary. Valuable seconds passed but then Arkin thought again about something that his friend Ebelin once told him "Sometimes you won't see the forest because of the trees." he said under his breath, looked at the arrows who now appeared as just that: pointers that pointed at the square and star symbol that lay between them and as his hand reached out to touch the rune, the hand vanished within the obelisk. He quickly drew it back and was relieved that it was possible. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the dying humans around him, hearing their screams of agony, and with a single step he disappeared completely within the black obelisk. "I will feast upon the survivors of your tribe" Themmez taunted while he past behind some cottages and out of sight and throwing range of Cresting Sun who always adjusted her position to get a clear shot at the Demon Lord but every time he was in line of fire, the fiend just vanished behind another obstacle and made the Chieftain adjust position again. "And I will rip you apart, limb by limb and you will witness the slow construction of my new Bonethrone that will grow with each piece you miss." Cresting Sun got frustrated about this cat and mouse game that she forgot about one important thing: Themmez used this diversion to gain a height advantage and when Cresting Sun finally rounded a corner, Themmez was already halfway charging towards her! He found himself in a dark and murky place, a vast nothingness. It wasn't the case that is was too dark to see, but the fact that there was nothing to see. "Hello? Is someone here?" Nothing. Just nothing. Arkin stumbled around a bit, calling out to no one in particular, his calls growing louder until they culminated in a frustrated cry of rage to the top of his lungs. He cried about the many obstacles that he had met so far, he cried for the many brave warriors that fell today, he cried about his mission that was again about to fail. But no one heard him. Nor was there an exit in sight. Cresting Sun was no ordinary human. She was blessed with superior speed and reflexes so she was able to throw the spear she was holding at the Demon Lord, and even managed to get off an attack with her fist. Both missed though. And then Themmez crashed into her. The fiend threw his whole weight into this dive which was more than enough to topple a giant but the chieftains martial arts training payed off as Cresting Sun didn't try to block the impact but flow with it. That was something Themmez didn't expect and he found himself thrown offbalance when Crest executed a backward roll and sending the demon flying over her. Of course, the supernatural being landed on its feet, and even took the time to stretch a muscle, while Cresting Sun came up again in the same fluid motion and had her warhammer in hand before she was fully back on her feet again. Arkin tried a different approach and adressed the Spirits of the Ancients, hoping he had payed enough attention to the rambling the shaman did when he annoyed Arkin during his researhc! And no sooner had he called their names, white misty shapes appeared out of nowhere and surrounded him. "Who is it ...that summons ...the Ancients?" three of the many spirits asked whereby each of them said only two words before the next one took over. "I am Arkin Jozil and I need to find the entrance to the World Stone Chamber!" - "The Gate will only ....open to those who ....possess the wisdom .....necessary to understand ....and wield ....the power of the ....World Stone!" - "What do I have to do?" - "You have to ...pass the test. If you succeed ...you will be ...granted entrance. But if you ...fail ...you will never leave ...this place and ...spend eternity here." and without hesitation, Arkin replied: "I am ready!" The warhammer came down fast and hard. It was a powerful blow that would have smashed one of those 50 lb rocks Bonesnapper was still polishing but the otherworldly resiliency, and that of a Demon Lord at that, shrugged the worst off. It was still a tremendous blow and it didn't go unnoticed - a magnificent feat indeed against one of the Underworld's leaders. Of course, to Themmez, this was still nothing more than a game and if the hit accomplished anything, then that he was even more excited that his prey won't die at the first hit. One as if he wanted to test his theory, he leaped upon Cresting Sun, batting the returning warhammer away, and drew two deep gashes across her stomach. So sharp were his claws that the flesh gave away willingly and some of Cresting's entrails saw the evening twilight for the first time. A blue glowing pattern appeared in the void, obviously the work of the Ancients. It was some kind of maze, with many different paths, and once in a while a special symbol marked a point on the three-dimensional map that floated in midair. The lower half was very detailed and appeared to be crowded with all kinds of runes and symbols. The upper half was empty. No paths and no maze was in this northern semicircle. "This is a record ...of the life of ...Arkin Jozil and the paths ...he has chosen. It is only half finished ...but more will be added ...with each passing day, depending on the choices ...Arkin Jozil will make, ...or will be forced ...to make." - "That...that is amazing, I mean, I haven't had any idea that something like that exists!" - "Now you know" and the instant the spirits had spoken the word, Arkin knew. Suddenly, he perfectly understood the pattern, the maze, the various symbols and their meaning. There was the day when he had left his home to join the Mysticars, he vividly remembered that day when his mother tried to convince him to stay at home and become a teacher. And there was the day when he had become a member of the Celestial Forces, an organization normally only available to those of Celestial Blood! And many more! Everything was right there and Arkin recognized every moment. "So what do I have to do now?" - "You have to ...finish the circle. You can now ...draw the lines and ...determine the direction ...the life of Arkin Jozil ...will take." - "What?" - "If you want to ...become famous and wealthy ...you can set a marker ...at any time ...anywhere. If you want ...to find true love ...you can now make it happen ...and determine the when. If you want ...to become the mightiest mage...you will become the mightiest mage." Arkin's mind worked like never before. Of course, he wasn't the type of person who was interested in personal gain ...or was he? If he would be more powerful, he might help fighting evil more effectively. How many lives could he save? So many possiblities crossed his mind but he had no time for with every passing second, the valiant people of Ebou Dar were dying. And then, Arkin Jozil made his decision. Demon Lord Themmez became more and more amused as he dodged blow after blow while he watched how the female chieftain tried to ignore the pain in her abdomen. Ah, he hadn't felt such pleasure in a while and he wished this game could go on forever. But then he overheard an interesting conversation, his mind traveled to a far away place via the connection the bug demon had made two months ago - a valuable source for information that little one. A blow that was reflected of his scales reminded him that he was still in the middle of a battle, so he focused on the task ahead which was shredding Cresting Sun to pieces. His claws came forward with lightning-fast speed and tore out a part of Crest's throat aswell as another deep gash across the stomach, widening the opening even further. But just as he wanted to walk off, a hand grabbed him, Crest's hand, and unmistakenly told him that she wasn't ready to give up. "Finished." Arkin said to the Ancients and looked at the maze that was his life. "Finished? Are you sure?" - "I am sure." the halfling said. "But you did not ...draw a single line ...nor did you set ...a single marker." - "These decisions will be made when the day comes. I might make mistakes on my way but I will learn from them and I will grow stronger. We are not meant to alter the course of life in that way." The Ancients were silent for a long moment, and then they all replied in unison "You choice was ...wise." and Arkin finally released the breath he held for more than a minute now. "The Entrance ...to the World Chamber ...lies on top of Mount Hyreat. There is a lone tree ...which will lead you ...to the Inner Halls ...when you speak aloud the word ...that is the most important thing ...for this world ...to survive." - "Balance." - "Correct." - "Before I go, I want to ask you to help me in defending the tribe of Ebou Dar, the tribe that venerates you for so long now. They deserve no less." - "Granted.... Arkin Jozil will be imbue ...with the power of the Ancients... for a short time ... - "Thank you. I have to go now." - "Remember that the ...entrance works ...only once a millenium." and with a confirmative nod, Arkin left the void. Demon Lord Themmez couldn't believe his ears what he just heard! Not only did he now knew the location of the World Stone Chamber but he had also the password to gain entrance. Not wanting to waste any more time he flew off, or tried to for a firm grasp held him groundbound. "What the hell are you doing!?" he said to half-dead Cresting Sun through gnarled teeth, now obviously completely tired of this fight "You are DEAD!!!" he stated and with a mighty tug, he ripped the chieftains head from her shoulders. Not paying the human a second thought he took to the sky, upward, always upward. Bonesnapper was still working on his rocks from where he had meanwhile carved four beautiful statues of faeries; a pity the demon didn't persue another profession. But then he saw the halfling finally coming out of the obelisk again. He almost regretted it when he looked again at his work but then, the halfling began to transform, he grew bigger and bigger, skin was replaced by blue scales which turned grey and hardened to stone, his power increased by the second and Bonesnapper could only shake his head in disbelief. He quickly ran the numbers and realized that 95 damage on average wasn't enough to kill the 140 hp huge halfling, and that wasn't even before the stony skin came into play to cut the damage in half! But Bonesnapper was a Kamikaze-Demon, and one without a plan B on top of that, so he executed the 100% auto-kill maneuver, teleported himself and the four rocks 150ft high into the air and fell all the way down onto the monster-halfling [Brackin: falling damage (15d6) = 53 to himself][Damage to Arkin: Four 50lb Rocks (4x 3d6-10(DR)) = 0; Brackin's weight [101-200 lb] (7d6-10(DR)) = 15][Brackin: fortitude vs death (18+14) = 32 vs Dc15, success]. And an auto-kill maneuver it was indeed. The power the Ancients had granted him almost overwhelmed Arkin. He had never felt such might which was concentrated and even now swelling up in his body. Everyone seemed to be small and weak, at least the humans did, while he had still a healthy respect for the demons who clawed their way through the ranks of mortals and slaughtered them by the second. But before he could wonder about his latest surge of power something hit him on the back. It weren't the feeble rocks that bounced harmlessly off his hide without doing any damage but the body that followed them with whooping 15 damage altogether. Not so Bonesnapper who lay bleeding on the ground but such was the fate of Kamikaze-Demons. For Arkin, this fool was the first test of his new melee skills as he stepped onto the fiends legs, crushing them to mud, then ripping the upper torso off from the rest and swallowing him whole. A pity these kind of fiends'll never learn, Hell-Cat thought. [Portal to Chapter 1-4 and 7-8] |
| Scribelords08-24-05, 07:56 AM | Arkin joined the ranks of the defenders and replaced Cresting Sun in holding a complete section alone against a throng of demons, and he dealt them massive damage but he suffered no less. The fight lasted many minutes already and his strength was already turning back to normal, his size diminished, and the next blow of a fiend send him flying back towards the center of the tribe where he was a halfling again, exhausted and broken. From the more than four hundred tribesmen, only a fifth remained while the demons outnumbered them now three to one. But they fought on! Glorious Bear was apparently in command now which didn't leave any doubts about Cresting Sun's fate, and the shaman organized a small defense perimeter around the obelisk. That stopped the demons and the fight came to a complete halt. The reason for this wasn't the superior defensive stance of the tribesmen - it was a simple circle that would've been breached in seconds - but the fact that the demons wanted to savor every ounce of fear the humans radiated when they were surrounded by masses of powerful demons. Arkin worked his way back to his feet (a tribesman assisted him) and took his place right next to Hanna where both joined hands while smiling at each other. He knew this was the end but he won't go down without a fight! The fiends circled around the humans, some of them feinting a leap only to glee with excitement when the humans exploded into motion to stop the fiend and realized it was only a mocking ruse. Arkin recognized some of the demon types; there were Quasits and Vrocks that build the Luftwaffe, Babaus and similar shocktroops formed the front lines but there were also a number of towering Glabrezus and Nalfeshnees, along with the occosional Balor. He knew, not even in his time had he the power to survive a one on one fight with most of them but here and now, and outnumbered on top of that... there was no way of even slaying one of them. And then, the sounding of a trumpet announced the attack. Arkin's muscles tensed while he prepared to meet his creator but... wait a second. A trumpet? He looked around but none of the demons had such an instrument in hand but when he followed the gaze of the fiends - which was directed to the sky - he saw the musician: a silverskinned Solar, full ten feet tall blew into the mighty trumpet that seemed to reach the ears of everyone on the world, while his other hand held a brilliant glowing sword in his grasp. The solar wasn't what troubled the demons. It were the five dozen that followed him! Winged beings of magnificent beauty approached with a speed and grace that stunned the onlooker, their silver and golden skins paired with the feathered wings made one regret every evil deed one had done in all his life and some of the humans fell indeed to their knees. Some of the Solars wore bows, others had their swords in hand or dancing infront of them, and some of them were armed with their spells and inate abilities. And there was an order to them, a wedge formation that was exactly held to the inch, and showed the discipline of the overpowering angels. But as magnificent as the solars were, they all paled against their leader! Flying before them was a being that radiated an aura of power that could be felt even from this distance and those that weren't on their knees were forced to do so now - even some of the demons! Instead of feathered wings, it had light threads that danced in all directions and where the angels had beautiful faces and white-glowing eyes, only a blackness greeted the viewer, that seemed to be endless within the thick white hooded robe, and from the description of ancient tomes Arkin knew at once whom he faced. The 1st Choir had arrived. The demons exploded into motion and many fell over each other in order to either escape or get into a better defensive position though none of the two options were realistic. The Solars pounced into their ranks as if a heavy cavalary would charge into a goblin brigade, with the difference that the demons died even quicker. Glowing swords were swung in such practised strikes that every time the weapon turned a fiend fell, no matter if they stood behind an angel, infront of them, or above them. Some of them released the grip on their weapons without the weapon itself stopping the deadly strikes and the solar now pointing fingers at the more powerful fiends - which made them explode where they stood. And if the outcome of the battle wasn't clear enough by now, that doubt vanished when Archangel Gabriel joined the fray. No fiend could touch this being for they withered and turned to ashes the moment they came into melee range as if a blightlord would walk through a field of flowers - evil flowers. One of the Balor commanders barked orders to focus the attack on Gabriel while he himself directed his magic at the archangel. And the radiant form rushed past him. And he was dead. At least his orders had been heard as dozens of the more powerful fiends organized a concentrated attack on Gabriel. Demons leaped and demons fell, and more demons tried to rush in. They fell, too. And all the while the people of Ebou Dar didn't stand idly by, especially not since some of the demons tried to gain at least a bit of glory by shredding humanflesh. The defensive circle has long been given up and the eighty or so remaining tribespeople fought on every corner. They didn't cause much harm to the demons but they didn't suffer any losses either with the fiends occupied with a superior foe. The ranks of the demons melted like snow in the desert sun and within the next minute, there was no evil outsider left. Arkin's heart made a leap of joy. And that was when Glorious Bear fell. The shaman wasn't killed by demonclaws, nor by was he torn apart by hellish magic, no, he was beheaded when one of the solars rushed past him. "What?" At first, Arkin didn't realize it but then his mind grasped it: the angels slaughtered the people of Ebou Dar! Some of them used their swords to kill them, others shot arrows faster than Enilias ever dreamt but most of them used words of power that killed the people by the dozens at a time. "HHHEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAI!!" and another group of humans died on the spot where the Powerword was spoken. Arkin ran around, having no idea what was going on, how resignation and hope could be so close! He took Hanna by the hand and pulled her away, trying to escape this madness, trying to save her at least. An arrow pierced her heart. "NNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Arkin fell down to his knees and sobbed at the fallen form of his friend, this lovely girl who had helped him so much, and he could do nothing but witness as her breathing came in faster and faster, and then stopped forever. He cried like he hadn't in a long time. But then he saw a movement. Hanna's body buldged and twisted, and before Arkin could realize what happened, a black shadowy form exited the corpse and hovered less than a feet infront of Arkin's nose. He stumbled backward and tried to escape the Shadowbeast but the blackness had the same in mind, although it didn't get far when a solar cleaved it in half, then sucked the beast into a strange device. Arkin looked around and almost died of the shock that he got when he saw Shadowbeast rising from the dead bodies, while the few living ones where still slaughtered. A tribeman ran past him, a look of terror on his face as he grabbed Arkin by his shirt in mad plead for help. His head came off and gave view to the radiant being that just killed him and now hovered infront of Arkin, completing a full spin and bringing its brilliant sword around at halfling-head-level. But the blade stopped an inch before it connected with Arkin's head. The blackness within the Archangel's hood gazed down on the mystic, sword still in the same position, and Arkin found himself unable to avert his gaze, or close his mouth, or do something. The being remained in that position for another second, then reached into Arkin's stomach as if the hand would be incorporal, and retrieved a small bug which he crushed in his hands, and with the grace of the heavens Gabriel withdrew his sword from the halfling's neck and flew off, into the sky - the solars following him. And Arkin stood alone on a battlefield littered with corpses. Chapter 7: Broken Dreams Demon Lord Themmez was close. He could feel it! After he entered Mount Hyreat through the lone tree, he had encountered minor resistance on his way through the Outer Halls - minor resistance from a Demon Lord's point of view - and was now at the end of the Inner Halls and standing infront of ancient doors that were the last obstacle on his way to the Worldstone. The double doors were made of obtronium, and many runes covered their surface, some of them even deadly to immortals. Themmez savored this moment and then he drew in his breath and said the answer to the question written on the door "Balance!". And the doors opened. The Chamber that came into view was of collosal size, or even larger, Themmez couldn't say for not even his superior otherworldly view could see the top of the chamber, or the bottom for that matter and he wouldn't be surprised to learn that the chasm lead all the way down to the base of the mountain, and beyond. A 30ft wide pillar rose in the center from out of the darkness of the deepth up towards the level he stood where a stonebridge connected the entrance to the pillar. On the huge pillar was a small podest on which his goal floated in midair: the Worldstone! It seemed so simple an item; so small, and so full of energy! Its eery yellowish glow, its aura of power, its promise to rule the entire world, or destroy it, assaulted Themmez and while he made his way over the bridge he made plans on what he would do first. It is always a difficult decision when the options are limitless and the Demon Lord widened his eyes with excitement as he closed in on the powersource of the World. "HARHARHARHARRRR I will destroy the world and rule over what will be left when I am finished! The other Demon Lords will bow to me and my name will invoke fear and terror where it is spoken! MWHAAARRRARARAR I HAVE SUCEEDED!!" and he began to increase his pace to shorten the time until he could lay his hands on the stone. Little he knew that this wasn't going to be so easy when a second glow appeared, this one blinding white "STOP CREATURE OF DARKNESS CREATURE OF DARKNESS THE RELIC CONTAINED HEREIN IS NOT MEANT CONTAINED HEREIN IS NOT MEANT TO BE WIELDED BY THE LIKES OF YOU BY THE LIKES OF YOU!" he heard from out of the bright radiance and when his eyes adjusted to the intense light he saw a form slowly descending from the non-existing ceiling and hovering an inch above the bridge to block the way. "Ixenthor!" Themmez drew his demonblade but before he had it in his hand he was disarmed by one of the light threads that were the Archangel's wings, and the sword vanished in the endless darkness of the chasm. Not willing to give up when victory was so close at hand he ran forward and tried to bullrush Ixenthor; he knew he couldn't push the flying being over the edge but perhaps he might be able to get his hands on the Worldstone before the defender recovered. Corona stopped him short. A deep cut pierced his demonflesh, and Ixenthor was again taking aim for the next strike while his left hand was wrapped around Themmez throat. Again and again the flaming sword of the archangel came down on Themmez who knew that he had to do something or perish. He was covered with a dozen wounds - wounds dealt by an archangel! - and this was even for a Lord of the Abyss too much. Themmez tried several maneuvers, counterattacks, blocks, but nothing worked against this valiant defender until the Demon Lord was left with one last trick: he tried to twist out of the celestials relentless grasp, without success but he hadn't counted on that anyway. Instead, he managed to shift their positions a bit to the side which gave Themmez a line of effect towards the podest. He pointed a clawed finger at the Worldstone and released a blast of force on it! The relic was of course impervious to such feeble magic but it was sent flying backward and already beginning its long descend to the bottom of the chasm - if there was any at all - where it would surely be irretrivably lost! Archangel Ixenthor discarded the Demon Lord without a second thought and dived after the Worldstone. Themmez however, bruised and battered, used this time wisely to escape the chamber. Emotions coursed through Arkin's body, the worst ones he had ever had. All of Ebou Dar's people were dead, killed by demons and angels alike! He had held Hanna's hand when she died, Hanna, this lovely woman that always lifted his spirit with a simple smile. He had witnessed how the Shadowbeast exited her body, aswell as others. When he had finally found the strength to stand up and leave this field of the dead he began the difficult ascend of Mount Hyreat for he ran long out of spells. He didn't rest, he didn't stop, he didn't even take a moment's breath but climbed and climbed and climbed, and everytime his body was about to collapse from exhaustion he forced images of Hanna, of the tribespeople, of Kim'kaleist, and of his friends into his mind which spurred him on. It took him 27 hours but finally he had reached the lone tree - the entrance to the World Stone Chamber, and he found cold comfort in the fact that he had eventually reached his goal. Oh and how his spirit fell when the entrance didn't work! Arkin tried and tried and tried but no gate opened, nothing happened, but he tried on until he finally collapsed and fell into a long deep slumber. He didn't know how long he had been laying up there on Mount Hyreat but that was one week ago. Since then, he had gathered some strength on his way back to Kim'kaleist. Although he was only a shadow of his former self. His shoulders hang limbly by his side as he flew over the desolate regions; his gaze fixed to no specific point in space, and an expression of shock and sadness on his face. He has lost everything, and now his only goal was to return to Kim'kaleist and die in the defense of the city. But when he arrived, there was no city anymore. Colums of smoke rose in the air where once magnificent towers stood, the fires long gone. Needless to say that this didn't improve his spirit when he landed on the ground outside the city and walked through the thousands of bodies that lay scattered everywhere. A carpet of dead demons covered the soil infront of the walls which had been breached in more than two sections. He could see the dead soldiers, bold defenders that died for the glory of their city! A heavy silence hang in the air as Arkin walked through the once white marble streets where just a few weeks ago so much life crowded. He saw bodies and bodies and bodies, everywhere. Everything was dead. Not even a bird could be seen. Arkin flew upward towards what was once the tenth layer of the city. The double doors of the Celestial Forces Castle were bent aside in an unnatural angle and Arkin didn't waste any time to speed through the Gate and the Halls of the Headquarter until he finally reached his destination: the garden ...with the destroyed Tree of Life! Arkin slumbed down. It was too much, it was just too much for his soul to bear. And worse yet, he was now completely out of options. He couldn't get access to the Worldstone Chamber for some unknown reasons, most likely because someone had entered it before him. Kimkaleist has been destrozed; he was sitting right now within the ashes of the once glorious city. Even then, he could have remained in Ebou Dar, remained with Hanna, but everyone of them was dead aswell. And finding Gabriel is as good as impossible. There was no way to accomplish anything now ...unless A thought crossed Arkin's mind. Though he didn't want to give in to this new hope for fear of getting a cold shower again, he tried to logically assemble the pieces and what he knew about the distant past and what had happened. When the Tree of Life had been destroyed by Bilo in the present, everyone had felt the wave of sorrow that washed over the world. However, Arkin hadn't felt it here but he should have for he was even now leaning against the burned remains of the Tree! There were three options now: either Dusk had lied to him and this wasn't the Tree of Life (which Arkin discarded as nonsense right away), or he hadn't felt the wave of sorrow because he didn't belong to that time - a daring theory indeed. Or... "someone had planted a new Tree of Life!!" Arkin jumped up at once and ran out of the building. This seemed indeed the most logical way of events but normally and to every other being on the world this information would have been completely futile since no one would know the location of the new Tree of Life; it could be litterally everywhere. However, Arkin had the bonus of knowledge in history so he knew exactly where he had to look for! Chapter 8: the High Forest Arkin was lucky this day when he found some teleport scrolls in one of the destroyed wizard guilds of Kim'kaleist. He didn't hesitate to use them and since he had been at the destination spot several times before, he arrived savely within a few yards of what would once become the home to the Druid's Enclave. The High Forest was much more savage in this time, more like a jungle and though he wasn't a skilled tracker, some of the bigger imprints on the ground seemed to belong to dinosaurs. He saw a light in the distance and set out at once until he came at a very familiar clearing. It was a bit smaller than he remembered it but it was the same clearing where the burned Tree of Life stood only that here the Tree of Life was at full health! "SO YOU FINALLY CAME" said the being in the thick white robe that had planted the tree. "How could you know this?" - "I HAVE SEEN IT IN YOUR EYES. VENGEANCE IS A MIGHTY COMPANION" - "You think I am here to exact vengeance on you?" but as Arkin spoke the words he wasn't sure if this wasn't indeed the case - of course, completely beyond Arkin's abilities, or any other being for that matter. Archangel Gabriel didn't reply but looked at the Tree of Life. "So tell me, how does it feel to slaughter innocents?" - "IT WAS NECESSARY" - "For what? To kill the Shadowbeasts? How much better off are they now that they are dead!" - "THEIR SOULS ARE FREE NOW AS ARE THE SOULS OF THOSE NOT YET BORN" - "That is an easy way to justify it, isn't it? Oh, you will surely tell me now that it wasn't easy and that everything will be alright but that doesn't change the deed!" - "WHY DID YOU COME" Arkin licked his lips after this sudden change of topic "I know that you have found a way to destroy the Shadowbeasts! I need to know the Ritual!" - "WHY IS THAT" - "Because I have to save my people!" - "YOU SEEK SALVATION FROM THE RITUAL AND QUESTION IT AT THE SAME TIME. YOU WILL NOT FIND WHAT YOU SEEK." - "But I must..." - "YOU ARE NOT READY TO PERFORM IT AND MOST LIKELY NEVER WILL" - "You're wrong! I have seen what demons have done to Kim'kaleist! I WILL NOT let this happen to my home so why the hell are you telling me I am not ready!?" At first, Gabriel didn't answer. He pointed at a point in space a opened a rift in the fabric of space, then he turned to Arkin again "THE CITY YOU HAVE MENTIONED HAS DEFEATED THE ARMY OF DARKNESS" At first Arkin didn't understand what Gabriel meant for how could Kim'kaleist have succeeded when he had seen the complete destruction with his own eyes so he just knitted his brow while the archangel walked towards the rift but then, realization washed over him and drained every bit of strength from his body "W..w..WHAT!?!?! YOU DID THAT!?" As Archangel Gabriel neared the rift, his wings began to pale and became more transluctent while his white robe darkened; at first only some black dots appeared but they quickly grew in size, and before the celestial had taken another four steps, his robe was now as black as the blackest night and the light wings were gone... "WHAT!? YOU???" And Arkin's following scream was the loudest the High Forest would ever hear! The Cast in the Present: Arkin Jozil, Mystic of the Celestial Forces Jaguaro, Bearer of the Tree of Life sapling Johan Talyana, Master of the Planes Siddig Aurian, Librarian of the Celestial Forces The Cast in the Past: Arkin Jozil, Mystic of the Celestial Forces Cresting Sun, Tribe Chieftain of Ebou Dar Glorious Bear, Shaman of Ebou Dar Hanna, Medic of Ebou Dar Thirror Gladius, Mayor of Kim'Kaleist Enilias Surion, Force Commander of Kim'kaleist Dusk of Bahamut, Ambassador of the Celestial Forces Aasimar Cleric, Receptionist of the Celestial Forces Demon Lord Themmez, Commander of the 5th Doom Belaxiphon, Ancient Evil Behemoth The Shadowlord, Creator of the Shadowbeasts Demon Lord Lazarus, Commander of the 3rd Doom Bonesnapper, Kamikaze Demon The Ancients, Spirits of past shamans Archangel Gabriel, Commander of the 1st Choir Archangel Ixenthor, Guardian of the World Stone and special guest star appearance: Hell-Cat as 'The Pitlord' Epilogue: "W..w..WHAT!?!?! YOU DID THAT!?" As Archangel Gabriel neared the rift, his wings began to pale and became more transluctent while his white robe darkened; at first only some black dots appeared but they quickly grew in size, and before the celestial had taken another four steps, his robe was now as black as the blackest night and the light wings were gone... "WHAT!? YOU???" "HAAAAR-VEEEEST-EEEEEER!!!" Gabriel was just a foot away from the rift as he halted and stood there for a second, then, without turning around he said "A FITTING NAME" At the base of Mount Hyreat, a broken and battered form made its way down the mountain, climbing since its wings were broken. The way back through the Halls of the mountain was much more difficult since Demon Lord Themmez was in no shape to fight a battle, so he hid and waited, room by room. Sometimes it took him days until he could proceed but he had made it out and this was all that mattered now. His wounds would heal, although it might take a long time for they were dealt by an archangel. He was still in the worst mood possible. The Armies of Darkness lost at Kim'kaleist, his own troops destroyed, the World Stone still out of his grasp, and he was severly wounded to the point that he might be lucky if he will regenerate at all and he was stranded in this region where he would be forced to spend a long time until he had his strength back. It couldn't have gone worse for him. Lost in his thoughts, Themmez almost didn't see the movement in the distance. He threw himself behind a big rock, then risked a look. "What? The halfling again?" and Themmez relaxed. Still, he was curious what the feeble mortal was doing here in this desolate region so he sneaked forward and closer to get a better look at him. The halfling drew a small strange looking device out of his robe and operated it, then waved it into the air where a second later a big portal appeared. The little one didn't hesitate and walked right through. Themmez grew even more curious now for this surely wasn't what he expected so he limbed forward until he stood infront of the portal. "Well, well, well, whereever this portal leads, it is surely better than here" The Gallery http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Charaktere/NPC/Themmez.jpg - Demon Lord Themmez at the Battle of Kieth Niegalas http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Sonstige/KimKaleist.jpg - The legendary city of Kim'kaleist http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Charaktere/Ixenthor/Ixenthor-grab1.jpg - Archangel Ixenthor and Demon Lord Themmez fight http://www.caterane.de/CoCo/Charaktere/Ixenthor/Ixenthor2.jpg - Archangel Gabriel [Portal to Chapter 1-4 and 5-6] |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 07:33 PM | Cast: Brock = orange Jo'Li = green Rhoar = brown Angosh = red "AAARGHH!! IT IN HEAD!!" - "STAY DOWN YOU FOOL!!" - "AAARGHH!!" - "What is it? WHAT IS IT?" - "VOICE! THE VOICE!! CAN'T YOU HEAR!!" - "We have to make him shut up, or all creatures in this dungeon will be upon us in no time!" - "But what?" - "I DON'T KNOW! JUST DO SOMETHING!!" - "AAARGHHH!!" - "THEM MONSTERS RETURN! READY YER WEAPONS!!" They were as special as an adventuring band can be. The Deepstone Squad, as they called themselves, wasn't one of the most famous ones, for they didn't rescue princesses nor did they save villages from marauding dragons, no, they were together for their own benefit, to increase their strength and wealth, ...and perhaps because no other adventuring company would travel with any one of them. There was Brock - a deep dwarf and the leader of the gang, officially at least. He wasn't the toughest one of them, nor the strongest, wisest, most intelligent or charismatic one, but at least he was a bit of everything; that and the fact that no one else cared made him the number one in the group. Two other duergars, Jo'Li and Angosh, were the next in order. Most of the time they made mean faces with their sleeping hours being the exception to that. Their unusual abilities and professions made them a good addition to the Company, and a rare one at that for there weren't many assassins or druids among the dwarfs of the deep. And finally there was Rhoar, as dumb as Angosh was beautiful but with a physical power that rivaled the gods, so the few gossips spun around them tell. It was on one of these rare moments when they actually entered a surface settlement, but what harm can a 100 souls hamlet consisting of feeble peasants do to them. The first thing they did was what every adventuring band would have done and so they found themselves in the "Thirsty Dragon Tavern", and this is where the story begins... Chapter 1: The Thirsty Dragon "What do them damn humans know 'bout dragons. Shoulda teach 'em somethin' bout 'em." Angosh said with a mouthful of munched chicken. "Nah. Let them be. We have more important business to do, and I want to have an easy sleep this night." Brock replied but it was more to Brock's grip than his words that kept Angosh from standing up "*growl* Bah! Them wouldn't understand it anyway. EH! YOU! ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME!?" he shouted to a peasant that sat on the next table who was too terrified to do anything other than averting his gaze. After another reminder from Brock, Angosh let it be and only threw the chickenleg at his head. Meanwhile, Rhoar - unbelievably the most charismatic one in the group - tried his luck with one of the barmaids. The long time he spent with the rest of the pack had created some illusions in his mind that he was the most attractive person around (and considering the enviroment he normally used to travel he was right on that) and so he couldn't believe - or accept - the fact that the young barmaid wasn't especially drawn to him: "Give kiss to Rhoar" he said, and only the barmaids anger and fear kept her from becoming unconscious by the bad breath of the orc. Nauseated, she struggled to free herself from his grasp but she could aswell have tried to move a mountain - with the same success. "Leave her be!" a young bold peasant said from behind the towering orc but a small ellbow check sent him flying through the air into some crates in the corner, where he stopped moving. "YOU HURT MY BROTHER YOU MONSTER!!" another peasant yelled, stood up and began to charge Rhoar. He never reached him. A spiked chain wrapped itself around his left leg, and tore it out as if it was nothing; on the other side of the chain: Angosh. The duergar wasn't finished with him; he lifted him high into the air and sent him flying through a window. "Now ye've learned somethin' 'bout dragons, and how they fly!". Panic broke out, and many customers stood up and wanted to leave the room but before they could take three steps, vines and bushes grew out of the wooden walls, and blocked all exits; windows and doors alike "YOU ALL STAY WHERE YOU ARE!" Jo'Li shrieked, and all complied. Brock just shaked his head but minded his own business, which was eating at the moment. "Ok, now you! Play some music for us, and pray to the heavens that I like this song!" Later that evening, after the Squad had an entertaining evening harrassing the frightened customers who hoped that this night would be over soon and the gang gone from their village, Jo'Li anounced that they have decided to stay here during the wintermonths and taking control of the hamlet. That weren't the news the people had hoped to hear, and so, Natiro Vok - the barkeeper and owner of this establishment came to their table. After a short bow he asked "Do the gentlemen want to have something else to drink? On my costs of course!" - "OF COURSE ON YER COSTS YE DOG OR DO YE EXPECT ME TO PAY FOR THIS?" - "I would never think of something like that. It is an honor to have such guests in my house." - "I am glad that you think so, barkeep. Glad for you! Bring me another wine, the best one!" - "An me gets another beer, and make thata big one!" - "Of course. May I ask you a question, mylords?" - "Sure. Why not?" - "Why do you want to stay here in this small hamlet which is surely not worth your attention?" - "Oh. You know, dear barkeep, we have important things to do. Jo'Li here requested some time to craft new items, and I could work on my own blade too. It seems that this nice little hamlet has everything we need so we might be staying here for some time; perhaps all winter long." - "It occured to me that you are an adventuring band. I might have an interesting tale for you." - "Go ahead!" and Brock motioned for him to sit down. "Have you ever heard about the Dungeon of Death?" - "This Tavern, if your story is not entertaining?" and when Natiro answered no, he began with his tale... "Not far from here lies the Dungeon of Death. Actually it is part natural cavern system but some races that dwell below the surface have hewn out some rooms. Treasure rooms. The whole complex has been in existance longer than anyone can remember; some say it is dated back in the thousands when Heavy Magic was still unbound and in common use. Though there is a lot of wealth rumored which varies with every tale, there is one legend that appears in every gossip. It is said that deep in the heart of the dungeon is a big room that contains an artifact of ages past and of power that let's today's magic pale against it. This artifact comes in form of a great red ruby, as big as a fist, that is said whoever controls it, controls the power stored within." - "Interesting story, barkeep. But 'Dungeon of Death'?" - "That name has been given by us. We won't set a single foot in that cavern." - "Them cowards know nothing 'bout killin' stuff." - "Yes, but still I have to warn you about the sentinence." - "Which sentinence?" - "A sentinence that roams the dungeon, and controls it. It is the most dangerous thing in there." - "What type of creature is it? And what does it look like?" The barkeep leaned forward; shadows from the oillamp flickered on his face. With a low voice he said "It's the gemstone." ... The three duergars looked at each other, then burst out in loud laughter at the same time. "LOL The stone? Are ye kiddin'? We're dwarves! We're born of stone!" - "Sounds easy enough to me." After they have called for Rhoar who had disappeared upstairs half an hour ago - together with the barmaid - they began to make their plans, raised their mugs in triumph and downed them with one long gulp. No one saw the barkeep's smile. Chapter 2: The Origin of the Squad Originally, it was Brock who founded the Deepstone Squad, when he used to travel the upper Underdark with two of his friends, Spike and Mike by name, twins by blood, and lovers by heart. Together they earned quite a reputation among the deepdwellers, especially when it came to fighting drow but Mindflayers and other aberations fell to their axes aswell, and even then the list was far from finished. Despite the fact that they made a lot of powerful enemies it seemed that they didn't care in the least. After only 10 years they were one of the most sought-after adventuring companies of the Underdark, and one of the most wanted ones aswell. When asked, Brock always says that these were his golden times, when everything was fun and went as smooth as in a game. Eventually some of their adventures took them to the surface of the world, most of the time easy mission to kill someone, or destroy something. But the golden times were not meant to last forever. It was on their sixth journey under the stars that Spike fell prey to a redneck tree when he threw up from a long booze. The scene was short and gruesome, and the deceased duergar became to be known as the 'Skewered Dwarf'. Brock and Mike vowed never to return to the surface. However, they had completely forgotten about their vow the next day, when they woke up with a heavy hangover. Chapter 3: The Voice It was late the next day when the Deepstone Squad arrived at the entrance to the Dungeon of Death. They have left the village behind - much to the relief of the inhabitants. The Squad had an amusing time there; especially Rhoar and Angosh - who joined the orc later that night in the barmaid's room. Jo'Li was a bit anoyed though that one of the peasants didn't bow to her but she showed him mercy and only dropped a flamestrike through his barn where he had kept all his cows. "We should return to that stinkhole when we're done 'ere." - "Rhoar agree. Perhaps Rhoar marry barmaid." - "No way, ye dumb big idiot! She's mine!" - "You say Rhoar dumb? I show you dumb!" - "Yeah! C'mon an' me's givin' ye a headache worser than the hangover ye had!" - "STOP IT! ... Here's the entrance to the dungeon. And there's something written on the door. Jo'Li, can you translate it?" - "Hm. Let's see. It is written in an ancient dialect of the druidic tongue. I'm not entirely sure but it says Beware, traveler, you can take whatever treasure you seek but never cross the SEAL! If the seal is crossed, your... The last part is undecipherable." - "Pah! If them think this is gonna keep me at bay them should bedda think again." and he stomped towards the irondoor. As soon as he touched the adamantine ring fixed to the door... "Aaaannnngggooossssshhhhhh" - "Hä? Who's there?" - "Is me, Rhoar." - "Shut up! Me've heared somethin' callin' me name!" - "I heared nothing" - "Me too. Interesting, and disturbing. Perhaps we should be more carefully." - "Nah! Them stupid voices cannot gemme away from me treasure." - "Our treasure." - "That's what me's sayin'. Let's go!" After Angosh and Rhoar bashed down the door which proved to be open all the time, they had found themselves in a long dark corridor filled with dank air. Of course, none of them needed light or smelled better than the enviroment in here and so they went on, deeper into the mountain. Brock led the way and watched out for possible traps, even found one at the first T-junction. Since neither Brock nor anyone else knew how to disable them, he did what he always does and told Rhoar to go ahead for a while. *BOOM* an explosion made the cavern shake as Rhoar walked right over the trap no one had told him about, though after some healing potions he seemed as good as new. This was a commonly used tactic of the Deepstone Squad with Rhoar being the only one who didn't agree, or even know about it but the orc was always thankful that Brock - a minor cleric - used his healing abilities on him. "Good Brock care for Rhoar". After the first day they had completely cleared the first level of the dungeon, only encountering minor resistance in form of some lizardmen and other weak monsters that either fell to their weapons or fled at top speed. Treasure was however about the same scale. "I swear ye if the damn barkeep had lied to us me'll rip him apart!" - "After I've burned down his neat Inn." - "Guys, please let us focus on our task here." - "You mean them not good friend with Rhoar?" - "What?" - "Hä?" - "Rhoar?" - "What?" - "Ye're just askin' me weird things, but then ye always askin' weird things" - "Rhoar, what do you mean with 'them not good friends with you'? Who?" - "Rhoar forget." They got to 'bed' soon thereafter to find some hours of sleep, and regain their abilities. After a minute or two everyone except the orc slept who seemed to be fully concentrated. "Yeessssss, wellllll doooonnnneeeeeee, mmmyyyyy fffrrrriiiieeennnnndddddd" Chapter 4: Angosh After the demise of Spike, it didn't take long for the brother and lover Mike to seek eternal's rest. Although he and Brock traveled for another year, Mike showed less and less enthusiasm in adventuring and even cleaving heads (his favorite hobby!) didn't bring back his mirth. Brock saw that coming and made arrangements to find a suitable replacement for Spike to bring back his happieness. He'll never forget the day when he introduced Angosh to Mike: "Eh, ye're smellin' badder than meself!" "Yup." "Ye've even more pimbles than meself!" "Yup." "Mind me joinin' yer gang?" "Yup." Mike - deaf as a rock - was never one who used many words and so it was Angosh who talked most of the time. Glad that he finally found someone who seemed more or less interested in his life, Angosh told Mike all about it during the next few weeks. Born as the only son to Großgosh, his unemployed father was more often drunk than not, lying all day on a dirty couch with the only exception being the times when he stood up to give his wife some blue-green eyes. Angosh's first friend was an animal someone brought down from the surface; rabbit as it was called. He liked that thing because it didn't make much noise and didn't run away (with its legs being cut off). Young Angosh spent hours upon hours with the rabbit, talking and playing, and in all his life this was the only being he had come to love. For that reason he got really mad at his dad when Großgosh took it away from him, grilled it infront of his eyes, and forced little Angosh to eat it aswell. Großgosh died 10 hours later ...with a chain wrapped around his neck. Though this wasn't too bad an act in the duergar society, Angosh had to move out and find some work. Work he found indeed as he got captured by a band of drow, dragged to their city as a slave. During the next 20 years he learned what it meant to suffer pain. He also learned a lot about torture as being the subject of the drow's techniques. He was one of their favorite beings on whom to exact the latest torture technique because he endured more than anyone else could, and was still conscious after several hours of 'practise'. Eventually, there was an uprising in the drow city and Angosh saw his chance! He allied himself with some of the goblin slaves and by pure luck alone made it out of this despiteful place. He was just about to celebrate this turn of events when he got hit by something and found himself working for the goblins; chained to a wheel and destined to walk in circles. Angosh had a plan though: he laid the chain to which he was attached to into the bracky water in which he had to sleep, and ten years later it was so rusty that he could tear it in half. A lot of goblins followed. Free again, he walked the Underdark for the coming years, the part of the chain that was still afixed to his leg his only weapon, but he survived and learned, and when he finally met Brock Granitehand, he was more than willing to join his company. Chapter 5: The Dungeon of Death "Dumdidumdidumm...Nope....Dumbdidumm....Y up, Rhoar would like that..." - "I'm a bit worried, Jo'Li. Rhoar keeps talking to himself for the last hour...Jo'Li?" - "What did you say? Ah yes, the orc" - "SSSHHHHHTTTT!!" - "I wouldn't mind about that. He always seems a bit off." - "Are you sure? You are here the expert on mystical things." - "100%" and Brock seemed to be satisfied with that answer. "Heeeeee ssssussssppeeecctttssss sssoommmeeethiiinnnnnggggg!" - "No, ...I don't think so" Jo'Li ...thought. The Deepstone Squad decended down the stairs - clearing the way of spiderwebs, and of spiders alike when the others learned that this was some of Rhoar's favorite diet. The second level prooved far more challenging than the first one, and they had quite some problems with the traps which seemed to become deadlier as they went. It was at one of these traps that it happened... "Uhm Rhoar, my eyes are a bit sleepy and my uhm...legs hurt. Can you take the lead for a second?" - "Yup. Rhoar will go first. Dumbdidumdidu...hey, what? There is trap? And Brock know about it!?" - "Uhm..." - "Yeah, Rhoar go on and BOOM go into trap again!" - "How did he know?" - "I don't know. Perhaps coincidence? Uhm, Rhoar, which trap are you talking about? I have seen no trap." - "Lie? Yeah! Lie! It says Brock lie and put Rhoar in trap!" - "Who said that?" - "Rhoar!" - "No. I mean who told you that I would lie?" - "Can the three of ye shut up and get the orc movin'? Don't wanna waste no time 'ere!" - "Rhoar, if you don't want to go on, you don't have to but please calm down!" The orc stood there fuming for a while, then he replied "Rhoar know about you! Not send me again in trap or Brock into trouble." and with these words Rhoar stomped on... *BOOOMMMM* "RRRHHOOOOAAARRRRR!! BROCK DEAD MEAT NOW!!!" - "SHUT UP!! ENEMIES APPROACHING!!! READY YER WEAPONS!!!" - "ANGOSH! TO MY SIDE! RHOAR, YOU TAKE THE FLANK, JO'LI! STOP THEM!" - "I TRY! INKERTUS ...POULKA...IMPERIAAAA!!!!" The fight was long and hard, and though many of the approaching monsters - looking like snakemen - lost many in the process, their ranks seemed to be endless, and more than one wound was dealt to the Squad. They fought like bersekers! Left and right their weapons cleaved through their ranks, and as soon as one of them fell, two others took his place. Rhoar suffered the worst wounds as he frequently held his head and cried out as if some unseen force was assaulting him, and during these moments it was that he got the most hits. "WE HAVE TO RETREAT AND REGROUP!!" - "COME TO ME! I'LL BLOCK OUR WAY!!" and as soon as the three fighters passed Jo'Li, she invoked a wall of stone that completely blocked the tunnel, though the Snakemen were already bashing against it from the other side. "Quick! We won't have much time. Let's see to where this tunnel is leading us." The tunnel made one two sharp turns but was shorter than expected: after only 500 feet it opened into a huge natural cavern with stalagmites and stalagtites, some of them almost ranging up to the ceiling which was even out of their darkvision range. "A DEAD END??? BY NERULL!!" - "Quick! We have to find cover! Angosh, take position over there! Jo'Li, you stay with me, and Rhoar...Rhoar!?" - "No no, go out, Rhoar not want listen!" - "Rhoar take cover or you are dead!" - "AAARGHH!! IT IN HEAD!!" - "STAY DOWN YOU FOOL!!" - "AAARGHH!!" - "What is it? WHAT IS IT?" - "VOICE! THE VOICE!! CAN'T YOU HEAR!!" - "We have to make him shut up, or all creatures in this dungeon will be upon us in no time!" - "But what?" - "I DON'T KNOW! JUST DO SOMETHING!!" - "AAARGHHH!!" - "THEM MONSTERS RETURN! READY YER WEAPONS!!" Brock jumped up from behind his cover and began to climb over it towards Rhoar who was standing in the middle of the cavern, holding both hands against his head. "What are you doing you fool? Leave him!" - "We need him." was all Brock answered, and with these words Brock ran towards Rhoar "Rhoar! RHOAR! LISTEN TO ME!" - "AH BAD THING IN RHOAR HEAD!" - "Rhoar, we need you now. Drink your potions. Here, take this one...." - "*Gulpgulp* *munch*" - "Yes, and now this one! Good. Here's another one...COME ON RHOAR!! WAKE UP!" The collapse of the magical stone wall heralded what was now going to happen. Dozens of Yuan-Ti swarmed the cavern; their forked tongues creating a concert of hissing noises. They were well equipped and knew how to wield a weapon. Brock knew about a particular item Rhoar carried with him so he searched the orcs bags for it, all the while looking into the direction of the charging snakesmen. "JO'LI!! ANGOSH!! KEEP THEM AT BAY!!" While Jo'Li remained behind cover and cast her spells on the approaching snakemen, Angosh leaped out from behind the stone formation and jumped forward into the middle of the battle. His spiked chain whirled around, tearing limbs out as if they were grain ready to be harvested, and once in a while the occosional head flew by. This bought Brock the time he needed to get the item in form of a small medal which he held forward and spoke the command word. A black portal in the shape of a vertical circle opened out of thin air, connecting the cavern in the present with the world in the long-forgotten past, and no second later a large dinosaur came through, rhoared once, then leaped forward. That was all Brock could do for Rhoar who was still standing there, his eyes forced shut and with a grimace of pain. His hands pressed against the sides of his head indicated that this was a more serious matter than a headache. But the Yuan-Ti closed in. Brock fought like a madman! Unarmed he hit the first enemy so hard in the face that it collapsed where it stood, while the palm of his left hand stunned another Yuan-Ti that flanked him without him looking at it. The third one wasn't any luckier as the stout deepdwarf grabbed it with his hands, lifted it high into the air, and sent it flying into three other approaching 'hissers'. Two new ones took their place and charged Brock from 11 and 1 o'clock but Brock drew a handaxe with each hand and sent both flying in their directions until they were stopped by their split skulls, and before they died he already had his dwarven waraxe out. Jo'Li wasn't idle too during that time and giant bats soared threw the cavern, diving down once in a while to take a trophy with them - with snakeheads being their favorites. Spikes covered the floor and made many of their reinforcements arrive in a condition that was hardly a match for the experienced duergars. The fiercest animal of them all was however the Megaraptor that leaped right into the middle of a given group only to tear them to shreds and pieces. His foreclaws raked against their yellow eyes while he bite half a head off to his left, a little jump and his hindlegs opened the torso of another one. The Yuan-Ti came to respect this beast the hard way, and many asked them why the dinosaurs had died out eventually. And the answer followed. The Megaraptor had just rid himself of a group of snakemen, as a massive powerful Yuan-Ti Lord entered the cavern. It wore a black fullplate with vile symbols of evil deities on it, in its hands it carried a long black and surely corrupted glaive, and an aura of unspeakable evil surrounded the whole monster. All Yuan-Ti gave way to this being so from the Megaraptors point of few it was the only viable target in reach, and since dinosaurs normally don't distinguish between humanoids it attacked. Oh, and how it had erred! It was high in midair, fast approaching the Boss-Snake which stood there unmovingly, but just mere feet before it was upon him (or her) it spun the glaive around his hands in two full turns and in the same fluid motion made a high swing and brought the keen reachweapon down on the beast, forcing it down to the earth again, blocked a claw that was about to accidently slash across its throat, and swung for a second time dealing another tremendous blow to the poor beast. The Megaraptors feeble attempts to defend itself did absolutely nothing, didn't even get close to penetrating the Yuan-Ti's defenses: it spun another circle with the glaive - blocking two foreclaws in the process, swung the weapon around its waist, deflecting the bite attack, and as soon as the glaive appeared on the other side again, the snakeman used its momentum to drive the blade deep into the Megaraptors flank. That proved too much for the beast, though it didn't give up. Bleeding it lay at the feet of the towering snakelike thing and scratched feebly against the snakeequivalent of feet, barely able to keep the foreclaw aloft. The surrounding Yuan-Ti stopped their fights for a second and hissed "TO-RI, TO-RI" in unison. Spurned by its followers Tori lifted the glaive high into the air, and brought it down on the animal, ending its misery. Toreilison watched the battle and saw many of her followers bleeding or dead on the cavernfloor, though there were still many Yuan-Ti standing. A wall of animals blocked the path to the druid at the back of the wall, and several of her snakemen were kept at bay by the swinging chain of the one with the spare and greasy hair. The third one was surrounded by at least five Yuan-Ti, but wait... Brock had all hands dodging incoming blows and cuts from the five Yuan-Ti that flanked him from all sides. He was already bleeding from more than one wound, and he was sure that there would be more to follow. Thanks to his warrior instincts he dodged another viscious scimitar that would have pierced his eye and at the same time blocked a hit from a club with his leg. He released the pressure from his leg for a second, throwing the snakeman off-balance and forward, then brought his knee up and right into the chest of the snake. From the sound that followed he learned that they had bones too. He turned around and was just about to finish the staggering one off, as he saw the Yuan-Ti Leader walking towards Rhoar, whose situation hasn't improved in the meantime. "NOO!! COME HERE YOU COWARD!! FIGHT M...*OUCH*" And Tori walked on, now quicker, and quicker, it broke into a slow run, becoming faster with every splitsecond, a deep growl emerged from the thing as it gripped its glaive with both hands; its yellow eyes wide open and spinning hypnotizing circles, the growl became a roar when it lifted the glaive high into the air and with a warcry no duergar ever heard... "RRRROOOOAAAAAARRRRRR" - "NNNNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" The glaive sunk deep into Rhoars shoulder, severed his left arm in the process and continuing on its way halfway through the orc's body until it came to a halt at buttonbelly height. The scene froze. Seconds seemed like minutes, waterdrops descended as slowly as feathers, Brock's cry - mixed with Tori's - still echoing through the cavern, seeming distant, and Rhoar standing there with a glaive halfway through his torso with the Yuan-Ti Leader on the other end. The normal timeframe returned and everyone thought Rhoar would drop like a sack of flour but unbelievably he stayed on his feet!!! And more than that: the orc has apparently regained his senses - as much as he ever had - and even denied to yield to the circumstances! Slowly, he lifted his right arm up until it was at about the height of the Yuan-Ti's shoulder. Which he grabbed. First it seemed that he just wanted to support himself but he tried to get his hand on the throat of Tori, as the fingers slowly crawled inch by inch forward [Rhoar: club (4+19+2(heroism)+1(haste)-2(PA)) = 24 vs 27, fails]. Even the powerful Yuan-Ti was astonished by this display and let it happen for a while but then he saw Brock watching this spectacle from afar, a grin formed on its snakeface, and with a mighty tug he pulled the glaive out. Chapter 6: Brock's Dream "Brrrooooocccckkkkkk!" ....... "Brrrroooooocccckkkkkk!" - "Hmmm... *snort*" - "Brrrrooooooccccckkkkkk!" - "Hrrrr, w..whhat? WHO'S THERE!" - "It is me, Brock. The one you ssseek!" - "What do you know what I am looking for?" - "I know many thingsss. You want to quench your pain. Not the physical one, but the one dealt to the sssoul" - "You mean Rhoar? A sad thing. Yes. Sad. Sad. Sad. He would have cleaved the snake in half had he his wits around him" - "Yesss. A strange thing that he lost them in the heat of the battle. I know whyyy. It was sheeeee" - "She? You mean, Jo'Li? Nah." - "She wantsss to control the artifact. She wantsss it for herself." - "I don't believe you." - "Think about it. Wasss this the first time Rhoar acted strangely?" - "Hm, actually no. It began when we entered the dungeon" - "And got closer to the artifact. An orcsss mind is easy to manipulate, and he wasss the one mossst loyal to you." - "Perhaps it was YOU who manipulated Rhoar. Why should I trust you?" - "Becaussse I am the guardian of the artifact. I want to make sssure that it does not fall into wrong handssss. You are an honest perssson; far better sssuited to wield sssuch power. By the way, I wasssn't speaking of Rhoar when I talked about your pain." - "I don't understand." - "Do you know what the power of the artifact isss?" - "You'll surely tell me." - "A wissshhhh. Whatever your heart desssires will come true. Tell me Brock, issss there a thing you dessssire ...or wisssh to be made undone?" - "Oh ya." - "Ssspike and Mike. You can travel with them onccce again, like in the old timesss. And you would prevent the doom of the world by letting the evil druid get it. Let me help you. Help me. Help me to help you." - "Uhm, well, uh, what do I have to do?" - "Make sssure the other two do not reach the artifact. Kill them, before it isss too late. Kill them, before they kill you. Kill them...killl them...kill them...kill them..." - "NOOOO!!" - "Brock! BROCK! Is everything ok?" - "What? Where?" - "If ye cry that loud ye rouse all them snakes 'round 'ere, and worser: ye rouse me!" - "You shouted out loud." Brock was silent for a moment, layed down again, and replied "Ah, don't worry. Just a bad dream.", then he pulled the blanket over again. "Just a bad dream" Chapter 7: Jo'Li Jo'Li didn't become a druid by choice. She was the third child of a duergar clan deep in the Underdark, and one that was at good terms with a neighboring drow community. Though these races battle themselves more often than not, this clan had good ties to the city of Echzelan'bonezch where Jo'Li's parents acted as some kind of ambassadors for the duergars. The drow guaranteed them wealth and savety - as much savety as one can have in a city full of drow - but they requested them to live by the rules of the darkelves. Of course, there weren't many when it comes to chaotic beings but the few they had were more than enough to make one's life hard, especially the one that requested the third child to be sacrificed to Lloth, the spidergoddess. As rare as drow laws were caring duergars and Jo'Li had the fortune to have such parents. In the middle of the Underdark-night they stole their daughter out of the city where they gave it to a tiefling merchant that traded with the surface. Though they in no way trusted a being with demonic origin it was the only alternative to the sacrifice and with a heavy heart bade (and payed) him to bring the child to the surface dwellers and look for caring adoptive parents. The tiefling made even more money this day when he reveiled the duergars act of passion to the drow council. The penalty for them was five years torture (with the subsequent death of course). He didn't know why but the tiefling - Hy Denshadow by name - took the baby indeed to the surface world; perhaps because he was still drawn to keep contracts - his devilish nature forced him oftentimes to do so. However, upon arriving at the surface he became a bad conscious for becoming to good and so his mind worked on how he could keep his promise and still do something wicked. He found the solution when they traveled through a remote forest. A wolf den, and an inhabited one at that, was the solution he sought and after he had sneaked into the cave he left the child there, and traveled on - completely satisfied about this perfect lawful and evil act. But again, fate didn't want Jo'Li to die. An old druid came to the den before the wolves did. Surprised on how a duergar baby got into a wolf den he did his best to shield the young dwarf from the cold and other hazards. However, he knew he was old so he talked to the wolfpack leader and ordered him to take care of the child, teach it and raise it as if it would be one of his own. The wolf had no other choise but to agree and soon found out that it wasn't that bad and so Jo'Li grew up among the wolves. She learned to hunt, she learned to track, she learned to read natural signs as easily as a mage read a book, but most importantly, she survived; even thrived in this enviroment. She learned how to mimic animals, how to walk like them, how to speak like them, and eventually how to became them. By the age of 12 Jo'Li was a cunning predator that could easily take down a regular bear on her own, using mystical powers nature granted her. She never questioned the fact that she was different, not until the day when she met the first humanoids. They are humans though she didn't know that by then. They were hunters, pelt hunters who sold animal fur for a few silver pieces to finance their daily booze up. How surprised they were when they found a girl among the wolves. After they had forced her to watch how they butchered the only family Jo'Li ever had they took her with them to their homes, where on the same night the three of them made the young girl a woman... She spend a full year among the despiteful humans; chained and gagged, she was unable to escape. If she tried to flee they punished her; otherwise they rewarded her, with the 'reward' happening to be a pleasure to the men aswell. After 12 months one of the hunters made a mistake in removing the gag that covered her mouth all the time, and he payed with his life. The other two followed soon thereafter, and Jo'Li was free again. Since she had no idea where to go she traveled the land for days until she finally came upon a small monastry run by a handful of monks. This was also the place where she met Brock Granitehand for the first time, and since he was of the same race, she was all to eager to listen to him as he told her how the world functions, though always from a negative point of view. Brock came here to mourn over the loss of Mike who just followed his brother in the afterlife a month ago when he walked through a grove of redneck trees. These plants became the duergar's phobia for he had witnessed firsthand what a redneck tree does to those it catches, and when Jo'Li told him that she had power over these beings, Brock wanted to have her around him. The two spent the whole winter in the monastry; not a single day passed where Brock didn't tell Jo'Li that his adventures with S&M were the best times in his life, and by the time when the snowdrops gave way to narcissuses, Angosh and Rhoar stood infront of the door - ready to join in with Brock again. And this time, four of them left the place... |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 08:51 PM | Chapter 8: The Enemy Within The three remaining members of the Deepstone Squad found at least some rest, and could tend their many wounds. Later that day, Angosh found a shortcut that led right down to the third level of the dungeon and helped them to avoid further Yuan-Ti encounters. With their 'trapdisabler' gone, Angosh was the best bet in avoiding traps by letting him find ways to go around them; sometimes they even had to manipulate the natural rock to move on. The journey proceeded slowly, only a couple of hundred feet an hour, and so they had a lot of time to talk. "I hope Angosh finds another route. That chasm is too deep to risk crossing it." - "I'm sure he will. A pity Rhoar drank the potion of fly before he deceased." - "Pardon me? Is this the only thing THAT INTERESTS YOU?" - "I just wanted to say that we could have put it to good use now." - "I didn't hear a single word of mourning since he deceased..." - "I have my own way of mourning!" - "...and now the first words related to his death is that we wasted a fly potion on him!?" - "Calm down, Brock!" - "Perhaps you want to accuse me that I made him drink these potions while he was stunned, eh?" - "Yes, that question crossed my mind!" - "Bah! This is discussion isn't worth it!" - "Brock, please, we need to stay calm and focused in this dungeon! If we get mad at each other we will never make it out here." - "Perhaps you're right." Brock sat down again, and continued prepare the meal. "Sorry." was all he said the next minute. "Brock, I do mourn over the loss of Rhoar. I just have more important things in mind right now, for example how we get to the artifact. If we get our hands on it we can easily wish him back to life!" Brock froze. "Uh..." Brock's eyes narrowed. He slowly turned around in Jo'Li's direction, and with the most dreadful voice he slowly said "How does it come that you know about the wish?" while he stood up, and broke into a dead run, fully ramming Jo'Li into a wall and holding her up by the shirt "HOW DO YOU KNOW!!" - "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT GOING...*OUCH*!" - "YOU ARE POSSESSED JUST AS THE VOICE SAID!!" - "THE VOIVE? YOU FOOL!! IT IS YOU THAT IS POSSESSED!!" - "I HEARD YOU TALKING TO YOUSELF JUST LIKE RHOAR!" *PUNCH* *throws Jo'Li against a wall* *stomps after her...but she went invisible already* "I WILL GET YOU!!" Brock heard spellcasting and he knew Jo'Li became serious now. Perhaps it was the best as it is now for this was obviously not the moment she planned to strike against him. Still she vanished from sight. This was a common Duergar ability but perhaps 1 in a million duergars are not capable of doing so, along with other inate powers. These 'failures' as they were called in Duergar society were shunned and mistreated from childhood on, and eventually exiled if given the slightest reason. Brock was such a failure. He always felt at unease when around duergars, even among his companions, for he always thought they were looking down on him; despising him. The only two exceptions were Spike and Mike who couldn't even read, tie their shoes, or know to wash themselves. THEY didn't care about such things. Spellcasting again! This time from up above!! "This býtch! I will have to bring her down first." Brock waited. He stood in the middle of the cavern, taking cover behind some stone formations while slowly drawing a small stone he once got from a friendly gnome alchemist, and he waited. Duergar - used to invisibility - had excellent ears, Brock even more so as this was his only measure of dealing with this most hated ability. And then his ears picked it up "OBIDAI VINTURA WAND..." He threw the stone which perfectly connected with something in midair, and it exploded with a thundering noise that even pained far away Brock. "That spell is gone, hehe" he said, and he relaxed somewhat; hoping that Jo'Li will now come down and listen to reason! BBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ A powerful lightning bolt came crashing down from out of nowhere tearing through everything in its path quickly closing in on Brock's position who heard feeled sensed the threat released the weight from his left foot which made him drop to the side assisted by his arms and right foot as the lightning bolt neared his position missing Brock by a hair's breadth and shattering the rock he sat upon. All this happened in less than a second. As Brock regained his footing he looked at the thousand pieces the lightning stroke had reduced the rock into. *She's mad! She's really mad! Wait the voice! Of course, the voice corrupted her! Or did the voice speak the truth? Is this the betrayal it spoke about?* BBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ Another stream of cackling electricity collided with the earth, threw debris and rocks into the air, and left a small hole on the spot where Brock was standing not a second ago. That was more than Brock needed! He drew his longbow and fired back! Even to the keen ears of Brock Granitehand it was more than a simple task to pinpoint the exact location of an invisible being flying high above him, and so most of his arrows hit no more than empty air. After some time, he realized that the last minute was a boon when Jo'Li was finally finished with her preparations. A portal opened and viscious wolf appeared, the portal closing and vanishing again as soon as te animal has stepped through. This was no ordinary wolf! He stood twice the height of a regular one, and was at least twice as aggressive. With a mighty leap it jumped into Brock's direction. The deepdwarf swung around, released the arrow he had nocked, drew a second one, nocked it into the bow, pulled the string, released it - the first arrow was still in the air - drew a third arrow, nocked it - the first arrow hit the wolf - pulled the string, released it - the second arrow hit the wolf - moved behind cover and watched the wolf coming crashing down when the third arrow joined the other two. He had no time to celebrate this for if he thought the wolf was a dangerous foe, it pale in comparison to the huge brown bear that suddenly stood in the cavern. Stood! 2000 pounds and a growl that promised sure death broke into a dead run - in Brock's direction. Before the bear had covered half the distance, a new portal appeared and disappeared - delivering a heavy black steed, and a mad one at that - mad at Brock. However, the summoning of Jo'Li followed a certain pattern and Brock was able to decode it along with the bear, and so he made Jo'Li pay a high fee for the horse: he nocked an arrow and aimed it at the bear, counted to six, and released the arrow in a 45° angle upward. Blood rained from the ceiling accompanyed with a gurgling sound. "Yesss!" but he had more important matters than to celebrate this hit. The bear and the horse were closing in, and he knew that he would be dead if they would get him so he did what everyone would do and broke into a run, once in a while shooting arrows at no particular spots high in the air, and some of them even hit their mark! He used every cover available, dodging low stalagmite, hiding behind wall-like rock formations, moving on and throwing himself behind the next closest cover before another lightning bolt came crashing down ...next to him. But the animals closed in. And not only they but Jo'Li too. She has transformed herself into a fierce predator crackling with power and strength. Twice his height she stood now and she flew after him. It was only to Brock's magical boots that they weren't upon him at once. But they closed in. Brock knew the end was near. He couldn't do enough damage to bring them down, his boots were already short before exhausted and he aswell. "At least I can give you some reminder of me before I die!" and with these words Brock stopped. He didn't move on but just stayed on the spot where he was. The bear and the horse produced an extra portion of endorphines as they saw their prey has given up, and Jo'Li was puzzled too. Closer the three came, closer and closer, with Brock standing there turned sideward, his bow in hand... and then he exploded into motion. Arrow 1, drawn, nocked, pulled, released, arrow 2, drawn, nocked, pulled, released, arrow 3, drawn, nocked, pulled, released…arrow after arrow he sent into the air in such a quick succession that even an elf would nod in approval ...and then it was over. The brown bear and the mighty horse were upon him, towering over him, the bear roared once, lifted his claws and readied his bite, and together they brought all their natural weapons bite, claw, hoofs, kicks, down on poor Brock. In his life, Brock had spent some time imagining how he would die. He came to the conclusion that when the time is ripe he wanted to see the killing blow coming. He wanted to look death straight into the eye and say "It was fun." But the darkness didn't come. Instead, just before his body was about to be reduced to a bloody pulp, the animals vanished. Jo'Li was gone too. At first he didn't understand what just happened. Then he thought she had gone invisible again. And then he saw her broken form lying on the ground. "JO'LI!" he hurried towards her. There she lay, eight arrows sticking out of her body, blood coming through her mouth while she grabed Brock's shirt in a feeble attempt to draw him closer. "B..bro...*bloodcough* The voice. Hel..hell..hel.. *gurgle* I fooled the voic...into thinki..ng it contr..ls me *argh* This was...huh BROCK!!" in midsentence Jo'Li opened her eyes to the maximum and before Brock Granitehand could find out what she wanted to tell him, the answer came to him in form of a spiked gauntlet that pierced his heart from behind. "Did ye think me's so stupid an let yer get 'em treasure, then get me killed in a nap? Them voices told me yer plan!" Chapter 9: The Treasure Angosh knew he was close! He could feel it! He had to get past some traps and encounters but the monster that wanted to keep a duergar away from nearby treasure was a foolish one indeed, and a soon-to-be dead one at that. Even the guardians that blocked the last door to the treasure chamber were no match for the greydwarf as their limbs were torn out by a razorsharp chain. And so it was Angosh who entered a great hall and broke the silence that ruled for so long within these walls. Strangely, his darkvision didn't funtion here so he retrived some torches from his backpack and lighted them, his eyes slowly adjusting to the unfamiliar light. It was a big hall with all kinds of statues of unknown (to Angosh at least) persons, murals and wallpaintings decorated ornate pillars and smooth walls seemingly made of obsidian. This alone would have made every archeology professor leap in joy but Angosh didn't even realize it. No, he had another treasure in mind, and so he quickly scanned around the hall. And then he saw something at the other end of the room. Though he couldn't clearly distinguish all the shadowy things there, his eyes caught the sparkle of a red gemstone! Saliva-dripping he hurried forward but stopped a few yards later when he detected something on the ground among some rubble. Carved into the floor was a huge seal; its lines forming a certain pattern and if looked upon from afar it seemed to be some strange sign. The last third of the hall lay before him, now that he was closer he saw that the rubble once was a statue in humanoid form, and there was more than one of them. Since his interest in ancient history hadn't increased in the past two minutes he focused his gaze on the spot where he saw the sparkling earlier. And his heart leaped! A big red gemstone - a ruby for sure - as big as his fist greeted him from the end of the wall! The ruby was inlaid into the chest of another large statue, resembling some kind of monstrous creature though the whole thing seemed a bit distorted. Not waisting a second thought about it he hustled towards it. He didn't saw the seal behind him beginning to glow as he crossed it... Angosh reached the statue. It was at least 12 ft tall, a hideous mask as a face, with powerful muscles. Buried in its chest was the gemstone but there was still a problem for he now realized why it had been distorted from afar: the whole statue was enclosed in some field of ice; at least it looked like translucent ice, or glass of some sort. Angosh did what every dwarf would have done in that situation so he hammered with his spiked gauntlets - which were still covered with Brock's blood - against the glass. "OUCH! Ye damn window ain't gonna keep me from me treasure!" and he hammered on and on. Not a scratch. When that didn't help he switched to a small rock, then tried to melt the ice with the torch he held with the same success, until he finally came to his secret weapon: his bite. But the field didn't brake, nor was there a single dent in it after all the beating it got from the dwarf. What Angosh didn't see was the seal beginning to glow more in intense. With every second it became a bit brighter until even Angosh recognized it as a second light source. "What the..." but before he could finish his dwarfen curse the field began to glow aswell. Brighter and brighter the globe became, Angosh had to shield his eyes from the light that now illuminated half the chamber; it seemed as if some kind of power was building up inside the statue. Instinctively the duergar used his inate ability to become invisible and readied his deadly chain to strike at whatever may come... ...and he didn't have to wait long! With a cacaphonous thunder the icy globe vanished, and with it the bright light. A smile formed on Angosh's gap-toothed mouth when he saw his way to the ruby no longer blocked but that vanished quicker than a halfling in a crowded marketplace: the stone statue began to move! First it was only a diggit that made a light movement, then the whole hand balled to a fist, the right arm freed itself of the rock, then the left one, and with a final tug the huge statue made a robot-like step forward, its lifeless stone-eyes scanning its surroundings. And they found something in form of a tiny duergar! Angosh - never been the diplomat and surely not beginning to become one now - swung his chain once around his head and threw one end forward. It wrapped itself several times around the statues upper arm until it was solidly entwined with the limb, and with a mighty tug and a cry born out of greed he pulled at the chain and torn the whole stonearm out! Pieces of stone flew in all directions as the arm shattered on the floor, and unfortunately for Angosh one of the rocks hit his torch and extinguished it. The room went dark at once. Angosh's heart beat heavily, his breaths came in rapid successions, sweat dropped from his forehead as he found himself completely unable to see anything for the first time in his life! It was silent. Absolutely silent. Not the tiniest wind. *Wooossshhhh* "HHHAAARRGGHHHH" he hit only empty air but the sound came from above! Quickly he fumbled with a sunrod tucked in his belt to relight the torch, and just as he kneeled there relighting the wood, just as the light returned, he caught a glimpse in the corner of his eye, and as he turned around he could only see a massive stonefist 4 inches away from his head ...and fast approaching. The room went black again, and this time not because of the missing torchlight which was suddenly 50ft away! It took him a moment to regain his senses and soon found out that he had traveled quite some distance after the hit. Even worse, he found himself standing in the darkness again with the torchlight in the distance being the only light source. And now he heard the stomping. WOOM...WOOM............ WOOM...WOOM............ WOOM...WOOM............ the stomping coming closer and moving in his direction. He regained his footing with some difficulties WOOM...WOOM............ WOOM...WOOM........., denied his hands to feel for his aching face but instead held the spiked chain tight WOOM...WOOM....WOOM...WOOM...WOOM...WOOM ... and prepared for the incoming doom... WOOMWOOMWOOMWOOMWOOM... - "HHHIIIAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH" ...and brought his chain around. The first swing only hit the darkness but even this miss helped him as his keen ears measured the distance the sound made when it echoed back from the statue, and so he brought the other end around which solidley connected with the statues head and destroyed the left half of it, while the first end had completed a full circle and was ready to strike the statue again, this time at the torso! Not only did it destroy half the hip, it also wrapped itself around the statue, and when Angosh leaped high in the air and onto the statue - exercising a devastating headbutt, it toppled over and broke into a pile of former statue parts. And there it lay! The red ruby! Chapter 10: The reward Greed was written all across Angosh's face as he gripped the large gemstone, and without averting his eyes from it he walked back towards the torchlight, a mad smile on his lips. "MINE!! HEHEHE MINE!!! ...Uhm, he! What the..." First it was a strange feeling that began in his hand but it soon expanded into his arm and his shoulder. By the time the sensation was felt in half of his body, the hand that held the gemstone began to change... it became... stone. "ARGH! WHAT"S DAT? STOP IT! STOP IT!" but it was unstoppable! The transformation had soon taken over half of his body and when only his head remained flesh, Angosh knew. He just knew which faults he made in his life, but now, that remorse came too late. Fourteen seconds later, the new statue imbedded the gemstone in its chest, and walked back towards the end of the wall where the icy globe reformed around it. The Thirsty Dragon. Most of the damage done by the Squad had been repaired, mainly because of the help of a generous adventuring band. "Yep, and here is the last hole that has to be fixed. I think your lovely tavern has its undeniable flavor back." said Sir Brian, a knight of some renown. "I don't know how I can thank you for all your help, mylord." - "No problem. It was a pleasure to help. Apropos, I have allowed myself to donate some gold to your hamlet. We have enough to spare, and you can use it better than we." before Natiro Vok could reply, a third man - a highelf in clerical robes came down the stairs and approached the two "Any news about Helene, Eldarell?" - "She will be fine. I have erased the memory of her ...acquaintance... with the orc. It makes my heart bleed to hear that someone could do this to such a lovely woman." - "My Lords, I am speechless. I don't know what to say." - "Don't worry, Natiro" Brian said with a smile "We are doing this without expecting anything in return. However, if you insist on giving us a reward, then I would be very thankful if you could share your wisdom with us." - "Whatever you wish, mylord!" - "You as a barkeep surely knows all kind of gossip and stories about this region, and I was asking myself if there is adventure to be found nearby. A deserted castle, or a dungeon perhaps." Natiro hesitated for a second, then he looked Brian straight in the eyes, and with a smile he replied "No, my lord, nothing that I know of." |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 09:22 PM | High up on an unknown mountain in a rough cave… It had been six weeks now since Demon Lord Themmez arrived in this time, far in the future. He had followed the halfling through the portal, not knowing where it lead to but since he was bruised and battered he had not much choice. Oh how surprised he was when he found out where he had landed. Themmez was no fool and didn’t want to fall prey to his inexperience with this time, so he checked his surroundings – a desolate region – and found a small cave up on a mountain which was unfortunately habitated, unfortunately for the small ogre tribe that had resided there. A fourth of them were still in the cave, where “a fourth” means “all of their heads”. He was so close to the ultimate victory. He had reached the legendary Worldstone Chamber, the power of the World lay within his grasp weren’t it for this thrice damned archangel. ”OH IXENTHOR! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE! I WILL RETURN TO THE PRESENT AND PAY YOU BACK FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME!” he swore aloud while absentmindly rubbing his many wounds, wounds dealt by an archangel of the ancient times. But Themmez, weakened as he was, felt better than some weeks ago and he felt his strength returning – slowly though. At least he was able to tap some of his powers. It took him a long time and it wasn’t without pain, but he finally managed to complete the ritual. An imp appeared within the calling circle, bumped against an invisible barrier, cried out, bumped again against the barrier, then was silent as a clawed hand plugged it out of midair and almost squeezed the live out of it. ”GRAAHK! GRAAHK” it squeeled and its eyes widened even more as it realized what had summoned, and worse yet, held it fast in an unrelenting grasp. ”LISTEN YOU WORM! YOU WILL DO AS I COMMAND YOU OR I WILL FOLLOW YOU HOME AND GIVE YOU AN ETERNITY OF SUFFERING!” Themmez gnarled, and the imp, knowing what it was facing, just nodded its scaly head. ”YOU WILL HEAD OUT AND SCAN THE REGION FOR ME! REPORT EVERYTHING I MIGHT FIND INTERESTING! NOW GO AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY YOU DON NOT WANT TO FAIL ME!”. The last remark was of course completely unnecessary for who would try to take chances with a Demon Lord!? Several miles away, smoke from the chimneys of a small town rose into the air. The village of Seven Strides was an autonomous functioning community of simple hard-working people who want to have nothing to do with the wars and problems of the rest of the world. They had all they need to live a decent life, and the few luxuries they had came from passing merchant caravans, though such an event didn’t happen more than twice a year. And so it was a surprise indeed when a stranger walked into the only tavern in town who instantly attracted all gazes, especially those of the females for he was handsome indeed. ”Welcome traveler, welcome to our peaceful community Seven Strides. My name’s Olbert and I run the Tavern here.” - ”Well met Olbert, I am called Ronizifus but my friends call me Roniz so please feel free to call me that way” - ”A gracious offer indeed. So Roniz, what brings ye to Seven Strides. Surely, we can’t offer ye more than a warm meal and a comfortable bed for the night.” - ”Actually, I am not staying that long but I won’t say no to the meal. I am a traveler, an adventurer of some sort, a bard, and I have seen your fair hamlet from afar.” - ”An adventurer? Well, I am sure ye won’t cause us troubles but we are not very fond of adventurers or people who attract too much attention, no offense of course. We are a simple village and don’t want to have anything to do with all this modern stuff.” - ”Fair enough, and I am here as a friend. But I am curious. Who resides in this big tower outside town? This building seems to be a bit out of place here.” Olbert’s expression grew sour and he leaned forward so that Ronizifus could hear his whispers ”Hrmpf, this is the tower of Ildechai Hazeweaver, a scientist and wizard. Rumors say that he was a king’s advisor in a far away kingdom but had been banned because he was making gruesome experiments better left unmentioned.” - ”Sounds not very comforting” - ”We are not happy with him bein’ here but he helped us once when a band of orcs came into our village and so we didn’t chase him away. Not our best decision if ye ask me.” - ”Wow, this sounds like a most interesting story. What exactly is he doing up there?” - ”As I’ve said, this is something we shouldn’t talk about aloud…” *pulls our goldpiece* ”…but perhaps I can make an exception here.” Olbert leans even closer, his voice barely audible ”He makes experiments with Time itself!” Some time later, outside of Seven Strides… ”Therrre must be a solution. I am surrre.” the man, well within his 50s, said to himself while he walked around a cage with a gruesome huge monster in it which constantly tried to break free – and should have considering the thin iron bars – but the man in the blue robe was no fool and had them magically reinforced. ”I have added all ingrrrredients. Perrrhaps therrre is an errrrorrr in the temporrral forrrmula.” he went on, but instantly laughed about the ridiculousness of the thought that he would make a mistake. Ildechai Hazeweaver was one of the most brilliant minds these times, a genius who delighted in scientific research and putting difficult mathematical and arcane formulas together came as easy to him as harvesting the fields for the villagers of Seven Strides. One might think that Ildechai should be a happy man for few were blessed with such a gift, but this couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was lonely in his tower which he seldomly left and as much as he was gifted with a brilliant mind, others consider him highly uncharismatic. His stern demeanor and his rough personality made it hard to make friends and he soon came to realize that he was the only person with whom he could get along for long. This realization might have others stopped from trying to find a solution and forcing them to accept the fact that they will walk the path of life alone. Not so Ildechai! It took him years but he finally found a way to create a Timespliced Image, a duplicate of himself from an alternate dimension, which shared with him the lonely hours down here in his dark and dank laboratory. On a high beam, right under the roof of the tower sat Demon Lord Themmez and watched the human with fascination as he worked on his latest experiment which involved the temporal transposition of a being to transfer its strength through time into his own body, or something like that for this was even for the Demon Lord too difficult to grasp. Themmez almost jumped up in joy when Ronizifus – the erinyes he had summoned had told him about the mage and his breakthroughs, surely the devil was encouraged by the deskinned corpse of an imp impaled outside the cave. The Timespliced Image had left the tower some time ago and Themmez knew it was time to strike. If he could get his hands on the research, he might be able to travel back into his own time, perhaps even before the Siege of Kim’Kaleist to tell the other Demon Lords what they have to change in order to achieve victory! And how he could get past Ixenthor in the World Stone Chamber! Themmez closed his eyes and willed his form to become a giant version of himself. His mind tapped the inner reserves of his demonic self, gathered the power necessary to make the transformation, …and failed. Themmez opened his eyes in shock, instantly narrowed them to slits as he realized that was still far from recovered, his demonic powers far from full strength, and with it came an image of the being that did this to him! He growled, his body trying to scream in rage but he had to contain his anger for this would have alerted the wizard. He soon found a solution as he focused this very rage inward which gave him a sudden surge of power, and with it came the requested transformation. ”Perrrhaps the prrroblem lies in the disparrrate and spatial scales of temporrral matterrr trrransposition? No. But what if…” *CRACK* ”Harrr? What was that?” but no answer came. ”Prrrobably the beams arrre too old. I should exchange them… laterrrr” the last word was said absentmindly for he seemed to have an idea! Themmez blew a sigh of relief and scolded himself for not taking the old beams into consideration that now had to carry twenty times as much weight with his increased size! but the wizard seems to scribble something on a piece of paper. He willed brimstone smoke around himself to conceal his position and increased his own vision in the same process, though both were pretty unnecessary with the fully occupied man. Themmez silently laughed about himself and that he feared this human, and he decided to end his life quickly by summoning electrical power in his hands. He failed. ”RHOOOARRR!” The rage helped him to tap his inner power again and will his claws to crackle with energy but it came at the price of surprise: the human was now fully alerted, ran around in his laboratory more than 60ft below him; pulling levers here, pressing buttons there, even taking up his pen and continuing to write something down, but everything in a hurry that indicated that he planned on getting something out of his actions. Themmez didn’t have the patience to figure this out so he dived down all the way from the dark roof down to the candle-lit lab below which instantly darkened as the Demon Lord entered the area. Ildechai seemed to be a complete fool for he was still working but just as Themmez was about to strike, the human seemed to be finished with whatever he was working on as he pulled a big lever and positioned himself under something that looked like a lamp, only that it wasn’t a lamp. Energy began to crackle around the cage with the huge monster which howled out so loud that it could be heard down in Seven Strides! The electricity quickly found its way via several cords in a zickzack until it arrived at the lamp-like thing and was released into Ildechai! And to astonishing effects! Themmez first thought that the human had incinerated himself but he almost broke of his charge when the human was transformed into the same monster that was held captive in the cage! And indeed, he wanted to break off the dive but his wings were still broken from the battle at the World Stone Chamber which prevented him from pulling up again. He dropped down into the waiting mouth of the monster-mage! Of course, Themmez was too large to be swallowed but the razorsharp teeth drew a deep gash across his body, easily piercing the demonscales, and opening old wounds. Themmez plummeted to the floor and lay there, stunned by this incredible viscious hit! Of course, under normal circumstances, back in the Ancient times at full health, he would have ripped the head right off of the beast but here and now and in his weakened state he knew he had no chance against such a foe. Only his rage, his hate of Ixenthor, kept him from passing out, passing out of existance. Luckily for him the original monster in the cage couldn’t reach him but that hardly mattered now that the transformed wizard drew his head back to prepare for the finishing strike. Themmez vision was blurred to the point where he saw the monster seven times, so dizzy was he and he knew he would never get out here alive. He made one two feeble swings at the monster which had no effect at all, then – when the head paced down – he rolled to the side, a feeble roll that didn’t even bring him out of harms way so Themmez closed his eyes and made his peace. Was this how the existance of Themmez, almighty Demon Lord ended? Killed by a mortal!? He heard energy crackling again, he heard the scream of the monster, a painful scream! He opened his eyes again to see what was going on and his jaw dropped: electrical energy surrounded the huge beast, scorching it in every possible spot! Making its eyes bleed, the blood instantly bursting out in flames! What had happened? Themmez scrambled back to his feet, getting out of reach, checking his surroundings – perhaps Ronizifus had returned? Nah, a ridiculous thought after the ill treatment Themmez gave him. The monster burned in white flames as more electricity was pumped from the lamp-like thing into the body and it didn’t take long until the beast fell over to the side, and drew its last breath. ”WHY THE HELL…” but Themmez burst out in laughter when he saw a few cables that had been severed when he rolled over them earlier. He didn’t question his luck, packed Ildechai’s research into his bag, and left the building, and his maniac laughter, so it is said, was heard in a far away ruined city where another certain Demon Lord and a certain black cloud of evil resided… |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 09:44 PM | An excavation side, somewhere in the Kingdom of Nord Eldenburg… *CLONK* *CLONK* *CLONK* “Hey! Here! Come here! I have found something!!” – “What is it? Is it gold?” – “Tell us!” – “I don`t know but it glimmers in the torchlight.” – “This…this is some kind of metal, mithril perhaps.” – “Wait, let`s put away this st…st…stone, ok, here we go” – “It looks like an arm! Remove the rest of the debris!” – “Yeah! Here, this boulder, …now that rock…” – “Wow! This is a statue of a man, made of metal!! This might be worth something!” – “Gimme the light…yes, thanks” – “I didn`t bring any light” – “Me neither” – “Huh? But who…” - ”Excuse me, Sirrrs, but I believe you have found something verrry interrresting forrrr me.” – “Who in the Nine Hells are you?” – “And what are you doing here?” - ”I have overheard your little discussion and I want to bring you …light Viskonna Setza Segannnn” *fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffireBALL* It was a warm sunny day. This alone is justification enough for being outside and savoring the fresh spring air, and the sight of flowers sticking their blossoms out of the ground. But as picturesque as Gladius might be, the most beautiful part of the city was nothing compared to the view Banzanifal had out here in the open fields. There was not much civilization but endless rolling green hills only to be replaced by more green hills as soon as one of them has been passed. And here he stood, the paladin and officer of the Gladiosian Security, and though he had a difficult task, he didn`t regret that he had been assigned this mission. Banzanifal was no mere guard captain – although that was his title – but a highly specialized warrior, specialized in combating mystical powers, and he no doubt would need every bit of his abilities in the upcoming task. ”So peaceful” he said under his breath to his loyal steed Honorbound, then began the descend towards the small village of Seven Strides. ”Captain Banzanifal! Royal Gladiosian Security!” – “One second, Sir… ok…hm, ok… yes, thank you for your cooperation, Captain. If you would now follow me to Mister Eliol Kerkapp, our burgomaster.” - ”Lead the way” Banzanifal had no doubt that the peasant didn`t understand a word from the official letter he had been given by him and he wasn`t surprised when he was led to the only tavern in town, where innkeeper and burgomaster Eliol was already waiting for him. After the short introduction, Burgomaster Eliol, the blacksmith Horgath, and two other peasants sat down with Bazanifal and discussed the matters at hand. ”Ok, Mister Eliol, what is it that made you request the assistance of Gladius?” - ”You might have noticed the tower on the hill north of our fair village, yes, you surely have. This is the home of one of our residents...Ildechai, well, we don`t really consider him part of the community but no one would dare to tell him! He is dangerous, and has a disturbing personality! We could deal with that, and also with his wizardly researches but recently, strange things are going on up there! Strange noises, compared with screams and cries of agony echo down to us! His works all night long, and I don`t want to know what strange experiments he is doing up there!” – ”Hm, tell me more.” - ”This is only the beginning! Two months ago, one of our couples has made a nightly walk through under the stars, and they swear by their father’s life that they have seen a huge demon flying out of the top window!” - ”A demon?” - ”As surely as I sit here! And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Yesterday, another person arrived here, she is from your city and said she is after the mage.” - ”Really? Perhaps I know her. Who is it?” - ”Catherina Talyana!” came the voice from door, where a small halfling woman stood, but her confidence made her bigger than anyone else in Seven Strides. ”Talyana? Are you a relative of…” - ”We can talk about my father when there is time to do so” the fiesty woman said as she climbed and then stood on the chair to be at eye level with the others. ”Of course. What leads you to this village, Miss Talyana?” - ”Hazeweaver of course! He was a member of the Arcane Brotherhood in Gladius, and a promising one at that! Unfortunately, he used his talent to rob the Order of one of our most prized possessions!” - ”A powerful staff? A mighty wand?” - ”A book!” - ”A book?” - ”Yes! A BOOK, you dolt! And a most powerful one at that, one with formulas on how to manipulate time itself! Do I really need to tell you what might happen if he could travel back in time and undo this or that event?” - ”Alright alright, I got it!” - ”And he has already made use of it… Here!” *hands piece of paper* ”This is an excerpt of the Eldenburg Gazetter. Someone raided an archeological camp and killed all people there. The only evidence they`ve found was a magerune, a wizard’s ID.” - ”Let me guess… Hazeweaver!” - ”Right. However, no one could identify the rune but that is no surprise because…” - ”Hey wait, the newspaper is from over 150 years ago!” - ”Ah, now ye`re catching up, smarty.” - ”But why would he do that?” - ”Why? WHY? What about ‘because something valuable had been found there in the past’? - ”What did he want there?” - ”A warforged golem, a mighty machine of destruction. The knowledge on how to create them was lost for centuries until Professor Elenkiel found it 150 years ago. After careful examination, it had been given to the Historical Museum of War in the fallen Kingdom of Nord Eldenburg, a higly guarded building. Hazeweaver has the advantage of the knowledge of the future, so he could go back and steal the golem.” - ”But if he altered the time, how does it come that you know about that? If this would be true, the golem had never been donated to the mus…” - ”As soon as we found out that he had the book, we used divinations to find alterations in the timeline. This was the only one so far but be assured that it won`t stay the only one!” - ”Alright, I´ve heard enough! Let`s go!” - ”Wait wait wait! What do you have in mind?? Do you think you can just walk into a wizard’s tower??” - ”Yes, that was my plan. I will tell him who I am and that he must come down and accompany me to Gladius where he will get a fair trial.” - ”Are you nuts? Hazeweaver is one of…” - ”Listen Miss Talyana! I appreciate your concern but this is MY mission and I will now go up there and drag him to Gladius! You can either be with me or wait here until I am back!” - ”Ooookay!!! …bah, paladins” No hour later, Banzanifal, mounted on Honorbound and Catherina arrived at the gates to Wasteheaver’s Tower, for this was the nickname he had been given when he had been part of the Brotherhood …and how he had hated this name! It was not just a simple tower that stood on a hill, no, according to the information they could gather it had a small dungeon and underground sections though no one could provide any floorplans. Since no one answered the ringing of the bell, Banzanifal’s bell because there was none at the gate, the sorcerer began to speed things up by dispelling the seal weaved on the gate, and in another minute both walked into the compound. This however, caused a reaction from the resident here as he appeared in a puff of smoke and Banzanifal could just hold back Catherina’s casting of a spell. ”Trrrrespasserrrrs! Leave my grrrround orrr die!” - ”I am Banzanifal of the Royal Gladiosian Security and….” - ”Obiday wintuurrra wand…” - ”He’s weaving a spell!!” but Banzanifal was a specialist, as was told earlier, and he was already reacting to the aggressive behaviour of Ildechai. He focused his mind to form a link with wizard and succeeded in the heartbeat Ildechai was casting his spell, and interrupted the neural pathways from the upper mind to the now useless piece of flesh that was the rest of his body. ”Wow! Impressive” Catherina remarked, but no one payed her attention, not Ildechai who was barely able to keep himself on his feet, his eyes turned glazy, not Banzanifal who needed every bit of concentration to keep him that way, and surely not the warhorse though the steed knew exactly what to do next as it moved into a perfect position to allow its master a devastating charge! *Triptraptriptrap* Honorbound began to gallop and was soon in a full charge while Banzanifal released the mindblock and drew his weapon. He knew the wizard would need a few seconds to recover and this was just a few seconds too much. Closer and closer Banzanifal rode but just as he was about to cleave the head from the shoulders of the helpless wizard, an image of Ildechai, no, not an image but a younger double stepped out of the mage and blocked the path. Worse yet, it began to cast a spell on its own faster than Banzanifal could react to the new circumstance and the paladin soon found himself into a maze of swirling colors and now his mind was assaulted. Surely, everybody would`ve been hypnotized – or worse – by the spell, but Banzanifal had endured such spells for years now and had learned how to block such mental intrusions, and it didn`t take him long until he had shaken off the effects. He just wanted to ride on and slay both of the mages when he realized that his horse didn`t have the training he had, and stood dazed and stunned on the spot, not able to move on. That unexpected maneuver took no more than a few seconds but unfortunately these were exactly the few seconds Ildechai, the old one, needed to escape! Banzanifal reacted instantly, and jumped off the horse back and moved towards his target. The timespliced image – for this was the younger double indeed… a copy of Ildechai taken from the past – turned around and ran towards his future self, casting a spell on the run, fell over a small rock but could manage to deliver the touch with the last inches and rendered the mage invisible. ”NO!” shouted Banzanifal and extended his hand into the direction where the mage began to vanish. Small but razorsharp iron shards came out of his hand and flew into the direction where Ildechai stood just a moment before and the splatter of blood that flew off in all directions confirmed it as a hit! Ildechai almost died by this attack, almost, so he shook his head clear and teleported himself into his tower. The younger Ildechai had a smile on his lips as he saw his master escape but that vanished instantly as he turned around and just saw a big ranseur descending down on him and opening his stomach. Banzanifal just walked on and left him bleeding there. The last thing the time spliced image saw was Catherina joining the paladin at the door of the wizards tower …then the world went black. ”Well?” - ”He was lucky. I will…” - ”No, YOU were lucky that you survived this. I don`t know if you can handle such an attack again but I don`t care for I am going to do it my way!” - ”And what do you suggest?” - ”I will enter the tower through the dungeons. The Arcane Brotherhood gave me a spell where I can walk through solid stone for some yards. It works only for one person though.” - ”No problem. I intended to walk through this door anyway. I wish you good luck.” and as soon as Catherina invoked the magic of the scrolls she held, she vanished into the ground. It was a strange feeling to glide through earth and stone and she was glad when she finally materialized again. It was a dank and dark dungeons, waterdrops could be heard everywhere, and spiderwebs covered the whole ceiling. Catherina wasn`t bothered by this little inconvenience as she quickly moved on as swift as a halfling could walk, and hoped she took the right way for there where many directions to chose from. It wasn`t long until she held in her tracks and listened. She heard distant screams, screams of agony. She heard distant roaring, like those of strange and dangerous beasts. She heard rustling nearby. But that wasn`t what bothered her. It was another sound, something like a distant stomp, stomps, and they sounded… metallic. ” Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish…” She quickly took the path to her left to evade the sound that closed in from ahead of her. The tunnel led westward, then made a sharp turn to the north, the metallic stomps becoming more and more silent as she ran on until it finally vanished completely. Glad to have evaded this obstacle she mov… ” Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish…” ”Damn!” ”Beep beep dop beep ……. Erinnng… Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish…” Catherina was quick for a halfling and she had exceptional abilities in hiding and sneaking so she had no idea how the thing was able to close in, and this time from infront of her! She moved into a small sidetunnel, trying leave the sounds behind but the thing, whatever it was, was fast! Very fast, and even her magically advanced speed made her only even with whatever was on her feet, though it had a much better knowledge of this dungeon than she had. Closer and closer the sound came until she heard the most metallic and cold voice she would ever hear! ”Activate force shield… new order…*beepbeepdopbeep* …eleminate trespasser Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish…” Catherina knew she had to face the monster so she searched her pockets for a scroll, one she had been given by the Arcane Brotherhood for this scroll was far beyond anything she could cast for a long time. And just as she had the scroll out, the golem rounded the corner and came into sight! It was a horrible thing. Composed of redhued metal, with wires and blinking lights, it had this cold aura around it, a pure emotionless aura that let it just follow orders it had been given and she had heard the latest order herself. ”Ioun Tendrat BLASS!” she cried, the scroll crumbled to dust, and five glowing bolts of raw energy flew into the golems direction. Catherina smiled, for the activation was the trickiest part… now that the deadly bolts are on their way they will surely destroy the thing, and so it came as a big surprise to her when half the first two bolts were blocked by the forcefield that surrounded the thing! The other three impacted on the metal shell but this, and the fact that it was no living thing, was enough for the golem to survive. And worse yet, the thing ‘activated regeneration process’ and tiny metal robots began to fly around it and fix the holes the bolts burned into the torso. And so Catherina did the only logical thing and ran! Banzanifal fared better up above. He had cleared the first level of the tower and was halfway through the second level when he had to deal with some minor resistance in form of some mephits who were now back on their home plane. The real obstacle was a magical ward the prevented anyone from getting any higher. ”HARRR HARRR HARRRR” a voice sounded with no apparent source ”Until herrre and no farrrrtherrrr” Fortunately, Banzanifal was well equipped. He drew a stone from his pocket, placed it infront of the symbol without touching it, then took some steps back while activating the powers stored within. A wave of magic-disjunctioning energy filled the chamber, dispelling everything arcane in a 20ft area, where the symbol that blocked sight and access to the stairway upward that was just appearing being the most important one. Banzanifal stood up, and ascended to the next level of the tower. The third level proved to be another challenge! He walked down a long hallway with stained glass windows until he came in a round chamber which also was a dead end though the paladin’s insight told him that the key to the next and last level lies in this room. The chamber was filled with all kinds of mirrors which all pointed in the direction from where Ban came in. The odd thing was that it didn`t reflect Ban’s image but showed Ildechai, laughing madly. ”HARRR Now paladin, you must chose! And chose wise forrrr forrrr everrrry wrrrong mirrrrrorrrr you hit you will sufferrr an ill effect! HARRR HARRR” ”I have no time for this, mad one!” Banzanifal said, and smashed the first mirror randomly, though he used his longbow to do so for he didn’t want to stand infron of the eery mirrors when they shatter. The arrow pierced the glass and with a loud *klirrr* it shattered into thousand pieces. In the same second a white light burst forth and surrounded Banzanifal who threw himself to the ground! It took him a moment until he realized that the light doesn´t harm him, and another moment to realize that it had stripped him of most of his magical protections! ”Grrrr, you will pay for that mage!” and with this oath, Banzanifal released another arrow… Catherina wasn`t idle during the time. She managed to make the metalman radiate bright light so that she could discern his position more easily, and she also released a bolt of acid on him though that didn`t bother it in the least. She was on the run and wisely so for the golem was right on her heels! She was exhausted, her breaths coming fast and she was in desperate need of rest, but what could she do? She tried to walk on but her little feet didn`t carry her any farther, not now that she had ran for minutes at top speed through this underground maze, without finding an exit. She knew she had to do something or… ” Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish…” ”Anterior Extensior Sternal!” (hand begins to crackle with electricity) ” Erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… erinnng-kish… TARGET CLOSE! INITIATE DESTRUCTION MODUS!” ”EAT THIIIIIIISSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!” Banzanifal just recovered from the last mirror effect and got back to his feet. A black ray had hit him directly in the chest and began to sap his strength. He knew the spell, and he also knew that he would be helpless in mere seconds but his special training allowed him to focus inward and fight the insidious power of the magic back …successfully. He was even rewarded with clapping hands from the images of Ildechai in the mirror. ”That was most enterrrtaining forrrr me. I don`t want to be ungrrrateful so herrrre is something that might enterrrrtain you. Herrrre, enjoy the little show…” The mirrors began to blur and the image of Ildechai paled and vanished as another image appeared on the mirrors. It was a dungeon, a comepltely dark one were it not for the bright light in the distance. The scene zoomed closer to the bright light and Ban could now see that it was the gleaming man made of metal. At first, he didn`t find what disturbed him but then he heard the muffled voice, the tiny hands and the tiny feet, and then he saw that the female halfling was struggling to free herself from the iron grasp of the golem! ”NOOO! LEAVE HER BE!! SHE HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THAT!!!” - ”Of courrrse she has. She has been sent by the Brrrotherrrhood to take back what is now mine. She must die of courrrrse but I want to sharrre this amusing scene with you. HARRRR HARRRR” ”NOOOOO” the paladin yelled and fired one arrow after another at the mirrors, suffering its full effects as blast after blast rained down on him, and only his special training to resist magic kept him alive! Eventually, all mirrors were shattered, and just a second before the last mirror was destroyed, Banzanifal had to witness the death of the little sorceress by the metal monster! Anger swelled over him and he walked towards the stairs that had been concealed by the last mirror. Banzanifal entered the highest level of the tower which was only one single huge room. The room was still somewhat divided into a higher and a lower section. The lower part where he stood was the main section of the room, a laboratory with all kinds of vials and dried plants, but also cages with small and not so small beasts, beasts he had never seen before. The higher part was more like a brigde that led from one end to the other, and this is where Ildechai stood upon. ”I wonderrred what took you so long” - ”You will pay for your crimes wizard!” - ”I don’t think so” he said and waved with his hand. At the same time, a large piece of cloth slid from the biggest cage and revealed sight upon a beast that led even Banzanifal’s hairs stand up! It was unbelievably big, weighing several tons, with red eyes and viscious claws, but the teeth were the worst of it! That, and perhaps the fact that it hadn`t eaten in a long time. Another wave of Ildechai’s hand opened the gate and the monster instantly burst out and towards Banzanifal! Banzanifal was astonished by the sheer speed of this weird breed, he had no time to draw his weapon, no time to evade, not even time to think, so his hand came up in a reflexive maneuver and released those razorsharp shards in the blink of an eye. An eye was the keyword for those shards flew directly into them, blinding the beast and making it howl out in agony!! This reflex was what prolonged Banzanifal’s life for another second and gave him the opportunity to reach into the deepest regions of his mind to tap his rawest energies! For a second, he heard, saw, felt everything around him, the agony of the beast infront of him, the mad “KILL HIM KILL HIM” screams of Ildechai high on the bridge, his beating heart, the evilness in his mind, his mind… Banzanifal reached out for the mage’s mind like infront of the tower, but Ildechai was prepared this time! He resisted with all his genius, all his willpower until he and Banzanifal were evenly matched and the paladin knew, he couldn`t afford a draw now. Conjuring pictures of Catherina to his mind, images of the metal golem that crushed her to death, broke her little bones, tore out her limbs,…anger! Rage! And then, Banzanifal focused all this into one single blast and send it up towards Ildechai who was so stunned that he could just hold his head with both his hands to keep it from exploding. All that happened in less than a second. Ildechai stumbled around on the bridge, back and forth while the monster clawed madly into the air, then the mage toppled over and fell the 15ft down onto the lower section of the room. Banzanifal rolled sideward to evade certain death, grasped one of the ropes dangling from the ceiling, and with a wellplaced cut he released a counterweight and the rope catapulted him like a makeshift elevator upward onto the bridge. Of course Ildechai wasn`t dead from the fall, but he had broken his left leg on impact. But Ildechai didn`t even realize that for he had only eyes – wide eyes – for his own (blinded) creation that opened its mouth unnaturally wide and descended down on the helpless wizard, swallowing him whole …well, half, and this was a sight Banzanifal would never forget until the end of his days… |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 10:21 PM | The portly man pulled his feather-lined cloak tighter around his head. He squinted into the gray hued horizon, but knew, through years of traveling this same trail from Seven Strides to Gladius in wintertime, that he was indeed on the right trail. The thick snowfall that was consistent to the northern region, made visibility horrible to the untrained traveler, but one accustomed to the climate, such as this man, knew well when to advance and when to stay put and weather the storm. He brushed a light snowflake that fluttered too closely to his eye, then looked back at the party he was leading. It was not so much a party as a single man. And he was not so much a man as an angel of legend. The man knew, only too well, the awe-inspiring glory of this angel. The man, a well-traveled merchant from the village of Seven Strides, witnessed the match of Ixenthor, he knew a being of Ixenthor’s holy magnitude could cut the tension in his humble hamlet. He took a big risk bringing someone like Ixenthor into the town, but he hoped with all of his heart that what he was doing would work out for everyone. Ixenthor himself followed the man wordlessly, tugging along his shadowbeast. He wore his usual clothes and did not feel motivated to change for the colder weather. In reality, the cold in this region did not bother Ixenthor at all. His celestial blood and physique guarded well against damaging cold. It would take a far stronger and frostier gale to affect the archangel. Though he knew himself to be fine against the element, he also knew that the guiding merchant, along with his own shadowbeast and dinosaur, were not. “FOR YOUR SAFETY For your safety, WE SHOULD REST AND TAKE SHELTER FOR A WHILE We should rest and take shelter for a while,” he said out loud, in his hypnotizing, yet melodic dual-tone voice. “It’s only a few hours more,” the man started, “we can still – brr!” A sudden piercing wind sheared his words as he stood in place trying to withstand it all. “NO No. YOUR SAFETY IS IMPORTANT HERE Your safety is important here,” Ixenthor insisted. The man cast a quick look his way as the words struck him harder than the cold. He was amazed that someone as renowned and prestigious as Ixenthor would still empathize and feel concern for a lowly merchant out a village in the middle of nowhere. “Truly a great being,” he thought, as he suddenly felt a bit warmer inside. He nodded to acknowledge Ixenthor’s sentiments and moves swiftly to set up camp. He dropped his packed, picked a nearby spot suitable for a small tent, then organized everything in a matter of minutes. The shadowbeast and deinoychus were well wrapped in dry, warm blankets, and put in another tent. Ixenthor and the merchant shared another tent as they took a small rest break and regain some energy and warmth. “YOU SAID YOU WOULD DETAIL YOUR VILLAGE’S DISTRESS AT A LATER TIME You said you would detail your village’s distress as a later time. I BELIEVE NOW IS THE TIME I believe now is the time,” Ixenthor stated calmly. The merchant bit into a bit of heated trail rations and nodded as he swallowed it and began to speak in a slight city accent, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Now is a good time to start spilling beans and all that. Well … how to begin … ok, now I’ve got it. As you know, our town or Seven Strides is in trouble. Simply put, we’ve been in trouble before, and it’s always because of this one crazy and sadistic wizard named Ildechai Hazeweaver. That maniac nutcase has been tormenting our simple, peace-loving people for so long. You might think we would have all left that god-forsaken place by now, but that blasted mage keeps us all in check with some of his feral “experiments” running around our town, killing any who try to escape. We’re lucky he lets merchants come to and from town, but that’s it. Sometimes a stray adventuring party comes in, but he loves to test his strength and brains by again letting loose his crazy creations… like that one Ex Nihilo … I hear that machine is actually a registered gladiator now … Almost as crazy as when that Dark Lord Themmez came through here and tore up the place. Now I hear he fights in the arena too…It’s crazy, you see? I am not sure whether that Hazeweaver simply wants to take over the town, or make us go crazy … maybe both.” “WAIT Wait,” Ixenthor commanded quickly, sounding suddenly intrigued, “THE FOUL DARK LORD STILL WALKS The foul dark lord still walks? OUR LAST ENCOUNTER SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE LAST Our last encounter should have been the last. I SEE I see, THINGS ARE DANGEROUS INDEED IN YOUR TOWN Things are dangerous indeed in your town. I SWEAR UPON THE FIRST ORDER OF SERAPHIM I swear upon the first order of seraphim, ILDECHAI WILL FALL Ildechai will fall.” Ixenthor seemed to glow as he spoke his vow. Corona, his legendry sword, still in its scabbard, almost seemed sentient as it too glowed a little brighter. The man truly believed an end to suffering was at hand now. He blew into his hands, now inspired by Ixenthor’s words, and was similarly determined to help his people as soon as possible. The sooner he led Ixenthor to Seven Strides, the sooner the liberation, or, as Ixenthor loved to say, “conviction”, would begin. Something in the back of his mind bubbled up to memory, and the man found himself saying, “Note this too, Hazeweaver is dabbling in chronomancy or something like that. Some say he can appear in two places at the same time now. I know I don’t have to warn you to be careful, but I want you to be prepared, Sir Ixenthor.” “YOUR WISDOM IN SEEKING ME OUT WAS WELL PLACED Your wisdom in seeking me out was well placed. THE EVILDOER WILL NOT PROCEED TO BE A MENACE FOR LONG, BE ASSURED The evildoer will not proceed to be a be a menace for long, be assured,” Ixenthor said with a confident nod of his hooded head. The merchant agreed and grinned sincerely. Several hours passed by and the duo was out crunching in the snow again. A new layer of snow had settled in, erasing all of their old tracks, but the village was in view now, so they were not lost. Fortunately, the day was clear, as opposed to the snowstorm they weathered last night, so the going went smoothly. The merchant was hailed as he approached his village, though Ixenthor’s presence was immediately noticed. Several villagers stopped what they were doing, and looked at the man, garbed in white and gold, toting a cloud-like beast of purple and black shadow and mist. Fairly soon a crowd came up around Ixenthor and the merchant, and several murmurs erupted simultaneously. The merchant held up his hands in surrender in effort to calm the crowd down, but it was intervention of a town bard who sung loudly, almost as if enchanted to amplify his volume, a recited a verse from ancient holy texts: Unus quisnam mos vindico nos ut salus portans a partis of sol solis ut suus telum mos premo totus obscurum in pectus pectoris quod viscus quod succurro restituo bonus ut suus officium in is plagiarius. [the one who will deliver us to salvation, carrying a shard of the sun as his weapon, will strike down all darkness in heart and flesh and help restore good as his duty on this plane] “This legendary warrior is ‘unus quisnam mos vindico nos ut salus’ … ‘the one who will deliver us to salvation,’ ” the bard orated, “I know many of the exploits of this famed fighter, including his valiant efforts to cleanse the city of Gladius of foul-hearted gladiators! And here he is to aid us! Many are the tales of his exploits, BUT! Now is not the time to partake is such storytelling, our champion has been brought to us, and so now he must aid us in these terrible times. Ildecahi will not torment us as mere rats anymore!” Several cheers rang out. After the cheering subsided, they all looked to Ixenthor, who stood there silently through it all, and waited for him to respond to the warm reception. Ixenthor himself was used to being consistently praised for his exploits of good by the more mundane folk, but he took it with gratitude nonetheless. He drew Corona, the shard of sun the verse mentioned, and let it catch and reflect the morning sun. “GOOD PEOPLE Good people, I WILL PURGE THIS VILLAGE OF THE PLAGUE OF EVIL I will purge this village of the plague of evil. HAVE FAITH IN THE CELESTIAL FORCES Have faith in the Celestial Forces, AND WE WILL ALWAYS HELP YOU WHEN CALLED and we will always help you when called,” Ixenthor boomed with his unique vocalization. Again more rings sounded out, but they soon seemed to warp in harmony. Ixenthor frowned, as he saw the world around him turn brown, then warp as light would under a bent mirror. The people of Seven Strides suddenly seemed frozen in place as their texture of reality began to bend inward upon itself. Ixenthor was beginning to wonder what was going on when suddenly a temporal rift opened up in front of him, and Ildechai Hazeweaver himself stepped out. Ixenthor somehow knew this was the evil chronomancer the townsfolk spoke of, and was about to speak to the mage, when suddenly a second Ildechai stepped out of the rift. Ixenthor nearly did a double take, as his otherworldly senses felt that these were both Ildecahi, yet there was no magical illusion in place here. Finally, a machine man, the Ex Nihilo the merchant spoke of earlier, stepped behind the second, slightly weaker-looking Ildechai and looked grimly at Ixenthor with both arms folded across his chest. “Ah, so this is the mighty and prestigious warrior Ixenthor,” Ildechai said, looking quite unimpressed. “We can use his anatomy in a few of our experiments,” Ildechai’s double said, circling around the original and looking analytically at Ixenthor, “We do not get many opportunities to study celestial bodies, unfortunately.” “Indeed,” Ildechai said, looking into Ixenthor’s face and sensing confusion from it towards the twins. “My timespliced image,” he said, answering the unspoken question, “I managed to obtain a tome of chronomancy, and found the study quite astounding.” His double grinned. “…and very dangerous,” he added. “For example,” Ildechai said, suddenly beginning to pace away from the readying celestial battler, “Here is the timespliced image of the famed Gladius Arena, from two weeks ago, transposed right here in the middle of this pathetic town. I don’t believe the Past will be having much use for it.” He raised his arms, and suddenly Ixenthor and his mount, and both Ildechai’s, were standing in the starting positions of the coliseum. The townsfolk were in the stands, as well, but they were still frozen in time. “Additionally, though it takes much effort, I find I can collapse temporal matter between two subjects, thus erasing them from the universal timeline…” He summoned the fabled tome of time from his hand, read a bit from it, and then pointed his finger to the guiding merchant and town bard whom Ixenthor had just encountered. Immediately the two figures, still time-locked, levitated up, aimed towards each other, then raced into a gigantic collision which resulted in sizable silent explosion. Ixenthor looked through the dazing light of the explosion to see that both men were no longer there. “Ah, well that went better than expected,” the double said smirking, “Two more useless lives made significant in the advancement of magic.” Both Ildechai’s chuckled in stereo at this outcome. They both stopped chuckling as soon as they heard an angry, dual-toned voice boom from the other side of the arena. “FOOLS Fools! YOU WILL TOY WITH LIVES NO LONGER You will toy with lives no longer AND YOUR TIME FOR FORGIVENESS IF OVER and your time for forgiveness is over! PREPARE TO ACCEPT CONVICTION Prepare to accept conviction!” The wind seemed to ripple around the twin mages every time the archangel spoke, but they nodded to each other, already with a plan in mind with their two brilliant minds in action. The crowd suddenly seemed to slowly reanimate as they all suddenly began to wonder in sync how they got to be where they were. Their attention was quickly diverted as they noticed the two powers clash. “He is a fool is he thinks he can instruct us on how to conduct our experiments,” the double said as he casually pointed at the original Ildechai and forged sturdy armor on him out of raw magical force. “I will move back and strke him from behind as he closes in,” he whispered to Ildechai as he stepped back and masterfully flung his cloak around him, as blended in perfectly with the nearby large rock. Ildechai looked down on the bronze figurine. He considered using the same tactic he used against a recent assassin, and deduced that the griffon’s speed in power would be ample enough to interrupt the twin’s synchronization and overpower them physically. He then spurred his mount to hop forward then take wing as it darted around the transposed pillars, and came into view of only a single Ildechai. Ixenthor tossed his figurine intot he air, and summoned the allied grifffon forward with its keyword and name. The familiar golden sphere laced with streamers of black and surrounded by a gray mist exploded in midair. The griffon within sensed the plan before hand and needed little instruction from Ixenthor. The archangel merely pointed down to Ildechai, and the griffon dove down upon the prey. Ildechai saw this series of events, but could only put up with arms up in a feeble defense as the large magical beast bore down on him. An razor-sharp beak tore into his shoulder and clasped down tight. Ildechai stumbled backwards as two claws dug into his hcest, and two hind claws ripped down the length of his legs. “I … needed more time…,” he sputtered out loud, still in shock of the blindingly fast blitzkrieg. Ildechai knew he had no chance of outwrestling the mighty beast, so he instead gambled on the scroll he had quickly brought in hand before the fight. As he started to read form the scroll, he was suddenly interrupted by the searing pain of his shoulder being dislocated and collarbone being shattered by the beak near his neck. “ PITIFULLY IRONIC Pitifully ironic,” Ixenthor said form atop his bat-like shadowbeast, “A SUPPOSED TIME MAGE WISHING FOR MORE TIME A supposed time mage wishing for more time.” The double, still well hidden behind the rock, winced as he too somehow felt the pain a little more than empathically. He gritted his teeth and knew he had to incapacitate the griffon if the original Ildechai had any chance of surviving his battle. He also was fully aware that any offensive actions he may have took would negate his concealed presence. His attachment to the idea of self-preservation, even if his ‘self’ was another body altogether, dominated, and he opted to help out his other self. He stepped out form his cloak, glared at the griffon, and brought forth a few small tokens that would make any human drop to the ground, helpless in laughter, but would be risky if used on a beast. pon seeing the hidden Double resurface, Ixenthor held up Cornona high, gaining many cheers from the crowd. The archangel paused for a fraction fo a second, seeming to summon forth the power to the mighy sun itself in his sword, as it flared to life in a brilliant wave of heat and light. Ixenthor himself seemd to glow with more pronounced prominence as he brought Corona behind his back, winding up for a tremendously power swing. For the double, one who was displaced in time originally, time itself seemed to slow as Ixenthor descended upon him. In a single smooth and fluid movement, Ixenthor rose high in the saddle of his shadowbeast, outstretched his wings to his full wingspan, and leaped off of his mount. The crowd gasped as he twirled in midair, performing a 1080-degree spin as he fell upon the double-image of Ildechai. With a righteous cry to the heavens Ixenthor finally brought down his illuminating weapon, and it connected solidly with the body of Ildechai’s double. No one witnessed the incredible explosion of the released energy within the sword, except for Ixenthor himself. The crowd shielded their eyes against the blinding light of the erupting energy and the entire timespliced arena rumbled as the explosive shockwaves proceeded to shake its foundations. Erratic fissures in the hit burst out randomly and courses along the arena floors and walls, snaking along and leaving crevasses in their wake. The main pillar to the coliseum itself endured a tremendous crack in its center for its entire height, but fortunately it continued to hold. Ixenthor was suspended in midair by the sheer power of his attack, as the ground gave way in a crater benath him. As the energy fadedout, he knew the timespliced image of Ildechai was killed far before his attack was over. He was satisfied by the attack, a testament to his power, and the people in the stands agreed as they erupted in gleeful cheers. He patted Corona on the side, and walked out of the crater he created. A quick survey of the scene showed that his slash actually crumbled a thin layer of the entire arena. “GOOD THING IT WAS NOT THE REAL ARENA Good thing it was not the real arena,” he allowed himself to joke. As the image was completely annihilated, the real Ildechai could only look, while in pain, as his prized experiment was obliterated in a single swing of a sword. He cursed a thousand times in a single second at Archangel Ixenthor for entering his life. In the back of his mind, he knew Ixenthor had not really won. The timespliced image was really sent back to its original time stream upon destruction, similar to how a summoned creature returns to its native plane upon defeat. Similarly, Ildecahi could always read from the tome of time and shear time-space again, pulling forth another past version of himself whenever he wanted … and he smirked. “Ixenthor will not have the last laugh,” he thought, as his eyes clouded over and the world faded into darkness. The mighty griffon, dazzled by the impact but still focused on the task at hand, knelt forward and neatly snapped Ildechai’s neck. The time mage fell limp, and the griffon left him for dead. In reality, though the mage was truly defeated this time round, he was not dead. Apparently, the dark clouds over Seven Strides could not be blown away so easy, no matter how strong the sun. The People of Seven Strides continued to cheer heartily for the winner of the fight. All faces memorized the calm and commanding visage of their champion, and all wished Ixenthor the best congratulations. All persons, that is … except for one … a very nonhuman one who, at this moment, was making his way to the fighter in the middle of the arena with malevolent intentions in mind… |
| Scribelords08-27-05, 10:55 PM | Ixenthor allowed his shadow-beast bat to be led away by animal care specialists. The people in the village were overjoyed at the knowledge that the time wizard Ildechai had been swiftly, and deftly, chastised by the good archangel. Several wealthier villagers offered bids on Ixenthor’s sword, believing it to possess some sort of power capable of repeling the powerful wizard. Ixenthor nodded acceptingly as he patted the side of Corona once again. “TO BUY CORONA IS TO BUY THE SUN ITSELF To buy Corona is to buy the sun itself, IMPOSSIBLE Impossible,” He said in reply to their bargains. A few of them were even starting to ask for Ixenthor as a permanent bodyguard, but a quick glare from the Archangel quieted the outrageous requests. Instead, the more sincere supporters cheered on Ixenthor, while the village bards swapped notes on their view of the battle, simultaneously composing a tale to be told for ages. Ixenthor looked to the ceiling of the transposed arena, and saw that part of the ceiling had crumbled away. He wondered if the displaced locale would simple revert back to its rightful place in time, or if it was an instantaneous, and therefore irreversible, effect. While he buried himself in quiet thought, a hand clasped on his shoulder. However, to Ixenthor, the grip was not a friendly one. It was solid, controlled, and cold. Ixenthor turned about to face the barrel-chested mechanical man he spotted before. Ixenthor felt no hostility from the creature, but additionally he felt nothing at all from the machine. “EX NIHILO Ex Nihilo, DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO AVENGE YOUR MASTER do not feel obligated to avenge your master. I HAVE NO QUALMS WITH YOU I have no qualms with you, SO DO NOT FORCE ME TO FIGHT YOU so do not force me to fight you,” he said, diplomatically, in his dual-tone manner. Most of the villages were backing away from the two already, sensing that the skirmish in Seven Strides was not over. “I understand, Archangel Ixenthor,” Ex Nihilo said, in a surprisingly warm tone that sounded understanding and a little regretful, “however, despite my inclinations not to fight, it is in my programming to fight you on my master’s behalf. Any second now, the auto-defense protocol will kick in and I will fight you no matter what. It therefore seems you have no choice but to fight me.” Ixenthor chanced a moment to consider the alternatives. Normally it was he who hunted his targets and persecuted them, but this time he would have to play defensively. Something was missing from the picture, though, but Ixenthor could not place his finger on it. “TELL ME Tell me, EX NIHILO Ex Nihilo,DO YOU HAVE A SOUL do you have a soul?” he asked, “ARE YOU TRULY LIVING IN THAT SHELL OF STEEL Are you truly living in that shell of steel?” Ex Nihilo turned and looked at Ixenthor in the eyes, gazing at him with pale, blank red eyes, “Is that so relevant? Is there really a soul? If so, does having one justify a life? Humans and other carbon-based life forms all seem to think their biology is the standard for all life. Do you not believe me that, thought created, I am a life of my own?” Ixenthor absorbed his words, “SO BE IT So be it,” he replied, “YOU WILL HAVE YOUR FIGHT AGAISNT ME You will have your fight against me, THOUGH I FIGHT NOT TO PURGE YOU though I fight not to purge you.” He thought he saw Ex Nihilo smile, but saw that his rigid steel skin could not bend to form one. Suddenly, Ex Nihilo’s eyes flared up. It’s voice changed to a higher pitched, more monotonous, tone, “Exectuing Emergency Procedure: Oblivion. Prepare to be exterminated. Loading Arena data…” Then, unexpectedly, Ex Nihilo ran away from Ixenthor, and assumed a defensive posture in the starting position where Ildechai once stood. “HE’S TREATING THIS LIKE AN OFFICIAL MATCH He’s treating this like and official match,” Ixenthor said beneath his breath, “HE HAD LIKELY ANALYZED MY PREVIOUS AIRBORNE TACTICS He has likely analyzed my previous airborne tactics, IT WOULD BE BEST TO CHANGE THEM NOW it would be best to change them now.” Ixenthor then beckoned a local stableman to fetch his deinonychus mount and bring it to him. Once the dino was next to Ixenthor, Ixenthor told it to attack the mechanical man no matter what. After indicating who that was, the predator growled in acknowledgement. Ixenthor then asked all villagers to return to a safe spot so that he may end this expected turn of events. Almost all of them returned to the stands to watch the new fight, but somehow, they all felt this match would be more strenuous… Both the angel and warmachine reacted at the same time, but exceeding them both was the speedy dinosaur. With a screech it ran forward at top speed, leaping over any and all obstructions short of the pillars, and arrived within sight of Ex Nihilo in a matter of seconds. Not so far behind, Ixenthor ran towards Ex Nihilo’s position, determined to get a visual confirmation of him. However, he had no intention of hoofing it entirely, nor engaging the steel being in pure melee. He sensed the inhuman strength of raw steel, so he could just imagine how strong sentient steel was. He soon unfolded his wings as he ran, and it immediately it created drag, slowing him down. However, with a single flap, he was soon reaching a velocity twice that of his land speed. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Ex Nihilo. Ex Nihilo quickly calculated the strength of the dino, and deemed it no match compared to himself. However, what had it worried was the fact that Ixenthor was not yet attacking. He expected him to utilize his griffon to attack him in the first wave of offense, like last time, but this was not so. Not taking any chances, Ex Nihilo’s internal processors fortified his circuits in order to endure heavier hits. Wishing to not leave himself exposed in the open, Ex Nihilo got his back to a rock, and readied himself for the first strike. The deinoychus came first, screeching in ferocity, and charged forth. It’s razor sharp toe-claws extended, it pounced upon Ex Nihilo, with jaws open, fore arms reaching, and talons raised. However, before it connected, Ex Nihilo suddenly snapped up his arms, thrust a flat palm up, and slammed it into the airborne dino. Unable to dodge the blow in midair, the dinosaur was thrown back to its feet, but it’s attack was cancelled. With Ex Nihilo’s most guarded side facing it, it could not easily penetrate his defenses. Seeing his deinonychus, though fast, could not match Ex Nihilo’s strength, Ixenthor clenched his griffon statue and prepared to summon it, even though he knew Ex Nihilo was probably expecting it. The familiar cloud of gold and black smoke issued forth, and immediately the griffon came to the service and aid of its caller. Ixenthor merely had to point to Ex Nihilo, and the griffon knew what to do. It too dove down, all clawed appendages outstretched. As it neared striking distance to its prey Ex Nihilo suddenly shifted forward with incredible reflexes and struck fist with a devastating uppercut. The hit stopped the magical beast in its tracks, but not it’s attack. The griffon’s hind legs touched ground and dug in as it swiftly recovered from the hit and slashed with both of its forearms. Shockingly, Ex Nihilo matched speed with the griffon, catching both arms near the joint, halting both grabs. Not letting go, Ex Nihilo suddenly leapt up into the air, in place and still with a hold of the griffon’s arms. He shot out both legs into the griffon at point blank range, aiming for the vital areas in its large neck, and just barely hitting its large windpipe. Both steel legs connected and the griffon’s eyes bulged as it lost all breath immediately, not to mention seeing stars. With a back flip to his original position, Ex Nihilo let go of the stunned beast and turned to face Ixenthor, still in midair. Not recognizing the full finesse of the attack just performed, the deinonychus did recognize and opportunity to attack while the mechanical man was not focused on it. It gave a short hop and then clenched onto Ex Nihilo’s back. It’s talons sunk into his spine as it’s arms gained a clawed grip and it teeth bit deep onto his shoulder. Though not revealing it on the outside, Ixenthor was very impressed by Ex Nihilo’s melee prowess. He knew that would have to be stifled if he were to finished him off, so he unhooked his prismatic bow, Rainbow, from his shoulder, and moved in closer. As he neared, he tapped into his learned psionic energy and gathered forth ectoplasmic goop. He directed the wad of astral residue towards the machine monk, and knew that if it connected, the slime would greatly reduce Ex Nihilo’s swift and powerful movements, the key to its attacks. He watched as a the goo dropped down onto Ex Nihilo, but was again surprised as the monk twirled in place and still managed to dodge the sticky projectile despite the dinosaur on his back. Noting the radically rising danger surrounding him, Ex Nihilo decided to deal with the immediate threats first. He delivered a swift punch to the dino on his shoulder, giving it a bloody nose, and forcing it off of him. He then followed up with a circle kick to the griffon, which connected solidly with the still-dazed beast. The overwhelming impact proved too much for the griffon as it was forced to retreat to its home on the astral plane. It’s physical form gave way to a purple silhouette of smoke that quickly evaporated into nothingness. Behind the smoke was a slightly surprised, but still lethal, Ex Nihilo. The deinonychus now unleashed its primal fury upon Ex Nihilo, but as the only attacker, the steely-fisted monk only needed one arm to block the entirety of the carnivore’s attacks. He did not even have to move from his spot as Ex Nihilo blocked with one arm, and used the other arm to taunt Ixenthor. He beckoned with his hands in an expression that cleared said, “Bring it.” [Dino attacks Ex Nihilo, Attack 9,7,8,9 vs AC 16, (all miss)] Ixenthor narrowed his eyes in response. Never had he faced someone who could repel both his griffon with such ease, much less the two allies at the same time. Fortunately, Ixenthor knew that the griffon could be summoned again, although it was likely tired from its recent defeat. Nonetheless, he needed its aid and so he called upon his friend. The gold-black sphere of smoke, the portal to the astral home of the griffon, opened up, and the griffon came down again, ready for a rematch in the Material Plane. The griffon dove down again towards Ex Nihilo. The monk intercepted the attack in the exact same way as last time, but this time the griffon learned from the last time. It rolled a little with the punch, and managed to clasp Ex Nihilo’s arm before he recovered from the punch. It batted Ex Nihilo with its other claw, but Ex Nihilo blocked with a elbow. With strength beyond any human, both inhuman combatants were now locked in a mighty grapple. Sensing the griffon was reading his moves from last time, Ex Nihilo’s attack algorithm shifted to introduce this new variable. The monk now aimed for the abdominal vital areas and flew forth with a stabbing one-two combo into the griffon’s belly. The half-bird, half-lion shrieked as it now cringed in unstoppable pain. Try as it could, it simply could not focus in order to endure the hit and was paralyzed yet again. The single-track dinosaur continued to attack relentlessly, but Ex Nihilo would not be caught off guard again. He used his legs this time to trip up the dinosaur and defend against all attacks. Only a minor slash was scored against Ex Nihlio, but his body small auto-repair system had already removed the damage. Above him, Ixenthor had ready another blob of sticky goop. This time he aimed very carefully, and fired it with impressive velocity. The blob hit the monk and exploded on impact, coated his joints and limbs with the green, sticky slime. Ex Nihilo tried to scrape the stuff off, but found his movements impaired substantially. He knew it would take some time for it to be completely remove, but did not wish to sacrifice too much time for that cause. Still focused on the task at hand, Ex Nihilo announced one of the special martial art attacks programmed in his mainframe. “Shifting sands…” he started, as he shoved the dazed griffon upward with one palm, “…Falling Dune!” he shouted as he leapt upward, whiled in midair above the griffon, and channeled his angular velocity into a two-handed club from which he slammed down into the griffon’s neck. The beast immediately flew down into the ground with a sickening crunch and moaned only once before being dismissed back to his home plane. Ex Nihilo regained his poise as he again cast a glare with his two red-hot glowing eyes. The deinonychus and Ex Nihilo exchanged blows, but it was evident the monk had the upper hand. After the dino’s last lunge with it’s bite, Ex Nihilo ducked and circled around it, and grabed its tail. The dinosaur’s eyes gained a panicked expression, as it now knew it was in serious trouble. Ixenthor knew trouble was coming too, but there was little he could do to help his dinosaur friend form his current position. He instead prayed for his welfare as he showered himself and his soon-to-be-extinct ally wth bountiful blessings. [Ixenthor casts bless on himself and dino ally] With a firm grip on the doomed dinosaur, Ex Nihilo now lifted the dinosaur in the air, threw it, and announced another attack. “Moving clouds…,” he began, as he slapped the dinosaur to the side, then heeled it prepare for its next hit, “Ominous Storm!” he shouted as he focused energy to the tips of his fingers, and he jabbed the dinosaur squarely in the chest. The light in the predator’s eyes left as it spiraled to the ground with a loud crash, unconscious before it could feel the impact. With both allies down and out, there was now only one more foe registered in Ex Nihilo’s Mind. Ixenthor tucked his bow to one side as he gave a short clap, “IMPRESSIVE SKILLS EX NIHILO Impressive skills Ex Nihilo,” Ixenthor praised, truly respectful for his opponent’s strength, “LONG HAS IT BEEN WHERE I HAVE BATTLED ONE OF YOUR MAGNITUDE Long has it been where I have battled one of your magnitude. YOUR CREATOR WOULD HAVE BEEN PROUD Your creator would have been proud.” As he spoke, he slowly drifted upward and tapped on a small lizard tattoo on his upper arm. Immediately his skin changed palette, shifting to match that of Ixnehtor’s immediate surroundings. Down below, Ex Nihilo tried to follow Ixenthor’s movements, but made no move to follow just yet. Instead, he wisely activated a catalyst to his auto-repair sequence, and waited awhile as several of his wounds and scrapes were stabilized. Ixenthor now adopted a serious expression, as he knew he would have to outsmart the technical logic Ex Nihilo possessed. His hand dipped across his belt and brought forth a special elixir. He popped the top and chugged the small vial, allowing his skin to now turn nigh-invisible. Even those in the crowd, following the archangel’s every movement, would have sworn that Ixenthor had turned invisible just now. Now ready to give chase, Ex Nihilo struggled against the bonds of the ectoplasm as he moved forward. As he did so, a small compartment in his right forarm opened opened up. A light, collapsible crossbow unfolded and assembled itself with Ex Nihilo’s attention. Soon enough, it was ready to fire upon the monk’s airborne target, as soon as he got within range. With a small prayer on his lips, Ixenthor asked his patron deity to supply him with strength and accuracy to defeat his opponent. He acknowledged that his plan, already in motion, would likely work, but would still take some welcome help. As he prayed he dipped behind a nearby stone pillar and blended in to its texture while Ex Nihilo could not see him. Ex Nihilo’s scanners could no longer sense the presence of Ixenthor, given both distance, and the angel’s exceptional ability to hide. With caution, the metallic monk moved closer as fast as he could and as carefully as he could. The bindings Ixenthor had put on him still slowed him. Ixenthor took a deep breath as he readied himself for the sniping he was about to commence. By his own logic, he knew Ex Nihilo’s style of fighting always taught its disciples how to deflect arrows as a basic skill. However, Ixenthor knew the defender had to be aware of the attack. Thus, after he would spring from hiding, he would be able to get the jump on a surprised Ex Nihilos, and pierce him with deepcrystalized arrows. As he planned, Ixenthor leaned over the edge of the pillar, silently notched and arrow, and allowed his psionic power to coat the arrow in a fluid, yet solid material known as deepcrytsal. He aimed carefully and let loose the arrow. With a trail of blue sparkles behind it, the arrow came to Ex Nihilo before he could react to it, even with his normal speed. The now rock-solid shaft sunk deep into Ex Nihilo’s chest, and a few sparks issued forth from the wound. Back behind the pillar, Ixenhtor knew Ex Nihilo now knew where he was hiding , but still could be caught off guard if Ixenthor did a good job of re-hiding. However, as well as Ixenthor hid, Ex Nihilo’s sensors were better, spotting the angel behind the pillar. To his fortune, the last of the ectoplasmic goop was removed from his body, and he could now move freely again. He ran towards Ixenthor’s position, and indeed find him readjusting himself. He raised his arm, locked onto his target, and fired a bolt at Ixenthor’s head. Ixenthor, though, saw the attack coming, and before the shaft struck him between the eyes, his defensive mind powers erected a deep-blue buffering shield between himself and the bolt at the last second. The bolt was slowed to a stop, and then dropped to the floor harmlessly below. Unscathed, Ixenthor grinned. Now aware that Ex Nihilo could match him in ranged combat, Ixenthor swooped down to Ex Nihilo’s positions. He focused a bit of his psionic energy into the tips of his fingers, then shot it out in a thin line towards Ex Nihilo’s arms. Seen only as a ripple on the air, the ray struck Ex Nihilo’s arm-crossbow,and ruptured the mechanism. Now smoking, the arm was useless. However, noting that Ex Nihilo did not even flinch in pain, Ixenthor frowned, “YOU DO NOT FEEL PAIN AND YOU DO NOT BLEED You do not feel pain and you do not bleed, AND YET YOU BELIEVE YOU HAVE A SOUL and yet you believe you have a soul?” Ixenthor questioned, “ANSWER ME Answer me!” Looking down at his now-useless arm, and then back to Ixenthor, Ex Nihilo’s eyes paled back to a dull red as he simply replied, “I do not need to justify my existence with words. I was created, simply put. As I said before, a soul is irrelevant. Whether I have one or not is irrelevant.” When he finished speaking, his eyes flared up to it crimson ferocity again and his body continued to work on repairing itself. As a precautionary measure, Ex Nihilo took a step over and partially shielded himself with the same pillar the flying foe was next to as well. Ducking to his side, Ixenthor broke line of sight and hid again. Not satisfied with his answer, Ixenthor then asked himself if the creature he was fighting had morales. If it did, then did it care? If so, then did it have a metaphorical “heart”? Not willing to be caught off-guard again. Ex Nihilo assumed a defensive stance and prepared to dart behind the full cover of the pillar should he see Ixenthor attack again. Creeping behind the pillar silently, Ixenthor was pleased to see he had caught Ex Nihilo unattentive in his direction. With another deepcrystalized arrow launched at the monk, this time into its side, Ixenthor tried to re-hide. He was too slow and clumsy that time, and he knew it. He only hoped the gods of luck were with him at that moment. He doubted Ex Nihilo could withstand another attack. Weighing all of its options. The metal monk decided it ws best to hold its current course and prepare to guard against another attack again. It ignore the warning messages being sent to its mind and the numerous procedures automatically safeguarding his body against immediate system crash. “MORALS OR NOT Morals or not, IT WAS YOU WHO STARTED THIS FIGHT it was you who started this fight,” Ixenthor said as he slid around the pillar, in full view above and in front of Ex Nihilo, “BUT IT SHALL BE I WHO FINISHES IT But it shall be I who finishes it!” With that cry, he dropped Rainbow, and pulled out his brilliant blade, Corona. He raised Corona high and came slashing down, not fully aware that Ex Nihilo stepped back and almost out of his range. The monk instead brought both arms up in defense, and blocked the blow as the sword connected and cut deep in its arms. A cloud of dust swept past the two of them as the momentum of the hit passed. Ixenthor’s eyes widened, “DID HE BLOCK THAT DIRECT HIT Did he block that direct hit? IMPOSSBILE Impossible…” he thought aloud. He looked at EX Nihilo, expecting him to counterattack now, but no such action occurred. He stepped back, and still the monk did not move at all. Testy, Ixenthor peered into Ex Nihilo’s eyes and rapped on his steel-plated head. His eyes were solid black now, the light form them gone, and he felt no movements of gears inside his head. Evidently, the deflection took the very last drop of energy from Ex Nihilo. The silent crowd waited for the judgment call as Ixenthor sheated his sword. Next, Ixenthor swiftly flew to his dinosaur mount and revived it with his holy healing magic when it was on the brink of death, and he was relieved. Louldy he announced, “NOT CONVICTED Not convicted, BUT BEATEN but beaten… IT IS OVER it is over.” Finally able to release their suppressed cheers, the crowds exploded in joy and relief. The partying began immediately and lasted well into the next day with Ixenthor being the guest of honor. No one noticed a few hairy beasts slip in, steal the bodies of Ildechai and Ex Nihilo, and bring them back to his lair for resuscitation. None save Ixenthor that is, but he allowed it to slide, knowing that if there were ever trouble in this town again, he would personally come back and deal with it He only hoped the mage had learned his lesson. By Ixenthor’s command, an honorary memorial was crafted for the merchant and bards who were killed in the struggle, for it was their efforts that allowed Ixenthor to reign triumphant in his last battle. Ixenthor still had many more questions concerning the troubles besieging Seven Strides, but chose to continue the investigation after all of the people ended their merriment. The false arena also disappeared the next day, as mysterious an event as whence it came, but not one minded much. The bards of the land, now free to leave the town , did so and were all to eager to retell the tale of how the legendary warrior, Ixenthor, came to Seven Strides and personally liberated all there. Humble, Ixenthor accepted the praise, but did not let it go to his head. Instead, when the time had come, he left Seven Strides, both beast companions in tow, and wished the town the best of luck in the future. He reminded them again that if they ever needed help against dark and corrupt forces, to call again upon the Celestial Forces. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 10:55 AM | The Year of Hell Eleasias (August) Thick black clouds covered the sky as far as the eye could see and even though the sun was completely blocked, it was almost constantly bright enough to see normally with the unusually frequent lightning bolts that coursed through the sky, and sometimes even hit something – or someone – unfortunate. The temperature has long since dropped near-freezing point but that was the least of the problems the citizen of Gladius had. The iron fist of King Angosh weighed heavy on the city, expressing itself in insane taxes, people being enslaved and forced to work in mines, the prohibition of any wealth other than the basic needs to survive (and sometimes not even this), and a lot of other things. The once bustling city of Gladius has grown quiet. Thousands of corpses littered the outskirts of the city, all of them soldiers of the Gladiosian army, and of those armies from neighboring cities that came to free the City of the Gladiators. They had all died. Futilely. Angosh stood infront of a huge window in the highest tower of his new palace, and watched over his city. “Bring me something to eat, ye dolt!” Angosh yelled at the starving man infront of him who could barely stand on his feet, something he had to do for 2 days now. He had been told that his family would by killed if he falls asleep or even ceases to stand on his feet. And of course he hasn’t been given anything to eat in the last few days but this was exactly how Angosh prefered his servants, and the sadistic glee in his eyes upon looking at the poor man who happened to be the former lord of this palace made his heart leap in joy. Angosh was clad in a golden plate that radiated an aura of power that pushed bystanders down to their knees if they came too close. A diamond-crown sat on his ugly head where lumps of greasy hair hang down – its yellow corona illuminated the whole throneroom, and in his hand he held a brilliant scepter that resembled a sun. The whole glory of the one known as Angosh was more than enough to beat regular mortals, and the powers he possessed dealt with the rest. Yes, he was King of Gladius, and no one will ever be able to change this! Hammer (January) „Ladiiiies and Gentlemen, today we present you another breathtaking fight fight of brain against brawn! In the red corner… smaller than your son but weighing more than 250 pounds, the aweful, disgusting, eeeeevil spiked-chain canon AAAAAAANNNNGGOOOSSSHHHH!!!“ *BOOOOOOOOO* “And in the blue corner, weighing not even half of Angosh but feared and known for his spellpower, far and near, riding a majestic steed, the Angosh-killing lord of the elements… Heinrich!!” ”I don’t know what this moderator is talking about, I mean, come on, it’s Angosh! The only race he is doing is the one of the most bumps and he leads this one! Even Pard pales against that one” – ”Nah Fred, come on, give him a chance. He might not be the most charismatic one but you shouldn’t underestimate…” *phantomsteedempoweredfireballquickenedm aximizedscorchingraymagicmissile* ”…uh, nevermind. Eleint (September) Deep in the ruins of the once magnificent marble castle of the Celestial Forces was the only resistance left that Gladius had to offer. A handful of righteous people and former gladiators gathered here to hide from the new overlord, and perhaps even do something against him – though the last part was more based on wishful thinking. They worked day and night tirelessly to get through the catacombs that were completely burried when the castle had been destroyed but there was still something down there, something that would help the Resistance. It had been a difficult time for the Resistance. The Celestial Forces were the first who fell to Angosh almost half a year ago and his assault was terrible. In a single day he reduces the headquarter of Gladius’ most powerful organization to rubble, and killed the majority of its members, including their leaders. The standing army of the city followed next, and many gladiators were among them. It took them another hour but finally they broke through the rubble that blocked the tunnels which led to various important places in Gladius, and one of them was connected with the University of Gladius, and this was exactly where they wanted to go. The sewer system below the city wasn’t the cleanest place but it was one of the savest ones compared to the rest. They waded kneedeep in murky water and sometimes things brushed against their legs but that was still much more comfortable than meeting one of the many demons that roam the streets above. Paul Hector, highest ranking member of the Celestial Forces, led the way and though he didn’t know the exact route his self-assurance gave the others a pint of hope though that wasn’t reflected on their faces. It took them longer than expected and they even had to fight a band of wererats which happened to lair here for some time but luckily no one got bitten or otherwise injured and when they finally emerged the Twinkling Dome of the University, and from the Faculty of illusional magic it wasn’t far to Dargenfest Hall. The group of seven found the Professor sitting in his lecturer’s room which was surprisingly intact compared to the rest of the city, but Mr.Dre’Dandrahl wasn’t in such a good shape, not to begin about his mood. ”Visitors? The University is closed for the time being. Seems like Mr.Angosh has no use for educational measures.” – ”Professor! I am Lord Paul Hector of the Gladius Resistance, and we are here to seek your help.” – ”My help? But Mr.Hector, I am just a simple lecturer. How could I be of any help to such a mighty warrior such as you?” – ”Well, you can begin to tell us how Angosh rose to power!” Ban’zanifal said ”Some rumors even tell that you were involved in this coup!” – ”Ah, rumors, so entertaining but spreading quicker than any plague… not that I am planning to spread a plague. Well. Not yet. A-HA-A-HA-HA-HA Just a joke.” – ”Stop this talk Professor. We definitely need information, and you as a Master of Lore will help us!” and Kage’s gaze left little room for debate. Alturiak (February) Angosh entered his home, a tiny hut with leaks everywhere and holes in the ceiling through which the rainfall poured. He has left one of the many temples in the city where he had spent the last week regenerating from his last fight against Heinrich. Oh how he hated that damn elf who carries his nose higher than his forehead. He hated him! Probably not as much as Bruno, that little gnome, or Bilo, or Johan, or anyone else! He hated them all for laughing at him, making jokes about him, the audience, this despiteful bunch of spectators who only come to the arena to see him lose! And if he hated all of them, there is no word for the anger he feels about the pitying looks of these do-gooders like Clio and Ebelin! He will have his revenge. One day, he will pay them back. A small trapdoor build into the regular door like one a cat would use opened and a tiny lilliput – small even for gnome standards – burst through. Raising his hands in enthusiasm it couldn’t decide wether to take a moment to catch his breath or risk fainting away but delivering the great news it was about to bring. It chose the latter and quickly told his master what he had just learned from his latest covert operation. Minimi was as excellent a spy as one can get but unlike most other members of this profession he wasn’t a cunning rogue (though cunning he was) nor was he an insidious assassin, no, a cleric of some unknown deity and combined with his naturally reduced size he put his abilities to good use. Angosh listened carefully to what his cohort reported and his bad mood vanished by the sentence. In the end, a broad smile was on his face and the duo sat down together to discuss their next steps… Flamerule (July) The darkness in the middle of the day was still one of the most comforting things that currently affected Gladius. Demons and other horrible creatures walked the streets where just some months ago a bustling city had been. Undead, corporal and ethereal, feast on the living and dead alike and the stench they are producing was more than enough to fill the whole city with obnoxious fumes that made every man cough. Life has also changed drastically: men were forced to work in mines until they fall down due to starvation or exhaustion at which time they are being fed to one of the carnivore undead – infront of the other miners. A cruel but effective method to raise their motivation. Others were working on the many destroyed buildings or erecting statues of the King, like Grossvater Siegemund, an old and weak man with many children and even more grandchildren. He was a stonemasonary specialized in fine stone sculpting but these days were long over, or so he had thought for no one could’ve known that he had to erect another statue, and one of a duergar at that. Not far away a group of people hid behind some crates while discussing the well-planned strategy. As soon as their leader, a sunelf in shining plate armor, was finished and everyone nodded in approval, the band made their final preparations. ”Ok, so everyone knows what he has to do. Candy, are you sure you want to do that?” - ”Bah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” - ”We’re right behind you so if you get into any trouble…” - ”Ok guys, please stop this talk or I’ll change my mind.” - ”Alright, so it is set then. Good luck Candy.” With almost otherwordly grace Candessa Rain, dressed in her most alluring gown, walked out onto the street and the open place that once was Dweomer Square, filled with all kind of illusions, statues that greeted passerbys, and of course a lot of arcane spellcasters who walked to and fro the Arcane Brotherhood Building that stood on the north exit of the plaza. Candy’s heart beat rapidly but she tried to keep a calm aura as she walked up the steps towards the double doors of the Brotherhood where a handful of lower denizens guarded the entrance. ”STOP MORTAL OR I WILL REND YOUR FLESH FROM YOUR BONES.” a towering glabrezu warned ”ON A SECOND THOUGHT, I MIGHT DO THAT RIGHT NOW ANYWAY” - ”Why the hurry? We could have a bit of fun together first.” That statement surprised the demon for normally humans tend to flee after he announced to tear them appart and Candessa realized his confusion aswell so she thought it would be better to come up with a good explanation ”All my life I have wished to gave birth to an immortal being and here’s my chance now. I am offering myself to you. I will be your slave and can do with me what you want. The only thing is that you must not kill me before my child is born.” The confused look on the glabrezu didn’t vanish, nor that on the other denizens who already began to express their doubts but slowly a wicked grin formed on the glabrezu. ”This is a trick boss! She’s up to something!” - ”SHE IS A MERE MORTAL. WHAT HARM CAN SHE DO TO ME.” and with these words the demon approached her ”STOP! Not here of course! Not infront of your disgusting kin! I give myself to you willingly but at least organize a bed or something!!” The Glabrezu leader thought this over for a second, then ordered to open the magically sealed doors to the Arcane Brotherhood… ”FOR GLADIUUUUUUS!!!!” Skymoon Moonbow yelled, and lead the charge of the three dozen armed men up the stairs to the Brotherhood. Many of them were former gladiators and even the weakest of the group was an elite soldier of the Celestial Forces Guild and more than a match for a lesser demon. The surprise of the demons also helped the attackers, and the first two Babaus fell before they could even raise their claws in defense. The Resistance then fully crashed into the second ranks and tore a whole in their line. ”Wedge formation! Concentrate on the center, then spread out left and right!” and everyone complied. Skymoon himself led the charge and was right now engaged in a battle against an arrow demon who unfortunately just learned the hard way that he should’ve brought a melee weapon with him aswell. His claws seemed to be a good substitute but the time he needed to drop his bows was more than enough for a formidable fighter such as Captain Moonbow who ‘disarmed’ all four of his claws almost simultaneously. ”TREACHERY! I WILL RIP YOUR BONES OUT ONE BY ONE, FEMALE!” but he only got a kneekick from Candessa into a region most men would find uncomforting, to say in the least. It didn’t have the expected result though. ”Ha! I knew you don’t have anything down there! What’s the point in taking me then?” she teased but the huge demon was so full of rage that he didn’t even listen. ”RHOAAARR” and with a viscious downward swing he drew a deep gash across Candy’s back. She cried out in pain but a trained gladiator herself she knew she had to ignore the sting or she would be dead. Dexterous as she was she completed a full spin and appeared right behind the demon, which opened an opportunity to stab her rapier into his back. But as big and bulky the towering fiend was, he possessed a quickness that seemed to be impossible for such a monster. He quickly blocked the weapon, and grabbed the woman with one of his large pincers. ”I WILL NOW CUT YOU IN HALF, MORTAL!” and he increased the grab, blood was already flowing down from her waistline where the razorsharp pincer held her. ”That’s not how you should treat a lady” Mr.Big said from behind the demon, and before the Glabrezu has turned around, he felt a big greatsword slashing once twice across his back. That didn’t kill him of course but he dropped the woman and turned around to face the new threat, if one might call a feeble human that. Mr.Big held his ground for a second but he was no match for a Glabrezu so he was glad when two other soldiers, and finally even Captain Skymoon himself joined the battle. Candessa, who had healed her critical wounds in the meantime, joined in from behind and after what seemed to be an eternity, the fiend fell on the floor and lay still. ”ONWARD!!” Skymoon yelled and the 25 surviving members burst through the open door into the main hall of the Brotherhood. They were met with heavy resistance and the battle was about equal. The demons pounced on them from all sides but their unorganized chaotic style was well countered by the orderly formation of Skymoon’s assault band. Still, it was only a matter of time until the demons overwhelmed them, for there were always new ones coming through one of the many doors. Cliodna d’Elrich sneaked along one of the hallways in the eastern section of the Brotherhood. She had once studied here before she moved into the Celestial Forces HQ so she was best suited for this operation. She rounded another corner and approached the stairs that led down to the cellar complex, her destination, but there were a handful of demons standing infront of the door. She sensed their eagerness for battle; the ring of steel against stell coming from the mainhall tempted them to run there and get their share of mortal blood but apparently they had been given orders to guard this way and fear of their superiors was stronger than the temptation of the kill. She drew in a deep breath, then began her chant. ”OBIDAI VINTURE WANDAT!!” and a small pearlsize object sped into their direction where it burst appart in a circle of white light that blinded those that weren’t banished back to their homeplane. The demons were completely taken by surprise and before the first one acted, they already had to endure another spell, this one raining holy energy on them. Of the ten demons only four remained, and the one that wasn’t blinded telepathically communicated the prescence of a female elven maiden with angel wings standing on the end of the hallway. This was more than enough to make their mouths drip with saliva and with a killing glee they charged into her direction. Though they weren’t able to see anything the sudden increase in brightness was even descernable by them and a splitsecond later a lightning bolt hit them sqarely in the chest and took them either 30ft back or towards their fiery home. ”DIEEE!!” the closest demon snarrled and leapt upon the angelelf… In the Main Hall, the fight had reached its pinnacle! Corpses lay everywhere, and some of them were not demonic in origin. The ranks of the attackers have dwindled down to no more than a dozen, and some of them were seriously wounded. ”FORM A CIRCLE! DEFENSIVE STANCE!” and the trained soldiers complied at once. This bought them some time but also surrendered there escape route to the demons who now engaged them from all sides. Skymoon and his band fought valiantly and for every claw that hit them, five sword strokes were payed back but demonflesh seemed to be tougher and they also had the advantage of numbers. It happened a minute later that Mr.Big succumbed to his many wounds and dropped lifelessly to the bloody floor which opened a gap in the defense and allowed three of the demons to enter the circle of the defenders from the inside. The good men knew this was the end and they just hoped to take as many demons with them as possible but then massive chanting from the balconies of the second tier that was open to the Main Hall roused everyone’s attention. Up there stood Clio with more than two dozen of the now freed members of the Arcane Brotherhood who chanted in unison, and in unison they pointed fingers down into the Main Hall. Lightning bolts and icy bursts rained down on the demons and the trained eye of the wizards made sure that no mortal was harmed. It was a breathtaking sight, a display of colors of all kinds, and a deadly display if you call yourself a demon. Yes, Angosh liked this display as he watched into the mirror from his palace. This was one of the most entertaining things he had seen in the last time and a wicked grin was on his grey mouth. Even Minimi flapped in delight as one of the defenders was torn apart by a demon, though this was an exception now that the wizards had joined the fray. Unfortunately, it was over sooner than he hoped and so he watched the wizards walking down into the Hall and shaking hands with their rescuers. ”Thank you Master Zephin! If it wasn’t for your aid, we would all be dead now.” - ”No, we have to thank you. Without your valorous attempt we would still be trapped down in the dungeon. You payed a higher price than we did” Magus Telloran replied and his gaze fell on the many dead soldiers that lost their life in this fight. Skymoon tried to keep his emotionless expression but when he looked at the fallen body of Candy he fought hard to keep back his tears. At least her death was not in vain. ”Rescuing you was only one of our objectives. We were looking for a specific book that would help us. Of course, if you would join our ranks we would be more than happy.” - ”I know which book you mean and I will gladly hand it over to you. And of course we are deeply in your dept so we are more than happy to replace the fallen comrades you lost today.” ”Oh stop this heartbreakin’ talk ye fools! Me ears are aready bleedin from yer whinin’. Ye think ye can stop me? Yeah, eat this!” a voice said from nowhere and everywhere at once, and with a wave of his scepter in his far away palace, dozens of portals opened and no less than fifty Nalfeshnees appeared in the Main Hall. Between the entrance to the Brotherhood, an old man cowered in awe as he witnessed how towering demons tore appart the group of humans and elfs that stood in the center of the Hall. Body parts flew off in all directions and even though a handful of demons died the onslaught was overwhelming. For Grossvater Sigimund this minute seemed like a eternity but it was a minute he would never forget in his life. And it was because of this man that the valiant defenders that died today would never be forgotten… Ches (March) ”And so, the Regalia of Might became a legend, and there are few who still believe they have existed. Anyway students, please finish your homework, dissection of a toad until next lesson, and if you make any mistakes, don’t worry, I have plenty of toads who just wait to get dissected, at least they never protested A-HA-A-HA-A-HA” *students-knockknockknockknockknockknock* *onebyonetheyleavetheroom* [color=green]”Professor Dre’Dandrahl, can I talk to you for a second?” – ”But of course, oops, the second is over A-HA-A-HA-A-HA just a little joke. How can I help you, Mr.?” – ”Finnemeyer. About the paper I want to hold on about the natural evilness in gnomes…*ARGH*” *Headdropsonfloor* ”Boss! He said evil little gnomes!” – “Yeah, an he got what he deserved; might’ve been right of course” – ”Ah Mr.Angosh, always a pleasure to see you though I might add that this is not the most appropriate way to…” – ”Ah shut up!” *runsforwardandgrabstheprofessor* ”Ye’re now tellin me exactly what I wanna know or ye’re tellin nothing anymore, ye know what I mean?” – ”Impressive. An antimagic field which deactivated my emergency protections. I have to admit that…” – ”STOP! Can’t hear yer stupid talk anymore. Ye’re tellin me now where it is or ye won’t fare any better than yer damn student” – ”But Boss, ye said we’re killin him anyway!” – “A wise precaution though not the one I would prefer. I suppose you want to know where you can find the Regalia of Might? Perhaps I can help you in there…” Five minutes later, deep down in the secret catacombs of Dargenfest Hall – the Faculty of Necromancy – a clone of the Professor awoke as his soul entered the new body. It took him some time to acclimate to the new body but when he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he did was bursting out in mad laughter before plotting on. If his plan works, he might get out as the victor. Marpenoth (October) Normally, this was a day of celebration, the day of the Unification of Gladius years ago under Moherajikuyx but though there was a gathering today, it was no time to celebrate. High on Gladius Hill stood the now ruined castle of the Celestial Forces. The once magnificent Great Hall was littered with debris from broken pillars and statues of heroes that could be of use now. Dried blood stained the white marble floor and where once every corner was illuminated in bright divine light shadows reigned but the gathering had other things to worry about. Fourty-three people stood in the Hall – the last fourty-three free men, and everything the Resistance had left. And every single man looked up towards the raised dais where High Radiance Enzoul Ratrani stood in his ceremonial robes, down on his knees and deeply in meditation. The High Priest of the Celestial Forces was about to attempt one of the most difficult spells one could pray for and it took the Resistance a lot to gather the necessary valuable materials. Still, if the ritual works, there might be a chance to find a way out of this dilema but even that was doubtful. And so it was no surprise that there was still a lot of discussion going on among the crowd… ”Today will be a good day, a day of new hope” one of the bystanders said. ”I don’t know. We are using a lot of our ressources to do this ressurection. There might have been better ways to use them.” - ”Hold your tongue, Sir Brightblade. Your words border on blasphemy and I am not going to tolerate them, not now and not in the future!” - ”Well, he was one of the first who died, killed by Angosh personally. Who says it won’t happen again?” - ”The priests mentioned that he will be more like in the ancient times, and that he will forget a lot that has happened recently. Perhaps the wisdom of the distant past will help us.” - ”Still an expensive way to figure that out.” - ”We shall see soon enough. Look, Enzoul is entering the final part of the prayer.” And a glorious part it was. The High Priest of the Celestial Forces raised his arms high in the air and looked heavenward, exactly where his call should go. The Great Hall was suddenly bathed in a warm light that turned away every shadow, and filled the onlookers with a new confidence despite the bad situation they were in. A divine music filled the air and a sweet scent filled the lungs and gave everyone a feeling similar to the one when you are newly in love. The whole ceremony took more than ten minutes but no one complained, and instead savored every breathtaking second the spectacle last. And when Enzoul Ratrani finally raised his voice to a high volume that echoed unnaturally from the walls a body formed within a nimbus of light, slowly but steadily until the whole magnificence of the creature even surpassed the pleasant spectacle. And then it was dark again; dark except for the radiance that came from the being. Though exhausted, Enzoul quickly walked to him. ”Are you alright? How are you feeling, Ixidor?”. It took the archangel a moment to adept to the new surrounding but then he replied with his prominent manylayered voice ”THY CONCERNS ARE UNNECESSARY CONCERNS ARE UNNECESSARY I SENSE A GREAT EVIL IN THIS PLACESENSE A GREAT EVIL IN THIS PLACE AND I HAVE RETURNED TO PURGE IT TO PURGE IT”. Enzoul bowed down deeply and just as he wanted to reply the darkness where the archangel’s face should be looked him directly in the eyes and added ”AND FROM NOW ON AND FROM NOW ON I SHALL BE KNOWN AS IXENTHOR! SHALL BE KNOWN AS IXENTHOR!” The following days were more than eventful as the Resistance made assault upon assault on the demons and devils roaming on the street, with more or less success but for every fiend they killed, another one was called from the Lower Planes to replace him, something the Resistance didn’t have and they soon realized that they couldn’t afford to continue this direct confrontation anymore. The leaders of the Celestial Forces, or what was left of them, debated long and hard about what to do next but as the time passed by and their options ran out it became clearer that there wasn’t much they could do against King Angosh and the incredible power he wields in form of the Regalia of Might. ”According to Professor Dre’Dandrahl the Regalia of Might can only be destroyed by a being with divine ranks, and even then only on the deity’s home plane. Since we don’t have that option, we have to find something else. A direct assault is suicide. We tried that in the past with much more ressources, numbers, and hope and failed terribly. Look at the fields outside Gladius where the dead number in the thousands.” - ”What else can we do? Wait until Angosh decides to kill us once and for all? He finds our little Resistance amusing anyway and this is the only reason we are alive!” - ”So what do you suggest?” - ”I say we leave the city and begin from anew elsewhere” - ”We cannot leave all those innocent people behind. We must rescue them or die in the attempt.” - ”Well, perhaps a combination of both. We could raise a new army in one of the other great cities.” - ”And then? Add those to the dead? Angosh can kill with a thought. I tell you there is no way we can win this war. The duergar is invincible!” The discussion went on and on but just as they all ran out of ideas. Frustration increased and the council began to yell at each other until… ”WICKEDNESS HATH TAKEN TAKEN ROOT IN THE CITY WICKEDNESS HATH TAKEN ROOT IN THE CITY BUT HE WHO IS NAMED ANGOSH SHALL PERISH HE WHO IS NAMED ANGOSH SHALL PERISH FOR INIQUITY SHALL NOT PREVAIL AGAINST THE RIGHTEOUS FOR INIQUITY SHALL NOT PREVAIL AGAINST THE RIGHTEOUS AS IT IS WRITTEN SO SHALL IT BE DONESO SHALL IT BE DONE.” This brought a puzzled look onto the warleaders, clearly they didn’t understand what the archangel was up to but they patiently waited. When nothing else came from him, Enzoul Ratrani dared to ask ”Oh Most Magnificent One! Your wisdom is way beyond our grasp so if you could be so gracious to explain it and enlighten us we would be most honored.” – ”AND I SAY UNTO THEE SAY UNTO THEE I NEED NOT TO DRAW FORTH MY SWORD NEED NOT TO DRAW FORTH MY SWORD AGAINST THE RULE OF THE WICKED FOR THOSE WITH EVIL IN THEIR HEARTS FOR THOSE WITH EVIL IN THEIR HEARTS SHALL BE SATISFIED WITH NAUGHT SATISFIED WITH NAUGHT BUT THEY SHALL RETURN TO THEIR CROOKED WAYS ALWAYS RETURN TO THEIR CROOKED WAYS ALWAYS AND THEY WILL REST NOT UNTIL REST NOT UNTIL THEY HAVE THEMSELVES COME UPON THE SWORD OF THEIR DESTRUCTION THEMSELVES COME UPON THE SWORD OF THEIR DESTRUCTION. HEAR ME HEAR ME FOR I HAVE THE SWORD THAT SHALL SMITE HIM HAVE THE SWORD THAT SHALL SMITE HIM AND THE COVETOUSNESS OF HIS HEART SHALL LEAD HIM TO THE TIPCOVETOUSNESS OF HIS HEART SHALL LEAD HIM TO THE TIP”. This was still too much for the generals but High Radiance Enzoul, wise beyond human standards slowly got the meaning of Ixenthor’s words. ”Ah, I see. This is a most interesting idea. And if you know of a weapon then the question is: what could Angosh desire that may lead him onto the ‘sword’ you talked about?” Tarsask (April) It was so different a team and yet they were so closely linked together. The lilliput gnome was firmly tied to Angosh’s breast which was a pretty safe spot for which fool would come toe to toe with a powerful gladiator like Angosh and even then Minimi was more than able to defend himself though with all the spellcasters running around melee wasn’t Angosh’s problem. It was a sunny day though the warm rays were blocked by the thick canopy of leaves overhead but that created the perfect temperature in this time of the year. A soft breeze blew through Angosh’s spare hair and blew away the sweat and stench that radiated from the ugly duergar. The two outcast brothers in mind didn’t pay any attention to their surroundings for there was a far more important thing to focus on, and they had just arrived on the spot their were seeking out: the Cave of Might. This cave is said to exist only in legends and it had been dismissed as nothing but a faery tale so no one ever tried to seek it out. It is said that it is not findable except on a certain time once every blue moon while other legends speak of something completely different. The truth is – at least the truth the Professor had told him – that one has to know the specific location and then think about the Regalia of Might while standing infront of it, no easy feat considering that the cave is rumored to change its location once in a while. Still, the map he got from the deceased lecturer of Dargenfest Hall was very accurate and Minimi, being an able mapreader, was sure that this is the place. Of course, the professor has also warned him about the reason why the Regalia of Might couldn’t be stolen so easily: the guardian. He didn’t know anything else about this guardian but if something watches over such a powerful artifact, it must be a worthy foe indeed. Angosh began to come up with an appropriate attack plan while Minimi prayed to whatever god he venerated and cast one protection after another on Angosh and himself. When he had expanded almost all of his daily allotment, Angosh was also finished with his battle plan and with a mighty warcry he charged head over heels into the cave… One hour earlier… Professor Dre’Dandrahl rode on his phantom steed through the sky and over the High Forest. Despite the incredible speed with what his mount flew he watched more than once on his self-build magic watch to make sure he would arrive at the cave before Angosh would. The three hour trip took longer than expected but he finally landed infront of the cave. Vandaeris was a man who dissects corpses, plays with necromantic energies and sometimes enjoys the company of undead creatures of all kinds but in this very moment his hair stood up. The Cave of Might was guarded by Sassrendralarion, a terrible and nigh-invincible being from times long forgotten where power roamed unchecked in the world and created such beasts. It was a powerful foe in melee and immune to all magic and it is said that there is no creature short of a god in existance that could hope to beat it. Vandaeris began to cast some spells on himself, blew a last sigh, then guided his steed into the cave. It was dark within and the stench was almost overwhelming but thanks to his spells and the fortitude most necromancers had, this condition didn’t bother him too much, at least no more than the huge red cateyes that just opened in the back of the cave. ”Mister Sassrendralarion, I call you! Would you be so kind to show up! I have to discuss something with you.” The eyes blinked once, twice, then a huge claw came into view as it stomped on the ground. Then the other foot. The earth shook with every step the monster did and while it walked forward a deep booming voice that was even more enhanced by the echoing cave came from the being ”MORTAL! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO ENTER THIS CAVE. YOU MUST LEAVE AT ONCE!” - ”Ah I apologize for trespassing. It wasn’t my intention to disturb your sleep but I am holding a paper on ancient legends and you…” - ”NO! YOU MUST LEAVE THIS PLACE! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE HERE AND YOU WILL NOW GO!!” *stomp stomp* ”But Mister Sassrendralarion, my students would be most honored if they…” *STOMP STOMP* ”ENOUGH! THIS WILL BE MY LAST WARNING!” *STOMP STOMP* ”Alright, I will leave of course but let me say you farewell in the Gladiosian way: SEPTORIA ENTROUS BLASSSS” Sassrendralarion, now mere yards away from the professor, of course recognized a spell when one was cast – a summoning spell in this case – and though he knew that no monster the mortal might summon would be able to do him any harm, his ears flattened but he also decided to end this one’s life better sooner than later. With a mighty jump Sassrendralarion crossed the last distance and was now fully in a charge. The monster – too powerful to describe here – came into melee range just as the professor finished his summoning spell. A mirror appeared. Vandaeris quickly touched the veil that covered it and with a snip of his fingers he teleported away. Sassrendralarion had expected some kind of nasty and completely ineffective monster and so he was surprised to find a mirror instead. Of course, all alarm bells sounded at once for he knew about the powers some mirrors had, especially a particular one. But it was too late. His mirror image came to life and stepped out of the mirror, grew in size and power and pounced on Sassrendralarion with a fury only the original monster could achieve. Claws as big as greatswords slashed across his hide and drew deep gashes across his body, a headbutt followed and a rake from equally sharp hindlegs. He repayed in kind with a bite that tore a whole chunk out of the fake body but the blood that spilled forth convinced him that this monster was more real than he wished for. One two three slams drove the image back and against the wall but he payed a high price in doing so as his left eye was reduced to a bloody mass along with other serious wounds across his massive body. Now that the fake guardian had no room to maneuver the only thing left was to trade punch for punch. Bam Bam Bam the fist hammered on Sassrendralarion’s head and Sassrendralarion did likewise. High low uppercut. The fight went on for minutes until both beings could barely stand on their feet. Sassrendralarion looked terrible; his wounds were not countable and each one was deep and viscious, some even reaching to the bone beneath. If someone would make a ‘before-after’ picture he surely wouldn’t be able to see any similarities asides from the bloody mass having about the same mass, minus some body parts. Another slash of the image’s claw along with a rake tore open the lower abdomen aswell as part of the skull; Sassrendralarion’s world spun, began to blacken. He had only strength left for one last attack and he meant to gather all of his hate, all of his determination, all of what he had left into this attack, and with a cry that shook the earth he burst forward and closed his jaw around his counterfeit’s head, ripping the upper half of the skull apart. The mirror image vanished at once. Sassrendralarion was wounded beyond mortal reckoning but he had won the insidious trap the wizard had layed for him, and his wounds would heal over time, time was his ally because there were never more than one or two visitors in a century – fools who fought they could take the Regalia of Might, and so he was absolutely surprised when no minute later a big duergar charged right into the cave. The last thing Sassrendralarion saw in his immortal life was the descending end of a spiked adamantine chain. Uktar (November) It was a cold november evening, even colder than normally for the sun had a hard time to penetrate the thick black clouds that covered the sky for months now. Few people were on the streets – few people were left – and those that were working as slaves in the mines or other institutions were glad that they didn’t have to work outside. Snow was almost kneedeep and one had the impression that the air freezed as soon as it left the mouth. And so it was surprising that a lonely person walked the night, walking from shadow to shadow, and its hood drawn deep into its face. This game went on for another three blocks until it reached it’s destination, the meeting point where the sought person already waited. ”Ah, Mister…” - ”Pssst! No names! It is of uttermost importance that this discussion stays between us!” - ”Of course of course. I can be silent as a grave – not that all graves are silent A-HA-A-HA-A-HA I was just kidding” - ”Very funny. Now give me the information that is so important!” - ”Ah yes, the information. Now that my lesson schedule is somewhat limited I have found the time to do additional research about the Regalia of Might. Most of its powers were known, and those who weren’t we witnessed in the Battle of Gladius Hill. However, there was a secret reference, a puzzle hidden within the very description of the artifacts powers. Most interesting indeed.” - ”Professor, we don’t have time for that! Just tell me!” - ”Sure sure Mister…” - ”PSSSST” - ”AA-HAHAHAHA Just a joke; I beg your pardon” - *fume* - ”The Regalia of Might are perhaps the most powerful artifact in existance. It combines many powers but there is one secret power that hasn’t been known, until now and it surpasses the others by far. You know, the artifact was once created for a purpose and this purpose wasn’t to grant someone enough might to rule a city or a nation, no, the real purpose is to steal the power of a divine being, a quasi-deity or perhaps even a demigod but I wouldn’t bet on the latter.” - ”What? You mean, Angosh could steal the power of a god with it??” - ”At least from a lesser one, yes.” - ”By the gods! This is a secret we have to keep between the two of us, you must promise me that! If Angosh finds out, we are all doomed!” - ”I concur. The two of us then. Very well then, I have to leave now; there is a lot of material these days that needs to be dissected.” - ”Do what you wanna do Professor; we have more important problems. I even have to express the thanks of the Celestial Forces for providing us with this information. Fare well.” and with these words, the two persons walked off in different directions. And no one saw the imp that overheard them. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 11:27 AM | Mirtul (May) Two thousand archers stood on Gladius Hill and had their arrows knocked and ready to fire as soon as the command is given. Infront of them were twice their number in heavy armor, either mounted or on foot and with all kind of weapons. And the many wizards, clerics, and support troops weren’t even counted in there. The Gladiosian Army was one of the most effective and most powerful one on the continent and the supplement of gladiators didn’t lessen its firepower. Two days ago, the castle of the Celestial Forces had been destroyed and smoke columns still rose in the air, being a grim reminder of the terrible fight that had been fought there. It is said that Archangel Ixidor fell during the battle, along with many other high-ranking celestials that dwelled there and bold assumptions and rumors already began to grow in exageration about the attacker. Angosh, they said, had been transformed into a gruesome monster and that he could crush a rock with his fist alone. As the rumors circled the camp of the army and increased in its ridiculousness the scouts returned from the outer perimeter to inform their commanders that the enemy is approaching. Some laughed even then as they heard that they faced only two attackers but what they didn’t know is that today they would learn that the rumors weren’t exaggerated but quite the opposite. And then, Angosh appeared on the horizon. He looked indeed very different. He was about 12 foot high and almost equally wide, with corded muscles on arms as thick as a small tree. His skin has turned completely grey, grey as stone, and equally hard as they would soon learn, so that the only color on his body were his yellow bright shining eyes, that radiated light beams as if his body couldn’t contain all the power that gathered within this dwarf giant. His companion Minimi had been transformed aswell though his change was more drastic. His size was still the same but he had grown wings on his redscaled body, and claws replaced the feeble arms he once had. The only thing that was still unchanged was the face of the little monster that clearly resembled the crazy gnome he had once been. Angosh pumped his mighty wings and propelled himself forward. As he closed, the defenders could now see some of his new equipment, a golden armor, a scepter, some rings, and other stuff though that was of secondary interest to them. The trumpet heralded the beginning of the battle and the archers released their two thousand shafts as if they would be one. They quickly picked up a second arrow and released them, and even repeated this a third time, and a fourth time before the first volley came close to Angosh. Many thought that the battle would be over now with so much arrows flying towards Angosh (and their exceptional training made indeed sure that most of them hit him) but just as they were about to strike the flying duergar, Angosh waved his scepter and every single arrow reversed its direction and flew uneeringly back towards its owner. The archers had of course towershield bearers that normally protected them, and so they did now. The bearers walked infront of their longbowmen and as they were trained raised their huge shields infront of them and themselves but much to their surprise the arrows flew around the cover and right into the unprotected and most vulnerable spots on their bodies so that one or two arrows were enough to kill them. Even more surprisingly was what followed then: if an archer fell the remaining arrows he shot veered towards other targets, the towershield bearers for example, or other support troops who happened to stand nearby. The whole maneuver happened so quickly that many of the footsoldiers hadn’t realized that their complete archer regiment just dropped lifelessly to the ground. ”ATTAAAACK!!!” General Deysenhardt cried and the army immideatly began their work and charged towards Angosh and Minimi who just landed on the ground several yards infront of them. The warwizards began to cast their spells in hope that this would be enough to finish the duo and they were at least equally trained as the other soldiers. Their battle chants began at the same time and ended at the same time as fireball upon lightning bolt rained down on Angosh’s spot. Flamestrikes poured down on the duergar and the most powerful clerics even summoned storms of fire. In mere seconds the whole place was completely destroyed and only a crater remained. It was silent for a second, two, three, and the first soldiers began to blew a sigh of relief but that was way to early. With a maniac laugh Angosh burst out of the smokefilled area and pounced right into the ranks of the spearmen as if they were dummies. His claws mobbed the ground and with every swing, half a dozen men flew through the air and lay still on the ground, their limbs bent in unnatural angles. And while his claws did their gruesome work, his mouth spit forth lines of fire extending hundreds of feet long and leaving empty scorched spaces where the fire went along. Angosh then began to spin. Faster and faster he spinned until he resembled more a whirlwind of claws than a humanoid being, and his line of fire became a circle of fire that reduced everything within its radius to ashes. In a matter of seconds dozens found their grave, and there was no end in sight. ”NOW YE’RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!” called someone who stomped right through the fiery inferno as if it would be nothing more than a nasty wind. Dusk, Talon of Bahamut, approached Angosh who now focused on his hated enemy. ”Dusk ye dog! I’m gonna kill ye slowly and yer head will be part of me new throne!” - ”SPARE YER WORDS!” and Dusk began to run. Faster and faster he ran over the battlefield, his feet pumping, and then with a mighty leap he jumped high into the air where he met Angosh who equally took to the sky; not before summoning some demons and devils that occupied the army in the meantime. Claw met claw in midair as the two titans clashed together. Each grabbed the other one on the shoulders and tried to use his strength to crush him, or punch him into submission. Angosh had become powerful of course but he was facing no commoner. He was facing Dusk, an immortal being himself and older than every piece in the Gladius Museum. It seemed to be an equal match and no one could overwhelm his foe. They traded punch for punch and when they realized that this would take too long, they used their innate powers instead. Dusk’s claws reached into the soil and pulled out balls of earth that instantly burst into flames which he threw at Angosh, who countered with equally powerful magic and so on. The War Wizards soon realized that they could not harm Angosh so they focused on battleing the many demons and devils that appeared from out of nowhere and gave the knights a hard time. Angosh and Dusk took a break as they looked the other one straight in the eye, their breaths coming in rapid succession which indicated their growing exhaustion. ”Still not enough Dusk? Ye’ve been a thorn in me eye fer a long time and this is the moment of my triumph!” - ”Ye haven’t won yet. Ye’re way outnumbered and yer powers will deplete over time!” Dusk judged the situation correctly, Angosh thought. He had already used a big portion of his artifacts energy and though he has dealt great losses to the army of Gladius, he knew he had to finish Dusk quickly. ”Ye know, ye…” - ”Ah shut yer mouth” and Dusk stomped on the ground. A crevase opened from the tip of his boot which sped towards Angosh. The vibration alone was enough to send him to the ground and as the chasm opened around him, he dropped into it. With unnatural reflexes, Angosh was able to flap his wings once which helped him to evade the sure death but he was still trapped from the abdomen downward. ”NOW MEET YER MAKER AND TELL HIM HE SUCKS IN MAKIN THINGS!” Dusk approached, hate and vengeance written on his face and doom on his claws. Angosh looked left and right, then up, looking for a way out of his dilemma. Closer and closer Dusk came and just as he was in melee range and ready for the killing stroke, Minimi dived down, a prayer on his lips and when the imp touched his master, both of them vanished from sight. Dusk cursed his luck and just wanted to begin looking for Angosh but he got his answer sooner than expected when a barrage of punches rained down on him from behind. Dusk managed to turn around and get some defenses up but he suffered a lot before he succeeded in doing so and even then, Angosh was pressing on. A knock on the head sent Dusk to the ground, a kick sent him flying through the air, and the following pounce almost finished him completely. Arkin Jozil was deeply engaged in a battle with some demons when he saw the battle that was taking place on the highest point of Gladius Hill. He took some steps into the direction but he knew it was futile. Dusk was down on his knees and bleeding from dozens of wounds, his head trying to fix the duergar infront of him. Somehow Angosh sensed Arkin’s gaze from far below so he smiled at him, even winked him before his mighty fist closed around Dusk’s neck …and ripped his head off. Nightal (December) ”MUAHAHAHAAA I WILL RULE OVER THE WHOLE WORLD!” Angosh laughed. Since Minimi has provided the new information about the secret power of his artifact he was in an exceptionally good mood, only killing a handful of citizen each day. Daydreams occupied him for hours which were always accompanied by this mad laughter. After a couple of days Minimi the imp was the first one who dared to approach Angosh and ask some critical questions. ”Boss, ye’re plotting for days now. I was wondering if you’re okay.” - ”Couldn’t be better! Couldn’t be better. I am now sure whom I am going to steal his divine power! And you as my faithful companion will be the first who gets to know it!” - ”Sure sure tell me!!” and Angosh leaned close and whispered him into his demonic ear. ”WHAT!? This is insane!!” - ”NO! This is called vengeance after all he did to me! I will seek him out and then he will pay! I will let him suffer for all eternity and he will be my prisoner until the end of time! Yes! Yes! I, Lord Angosh, have decided. Prepare our trip Minimi …we will travel to the Land of the Dead!” The Fugue Plane. Some call it the Land of the Dead, others call it Purgatory, and then there are even more exotic names for this place all mortals would visit sooner or later. This is the place where the newly deceased arrived in order to await judgement and then travel on towards the plane of their chosen god where they would lead an eternal afterlife which was closest to their liking. Not all of them travelled on though; a few – called The False – were doomed to stay on the Fugue Plane for not venerating a deity, or other sins (from a deity’s point of view) and there were more than enough ‘jobs’ to do on this plane. The Fugue Plane was nothing any creature would find comfortable. It was a barren and desolate wasteland where grey was the dominating color and despair the dominating mood. As far as the eye could see were only piles of ashes, grey soil, and a grey ever-clouded sky. A constant mind-numbing sound which changed its pitch and volume by the splitsecond could drive any sane man into insanity, and infact, many denizens on the Fugue Plane were just that. Another important feature of this plane was that no one could access it with mortal magic. No planeshift, no astral travel, and no portals led to the Fuge Plane, only death was a way to get here, asides from some exceptionally rare methods, like being in the possession of the Regalia of Might. Angosh and Minimi arrived on no particular spot but they knew where they had to go. Since time and distance had no meaning here their destination was reached soon. It was a huge building, a cathedral of some sort but in desperate need of repair. The walls seemed to crumble into dust any second but somehow they held another minute, like they did for millenia now. Angosh couldn’t say how high this cathedral was and he didn’t care for he needed all his attention on the upcoming fight. This was the home of the Harvester; not one of his avatars which were feared in all of Gladius. No, this was the Harvester himself, the mysterious being that seemed to have more than one secrets. Some said, he is the Seraph of Death, the Grim Reaper himself who comes to the world of the living to take back souls that were ressurected once too often (which would explain Angosh’s past problems with one of the avatars), and of course there were other rumors but the most interesting one he heard so far was that the Harvester might be the legendary and long lost Archangel Gabriel from ancient times. Whatever was true, one thing was sure …today, Angosh would take his place! Angosh gleemed with power! He had prepared himself perfectly for this final battle, and Minimi has also added many of his spells. Never before had a mortal wielded such power and it was now time to take his rightful place among the immortals! ”ASVIK AEPPLAAHT!” Angosh cried and with an explosion of force energy, the gates of the fence that surrounded the cathedral burst open. That caused a reaction! Moans from tortured souls could be heard and white misty vapors came out of the graveyard ground that was between the fence and the great entrance doors to the cathedral. These spirits flew with lightning fast speed towards Angosh and even his hairs began to stood up. One by one they gathered around him, flew through his body only to exit on the other side and with each spirit Angosh felt an unbearable pain, not a bodily pain but a pain in his soul as the guilt of the False left their imprints on Angosh. On and on the spirits attacked him until he cried out in anger ”ENOUGH!”. A burst of golden light sent the spirits in all direction, at least those that haven’t been destroyed in the nimbus. With a curse on his lips he walked on. Left and right he saw tombstones of people who were about to die this day but he ignored them. Some steps later he stood infront of the huge doubledoors which he had no problems in opening. The final battle… The doors burst open as wood splinters flew off in all directions. Even a large creature like Angosh was dwarfed by the entrance to the most aweinspiring hall he had ever seen and ever will. The ceiling was of course way beyond anything anyone could hope to spot but the extend of the hall was breathtaking. Ancient sculptures and reliefs adorned the ornate walls and an eery but at the same time magnificent illumination shed some light onto them. Music from an unmanned gargantuan organ filled the hall and just added to the atmosphere. Countless stairs were leading upwards into all directions, some ended on walls, some vanished in the shadows of the height, and some ended on pools of colors – portals to all planes of existance. Even for an uneducated duergar like Angosh, this sight alone was worth the trip to the Fugue Plane, and soon, all this would be his! ”HARVESTER! COME OUT!” Silence and Organ music. ”I AM HERE TO AVENGE ME!” Silence and Organ music. ”AND I WILL TAKE YOUR SEAT!” A small gust of wind came up but vanished at once, and Angosh could see some shadows up on the many balconies that were all around him though he couldn’t identify them. The organ music began to play a faster melody, the gusts of wind increased and vanished, color pools flared into existance and died in the same second, and the mind-numbing sound came up again, and just as Angosh was about to tear off his ear from this cacaphony, it was completely silent except for a whisper. ”Yyyyooooouuuuuu-bbbbbrrroooookkkkkkeeeee mmmyyyyyyy dddooooorrrrrr” It all happened so fast: the organ music began to play again as the spirits came through the open front doors but that wasn’t what got Angosh’s attention: at the end of the room on a raised dais hovered the Harvester, more than twenty foot in height and with an aura of power around himself. His black robe moved unnaturally, more to the beat of the music than the wind, and the viscious scythe he held firmly in his hands ran a shiver down Angosh’s spine. The duergar didn’t hesitate for this was the hour of his greatest triumph! He went into a crouch, then jumped up high with such force that he would’ve cleared the whole distance to the Harvester in one leap, would. No later than he cleared ten feet he crushed into a forcefield! He was instantly sent on his bottom. Angosh quickly pushed himself up and jumped back but a forcefield blocked his way aswell, and Minimi confirmed that the other ways were blocked aswell. ”RHOAR! Ye won’t hold me in ‘ere! MINIMI! GET US O…!”. A zone of silence cut his words short and if that wasn’t bad news enough Minimi quickly told him per sign-language that they were anchored within the forcecage! Angosh trashed against the forcewalls while Minimi tried to do something more useful. The ex-gnome had wisely used some of the gold from Angosh’s treasure chamber to buy useful equipment, and this equipment might be their only hope now! He drew a rod that allowed him to ignore the soundmuting field. Meanwhile Angosh used the power of the Regalia to penetrate the silence ”Alright! You have trapped me inside yer cage but unless ye come inside ye can’t do nothin bout me! As long as I wield the Regalia of Might I am INVINCIBLE!!” - ”Thhhheennnnn-iiittttttt-iiisssss ttttiiiiiiiimmmmeeeee ttttoooo ttttaaaakkkkkeeee-iiittttt aaawwwwaaayyyyyyy” hissed the black-robed being and just as he had finished his last word, winged beings decended down from the ceiling. They were too awesome to describe! Their feathered wings and golden eyes combined with their celestial aura of goodness and power was more than enough to chase a mortal away, or leave onlookers open-mouthed as Minimi was right now. And then they were gone. The next split-second seemed endless, then the Solars appeared right within the cage just as Minimi was about to cast his teleport. A mighty swing of a holy greatsword shattered the silent rod into pieces and with it every hope of ever getting out! It wasn’t getting better for the trespassers! The five solars who happened to bear the sign of the ancient 1st Choir of the Celestial Forces (thought destroyed ten thousand years ago) began to bash at Angosh and Minimi while the Harvester extended his hand. Black energy sped towards the duergar, connected him with Angosh, then reversed so that the flow of black energy went back towards the Harvester. At first, Angosh didn’t feel any drawbacks but then his ring crumbled to dust, soon followed by his other ring! Shadows began to creep along his fingers, along his arms, and the scepter began to pale, the shining gold lost its gleam and soon lost its color completely! Angosh dropped the scepter and tried to focus on the power stored within him for he was still overloaded with energy. He concentrated on the wall of force and began to redirect the power against it, surely breaching it. ”DEEENNNNIIIIEEEEDDDDD!” Angosh felt the focused energy dissipating. Minimi didn’t fare better with all the angels bashing down on him. At least, they didn’t target him but destroyed his items. The cowardly imp quickly hid behind his big benefactor which cause the angels attacks on him to cease and the angels attacks on Angosh to begin. The black ray began to affect more items of the duergar, and just now another important piece of his precious artifact turned to dust. ”COME HERE!! FIGHT YERSELF!!” Angosh tried to taunt the Harvester, trying to get him into melee but he knew the emotionless seraph wasn’t prone to such cheap tricks. And so he was all the more surprised when the Harvester drew closer and attacked him! He extended his arm, his huge hand reached through the forcecage and before the astonished Angosh could realize what was happening he found himself firmly within the grasp of the Harvester! All this happened so fast that the spirits that came through the door arrived only now. They entered the forcecage aswell and began to fly through Angosh again, entering his body from one angle and exiting on the diametrically opposite side; each time leaving an eternity of suffering on his soul! Angosh was almost naked now, his items lying in form of dust next to him, and Minimi didn’t fare any better. A wave from the Harvester signaled the solars retreat ”YES LORD HARVESTER YES LORD HARVESTER” and all of them ceased to attack, not that there was anything else to attack other than duergar flesh. The spirits and the huge hand of the Harvester withdrew likewise but all surrounded the cage Angosh – now in his mortal form again, that of a smelly duergar – was trapped into. This didn’t matter since he was barely aware of his surroundings with all the torment he had suffered. Lying on the floor, he could just see through one eye how the Harvester came closer, hovered a few seconds infront of him, then extended one hand and said the most dreaded word one could hear from the Seraph of Death ”Haaaarrrrvvvvveeeesssssttttteeeeeeddddd dd!” The Gallery http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Vandaeris3.jpg - Professor Vandaeris Der’Dandrahl http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Ixenthor-ressurect.jpg - The Ressurection of Ixenthor http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Ixidor-sword.jpg - Archangel Ixenthor http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Harvester-Cathedral.jpg - The Harvester’s Cathedral http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Angosh-trapped.jpg - Transformed Angosh trapped http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Story%20Pictures/Harvester+Crimson2.jpg - The Harvester Epilogue ”…and therefore all of Gladius want to express their gratitude for your invaluable assistance in the downfall of Angosh. I hope you are satisfied with all the new positions we offered you.” *clapclapclapclapclap* *aplauding audience* Of course, Professor Dre’Dandrahl was satisfied with how things turned out in the end, the many honorings he received, the gold, and not to forget all the magical items and books he stole from the Brotherhood of the Arcane while the Celestial Forces engaged the demons stationed there. He chuckled about the irony of it all, then stood up and walked towards the magical microphone to hold his speech. It had been a terrible year for the population of Gladius. The destruction the reign of Angosh left behind was incredible but the citizen were determined to rebuild their great city, perhaps even a bit better than before. Many old and legendary gladiators like Arkin Jozil, Dusk the Adamant, Skymoon Moonbow, and others, had died but their sacrifice was not in vain, and down there at North Gate, the first new and unknown gladiators were already entering Gladius. Some of them might vanish after a week or three but surely there will be those that will become legends on their own, making history, and furthering the fame and fortune of the proud city of Gladius. And the first light rays that penetrated the black-clouded sky heralded the beginning of a new Age |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 07:25 PM | The arena was unusually tense this afternoon as the combatants walked onto the field. You could hear in their cheering that this was going to be an interesting match. No one paid any attention to the PitLord on the field trying to build up the audience’s anticipation…. It wasn’t needed. Everyone knew these two were powerful and it would only boil down to luck to define the winner. The PitLord quieted the audience with just a gesture and looked to the two combatants from the North end of the field making sure all were ready. It almost seemed that before the PitLord even finished the word “Begin,” Peter was reacting. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/27.JPG PitLord Summons Gargantuan cat! PitLord wins! http://members.cox.net/wyluli/26.JPG Kidding… Peter Peter knew that the only way to win this battle was to act fast, not missing a beat. He had his prepatory spells already cast and hoped that they would work to allow him to survive. Even for just a few moments. Almost subconsciously he went defensive knowing that there was a chance his opponent, whom he could not see, might already be on his way. Moving backwards 20’ and throwing up a darkness centered on his wooden holy symbol, he waited for the sign that Aku was near. Aku Reacting as fast as he could, Aku on his mounted phantasmal steed headed out for the other side of the field hoping to catch his opponent before Peter could do anything. As he rounded the central column his hopes vanished seeing the obvious darkness that was already up. His original plan of action might had to be altered but getting close was the key. Continuing on to the darkness, after all Peter had to be near it the short guy can’t move fast, he was caught by surprise as an Archon appeared 35’ before him and came at him, attacking. The Archon looks around knowing the effect of a summoning spell and his mission all too well, he spots Aku easily and heads over hoping to dispatch of him quickly so that he may return home. Caught off guard by the creature appearing, Aku resisted the magical aura the creature emanated and prepared for the sword attack helping the blow glance off of him leaving a minor wound. More annoyed at the Archon than feeling that it’s a threat, he ignored the Archon continuing to cast. Knowing that he was too late for an assault, he went defensive casting a resist fire. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/28.JPG Peter Smiling as he realized that his Contingency spell successfully went off, he dropped the symbol w/darkness on the ground hoping that it would throw Aku off of his trail. Casting invisibility and then moving to hide behind a rock would help that even further. Perhaps it would even give him a round or two to summon more creatures. Only time would tell. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/29.JPG Archon Seeing his opponent shrug him off so carelessly only focused the Archon in attacking this foul being. Aku Wondering just what kind of creatures Peter summons for even the Archon couldn’t hit him standing *right* in front of him, Aku continues on his way confirmed in the fact that the Archon couldn’t hit the broad side of a sleeping dragon. Getting within 40’ of the darkness shows Peter nowhere to be found so he decides that his opponent is playing a game of hide –n-seek. Casting see invisibility would help with this game. Peter The see invisibility spell was a good move on Aku’s part, Peter rationalized. However, would it be good enough when he’s halfway across the arena? Deciding to get far away hoping the darkness would continue to fool Aku, he dimension doors to just the other side of the column hiding in a nook. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/30.JPG Archon Fully enraged by Aku ignoring him and his blade missing what appears to be an easy target, he charges screaming out a war cry just as his blade swings down at Aku. Screaming out in pain, Aku turns to the creature who looks rather pleased with itself for drawing such a deep wound and attempts to send it back to where it came from with a dispel magic. Fully enraged that his dispel magic did not work, he moves on rounding around the corner widely looking for Peter. Spotting him just on the other side of the column, Aku finally gets his chance to move in close. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/31.JPG Peter Shocked that his adversary found him so quickly, Peter retreats back to the other side of the column casting repulsion. That should keep him away he thought happily. Archon Knowing Aku retreated from his mighty blow, he went straight East towards the column hoping to catch him on the round surprising him again. Aku Getting frustrated at how wounded he was and yet no solid attack on Peter, he went around the column since him and his mount couldn’t squeeze through the small spaces very well. Turning to finally unload his barrage of spells on Peter, he was overcome by a field of energy repelling him. His mount adamantly refused to move further so he just cast his spells as quickly as he could from there before dismounting. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/33.JPG Peter Peter seeing his adversary before him knowing that he has a few tricks up his sleeve darts a step behind the other side of the column to cast another summoning spell realizing it’s now or never. Archon Finally seeing Aku again, he fully charges hoping that his blade will do the final blow. Aku Not allowing his prey to escape, Aku ignores the annoying summoned creature hastily moving to continue his barrage of spells. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/34.JPG Peter Peter finishes the incantations of his spell thankful that he didn’t get another barrage of that enervation ray. He smiles as he watches the Bralani appear as the wall before him. Deciding that this last blow will be the end, he pleads to his God to bring forth a flaming wrath upon his enemy. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/35.JPG Archon Swinging on Aku as he left him again, he notices allies to help him bring down this powerful foe. With a renewed sense of vigor, he charges him. Aku Surrounded and severely wounded his instincts threatened to take over. Fighting them mentally he managed to regain control over his pain racked body and summon the magic to dispel them all. Now if he could just place it right so he wouldn’t be hit… He slowly opened his eyes hoping that the summons would be gone and withholding a cry of joy, he saw that they were! He pursued Peter without hesitation only to realize a bit too late that the creature behind him was still there. Reaching the outside the center column he blinked, feeling new life breathe into him. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/42.JPG http://members.cox.net/wyluli/43.JPG Peter Peter watched with dwindling hope as he saw his opponent rush past him turning into a huge Glabrezu. Knowing that the best way to defeat him was to turn him back, Peter summons for the magic to dispel everything going on in an area. Peter turns and runs to the other side of the column shocked to see his opponent still in the demon form. He screams out in pain as Aku gets a quick swipe on him before he can fully get away. Archon Shrugging off the magical effects, he watched in disbelief as the Bralani disappeared, returning to their home plane. Jealous and longing for the same release, he continued on to attack this Aku. Hoping to finish him off or to be finished off, he swings his sword. Aku Frustrated at the game of hide-n-seek turning into ring around the rosey, he moves on for his only real choice until Peter comes into view. Then he slams Peter with as much magic as he could muster. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/44.JPG Peter Peter was in a good rhythm now, if only he could keep it up and not run out of spells. This new form of Aku’s would take a lot to move around and perhaps he could just keep him running. Now if he just would stop running out of spells… Archon Smiling seeing his opponent barely hanging onto life, he charges once again hoping his blade to find bone. Aku Moving 40’ east hoping to get in another glancing attack, he gets frustrated not seeing Peter. Taking out a scroll, he casts dimension door to the other side of the column hoping to at least get a good position to get one attack in. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/45.JPG Peter Letting out a slight yelp, Peter retreats back holding the wound that he hoped to dodge from Aku. Summoning the fire from his God, he brings down yet another wrath of heat. Archon Hearing the whispered words from the person who summoned him, he quickly moves to stand in front of Peter. Aku Happy that the annoying little summon is leaving him alone this round but upset that the little dwarf keeps escaping him, he rounds the corner finally getting his chance to attack him again. He knows Peter is hurt, he could only hope that this spell does enough damage to knock him down. http://members.cox.net/wyluli/46.JPG Peter Smiling not because he’s almost ready to pass out, but because he can summon the flames just one more time… Screaming out in rage, Aku resists the best he can… Falling to the ground holding his wounds, Peter humbly thanks his God for helping him with this victory. The Archon, smiling because he can finally go home to the cake he left in the oven, disappears within a few breaths… Aku… his last vision that of fire wakes up to the beautiful face of an Arena cleric, whose electric blue eyes greet him warmly. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 08:06 PM | http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook0a.jpg Indri'ynar http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook0b.jpg Rook http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook1.jpg http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook2a.jpg http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook2b.jpg http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook3.jpg http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook4.jpg http://www.users.bigpond.net.au/petersd/cocofights/indrirook5.jpg |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 08:28 PM | Arhat did not need to see his opponent in order to confirm who it was. “I thought I already defeated you,” he shouted from one end of the arena, with a hint of disdain in his voice. “You are foolish to believe you could keep me down with one small victory,” came a deep voice from the other side of the arena, “Fate has conspired to bring us together here once again. Recall that you barely left our last encounter. This time you will not be so lucky.” “Enough useless chatter! Let’s end this!” Arhat cried out, as his Pegasus, Dharma whinnied and extended his wings fully, bringing a murmur of awe from the crowd. Both riders urge their mounts forward, but the Solstice reacts with a bit more speed than the Arhat. Solstice veers Raucus a little to his right, and spurs his to mount bolt forward, keeping an eye for his foe on the far end of the arena. He continues riding, Raucus’s horseshoe clapping loudly off the arena walls, as suddenly, Arhat becomes visible between two pillars. Solstice halts his mount immediately and appraises the situation of Arhat on his Pegasus mount. He quickly realizes that while he has his Pegasus, he has the advantage in mobility. Furthermore, unlike Raucus, the Pegasus would, and could, likely attack Solstice independently of Arhat. His decision became clear: He had to take down that Pegasus if he wanted to increase the odds of him winning. He focused on the Pegasus and sent forth an Ego Whip. Arhat, out of the corner of his eye, noticed Sostice, but then suddenly heard a high-pitched noise approach. His instincts told him it was a psychic attack, and he braced his mind for an assault of some kind. However, Dharma reared up and started to look startled and it suddenly began being whipped by dozens of tiny abrasions. The Pegasus maintained composure, however, and took wing as Arhat guided it out of Solstices’s line of sight. He clutched the power stone he had brought into the fight tighter as it’s power activation and seeped into him. His mind became clearer, and he now felt as though he could react juts a bit faster to any of Solstice’s attacks. “Forward!” Solstice yells as he barrels forward on Raucus. He was not pleased with the progression of the Pegusus’s swift movement, but was not too worried. He narrowed his eyes towards Arhat’s general direction and decided to concentrate fire on Arhat’s mount. Again he regained sight of Arhat, and again he let loose an Ego Whip. Dharma was caught a little off guard since the attack hit it in its blind spot, but the magical beast’s mind was to focused on getting out of harm’s way to freeze up. The lashings of the psionic assault continued to batter the Pegasus, dulling its natural sheen an prominence, but it remained resilient. Arhat patted down his mount, calming it, as he brought it closer to the cover of a nearby pillar. “Fear not, friend,” he said into it’s ears, “should you see him approach, take wing and get out of his field of vision.” He then focused on his own internal energy and enhanced his own health, accelerating his own vitality and prolonging his life energy. Dharma looks over his shoulder, it’s wings steady as it prepares to jet off on the first sight of Solstice. It indeed sees Solstice as the psion trot over to their previous position on the other side of the arena. Solstice could make out the view of the Pegasus and rider flying further from him. “Yes, run away,” Solstice said under his breath, “Your futile actions will only make my vengeance more sweet.” He knew the pegasus was out of his range, but he decided to wait for his prey to inevitably come to him. He too focused on energizing his life force, and did so behind the cover of a nearby rock. Arhat took out his bow after he felt the jolt of Dharma’s sudden flee from Solstice. “Time to take the fight to him!” He said to Dharma as the Pegasus reversed wing and flew towards Solstice’s position. Arhat concentrated some of his psionic energy in the palm of his hand. The swirling mass of unfocused energy came together in the form of potent electricity. Cackling about his palm, he used his rising emotions to focus the energy into a single firing point on his index finger and aimed for Solstice behind the large rock. The bucking of the Pegasus and the rushing of the breaking air suddenly began to become uncomfortable for the wilder. He tried to readjust his position in the saddle, but the wild energy in his palm unexpectedly broke free from his palm and spiraled upward. The erractic arc of stray electricity grazed the ceiling and exploded into harmless sparks. Many spectators ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the unexpected light show. Angered at his unhelpful loss of focus, he then realized he was in firing range of his foe. He leaned to the right and led Dharma away from his attacker. Solstice questioned why Arhat had lost his own attack, but took it as a blessing and opportunity. He spurred Raucus to give chase to the evading Pegasus and fired another Ego Whip. Arhat hears the incoming attack, and gives a quick warning to Dharma to brace itself. The Pegasus whinnied loudly, obviously succumbing to the attack. It’s wings wilted and the beast seemed to freeze in mid-air. Arhat cursed mentally as he gritted his teeth, turned around while drawing an arrow, and let fly an arrow. Seeing his arrow skip off the floor close to the oncoming Solstice, Arhat then urges Dharma to stay strong and break though of its dazement. “Why don’t you quit attacking Dharma and go after me instead, coward!?” he half-scolded, half-pleaded to Solstice. Despite his own danger, he was concerned for the safety of his companion amid the escalating battle. “Very well,” Solstice announced, with a tone of menace. His entire body started to emanate a black aura as lighting concentrated in the palm of his hand. The bauble of electrical energy launched out of the hand of Solstice, empowered by Solstice’s now-waning aura, and leaving a thing black trail in its wake. Before Arhat could put up his hands to reflexively shield himself, the ball of energy came to a stop just before his chest and exploded. Maximum voltage coursed through both Arhat and Dharma, as the electrical grenade had hit them both. Arhat’s joints stiffened and he found his body paralyzed, but felt it quickly wearing off. Fortunately for him, his natural physiology grounded some of the electricity, reducing his damage. However, the jolt of energy seemed to be all that Dharma needed as it stretched its wings wide and shook off the brunt of the electrical discharge. Dharma, aware of it’s rider’s predicament, fell back to a safer spot, buying more time for Arhat to recover. Solstice frowned as he tired of this game of cat and mouse. It was evident that Arhat continued to flourish because of the flying beast, So he made preparations to finish it once and for all. He readied his Ego Whip again, acknowledging that the beast had suffered so much already, and would not likely survive much more. He banked on the fact that Arhat would likely let his emotions get the best of him and attempt a counterattack. For his sake, he hoped he was right. Arhat first felt his fingers twitch, then felt his muscle control quickly return to him. He was still seeing stars after the outburst of lightning, and has determined to hit Solstice hard for it. He saw Solstice waiting patiently to the side, readying another sort of attack in his palms. Wishing to interrupt the attack Arhat and Dharma moved forward, unknowingly triggering Solstice’s readied action. Dharma sudden stopped as though it had slammed into a brick wall, and Arhat saw it had once again been struck by Solstice’s attack of choice. Not losing the momentum, Arhat swept one foot over his saddle and dismounted. He fluidly burst into a short sprint towards Solstice as he quickly manifested another ray of electricity. He skidded to a stop, raised his finger, aimed with one eye open, and fired an Electrical ray, fueled by his own feelings of retort. The bluish-yellow ray spiraled towards an unguarded Solstice and hit him squarely in the ribs, eneveloping him in lethal electricity. Solstice would not be stunned by this effect, though, and this Arhat knew. He was also more vulnerable on foot now, without Dharma under his legs, and this Arhat knew also. “Let’s see how strong you are without your flying nuisance,” Solstice mocked as he lobbed another electrical grenade at Arhat. Once again Arhat fell victim to the powerful attack, and he screamed as he was quickly jolted into numbness. Behind him, Dharma shook his head and recovered from its daze. Its breath was heavy as it looked up and saw Arhat stuck in place from Solstice high atop his horse. With a single flap of its wing it was in the air and barreling towards Sosltice with means of collision. It swept passed a stunned Arhat with it’s hooves straight out. Solstice gave out a small cry of surprise as he quickly lifted his crossbow and fired a bolt at his new threat. The bolt missed wide as it flew harmlessly aside, and Dharma began ot kick furisouly in midair. Solstice leaned back just beyond the reach of its hooves and knew that if that heavy Pegasus landed on him, he was as good as gone. Dharma had hoped to dislodge Solstice from the saddle of his mount, but its flailings missed as it lost the momentum of its charge. Solstice breathed a sigh of relief at his brush of luck once more. However, he then realized he was presented a tough decision. Either he could attack the stunned Arhat and ensure a lead towards victory, or he could put the weakened, but immediately threatening, Pegasus out of commission. He knew he could not do both, but swiftly evaluated Dharma’s fall as a greater gain, and so he took a step back with Raucus and lashed the graceful beast with Ego Whip again. Dharma fell from the air immediately, dropping to the ground, helpless and writhing into a comatose state. Dozens of spectators cry out in dismay of the creatures waning grace, even in falling. Not far away, Arhat’s eyes widened at the fall of his faithful companion; one who had helped him so much in this battle by not only rescuing him from immediate danger when Arhat was immobilized, but also sacrificing itself so that Arhat would have a chance at victory. He saw that the beast’s breathing was very shallow, indicating that it was alive, but needed help soon. Letting the rush of emotion overwhelm him, Arhat erupted out of his daze with a fierce battle cry, enveloping himself with powerful waves of visible greenish energy and restoring his recent wounds in the process. Solstice raised an eyebrow at Arhat’s display of prowess, but knew the field was even now that Dharma as out of the battle. He too enhanced his own physiology and adjusted it to maximize its life. Arhat, now full of personal vengeance, rushed forth with an alarmingly rapidly-manifested Energy Ray. His hands seemed immolated in fire, but it was in fact powered by the fired raging within him at this very moment. He coupled both hands together and produced a massive beam of energy that impacted directly with Solstice and nearly knocked the dark rider off of his mount. Solstice now realized the full danger he was in. He knew he was out of energy, and had been completely absorbed by Arhat’s last impressive attack. He spurred Raucus to move back, as his coolly loaded his crossbow and fired at Arhat. The bolt seemed to waver in face of Arhat’s impressive aura and veer off course. Arhat’s aura melted down, but his emotions still ran high. He took out another arrow, aimed carefully at the retreating rider as he walked closer, then let his aim fly true. Solstice only realized he was injured when he looked down at the rigid arrow stuck deep in his shoulder. He pulled it out swiftly and growled. He knew things were going downhill against this raging monster, but he would not give in so easily. Solstice reloaded and leveled his aim to Arhat’s chest. His bolt flew towards the advancing wilder and sturck him solidly. Arhat did not utter a noise as he quickly plucked the bolt out of his chest. His power had already sealed the wound, and he continued to advance closer. He sensed the end was near for the psion. He calmly took out another shaft at launched it at Solstice. Solstice began to panick for the unerring aim of Arhat. He did realize the foe had advanced so quickly since their last fight. He began to lose heart as his hands loaded the crossbow, fired, and missed horribly. “This is it!” Arhat cried. He let this next arrow symbolize his vengeance for Dharma, and his purpose for fighting in the Arena. The arrow zipped trhough the air and slammed into Solstice so hard the psion was unconscious from the injury before he knew it. Solstice’s body became limp and Raucus sensed this. Instinctively, it felt like running away with no one to guide it, but its training days as a steed of battle came to memory as it decided that it now had to attack in its rider's stead. It charged forward to a surprised Arhat, who had thought his victory attained. It was upon the wilder in an instant and pranced up, punching forward with its heavy hooves. Arhat was nearly knocked on his back as a hoof slammed solidly on his chest. He felt the resulting bruise would be felt for a while as he gasped to regain breath. He needed to get back away from the horse that was single mindedly focused on defending the body of its fallen rider. He empathized, understanding that it was merely doing for Solstice what Dharma had done for him not long ago. He took a few steps back, took out another arrow and aimed at the large target. He toyed with the idea of killing it as revenge for Dharma. but quickly dismissed the thought. Solstice did not kill his mount, and Arhat would not stoop to such measures as a comeback. He let loose his shaft but saw it whizz over the dark mane of the steed. A slight groan was heard from Solstice. Raucus took a single step forward then attacked quickly as best it could. There was the smell of desperation about the act, but the horse could be commended on its valient efforts. Almost as impressed as he was amazed, Arhat was actually finding it difficult to guard against this combatant. Arhat yelped as the horse kneeed him int h ribs, close to where it orginally hit him. He stuck true to his benevolency, and decided to take it down as quickly as possible, but avoid killing it. He stepped back, then formed a triangle with his fingers, through which he viewed his animalistic foe, concetrated a thin beam of flame, then aimed for it's mid-torso. Raucus screamed as it endured a heavy hit of the scorching attack. Atop the saddle, Solstice continued to struggle to breath. Both foes were out of energy. The horse, now attacking for the survival of itself and its rider stepped forward and lashed out once more. Arhat almost smiled. This fight held more challange for him than the pursuit of Solstice. He winced and twin hooves slammed down on his shoulders. He was out of energy now, as well, and the last bit of his power was drawing out. "This will be the final blow," he said to the horse, knowing that it wasn't listening, nor could it understand even if it was, " You dueled marvelously and honorably. Serve your master well in the future." He gave a small salute as he took yet another step back and let loose a final arrow, wishing it to pierce the tension mounting in the aftermath of this fight. The horse wheezed as it dropped down on its knees. Solstice slumps forward in the action. The horse now looked pitiful as it limped towards Arhat, who was silent. It managed to lift a single hoove and strike down with it. It hit Arhat lightly, who didn't move much to avoid the weak strike, and let it drag down the length of his armor. Arhat makes no move to kill the creature, and looks towards the judge to make a call, and to the animal handlers and medics on standby. "I will not kill them!" he declared, making his intentions known, "If they do not rise this next round, then I will show them mercy by not taking their lives." He waited for a reply, but did not have to wait long, "Very well," said the judge, "If neither stand now, then Solstice and his steed will lose the match." A ten second count began... "...10! Arhat wins!" Arhat was declared the winner by the judge, and cheers rang out from fans of the wilder in the stands. The arena’s medics and animal handlers moved quickly to revitalize Dharma, Raucus, and Solstice. Arhat breathed a sigh of relief as he had just defeated a returning foe. He hoped Fate would not be so cruel as to once again pit him in a fight against the Solstice. He looked back to Solstice, and acknowledged him as a worthy and dangerous foe, earning some of his respect. Though he had won and gained valuable experience (and the coin purse), he knew he would have to work harder, for the foes past this point only got harder. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 08:49 PM | Cloaked in black, as always, T’Var made his way down the halls of the Assassin’s Guild with a single-minded purpose. His dark shrouds only revealed the intense stare from his dark brown eyes. Fluffy, his well-toned, but very lethal, dog heeled beside him, trotting and sniffing the area as they advanced towards a single door at the end of this ling hall. The rest of his body look unsuspecting, and almost casual, but in reality it was filled with multiple hidden tools hey to his trade. As he walked down the hall, he took a small while to recall the strange message he received that had simply told him to some here and meet with an agent of the assassin’s guild. He had been down this particular hall only once before, and that was when he was formally recognized as an assassin among other assassin, but he was not an official member. He knew personally, how trapped this very same hall was, full of magical and mechanical traps ready to kill him instantly in a dozen different ways. But they had been lowered for him today. The office he was traveling too was just that important. His desire for power brought him here, however, for he knew this guild was an excellent stepping stone to such a goal. He embraced the dark ways of death and evil, and especially took pleasure in delivering it. For him, assassin jobs were merely a convenient trade to get paid for the activity he enjoyed most. He finally approached the door, and knocked twice, paused, then knocked once more. It was the signal he was told to give to signify his entrance. Had he not, he certainly would have been killed the moment he entered the door by the dozens of hidden rogues and assassins hiding in the shadows and likely watching him now. The door unlocked, and was opened to reveal a large office, formal in appearance, but fortress-like in its defense. T’Var knew that here, the major decisions for large jobs were assigned, and it was very rare that outside agents, such as himself, were called in. He supposed he should have been grateful, but he did not feel bothered to extend them his gratitude. Who knows? He might end up either killing or being killed by one of them. The tall, solid man, tan-skinned and bald, was sitting in a chair behind an expensive dark oak desk. This man was the undisputable leader of the assassin’s guild in Gladius. Though very lethal in his own right, definitely far more lethal than T’Var at the moment, it was inevitable that he would be killed by another assassin and someone else will assume control of the guild. It was likely how he got into control, and he knew it to be true for himself one day. Such was the way of the assassin. T’Var entertained the thought that he might one day sit in that chair as undisputed leader, but did not want to think too much about it, given the likely existence of thought-reading magic in the room under the man’s control. His hands were folded neatly in front of his calm, unrevealing face as he leaned forward on his deck. “I will make this simple, T’Var ,” the chief of silent killers said, “ I have a proposal for you that I am sure you will enjoy, given its mutual benefit to both of us. We have observed your skill, and deem you worthy of being inducted into our own ranks. However, as you likely know, there will be test involved.” The man spoke slowly and solemnly, somehow enhancing his intimidation factor. “Rumor has it that the legendary Archangel Ixenthor has returned here to Gladius. Whatever his reason, he will likely turn his meddlesome nose into our business and start some cursed campaign to hunt us all out. Some cursed garbage about a “holy crusade,” or whatevernot. While this potential threat could be handled by our more powerful agents, we felt this would be a good opportunity for you to shine. Your task is simple, accept the job, and defeat the angel in the coliseum, so his death and shame can be declared public. Do so, and the doorway to the assassin’s guild is open to you. What say you?” T’Var listened intently, and also tried to analyze the hidden meanings in the man’s words, for he was no fool to readily agree to any agreement. He knew the assassin’s guild was never this “generous” in their offers, and he ventured a guess there was greater gain for them than they let on. Obviously, he added, mentally. He looked the man in the eye and decided that it was a delicious offer no matter how he sliced it. If he took down Ixenthor, then not only would he gain some power and prestige, but he simply be having some genuine fun. Ixenthor would be a hard hit, though, and this excited the assassin. “Job and terms accepted,” T’Var said. The man cracked a smirk, “Excellent. I expect pleasing results from you, T’Var. Arrangements have already been made to pair you with Ixenthor. May your blade feast in blood.” And with that, T’Var was granted leave and that was that. There was no contract or paper trail for these sort of jobs. A verbal pact, with many, albeit hidden, witnesses present was all that was needed. T’Var now had no choice but to follow through with his assignment, lest the assassins come after him instead, fearing a 3rd party leak of information. But, he fully intended to follow through with his job. H e lowered his hood as he left the hidden entrance to the assassin’s guild, and made his way to do some reconnaissance on Ixenthor. It was not hard to find Ixenthor in the streets of the city. A large spectacle was being made of the holy warrior’s unexpected, but welcome return. Ixenthor said nothing, perhaps accustomed to this sort of reception. As expected, many priests, of various good-aligned faith, all stood together and praised the exploits. Local bards, all knowing of the legend Ixenthor, herded the people of the city closers, singing harmoniously of the angel’s great deeds, adventures, and roles in the holy scriptures. Dozens of religious fanatics threw themselves down and bowed reverently as Ixenthor passed, making a beeline for the coliseum. The same fanatics were begging and pleading to Ixenthor for him to bless them all with his words or, even better, a mere touch from his golden hands. A few faces even poked out of the constantly crowded Tavern, interested to see what the excitement was all about. A few hurriedly finished their drinks, ran outside, and join the procession. This parade continued all the way to the coliseum, where Ixenthor, followed by an army of religious zealots, finally stopped and turned to face the people. They all hushed and gazed at him with loving eyes. Ixenthor let loose his wings, causing a ripple of excitement in the crowd. “FAITHFUL! Faithful! I HAVE RETURNED! I have returned! HERE I CONTINUE MY CRUSADE TO CLEANSE THIS WORLD OF EVIL! Here I continue my crusade to cleanse this world of evil!” he proclaimed, his dual-tone, melodious voice music to many ears. He was referring to the coliseum in his last statement, of course. His traveling did indeed bring him back to this city. He had many good memories here, as well as foes that still needed vanquishing. Since he was in the neighborhood, he found it worthy of his time, for old time’s sake, to enter the arena, and judge the hearts of the combatants within. He was called into the city, incidentally, when he caught word from a mysterious tip that agents of his old foe Zedarak were in the city still, corrupting souls and working towards building an fresh new army of evil. That, of course, he could not allow. When he announced that he would fight in the coliseums, figuring that, naturally, servants to Zedarak would be drawn to the mightiest villains there, he received, unexpectedly quickly, a pairing with someone he was promised “would satisfy his interest in redeeming foes.” Ixenthor could not help suspect some malevolence in the note, but took it in good faith. This would be an exercise, and no more. If anything, perhaps he could help the poor soul he would fight against soon. Little was he aware, his foe was watching him all to carefully from afar in the shadows… Cheers rang out as the coliseum was sold out of seats for this fight, which was advertised heavily upon the return of an old hero. Ixenthor then came to learn that his opponent would be an assassin of blackest heart, and his eyes narrowed. He gripped the pommel of Corona, and swore to himself, as he did with many previous opponents, that he would personally see that this man changed his malicious way of life. The crowd waited in anticipation as they saw both gladiators enter the ring. T’Var, still cloaked and hands hidden, entered modestly from one side of the field. He had done his homework in studying his foe, and ignored the boos of Ixenthor supporters as he reviewed his strategy for victory over once again. He was also alone, finding Fluffy unnecessary in his strategy. Ixenthor, however, delivered a grand entrance, riding atop his adorned giant bat, itself a swirling cloud of dark matter, and something small in his off-hand. There was small fanfare delivered by some all-too-eager bards, most of whom were anxious to witness one of Ixenthor’s legendary feats and prowess in battle. The Judge cleared his throat, waited for silence to the start of the match, and announced the start of the fight: At the tone signaling the start of the fight, the long black cloak of the assassin flew up as if a large gale had been produced beneath him. As they slowly floated down, his hands, now evidently holding small vessels, popped the corked tops to the potion bottles, and proceeded to immediately chug it down with one gulp. The imbibement’s effects began immediately, as the assassin kicked off, and vanished into thin air before he landed again. As quietly as he could, he half-skipped backwards, putting more distance between himself and his foe. Meanwhile, on the other side of the arena, Ixenthor guided his shadowy mount to spread its wings and fly as fast as it possibly could to T’Var’s location. He was hoping to catch the assassin off guard before he goot too prepared, but was actually not surprised to see no trace of the assassin. He smirked and muttered, “AS I EXPECTED OF A COWARD OF DEATH. As I expected of a coward of death.” He was actually not surprised, already planning for this contingency. He took the small object in his hand, a small figurine of a bronze griffon, and flung it in the air. He swiftly called out to the creature within by name, and, from the Astral Plane, the creature heard his call and call immediately. A large cloud of golden smoke, laced with black streamers, billowed and swiled in place. A large form, one of a bird of prey and lion hybrid flew out of the smoke. The graceful, yet lethal, griffon, commanded much awe form the crowd. A graceful, yet deadly, creature of legend, appropriate for an equally legendary warrior, many flattering bards proclaimed. The griffon cast a subservient glare towards Ixenthor, awaiting instructions. “GO FORTH BEHIND THE ROCKS AND DETAIN THE SINNER! Go forth behind the rocks and detain the sinner!” Ixenthor said boldly. The griffon screeched , signifying that it understood, then dove down towards the nearest rock, claws outstretched and ready to rake soft flesh. However, upon landing solidly on the area behind the nearest rock, the griffon not only did not catch anything in its claws, bu it did not smell anything nearby, either. It cast a puzzled look back as the hovering Ixenthor. T’Var almost sucked in quick breath as he saw the creature come out and land behind the rock with such terrifying force. He did not give away his position so easily, and proceeded to drink the potion in his other hand. Immediately he began to feel a little lighter, as if the bones in his body were hollow. He gained the heightened awareness of the area around him and flew straight up, as if he had wings on his back since birth. Again he was silent, and he was watching the movements of the griffon very carefully. He would study its moves and perhaps even anticipates its attacks, “Obviously...”, he thought, “ Ixenthor meant for this beast, however he summoned it, to be the first wave of attack. Weakling.” As he rose he quietly slipped on his buckler and winced as it clicked in place. He frowned, however, for he did not anticipate the arrival of this creature. It seemed his research on his target was not complete. Ixenthor spread his wings and slips out of the saddle to his darkened mount. He knew this bat-like creature could use it’s echolocation to pinpoint the whereabouts of the assassin. He tapped a tattoo on his lower forearm, and immediately his skin shifted tone, matching the area directly behind him. It was almost as if he were transparent. Ixenthor, risking revealing his own location, shouted out to the griffon to search behind the other rock. The loyal beast did so, but growled in frustration as it did not sense the prey anywhere nearby. T’Var smirked in an air of superiority as he believe he had duped the griffon. He took care to remove a scroll form one of his many pocket pouches. He cleared his throat a little, then proceeded to read flawlessly from the scroll, and complete the spell inscribed with the correct magical incantation. His invisibility augmented, granting him the ability to remain invisible when normal would not. He looked back down again at the griffon, and was shocked to see it looking back at him! Or rather, past him, he soon found out, as the griffon had cocked its head towards T’Var’s position, probably hearing him utter the spell words on the scroll. It could not see him, but it was not aware of his general position, and that was a risk T’Var was not too keen on. Ixenthor, beside his bat-mount continued to prod his ride into moving forth and aiding the griffon by using it’s pinpointing accuracy to locate the slippery T’Var. He was not having such luck in convincing the animal to do sch a task however, as it still looked at him quizzically, as best an unintelligent animal could. Ixenthor then told himself to train this dark beast better after the match. Ixenthor then turned his attention back to the griffon, and saw it was focused on a point in space. He punched the air, cheering on the griffon, as he knew it had found T’Var by its own efforts. The griffon was instructed to continue pursuit of the foe and it id so, lifting itself high and cautiously following its nose closer and closer, until it stopped inches before T’Vars actual location, screeching wildly and expressing that it had located the assassin. T’Var cursed the intellect of the beast and did his best to sneak by it unnoticed. He took out his bow from beneath his cloak, and took out an arrow. He did not bother wasting a poison arrow on Ixenthor, knowing the natural ability of his kind to resist toxins. He aimed at the exposed Ixenthor, not a hard thing to do, given his concealment and element of surprise. He notched the bow, aimed for a vital area of Ixenthor, then let loose a deadly shaft. The arrow sailed through the air, becoming visible as soon as it left his fingers, and struck Ixenthor in the chest with debilitating power. However, as split fraction of a second before it actually connected, the arrow seemed to slow down, as if time itself was working against it. A semi-tangible field suddenly erupted from Ixenthor, enveloped the shaft, and slowed down its travel to harmless speeds. The arrow then fell harmless down below as it had done no real damage to the angel, and the angel was now looking in his general direction, now positive of where the attack originatedIxenthor, now aware that his foe was ready to engage, gave up trying to use his bat to locate his foe, and instead swapped places with it, using it as a generous amount of cover. TO give himself even more protection,the leader of the 1st choir tapped another tattoo on his body, this time relasing a thin bluish field. Ixenthor, now ready to contiue in his plan to redeem the assassin, tells his griffon the rough whereabouts of the rogue. The griffon screeched in reply, and flew up confidently to T’Var’s position. It had observed him the entire time, via its ears, and thus had an excellent idea of where it’s prey was. It now used it’s sensitive sense of smell to aid the chase, as it fell atop of T’var from behid flawlessly. The assassin failed reactively as he was unexpected of the attack. The beast opened its sharp beak and clenched down hard on T’Var, preventing the foe from escaping further. The assassin, now in a vice grip hold, was furiously working on ways to get out. He sorely wished he had a small weapon he could utilize now against his creature, but he lacked such weapons. How unprepared he was! Surely this was a lesson on the extended amount of training he would need to undertake to get better at his trade. He tried to use old tricks in escaping binding scenarios against the griffon, but his dexterity could not outmatch the monster's raw strength. Ixenthor, now seeing that the assassin had been caught successfully, pulled out his bow as he approached. His dark bat simple-minded followed but performed no further actions. “ARE YOU WORKING WITH ZEDARAK?Are you working with Zedarak?” he questioned as he aimed an arrow at his invisible foe, “LYING IS POINTLESS AND WILL SERVE YOU NO GAIN. Lying is useless and will serve you no gain.” He paused and waited for his griffon companion to complete it’s bear hug on the T’Var, and looked on as it indeed did so easily, much to T’Var’s dismay. “I know no Zedarak. I work for myself and no one else,” T’Var defiantly exclaimed. Ixenthor sensed he was telling the truth, too easily though. “I WILL PLAY ARBITER TO YOUR SOUL. I will play arbiter to your soul. I SENSE TOO MUCH EVIL IN YOU. I sense too much evil in you. FORFEIT THIS FIGHT AND EMBRACE THE LIGHT SIDE OF REDEMPTION. Forfeit this fight and embrace the light side of redemption,” he said, honestly hoping T’Var would make this easy and bow down to his authority. “Feh, like hell I will,” was the reply, and T’Var was swiftly reprimanded with an arrow into the hip. The arrow became invisible as it embedded itself into the assassin, but T’Var merely gritted his teeth, bale to withstand such pain. T’Var, now fully aware of how dire things quickly became, struggled with all of his might against his living bonds. The griffon added its own retaliation as it pecked its beak onto T’Var, but accidentally hit the armored side of his body. “CORONA, COME FORTH AND BRING YOUR JUDGEMENT TO LIFE! Corona, come forth and bring your judgement to life!” Ixenthor cried out as he dropped his bow and unsheathed his mighty greatsword, whose seemed to be glowing with the potential energy of the sun itself. “I ASK YOU ONE LAST TIME I ask you one last time... SURRENDER TO THE CELESTIAL FORCES! Surrender to the Celestial Forces!” Ixethor said, his ultimatum. “Go smite yourself” was the reply, and the confirmation to Ixenthor that he was not to be gentle with this foul one. He channeled his holy energy into his blade, aimed carefully, and swung down in a radiant arc that still glowed even after he swung. T’Var now howled in pain as the divine might coursed through his body and left a punishing wound and blood seeped down, reappearing in a puddle on the floor far down below. Cheers came from the crowd as the angel flogged the assassin. The veins on T’Var’s neck bulged as he tried with all his might to break free, but in the aftermath of that attack , his effort was simply not as strong. T’Var instead tried what little defensive maneuvers he could as he wiggled in place, causing the irritated griffon to miss. Ixenthor, too, missed as he swung up this time, recovering his balance from the mighty swing he just executed. Still vainly trying to break free. T’Var groaned in disappointment as the tips of his feet began to remaerialize and become visible. Still embracing the concealing effects, however, T’Var managed to divert the nasty bite of the griffon onto his sturdy metal buckler. “Stupid animal, eat that,” he thought to himself. Ixenthor, now seeing that his foe’s tricky invisibility was now dissipating, he aimed for a visible spot and swung, but was surprised to see the ready assassin kick out, albeit feebly, but slap his large sword harmlessly aside. Ixenthor then swung wide, and he cast a glare at the foe, realizing that even against the wall, he was still durable. “You and I are similar, you know,” T’Var spit out, some blood obstructing his words, “We both hunt human lives with a purpose.” He was fully visible now, the last of his earlier tricks now gone. But, before he allowed his foe to answer, he kneeled forward, then snapped back, slamming the griffon in the chin and startling it long enough for him to break free fo the bear hug it had him locked in. He was still snagged in it’s claws, but now he had more room to work with. The griffon gave its retort in a vicious snap of it’s beak, cutting into T’Var’s arm and drawing more blood from him. Ixenthor struggled a little to find a suitable area to swing his large sword inside the mess of his grappling enemy and ally. He gave a careful swing, but it was too weak, barely scraping the sides of T’Var’s armor. T’var, now locked again, and beginning to feel downtrodden, cursed his fate for agreeing with the assassin leader to take this job. He knew after this fight, the coliseum was obligated to resurrect him, and he would roam the city again, taking loves as he, or clients, saw fit. He was not depressed that this overly hyped angel-zealot would win the fight today, He would get the last laugh in, no matter what. He grinned maliciously, and glared into Ixenthor’s eyes with fire in them. “DO NOT DARE COMPARE YOURSELF TO ME. Do not dare compare yourself to me,” Ixenthor finally replied, in his usual dual-tone, and obviously irked at the assassin’s remark, “I HUNT ONLY THE EVIL SOULS OF MANKIND, I hunt only the evil souls of mankind… THOSE TOO CORRUPT BY EVIL AND MUST BE CONVICTED, Those too corrupt by evil and must be convicted.” He placed great emphasis on the last word as he took his greatsword, held it high so it would glimmer, then swung it down heavily upon the exposed body of the traitor to the human race. T’Var fell, his eyes blank, and his face still smug, even in death. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 09:02 PM | It was warm rain that day. Drops that were not too cold were falling from the heavens on the Elven City of Talltrees, and made for surprisingly pleasant weather. A light breeze shook a few branches from time to time, but for the most part it was a calm and steady downpour. The weather was not considered inclement for the city, as there was still hustle and bustle like any other day. The only difference was that extra care was taken when stepping from tree house to tree house among the dozens of artificial and natural bridges that connected the thick canopies of the woods. Should one slip and tumble from the altitudes of Talltrees, tremendous injury, much less death, was imminent, barring no magical intervention. However, death was not so much of a concern rather than an inconvenience, as the Nimbus graced even the people of this elven community. The people here were expected out a full millennia, provided no other natural means of death killed them. As such the elven people of Talltrees were not a rushed bunch. Overseeing much of the activity of the city was a figure tall and burly for his kind. With a massive greatsword tucked in a black leather sheath strapped upon his back, and a pale-blue, shined, mithril breastplate prominently displaying the insignia of the city, it was obvious to all who laid eye on him, assuming they cared to match his steely, piercing gaze, that he was Indri'ynar Per-El'ereth, captain of the guard of Talltrees. His dark eyes scanned past the rain from high atop a guard watchtower, and he swept back his slick, dark-hued hair. It was getting wet, and Indri did not wish to get a cold. He exhaled, admittedly a little bored of this day of menial guard duty. They were short-handed at the moment, so everyone had to put forth a little more effort. It was a little hard to believe they were even low on guards, since the population of the Talltree guards numbered in the hundreds. Still, facts were facts. In reality, the government of Talltrees was extending its reach further in the woods, and that meant exploration parties. What many of the guards knew was that elves in the exploration parties contracted a sort of disease indigenous to the plant life there. When they returned, they found out the virus was a short-ranged, airborne strand that afflicted many of the guard in the barracks and in consequence caused over 70% of the guard to become bedridden. Only a few paladins, monks, or those tough in body, like Indri, shrugged off the strand and in return had to pulled longer shifts to tighten security while the city’s primary defense was low. Clerics and other healers were called out in mass to treat this new disease magically, and their efforts were successful, but slow. Given the rate they could cure the guards, it would not be for another full week until the guard force was restored in full. The timing could not have been worse for the city, as a few orc raiding tribes were stepping dangerously close to the outskirts of the city, even though their recognized territory was a few miles further south, near the plains. The guards and the Council of Talltrees knew their martial force was stretched too thin to chase away the orcs, but they could not allow the savages to ravage the land either. Indri could only wonder what choices the Council were making now in regards to this small crisis. He knew two of the seven councilmen personally, as he was their retainer when they first arrived to Talltrees so long ago. He found himself almost becoming hypnotized by the droll of the rain when a scout rushed into his view and called out to him. “Captain Per El-ereth!” he stated, saluting sharply, “The Council of Elders requests your presence, sir!” “Looks like they have finally come to some sort of conclusion,” he thought to himself. “I’m on my way,” he replied to the runner, saluting back and formally dismissing him. He climbed down the slick, hardwood ladder from the lookout station he was in, and proceeded to make his way to the chamber of the Council. On his way there he was recognized and hailed by many of Talltree’s commoners. Being an accomplished soldier, and captain of the guard, Indri was practically a household name among many, whose reputation encouraged many young males to enlist in the guard. He was also rather dashing, and many females idolized him as such. Many of the older women found it amazing that an elf as successful as he, with good looks, wisdom, strength, height, and prestige, was still single. Whenever asked that same question, Indri merely smiled warmly, and shook his head, as if laughing off the thought. No one knew what really went on in his head, after all. He finally arrived at the doors to the chambers, where three of the chamber guards, robed in full-plate armor and wielding spears, bowed low in respect to Indri and opened the door for him. Indri stepped into the softly-lit room and walked in the middle of the room, in front of a tall, wide table, where all seven members of the Council of Elders looked down upon him with serious faces. “Captain Per-El’ereth,” the shadowed figure in the center of the table spoke out. Indri looked to regard him, but the light was too dim to recognize the identity of the specific elder, even for his elven eyes. It was likely Callenfae, leader of the Council of Elders, anyway. “Before we adjourn this Elder meeting we will inform you of a decision we have made regarding you in particular.” The voice paused briefly, but Indri made no reply. Continuing on, “As you are no doubt aware of, the numbers of our active guards is at all-time low for peacetime. As such we must call upon our allies for a small amount of confidential aide, otherwise surrounding powers may take advantage of our position. Therefore, in 2 days you and a small band will ride out to the eastern outpost of Talltrees, and rendezvous with a small platoon dispatched to us by the city of Gladius. They are our guests as well, and it is our wish that our finest warrior meet up with them. If there no questions…” “There are none, your honor,” Indri stated, bowing slightly. “Then this meeting is adjourned,” said the Elder, and after a slam of a gavel, all seven Elders rose and made their way past Indri and out the front entrance. An entourage of elite bodyguards followed the Elders out, except for two, who stayed behind and greeted Indri with warm smiles and handshakes of old friendship. “Friend Indri’ynar,” Uhmentarymster said, chuckling, “How are you faring these days? I have not seen you for almost two weeks now.” “Well, duty calls, as you know,” Indri said, shrugging, “No rest for the weary it seems.” “Too true,” Eniolissaryn put in, “but this is only a small episode. This city has survived much worse. I am only worried the orc bands do not try anything while you are en route to the rendezvous. You know they are more likely to attack smaller isolated bands.” “Yes, I know that only too well,” Indri said smirking, “but I have yet to encounter an orc that could give me a challenge. Maybe during the ride I will get lucky.” He flashed a proud smile. “Confident as usual,” Uhmentarymster said, shaking his head, almost in a mocking matter, “Well, safe journey nonetheless, my friend, we must be off.” The trio of comrades bid farewell to each other before going of in their own separate ways. Indri turned and headed to his room on the other side of the city. He knew the ride would actually only take one day, but he felt the council did not tell him something. It seemed to Indri that the chance of encountering an orc attack was actually much higher than he was being told. For one thing, the orcs were known to be causing activity to the south, but Eniolissaryn was just now implicitly warning him of orc attacks to the east. He frowned. If the orcs could afford to stretch along the perimeter of the orcs, then their numbers must have been vast. This was also far too organized to be a simple orc invasion, he suspected. Something else was behind all this … but oh how he would love to ride into their thick ranks, slaying a score with a single slice of his greatsword! He smirked, but cleared his face of that emotion, as he entered his room, and proceeded to gear up and notify the rest of his team. The next day, Indri-ynar double-checked his faithful steed Stormrage for extra supplies and equipment. He was in the stables of Talltrees now, on the forest floor, and did not have to wait long for his team to assemble themselves on time. At sunrise the team of four, consisting of a cleric, an archer, a scout, and a swordsman, all waiting upon their mounts for their captain to give the signal to ride east. Informally they called themselves the Dark Leaf Squad, and pledged their allegiance to Indri’ynar, making them loyal and trustworthy followers. As they rode, their formation was as efficient as it was strong. The scout led the ride, keeping an eye out at all times, and being the first to spot any dangers. Next was Indri himself, who would be a strong second in case they ran across any trouble, as well as being able to shout out orders to the rest of the group. In the middle rode the archer, whose long range finesse could lend aide in any direction. Following him was the group’s base and support, the cleric, who could keep and eye on everyone in the back and still provide help when needed. Finally, the swordsman picked up the rear, guarding them from behind, and being able to solidly fend off any attacks from the rear. However, despite their efficient maneuvers, they reached their outpost on time and without complications. So, with the rest of the day free, the band relaxed, mingled with the guards in the outpost, and relieved them from time to time. Stories were told and good drinks were opened, until the scout announced to them all at the end of the day that the band of Gladius dispatches was arriving. Everyone was amazed at the early arrival of the humans, but they made haste to receive them anyway. Assuming a commanding stance atop Stormrage, Indri rode forward to greet them. With the sun setting behind them, the leader of the human troupe rode ahead and greeted them. The band looked as if they were about twenty strong warriors, and Indri knew such help would be best placed at key junctions throughout the city. Indri looked at his newest comrade up and down and analyzed him. He was obviously as paladin, but of what patron Indri was not sure. “Greetings from Gladius. I am Paladin Brandt Cadman,” the man spoke out in Elven. “Sincere welcome from Talltrees. I am Captain Indri’ynar Per-El’ereth,” Indri replied, his eyebrows raising a bit, “and might I add am impressed by your fluency in our tongue.” The man nodded, “It is wise to know the language of your friends.” “Come inside out of this rain, we have been expecting you and wish for you to enjoy your stay,” Indri replied, flashing a warm smile. Brandt moved to accept his invitation, but then paused briefly when he looked over Indri in the face. The smile on Indri’s face flinched for a second, but he continued acting severe. As soon as the human band was indoors, the cleric moved closer to Indri, “My captain, he almost sensed through my barrier placed upon you. You need to be more cautious around him. He can sense malignant auras, so we should all be careful. As always our services are at your disposal.” Indri nodded silently, he frowned, hoping that the paladin did not sense the taint in Indri’s heart, which was the ruthless drive for power Indri secretly harbored for so long, allowing him to mercilessly excel in battle, and drive his heart to depths society would consider “evil.” However, Indri was not savage at heart, not like an orc. He was civilized, but there was always someone overly zealous who would come along, misinterpret his heart and attempt to bring it to light. Such people in Indri’s past have been long slain. Bringing himself back to reality, Indri entered the outpost, and after plenty of familiarization with the new arrivals, they all agreed to head back to Talltrees in the morning. It was early morning when Indri rose and stepped outside to chat with the sentry. There was a morning mist in the area, obscuring the area and blanketing much of the area with fog. Indri frowned. Visibility was poor, and this was not good weather to be moving around in. Fortunately his scout was an excellent tracker to boot, but he was more concerned about the safety of the humans. Being unfamiliar with the terrain and area, they were the biggest liability, no matter how good they may have been. He moved to hail the sentry on duty, but the small-framed elf ignored him, staring deep into the fog and continued to lean against a pol with his back turned to Indri. Believing he simply wasn’t heard. He walked closer to the elf, but then noticed a smell. He clasped his hand down on the shoulder of the elf and the sentry collapsed underneath the contact. Catching the elf in his arms, Indri was shocked to see two thick-shafted, black arrows. Indri now registered the smell he noticed before. It was orcs! They were here! He moved to alert the nearest guards, but suddenly three arrows flew from the mist and slammed into the wall uncomfortably close to his head. Figuring his cover was now blown, Indri decided to announce the attack by yelling, “Attack! Attack! We’re under attack! Mobilize now!” Tent flaps flew up and several guards came out, armor already donned, and being drawn. However, for an unfortunate few, as soon as they stepped out, massive orc arrows impaled them. Indri could not believe it, Never had he encountered such organized orcs. He peered over to gain a glimpse of he horizon and his heart sunk further. A black, formless wave was engulfing the terrain and moving towards the diminutive outpost with alarming speed. But, Indri knew that was no simple shadowing, rather, it was a massive army of orcs! Running headlong towards the outpost, Indri estimated that they had no more than one minute to decide whether to stay and fight or flee back to the city. Not a fool to pit the fifty-odd fighters in the outpost against the hundreds rushing towards them, he started yelling the commands to flee. “Drop everything, take your horse, fly with the wind to Talltrees! Fight as many as you can, but do not stop fleeing! Do not leave a man behind! Retreat NOW!” As if understanding him, and denying them that very action, the fg itself seemed to explode with a rainfall of deadly black arrows. Compensating for aim with sheer numbers, the soldiers in the eastern outpost were hard pressed to make way to their mounts and ride out alive. Indri himself grabbed a pole and slid down, whistling for Stormrage. His horse ran under him, and Indri leaped from where he was, onto the saddle of Stormrage. Kicking off, Indri was lucky that no orc arrows punctured him. Looking around him, he saw many others were not so lucky. It seemed as if shafts from the impossibly thick cloud of death already cut half of the numbers down. They were trapped, and he knew it. But, he was not going to give up so easily. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that all of the Dark Leaf Squad had survived, and surprisingly too did Brandt, although he only had about 5 of his men with him. About a dozen more from the outpost actually made it out, and together the score of warriors fled the ruined outpost. Almost as if moving up to engulf it, the black wave of orc savages fell upon the swiftly abandoned facility. Orc climbed and set fire to the output, putting their crude and heavy axes to work cutting down and utterly destroying the base. Looking back as they fled, the warriors felt panic rise up as they saw the orcs lose interest in the destroyed outpost and start to move after them. Somehow moving as a wave to their left, the warriors had no choice but to veer right. The orcs moved with impossible speeds, catching up to them and proceeding to fire arrows at them as they fled. The Dark Leaf’s trademark archer did his work as he guided his running mount in the right direction, while simultaneously firing arrow after arrow into the thick crowd of pursuers. His efforts were hardly noticed, as for every orc that fell, five more took its place. Pretty soon it came down to simply him and a handful of other archers simply grabbing arrows by the handful, notching them, and firing into the mass. Accuracy was irrelevant as one was guaranteed to hit something. Howling and hooting, the orcs came closer in their pursuit, not caring how many of them fell in the processing. Very frequently, an orc would stumble upon the thick underbrush of the woods, and thus get trampled to death by his uncaring army. “Captain, look to the right! A fortress! One of yours?” Brandt exclaimed. Indri frowned, he had thought that he had known all of the notable structures in the entire grounds of Talltrees, but this was new to him. He did know it certainly was not an established elven base, “No, it’s not ours, but let us ride to it anyway. Anyone in their right minds would let us in, or at least defend against this threat.” The ground, still soaked from the rains, was not helping their escape, and the horses struggled to keep ahead of the murderous mob. A few more outpost guards fell to the barrage, and the number of rider quickly diminished. They approached the stone fortress and noticed it was actually rather small up close. Not being picky, they thanked the heavens the iron doors were open and actually functioning. Immediately, they dismounted and combined their efforts to slamming the door shut in the face of the orcs, and locking it from within. Darkness enveloped them and several torches were lit in consequence. “Scour this place, seal off all entrances!” Indri quickly shouted out, and everyone complied. Within minutes, however, everyone returned to the entrance saying they were safe, for now. Outside the solid stonemason walls they heard the continuous eating and thrashings of orcs, but so far no point of the facility was breached. Noting that they could take a break, Brandt relaxed and said, “Now what? Now we’re just holed up in here to die. Personally, if it was all the same, I would have gone down fighting.” “I won’t tell you how to die, but now we should think of a plan to get out and inform my people of this invasion,” Indri promptly replied. He only counted about thirteen heads in the room, counting himself. He noted himself, the full four of the Dark Leaf Squad, Brandt, five of his men, and only three from the eastern outpost. He shook his head. He had started with over fifty, fled with a bout twenty, and only had a dozen here before him, half of them human. He did not like this situation at all, but who could blame him? Intent on not letting his subordinates detect his own anxiety, Indri released some of the tension by offering to explore the rest of this rather small fortress. However, his cleric piped up, “Captain, while examining a few of these rooms. I have firm belief that this is not a fortress ... but rather a temple. Though of what deity I cannot tell.” Indri looked around while absorbing those words. The building itself was only single story, but there was a basement leading downwards. The solid iron double door seemed to be the only obvious exit out. There were no windows, and there were wide staircases on either side of the door, leading up to a second story ledge that encircled the main room they were all standing in. There was a small iron door to the rear of the massive room, but it was wedged shut. To its right was the door to the basement. To its left was another locked iron door. The scout offered to pick these locks, but Indri declined. “Interesting,” Indri put in, “It’s rather well kept and durable for a place that is abandoned.” “That is because it is not abandoned,” growled a deep, guttural, monstrous voice. All humanoid heads turned to regard the source of the unexpected reply, and all heads turned to face a lone orc in the doorway, pushing aside the door as if it were as light as straw, “And now, you will all be sacrificed, to the dark one.” “The dark one? Is that the patron power of this temple?” Indri thought, as suddenly his archer let fly an arrow at the orc. However, the orc merely shifted his weight and dodged the arrow with surprising dexterity. Undaunted, the swordsman of the Dark Leaf rushed the lone orc and swung his swords heaviy at him. With blinding speed, the orc drew a wickedly serrated, black orcish blade and parried the blow. He then grabbed the swordsman by the face and hurled him at the cleric with inhuman might. The two crumpled in a pile, out cold. Taking advantage of its distraction, the scout moved to jab a thin, long dagger into its side. The orc released a surprised grunt, but ignored the pain as it grabbed the lightweight scout by his collar and flung him at the archer and those two fell unconscious as well. Indri was stunned, as his elite team was suddenly and effortlessly beaten by this monster of an orc. The three remaining elven warriors drew swords and stood beside Indri. “No choice but to fight for our lives now, Captain,” Brandt said in a hushed tone. Brandt then drew his own sword, as did his own company, and turned to the orc, “Your smarter than the average orc, I can tell. Are you the one who is coordinating the hordes out there? What do you have planned?” The orc chuckled, “First, your death. Then, the death of Talltrees. Then, conquest of all Gladius!” He laughed savagely. “You’re outnumbered, orc. You may as well surrender, for I will personally smite you so hard that not even the Nimbus will raise you back.” “You have no idea, human,” the orc said with another laugh. This signaled something to Indri who suddenly noticed something very wrong with the scenario. “Everyone… what happened to all of the noise outside?” At that moment, everyone noticed that the chaos going on outside suddenly had quieted down to nothingness. It was very unrealistic for a mob of war-crazy orcs. Indri turned to face the orc, “What’s going on and how did you get so tremendously powerful?” The orc snapped his fingers, and suddenly the room was crammed full of the same orcs as outside, leaving only a little room to encircle those still conscious. “The dark one gives me power to do as I want. Make me smarter, faster, better…” In the back of his mind Indri wanted the same, but right now he knew he had to get out of this scenario first. “One thing is for certain… we kill you and the orc hordes go away… ” Brandt said. He raised his sword, “Attack!” He then rushed the first orc and then the room exploded as the vice of orcs clenched down on the adventurers. Indri started to swing wildly, and he allowed his consciousness slip further from civility. He awakened the dormant spirits of rage and darkness welled up inside of him, and he then exploded in a frenzy of lethal hacks and swing. He did not care whom he was hitting so long as he was getting closer to the main orc while killing something along the way. Orcs after orc was chopped down in his path as Indri was actually making progress to his goal. In reality, the warriors were faring better here than in the woods, since the closed area restricted the amount of orcs that could attack them in any given time. Brandt and his fellow humans were not doing so bad. One of his human comrades slipped up nad was promptly skewered by and orc sword. Brandt avenged him with a mighty smiting attack and the orc simply exploded under the divine release. Two more of the elves fell under the swath of orc battle, but they had nobly taken down their fair share of the enemies before succumbing. Brandt actually noticed a rising presence of evil in the room, and searched around for it while expertly cutting down any orcs in his way. Another of his comrades fell, but the number of orcs in the room were quickly diminishing. Brandt finally found the course of evil, but was shocked to learn that it originated from Indri himself, who was nearing the chief orc. Brandt charged, hacking at all in this way and moved to the orc chief as well. After a few minutes, the swarm of orcs, having lost do their chaotic and unskilled swinging, had actually been subdued thanks to the efforts of the humans and elves. However, now only Indri, the unconscious Dark Leaf Squad, Brandt, and one last human were all that were left in the room besides the orc chief. “As I said before,” Indri spat, “I have yet to meet an orc that can give me a challenge.” Not replying, nor summoning any more orcs, the orc chieftain raised his sword high and sliced it into Indri. Indri blocked with his sword, but the sheer strength behind the blow nearly knocked him off his feet. However, before the orc could attack Indri while he was recovering, Brandt was there to take the heat off of Indri as his quick blow sent the orc on the defensive for once. Brandt’s companion move in to flank the orc, and Indri took a side. The orc was suddenly overwhelmed by three talented fighters in melee, and was surprised they were actually breaking through his defenses. A feint and slice on its part sent Brandt’s swordsman on the ground reeling in pain at the cut that would gruesomely not heal. Indri was starting to move out of his rage, and was tired now, but his mind would not allow his body to give in to tiredness. Now two on one, the orc seemed to be faring better even while flanked. The two swordsmen were on their toes, as one successful slice from the orc serrated sword would likely rip their innards out. The two of them danced around the stationary orc, establishing a rhythm and started to attack in sync with each other like only two skilled masters of the blade could. As if they both saw an opening, they both stopped, catching the orc off guard, and both swung horizontally at each other. The orc saw the intention of the attack, as with two string attack coming from two different angles, he could only block one, but would be killed by the other. But the orc grinned. Before either blade connected, the orc’s powerful legs leapt up and it successfully jumped over both swings. However, now both swordsmen grinned, as they had almost simultaneously recognized their opportunity. Reversing force on the hilt of their sword, the now both thrust upward at the temporarily airborne orc. Knowing it could not dodge in mid air, the orc had no choice but ot fall and be impaled upon both their swords. The chief orc gave out a yell of defiance as twin steel blades ripped through his torso and then then fell dead when the two swordsmen rakes their swords, dividing the corpse in two. Falling to the ground, each coated in blood, they both sigh a breath of relief as they had both survived the encounter. Unexpectedly, the howl of orc started up again and the three swordsmen looked up at one another. “They must have been released from their spell,” Brandt groaned, “meaning we still have an army of grumpy orcs outside.” Indri was about to say something when suddenly he heard a voice in his head. “Come to me if you wish to attain true power. Power enough to destroy all obstacles in your way with but a single thought.” Indri looked around but saw no new strangers. “Come to the basement, through the door the orc opened, and bring the near-dead swordsman with you.” “Are you the ‘dark one’ the orc mentioned?” Indri asked mentally. “I am, but I am also a siphon for great power meant only for those willing to grasp it. So what say you?” Indri could not deny it was a secret longing in his heart to attain magnanimous power such as this, so he decided it was worth a shot. After all, there was no other way there were going to get out of there alive and complete his mission. “Let me lift your comrade, and let us both retreat to the door through which the orc arrived. Surely there is an other way out than this one.” “An excellent idea,” Brandt agreed. The trio left limping out to the next room. Once inside, they were amazed how wide it was, though not as spacious as the previous room. There were runes covering all surfaces of the wall and a there was a wide black pool of thick, glowing liquid in the middle of the room. The liquid reflected all colors, and resembled the consistency of liquid metal. “Throw the man into the pool,” the voice said, “though with such a weak sacrifice, I can only give you a little power for a short time.” Indri smirked, which was noticed by Brandt. “What’s so funny?” he asked, but suddenly Indri heaved his wounded comrade into the pool, and the man only gave out one small cry of surprised before he was entirely engulfed in the pool. "What did you do!?" Brandt excalimed. The black pool suddenly started turning white-hot and released a flash of light which curved around and hit Indri. Not flinching, Indri suddenly felt very relieved as his power suddenly felt as if it was growing in strength inside. Becoming one with his new infusion, Indri flexed a little, wondering how on earth he got by with how weak he was before. He understood such power addictive, and tried to not let it go to his head. “Do as you please, but know that your time is short.” Indri nodded and concentrated, Suddnely, Brandt and the Dark Leaf Squad were enveloped in a soothing blue light and they were restored to consciousness and all wound were instantly healed. However, Brandt gave out a cry of schock, “Back away! Do not touch me with your magic, evil beast. I sensed it before, but now I am sure. You are a vessel of evil Indri’ynar! You cannot see it, but I do. There was a small aura of evil enveloping you before, but now it’s strength blinds me. Cease this at once! No captain of Talltrees can be so corrupt!” Indri frowned at him, not caring what the paladin said. He wanted power and he got it, no matter the means. The empowered elf looked up and blasted a hole in the roof to the temple, and flew up. Yes, he was flying! Such power seemed so inherent to him now. He lifted his team and Brandt up in the air with him and they overlooked the army of orcs surrounding the temple. A few noticed them, and several shot arrows, but few hit. Some did, but they exploded harmlessly against a shield Indri had somehow erected within a moment’s thought. “This is true power,” he thought as he extended his hand, and then balled it up in to a fist. Immediately, the area underneath them all exploded silently with the magnitude greater than any meteor swarm. The aftershocks of the massive explosion left the terrain and temple unscathed, and annihilated only the orc threat. The orcs each had their flesh and blood ripped from them first, leaving only their skeletons, which collapsed to the ground. Then, those same bones exploded into dust, leaving no trace of any foe left. All expect for Indri were speechless in the power just displayed. The instantaneous death and destruction of their foes was simply amazing. Indri sensed that he was running low on power, as it indeed as shortened by that tremendous blast, and he lowered all of them onto the room. Brandt scrambled away and had his sword drawn against Indri, “Foul beast! You are worse than the orcs you just slaugherted! What have you become!?” “I suppose I cannot trust you to keep this place a secret, Brandt” Indri said, “In that case I find I must dispose of you here.” The Dark Leaf squad caught the hint, as they backed away and let the two leaders duke it out. Brandt came flying at Indri, swinging once, missing, then swinging upward, nearly cleaving Indri face in two. Indri wished he had but a morsel of the awesome power left, as it would have been enough to dispose of Brandt, but he did not. “All you do is know how to fight, Brandt” Indri said, weaving and deflecting his strikes, “But know that your ideals are not always right, nor will they always prevail.” And with that, Indri smashed Brandt’s greatsword out of his hands and rammed his blade deep into Brandt’s chest. Brandt choked out some blood and cursed Indri. Indri threw the dying paladin to the side and said to him, “When I had ascended, I had learned something very interesting…. Death within that temple is permanent, and the Nimbus does not reach beyond its walls. You need not worry about the orcs anymore, as they will stay dead, but you will also never see your comrades again. You are lucky, as you have been slain outside of the temple, and not by my own ascended power. The Nimbus will bring you back, yes, but I promise you that you will not remember this episode at all.” Brandt said a prayer on his lips, but could not complete it as he slipped away into death’s grasp. Brandt suddenly woke up in the bed of Talltrees infirmary. There were several clerics around him, and also Indri and his band. “Captain Indri,” he said, “what...what happened?” Indri walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder with a wide smile on his face, “You're safe in Talltrees, now. You don’t remember? That orc really must have hit you hard. My friend, you helped save this city and slay the chief orc behind the armies to the south. You’re a hero!” “I … am?” Brandt replied, obviously confused, “Where are my comrades?” Indri then adopted an apologetic fce, “I am afraid they died valiantly while fending off the swarms of orcs in the eastern outpost. The assault was in the morning, and so too did all of the base fall. However, in the midst of the overwhelming odds, you and I rushed the orc chieftain and skewered him on our swords. Leaderless, the orc army bickered among itself and fled. However, had it not been for the lost lives of your friends and the noble guards in the outpost, the invasion surely would have reached an under guarded city.” “Oh yes… I remember now,” Brandt said, managing a smile, “but let me rest a while more. I am afraid that such events have left me confused, and I need some time to sort thing out in my mind.” “Take all the rest you need, for you have earned it, friend,” Indri said as he got up and left with the Dark Leaf Squad. “Excellent work” he whispered to the cleric, who beamed. It was his brainwashing spell that caused the paladin to forget all of it, and thus not be a threat to their security. After Brandt fell, they explored the entirety of the temple and found out that is was an old relic of a war so long ago. Evidently, this was a hidden sanctuary for priests of he Harvester so long ago, whose experiments helped nullify the Nimbus’s effects and maintain death to their foes. Indri was intrigued by this, as he thought the Harvester was merely a figure of legend from the past regarding only Gladius city, and not having anything to do with Talltrees. But now, the spirit of the temple was still active and willing to imbue power to any dark-hearted individuals and boost them to quasi-deity status themselves. It was to be noted that the temple was not to The Harvester himself, but rather used by his minons. The temple himself merely repected the Harvester figure, but did not really have much to do with it. Indri suspected that it was awaiting the rise of a new Harvester-like being, and it was biding its time by creating avatars of might and power. However, the only trick to making such a manifestation complete was by sacrificing individuals into its depths, and such an step Indri did not mind, in order to reclaim the immense power he held so briefly. He had asserted to the well that he already held allegiance to his allies, and his mind was his own, not subject to the temple’s wished. Another fact to note was that is introduced itself as the temple He'Jak'Ta, hidden shrine. Indri found it remarkable that the temple had an essence of sentience to begin with. Indri did not so much care about reviving the war so long ago, but he would not taking advantage of any powerful relics left in its stead. His Dark Leaf Squad already swore secrecy on their lives and loyalty to him, and they all agreed that their Captain deserved the power more than anymore. Stepping out to make his rounds a captain of the guard, and getting hailed as a hero by his fellow elves, Indri’ynar Per-El’ereth could not but smile in face of the new personal project he had that could finally fulfill his hearts deepest and darkest desires. |
| Scribelords08-28-05, 09:11 PM | “Oi.. Ch’ch’ili… if you don’t stop running ahead you’re gonna walk in trouble and get killed before we can help ya!” a gruff, husky voice shouted out. His casual inexperience with Common was evident, given the rough manner with which he pronounced his vowels and the sometimes delayed was he produced the grammar. His name was Le’therk, and his small brigade of illithid hunters were starting to regret taking along this curious little dromite after they found him stranded in an astral dune in the middle of the shifting planes of the Astral Plane. They had found him, revitalized him, nad continued on their trek, of which they were surprised to find so much energy in the small being. Dromites were not typically found on the Astral Plane, in fact, nothing really was, culture-wise, but even among travelers dromites were not a common sight. Upon reawakening, Ch’ch’ili, as they found him to be called, was promptly introduced to Le’therk, a martial master of the fist and tracker adept, Priena the Maenad medic, hunter, and magical support, and Grawp the half-giant axeman. A small party, perhaps, but all were skilled Illithid slayers, and all of whom were once thralls for illithids before fellow slayers saved them. Once the trio were saved from their days of slaving for the Elder Mind, they too devoted their lives to the cause of the fall of the alien society. Grawp was a thrall for the longest out of all of them, given that his natural bulk and strength lent aid to the mind flayers’ typical absence of such muscle. His body always seemed cramped inside the sturdy armor he always wore, but he always assured the prompter that he was fine. He was almost never without a helmet, however, given his fear of having his brain being forcibly removed, as he has seen happen to so many for so long. Though always ready to crush the skulls of his foes, he was not without humanity, and so his judgment of character and sacred preservation for life was invaluable to the group. Priena was relatively new as a thrall before she was freed. In actuality, she was intended to be a host for the cerebromorphosis mind flayer tadpoles undergone to supplement their body for growth, but Le’therk always told her she was thrall for her own protection. Her cunning and magic usages were shunned and of no use to the already cunning and psychically endowed illithids, so she was nothing more than food or cattle them from the start. On a more personally level, she was rather attractive from a human point of view, and this often served them little in the harsh wastelands they often traversed. However, it did serve as a reminder that even flowers could be a strong as oaks. The leader of group was undeniably the one-eyed, down-to-earth, and quick-handed Le’therk. As typical in appearance as most githzerai came, his only distinguishing marks, beside the host of blue body tattoos he bore, the black patch that covered the empty socket that once was his left eye. A slave his entire life to the cruel githyanki, he then became fodder to mindflayers after the githyanki were defeated in a racial war between the two. Le’therk was in line to be the next hosts for the cerebromorphosis, and he actually welcomed it at the time, having long given up any idea of freedom or life. The illithid applying the tadpole to him was particularly cruel and let it through it left eye, allowing the premature mindflayer to pop Le’Thark’s optical receptor and crawl through his central nervous system that way. The pain was excruciating at first, but Le’therk was immediately numbed form pain as the tadpole wormed its ways to the sensory outputs of his body. At this point Le’therk relaxed and let his body succumb to the slow losing battle he would have for his body. In a matter of twenty years he would look exactly like the mind flayer that gave him this tadpole. He might even have been one of those assigned to the nurseries to proctor such procedures. But, his consciousness would be dead at that time, so it was not as if he would care. The process to consciously die would take days actually, so he merely slept. Le’therk was rudely waken up one day by excrutiating pain, as he found himself strapped to an operating table with a cleric over him constantly healing him, and a surgeon of sorts plucking the flailing tentacled mass from his lower spinal column. After the arduous procedure, Le’therk learned that the Elder Brain of the illithid society over him was miraculously killed by a small army of slayers sweeping the planes. Luck complemented the force’s sheer power as they tore through the ranks of thralls and brain golems, and finally putting down the insidious mind that gripped them all. It took a short while of time for Le’therk to realize he was free, given that such a word, let alone a concept, wsa essentially unknown to him. However, after a year of getting used to seeing the world outside one city, Le’therk found that there were many things slaves just like him were being denied, or worse yet, as he remembered the new patch over his lost eye, thigns they were losing. At that point he put personal stock into the training to be an illithid slayer. With every kill he made he against the aberrations, a tiny bit of vengeance for all the years he endured was added for flavor. After a while he came under association of Priena and Grawp, two victims he rescued himself, and they were a 3-man cell ever since. Now, after so many years, Ch’ch’ili was just another straggler they found and rescued, although not from any particular foe, which was a welcome change of pace. The only problem was that they were hot on the middle of a hunt, and could not deviate to place Ch’ch’ili in care of a passing friendly band of travelers. They certainly did not trust him to be safe by himself, so begrudgingly they took him along. Le’therk never told him they wre really dispatached to investigate the curious congression of a few mind flayer sorcerors in an obscure sector of the Astral Plane. Such union were practically unheard of, as mind flayer sorcerors were naturally shunned by normal illithid society and selfish in their own seclusion to boot. The only thing that could possibly attract such dangerous and exiled foes would be a potential power so great they felt they could attain. And it was sucha power Le’therk and his team hoped to find and, if possible, destroy. If Ch’ch’ili had trained the psionic powers inherent in him, then hopefully he would use it to help himself survive this inevitable mess. After all, in all likelihood, Le’therk never went on his missions fully expecting to come out alive. He never tried explaining how he lived to this day, and to him it did not matter, as today was another ordeal to survive. Onward they quartet pressed, with Ch’ch’ili somehow expressing boundless energy, and curious ambivolance to the situations. It was likely because he did not know the situation, but his antic did raise a chuckle or two from the group, making Ch’ch’ili a much-needed source for relaxing humor. Passing the thousands of Technicolor portals that dotted the Astral Plane, a transitive Plane used many to cross from one plane to another. Taking occasional rest breaks and references to their third dimensional compass, an asset for any traveler on a morphic plane, the group made good progress. After the fourth day of encountering Ch’ch’ili, a being who still did not confer to them his own background or any personal information other than his name, they found what they were looking for. It was like a pillar of sand rising out of the otherwise bland, gray ground that composed the material side of the raw Astral Plane, though it only appeared to be sand and was really astral essence like anything else here. It had a few natural windows, though they hardly overviewed anything scenic. Though the structure seemed sturdy, it was still ectoplasm, which meant its integrity was proportional to the power that crafted it. Being power illithid sorcerers, Le’therk took the assumption that it must have been harder than steel in this case. Though the majority of the plane mirrored that of other planes, thus making it the ideal medium for transition, there was actually a small portion of it that was authentic and original. Such pockets were not hard to find, but usually strenuous to get too, given that one had to survive a long trip through the astral plane just to get there. There was no place on any plane that materialized next to it, in other words. Priena looked over to Ch’ch’ili. Though the rest of them were nigh undetectable by magical or psionics means, and the vision of mind flayers was limited, they had a very good chance of getting in undetected. The same was not true for their dromite friend however. His undisciplined psionic aura was likely a beacon in the sky for the mind flayers, and she would not be surprised if they were ready for them. Grawp and Le’therk knew that too. Regardless they had to deal with it. “Ch’ch’ili… now it is the time for life or death. I will not force you into this mission, but if you wish to accompany us, then you must be as unseen as you possibly can.” Le’therk struggled slightly to put forth the right words. The three of them were so used to communicating telepathically, that they found it uncommon to use their natural speech to convey thoughts. They did so for Ch’ch’ili’s benefit, but they often wondered if the little fellow cared. He often seemed like he was in a world of his own. Sometimes energetic, sometimes serious. At this time, however, he merely nodded to them and stood in place, signifying that he would stay with them. The githzerai sighed, hoping he would nto turn out to be a liability. “Very well then… Grawp shall carry you so we may move quickly. We will be dashing for that second story window there.. hold on tight.” Once more Ch’ch’ili nodded with no verbal response and subsequently climbed up on top of the large shoulders of Grawp. Grawp used one hand to hold onto the small dromite as Pirena and Le’therk primed themselves for the dash. In sync in body and mind, the three runners dashed down the hill of the fold of the land towards the ectoplasmic tower. Covering ground faster thanks to psionic enhancements, the trio also easily leapt thrity feet into the air through an open window with similar enhancements. With no trouble did all three make it into the tower, upon which Grawp let down Ch’ch’ili who immediately began to sniff the air around him. Knowing dromites to have particularly keen senses of smell, Le’therk paid close attention to Ch’ch’ili and any findings he may have uncovered. They were on a curving stairwell that circled the tower clockwise, and as such the stair went upward to their left, and downward to their right. Grawp and Priena were already on their guard. Ch’ch’ili started to make his way up the stairs, and told the rest of the party that something … dangerous … could be sensed that way. Surprised at how forcefully the little dromite conveyed this, the party heightened their guards and wards as they progressed upward. Upward and upward they ascended, and they neared the top of the ridiculously long stairwell. Suddenly, Le’therk paused, “Something isn’t right. We’re searching for a strong signature of power that attracts even these mind flayers ... So why can’t we sense anything yet?” He turned around, but as he did so, the inner wall of the stairwell exploded and a fist from a minotaur collided with Le’therk’s light frame, sending him flying into the outer wall. Grawp’s quick hands grabbed the githzerai before he burst out out of the wall entirely, and set him up right. Priena was already imbuing a power into her blade and they all knew what to do against this evident thrall of the mind flayers. The only one out of the loop but aware of the danger was Ch’ch’ili. The minotaur was strong yes, but not exactly what he was smelling earlier. Regardless, the little dromite reached into his traveling pack and produced a small crossbow. The minotaur stepped out of the rubble towards the quartet and lowered his horns, prepared to impale the nearest offender. Grawp was there, though, ready to grip the bull by the horns, literally. His own might and the minotaurs was evenly matched, which was a compliment to Grawp, but he insisted that the others go on ahead. Le’therk agreed, knowing full well that there were likely dozens more thralls just like this one ready to throw their lives down to protect the mind flayer in charge. Priena granted them all the ability to fly with but a moment’s thought, and the remaining trio lifted off and flew through the crumbling hole. They were instaly glad they took to the air first, as they passed overhead of dozens of angry, and thankfully grounded, thralls. On a balcony above, conducting the symphony of avid chaos like a group of motionless conductors. As their beady, pale eyes watched on, pretty much nothing moved about them except the seemingly independent movement of their tentacled faces. The alien heads turned as one to look upon the quartet as if they were expected, but not worrisome, flies. One of them opened their four tentacles wide and arced its head back. Both Priena and Le’therk knew what was coming and readied their counter. A semi-visible ripple in the air emanated in a cone-like spread from the mind flayers, Priena was closer and so the waves hit her, but not to the mind flayer’s expected outcome. She seemingly slashed her blade into the thin air, but really reflected the attack back at her attackers. Woefully close together as they were, most of the congregation was afflicted instantly by their own paralyzing attack. “Attack those still mobile!” Le’therk shouted, and both Priena and Ch’ch’ili complied. Landing down among the dozen illithid sorcerors, rare alone, much less in groups, and proceeded to blitz any that were not helpless in paralysis. The trio were mowing through the surprised mind flayers, dodging spells, and striking hard. Even Ch’ch’ili was offering excellent help, firing a bolt here or a mental attack of his own. Le’therk dove down with a heel jutted out, and slammed it down into the skull of a mind flayer upon dive. The rest of the body was flung down after the head caved inward, and the githzerai was already at work, allowing his feet and hads do the talking. While disciplined in the art of making own’s body a complete weapon, Le’therk did not exactly study any single art. He used his own blend of martial prowess, borrowing a little from the Iron Fist style of breaking bones and dealing hard physical damage, and from the polar opposite of Soft Palm, a style targeting the internal physiology of the target. The result was a deadly mix of crushing limbs, spines, and faces, and attacking joints, weak spots, and paralyzing points. With his already high speed and accuracy, Le’therk was making excellent progress on his own. He spared a glance over to Ch’ch’ili, and was surprised to see the little dromite had a few kills of his own under his name. Ch’ch’ili was rushing around the legs of the tall, lean illithids, dodging grasping tentacles left and right, and launching a psionic counter attack. The githzerai leader turned his head toward Priena, however, upon hearing a shriek and seeing her head suddenly being grasped by a fortunate mind flayer. He hurried to help here, but saw she was already being helped as a a thick-shafted axe flew from seemingly no one and hacked into the ead of the illithid, killing it in one stroke. Grawp heaved himself up onto the balcony, having taking the mundane way of taking stairs, and showed his confrontation of the minotaur was successful. He admitted he took a little longer than normal to get up here, but he had to wade through a veritable sea of mindless drones to get up here. Reunited, the quartet hacked, pummeled, and blew away their flat-footed foes all away reletively quickly. There were a few close a calls, of course, and many times, in the thick of things, a dangerous number of tentacles latched onto each of their heads. After a few minutes of solid close combat fighting, however, something most illithids were not very good at, the four-person cell was victorious. Now standing over a dazed and confused mass of former thralls, they progressed with their assignment, and left it to the former slaves of the mind to sort things out. Returning to the stairs, they hurried upward, sensing that whatever attracted the hermits of the illithid community was very close. When they reached the top of the stairwell, they saw there was a final, straight stairwell leading up into the open-air roof. Stepping out into the pebbled roof, the quartet saw what all the fuss was about. There, someone caught in a chance rift in between dimensions was a beast of some kind. It likened a steed, but it was much too wispy and composed of the purest shadow to be any mortal beast. At times the shadow likened a horse or sots, and at other times a terrible winged dragon, and that only added to the confusion. Whatever it was it was vary large, dwarfed them all, and emanated the exact sort of aura they were hunting. They talked among themselves, idly forming ideas about he irregular creature’s nature, race, or even origin. None of them had any decisive ideas, however, and were not paying that much attention as Ch’ch’ili strayed closer to the beast to have a better look. The beast noticed the approach of the small figurine too, and bent low to investigate. There was a period of mutual sniffing between the too, and Priena nudged her two make companions to direct their attention to the humorous scene. However, the large beast suddenly gave a shrill shriek, one so ear-splitting it cracked the very floor around them, and lunged for Ch’ch’ili. The little dromite scrambled to get away, but its legs were simply too small. Uttering a spell quickly, Priena teleported herself between Ch’ch’ili and the beast, and prepared to give a swing at the beast. Her blade connected with the oncoming head, which at the moment was long, thick, and snake-like, and somehow successfully keep it at bay. The head snapped back after the hit, but then Priena noticed what was happening to her sword. In a mix of awe and fear, she saw the shadow essence of the beast she just struck eat away at her sword like potent acid. She dropped the blade, which was noted by the beast, which took this opportunity to lunge once more, this time at Priena. Latching its jaws around her soft body it proceeded to attempt to swallow her down. However, a fist coated in emerald green flame, the result of a massive expulsion of psionic energy, slammed into the side of the jaw of the beast, forcing it to drop Priena and have Le’therk drop down with a cry for him arm. Like the sword before it, the black mass was slowly easting its way up Le’therk’s left arm, leaving nothing behind. Rolling on the ground in intense pain, the black mass finally dried up near the cuff of the shoulder, after already having eaten the entire arm. The githzerai moaned in pain, but rolled over to see the state of Priena. Grawp was already tending to her, but did not pleased as he saw her state. She was in some sort of unconscious, spastic state, with several black wounds cut deep inside her. Whatever she endured, she needed medical attention immediately, but Grawp knew it would be a long, deadly trek back to the nearest friendly medic. None of the remaining three forgot about the lethal beast hover above them all, but they noticed it was not taking this moment to attack, as if waiting by choice or command. Whatever it was thinking, it definitely seemed sentiently conscious of what it was doing. A dark cloud of black smoke began to collect over the beast and start to push the beast out from the between the rift it was stuck in. Grawp drew a pair of throwing axes and primed them for hurling. As his back craned back for the twin shot, a black pillar shot out from the sky and slammed down upon him like a hammer to a nail. Not only did it break Grawp’s attack, but also likely his arms as well. A circular crater sizeable for small meteorites burst out from the impact point with Grawp as the epicenter. The roof shuddered violently under the endured cave-in, but it would not endure for long. Forcing the hardened ectoplasm, which was harder than steel, to collapse in upon itself, was no small feat of strength, and Le’therk slammed his remaining fist into the ground, doubting Grawp could survive such physical strain even after that. He was further shocked to hear the floor shudder once more and he heard the floor on the level below them give way as well. Like an axe whose force had not run through, the mysterious lethal black force had plowed their burliest fighter through two stories of solid metal. He struggled to get up, but the paralysis from the phantom-like beast was still controlling his body. Like an ominous moon rising in the horizon, the black mass levitated up, and Le’therk saw once and for all that it was not formless at all. Rather it has a very distinct shape, but any detail beyond that was impossible to discern. Perhaps it was Le’therks stressed body, but it seemed to him that his eyes were actually burning upon view of this forboding darkness. It not feel evil however, as Le’therk knew full well what that sensed like. No, this was something else, with no other word to profile it but one: Death. His head sunk back to the ground, as he felt a sudden wave of hopelessness wash over him. It reminded him of his days as a future host for cerebromorphosis, in which he knew there was no point in struggling, for the end was all too near. The figures resembled that of a large, cloaked humanoid, but he would not dare assume its race, if any. He likened it to a wraith of sorts, but given its stature, no normal wraith could even compare. His black tattered robes draped down like a malevolent cape whose opaque shadow was as dark as a starless night sky. Though he braved to look into the drape of the hood, he saw nothing. Not a face or a hint thereof. He closed his eyes, unable to bear more. It then struck him that Ch’ch’ili was still out and about. He shut his eyes tight and hoped sincerely that the little dromite would simply run away as fast as he could right now. He opened back up his single good eye and was immediately regretful that he did. For, instead of running away from the indescribable darkness, he was actually going to face it! And, despite all his pain, Le’therk merely smirked at the ironic, but likely futile, courage as his vision blurred and the world fell dark. Meanwhile, for the tiny dromite, facing the figure that hovered above him like a tattered black coat stuck on a pole was not so much the only option he had left in order to at least try to survive. To do nothing would have resulted in death. To try and run would have resulted in death. And, he somehow doubted the shadowy presence could be reasoned with. A sudden otherworldly shriek commanded his attention, and the beast that was once stuck in a rift between worlds was now free. Moving now, the ghost-like menace situated itself upon the back of the mount, as if now completing a pair. Now, as though anticipating the diminutive Ch’ch’ili’s intention to fight, it sat there, ready for any ensuing action. Not waiting to present itself with anything formal like an introduction, Ch’ch’ili rushed the presence now. He powered up and orb of mentally manipulated atmospheric pressure and launched it with the velocity and impact of a deadly arrow. He poured everything he had into this shot, as he did not count of being presented with the chance to have a second shot. He skidded to a stop, however, as he saw his best attack explode harmlessly against a transparent shield he did not notice earlier. Falling to his hands and knees, he did not see the maw of darkness that opened up in the sky, and he looked only too late as he saw a maddening chaos move to engulf him entirely. He scrambled to get out of the way, and somehow escapes, as the maw struck the ground where he once kneeled. Upon all this did the dark voyeur watch, atop his equally dark steed, from which he did not move at as the dark souls he controlled did all the work for him. The maw burst forth a dozen new tentacles, all of which grabbed and lunged for Ch’ch’ili. Moving faster than he thought possible, the dromite dodged a tentacle to his left, blasted away a tentacle to his right with a psionic blast, but was speared in the arm by a tentacle from his blind spot. Instantly he felt his arm fall dead as he lost all feeling and control there. It was as if his arm and only his arm dies and was now only a numb, useless weight. He stumbled to his face as found himself slowly being dragged back to the dark figure. Desperately, feebly trying to avoid as fate he likely sensed was unavoidable, he clawed the ground as he was dragged. Another tentacle dove down and stabbed his free arm, and one more impaled his torso through the back. Though no blood was drawn from the strangely immaterial, yet physical appendage. Ch’ch’ili, now with nothing to help in, was drawn into the darkness. This is what it feels like to be Ch’ch’ili. Your body is redefining the word pain on a periodic basis of seconds. Each moment you seem to live is a moment longer you wished you died. The vision in your compound eyes see the horrors around you from a thousands different angles. This is likely the best time you wish you did not have vision better than a mortal man, as your physiology prevents you from closing them against your horrible predicament. You find your chained to an iron pole of a meter thickness with chains that burn as if forged by raw hellfire. Several steel stakes are nailed through your body to keep your body in place and the blood from each wound seems to tortuously trickle down with no sign of stoppage. ‘Pain’ is an understatement, as you also realize you should have died within the first instant, but are somehow bizarrely alive, and with rationale thought to understand it all, no less. Your breathing seems force, and as you struggle to test your bonds you find your appendages have been severed completely, again with wound that do no seal up. Your head at least, is the only thing that can move freely and with this you perceive the prison you have become entrapped within. It is a dead plane, with a blood red sky and a dried, cracked dirt ground. Dotted across it are thousands of iron poles just like yours, and are iconic of tombstones, perhaps. You see skeletons on each of these poles, most mutilated like you, and offer a realistic glimpse of a fate that will come with time for you. The only sign of life, apart from your dwindling are hairless, eyeless dog-like monsters, somewhat like pittbulls, who leap up with impressive strength, and snap at the bones and chains of those already fallen. A few eye you and herd at the base of your pole, wagging their tails at your demise. As they begin their ritualistic leaping and missing, you lean your head back, finally accepting this as the end. It is at this moment the giant-sized, black-cloaked figure, the seeming warden of this plane of sentence and death, appears in mid-air above you. Immediately the freakish canines hustle to leave. Gasping, you feel it is time for final words, and with no one else to say anything to but your own executioner, you ask something simple. “Who are you?” Slowly the head shifts downward to recognize your question. Slowly you hear air upon your ears play out, “….Aaaabbbsssssooollluuuttteee….Iiiiinnn neeevvvviiitttaaabbbiiilllliiiitttyyy…” Abosulute inevitability, and with this you realize there is only one personality of that description: Death itself. You lower your head in resignation and the sky’s red blackens. The canine-fiends in the distance begin to howl, but their voices resembles that of shrill human screams in the preclusion for death. Your eyes cry fresh blood as a thousand world’s worth of chaos begin to consume your soul, and opening your mouth to scream as well, you say nothing as all air is stripped from your lungs… ** “How is he looking?” Le’therk asked, as the doctor placed down an examination rod and shook his head. “Not good… no change in condition,” he replied, and turned to look down at a convulsing Ch’ch’ili. The dromite was alive, somewhat, but his reduced state of frequent seizures, and occasional unintelligible babbling, he seemed to have been the victim of an Insanity Spell. Whatever happened to him with the dark being was something only he could tell, and that was something that did not look like it was happening. The githzerai himself was bandaged very thoroughly, and wiped his brow with his only remaining hand left. One eye and now only one arm. He wondered just how much of him would be left before his line of work finally killed him. The unit leader remembered clearly what had happened after he woke up. The first thing he did was see if the dark figure was there, but he was not. It seemed to have left, as well as all the thralls, but those were likely due o the loss of their illithid leaders. Instead, he found Ch’ch’ili in this same state, convulsive and erratic, with no light in his eyes. He scooped him up, then Priena, who was still breathing deathly shallowly, and walked down two stories to check up on Grawp. He was honestly surprised to find the half-giant still alive, and although severly battered, Grawp explained that he used high level psionics during the entire attack to simply endure it. Still not letting his wounds get the better of him, the quartet left the tower. After a hard journey back they returned to their camp of slayers and were immediately booked to the medical ward. Le’therk’s drastic though simple injuries had him out the quickest, while Grawp was still in intensive care. He would live, but he seriously needed both physical and mental rest and treatment. He felt grief for Priena, who unfortunately died during surgery. Her wounds were too grievous and overdue to attention that her body could not hold out for the extended trip. As their chief medical support, it was woefully ironic it her life was the only one lost. And then there was Ch’ch’ili… He thought back to that which they encountered. The base declared their mission a success, though even admitted it was at a terrible cost. He had given a lot of thought on the dark being, and decided that is very likely was a lesser offspring of Death itself, given its might and … his instinct. He supposed Death itself was lawful in and of itself and hardly evil at all, as it had not reaped them all on sight. Very likely it felt the time was not ripe or it was not scheduled on its daily agenda. After all, they had bumped into it, and not the other way around. When Death knocked on one’s door, it was your time to go, after all. Except for Priena, he supposed it was not their time to go. However, that was not to say it did not chastise them for their intrusion, given the extent of their losses and Ch’ch’ili’s condition. Nodding at this, Le’therk stood up stright now and proceeded to go his own bed. He gave one last look at the unfortunate dromite he had encountered and mostly brought to his own crippling. With that he closed the door to the medical room behind him and walked on. Le’therk knew it was only a matter of time before he himself would encounter Death for himself, and did not bother to guess where that particular avatar of Death was now. Such idle explanations were too troublesome, he always said, as time was better spent simply trying to survive the rest of the day. With that, Le’therk, now a leader of a broken cell, clutched the stub that was once his arm, and prepared to make note of this dismal day in his daily journal once he got to his room. |
| Scribelords07-30-06, 03:53 AM | Reclaiming Corona Voluntarily or not, anyhow Ixenthor had relinquished both his legendary weapons Ixenthor's Edge and Ixenthor's Point to the Harvester's avatars. Though he would surely be powerful enough to continue his mission without any other weapons too much was at stake to take any chances now, and this was the reason why he left the region for a couple of days and ventured northward, always northward, far beyond the last reaches of human civilization. To understand the reason behind this one has to be versed in ancient lore. The archangel roamed the land tens of thousands years ago at the dawn of humankind when they had just invented scripts, and even elven history barely had any mentionings about this time. Still, in all these writings the celestial was known to wield a mighty artifact called Corona. This blade is said to be forged in the heat of the sun itself and that it is even imbued with the essence of the stellar body. When Ixenthor left the world and returned to the heavens more than eight millenia ago he left the sword behind but hid it in a place no one would be able to find, or retrive. Behind the Spine of the World and the vast desolate Ice deserts, right near the northest point possible lies the Valley of the Gods. No mortal would be able to find the way to here, and no magic would protect from the unnatural cold that is said to freeze one's breath to solid ice the moment it leaves the nose. Ixenthor stood at the entrance to Evermelt, a huge cave that led deeper into the colosal mountain that is the base of Mount Celestia. As he walked through the icy tunnels his light banished the darkness that reigned for so long in this icy paradise. Breathtaking formations of crystal clear ice could be seen everywhere, so beautiful that it would rival the stunning effects of a nymph's looks; the image of the passerby was reflected from every angle. Still, Ixenthor walked on - ignoring the view - for he had a more important matter to think of: the guardian of the blade. Finally he reached the center of the cavern system (that would have fooled everyone else than Ixenthor himself). A magnificent titanic cavern opened before the archangel: transluctend crystals in various colors rose from the icy floor that seemed to be made from glass, so polished it was; the ice formations dominated every corner of the cave and an eery yet comforting sound filled the air. Ixenthor made another few steps over the slippery surface which didn`t bother him in the least and came to a halt infront of a deep chasm that crossed the cavern. He knew the chasm had no end and that every creature attempting to fly over it would drop at halfway, irretrivably lost forever. On the other side, his quest's objective: Corona, the flaming blade stuck into a solid block of ice, its radiance the only other light source in the cavern. Suddenly the shadows on the walls seemed to move and a black swirling mist arose, quickly taking form. The vapors grew and grew in size and density until they resembled a black colosal behemoth, its head reaching nearly to the top of the cavern, with red eyes the only prismatic distinction in the fury form. No sooner had he finished his shaping when he drew in the icy air and released a barrage of ice shards, frost winds, and vision blocking snow on the angel. The blast's effects blocked clear sight for a couple of seconds but when the haze finally disappeared Ixenthor still stood on the same spot, apparently unharmed, at least he had his eyes shielded. "IXENTHOR!" a deep booming voice came from the ...thing. "NOW THAT IS A SURPRISE! HAD I ONLY KNOWN THAT IT IS YOU... YOU KNOW, MY EYES AIN`T THE BEST ANYMORE AFTER SO LONG A TIME!" - "DON`T TAKE DON`T TAKE ME FOR A FOOLME FOR A FOOL, BELAXIPHON!BELAXIPHON" Ixenthor's many-layered echoing voice responded "I AM HERE TO RECLAIM MY BLADE AM HERE TO RECLAIM MY BLADE!" The behemoth hesitated a second then responded "OF COURSE YOU MAY FREELY TAKE WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY YOURS." and with a wave of his hand a bridge appeared out of thin air and connected the two sides of the cavern with each other. Ixenthor didn`t waste another second and walked towards the bridge. As he crossed it Belaxiphon continued "FOR EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS I HAVE GUARDED THIS BLADE AS WAS OUR DEAL" Ixenthor neared the end of the bridge "TO STAND WATCH UNTIL THE BLADE IS RETURNED TO ITS RIGHTFUL OWNER", then finally the angel stood infront of the ice block. "NOT A SINGLE BEING ENTERED EVERMELT IN ALL THAT TIME AND NOT A SINGLE BEING HAS TOUCHED THE SWORD" Ixenthor gripped the hilt of Corona and with a tug freed it from its ancient prison. As he held the blazing weapon infront of him to inspect every nuance Belaxiphon's voice took on a more serious tone "AND NOW THAT I HAVE FULFILLED MY PART OF THE DEAL IT IS TIME THAT YOU FULFILL YOURS!" - "WELL THEN WELL THEN, WHAT IS ITIS IT YOU REQUIREquire?" The behemoth's slow deep laughter let Ixenthor narrow his non-existent eyes "FUN... HO HO HO, I WANT TO WREAK HAVOC!!" The behemoth took a couple of groundshaking steps while he balled his mighty claws to fists "MY REQUEST IS THAT YOU AND YOUR OTHER ALLIES STAND ASIDE WHEN I RAVAGE AROUND THE WORLD, LAYING WASTE TO EVERY CITY, SLAYING EVERY INHABITANT UNTIL THE WORLD IS BEREFT OF ALL LIFE. AND THE BEST PART IS THAT YOU CANNOT DENY MY WISH FOR YOU ARE BOUND TO THE DEAL AS I HAVE BEEN AND YOU ARE FORCED TO ACCEPT MY TERMS! HOHOHO YOU CANNOT IMAGINE HOW LONG I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS MOMENT AND NOW THE TRIUMPH WILL BE MINE. I WILL SAVOR EVERY GRIMACE YOU`LL MAKE WHEN I RIP INNOCENTS APART INFRONT OF YOUR EYES. SO NOW, ACCEPT!" Ixenthor took a few steps forward "I AM A BEING OF LAWBEING OF LAW SO I MUST OBEY TO THE CONTRACTOBEY TO THE CONTRACT. I WILL ACCEPTI WILL ACCEPT YOUR TERMS AND STAND ASIDEAND STAND ASIDE". The following laughter of Belaxiphon shaked the walls even more than his steps, and then, with a great leap he jumped over the chasm ...and crashed into an invisible barrier. "WHAT? WHY AM I STILL TRAPPED IN HERE? WE HAVE A DEAL! LET ME FREE!!" - "AND I HAVE ACCEPTED TO HAVE ACCEPTED TO YOUR TERMS! UNFORTUNATELY YOU ARE BOUNDYOU ARE BOUND TO THE CONTRACT TOO AND IT SAYSTO THE CONTRACT TOO AND IT SAYS THAT YOU WILL STAY HERE UNTIL THE SWORD IS RETURNEDTHE SWORD IS RETURNED TO ITS RIGHTFUL OWNER WHICH IS AMAUNATOR, GOD OF THE SUNGOD OF THE SUN!" - "BUT AMAUNATOR IS DEAD!! ROOOAAAARRRRR YOU FOOLED ME!! WE HAVE AN AGREEMENT!" Belaxiphon looked at the bridge, then looked into Ixenthor's direction who lifted himself 30ft in the air then broke into a dead run over the bridge which slowly disappeared mere inches behind his feet! It seemed as if the archangel wouldn`t make it but a splitsecond decided his fate when he stood on solid ground again ...on the other side of the chasm. He looked back towards the still shocked colosus, then continued his run towards the exit, booming shouts accompaning him "IXEEEENNTHOOOOOR!!" his voice growing fainter with every step... http://home.arcor.de/caterane/Ixenthor/Ixenthor-flamesword1.jpg - Ixenthor reclaims 'Corona' in Evermelt Short story I wrote long long ago about how Ixenthor got his weapon back after his reappearance on the Prime Material Plane after millenia of absense. |
| Scribelords09-24-06, 12:14 AM | In Darkest Night Part 1: In Twilight’s Descent The wind rustling through the treetops. The creak of branches disturbed from long rest for seconds by that wind before settling back into their centuries-accustomed positions. The occasional twitter of birds followed by periods of silence. This was the way Selyómë Brightmoon liked to spend her days. The solitude of the duties of a forward scout was far preferable to the constant chatter of the patrol companies. Soft, natural sounds, and no idle chit-chat to filter out. Out here she could let her mind wander freely, undistracted, while her body performed its duties, only bothering her if something important came up. She could wonder about the arcane arts she had recently learned the rudiments of. She could fantasize about her future as a solo guard or a spell-archer. She could watch her cat familiar, Lumbë, in amusement as she chased squirrels futilely through the treetops they patrolled. Yes, this was the life she enjoyed. Selyómë was the youngest daughter of House Brightmoon, the greatest High Elf house of Elerania, an Elven kingdom hidden deep in a great forest on a continent of Othala east of Talas. Elerania was perhaps one of the best-kept secrets of the Elves, a retreat known only to those that inhabited it and the eldest loremasters and wisest rulers of a few other kingdoms. Elves of every kindred save only the corrupt Drow were welcomed here – High Elves, Gray Elves, Wild Elves, Wood Elves, and Sea Elves lived together in Elerania, the Sea Elves spending most of their time in the huge lake at the center of the forest. Every century rulership of the kingdom was passed to the greatest house of a different kindred in order to ensure continued peace, while a council of elders including all the great houses of the five kindreds acted as advisors to the current rulers and issued edicts that were best decided on by all. The secrecy of the kingdom was jealously guarded. Any Elf who had set foot in the kingdom could only leave under a spell-bound oath not to reveal the place to any non-Elf and only to Elves who would not betray its existence, and the borders were continually patrolled by both individual guards and small patrols who intercepted any non-Elven intruders that ventured deep enough into Brightwood, or as they’d heard the humans called it “Feyhaunt Forest,” to potentially stumble across them. Sometimes they could manage just to frighten off or use illusions to misdirect such intruders, sometimes they had to be killed – such was no doubt why the humans had given the forest their name for it. This was Selyómë’s job as a forward scout for one the patrols – deal with intruders in small numbers herself, or inform the patrol if intruders too powerful or too numerous for her were found. It had been a quiet day thus far. No intruders to interrupt her musings, no sendings from the patrol’s mage requesting her to return for a report, no other patrols or solo guards run into. The sun was well past noon, and even paranoid Lumbë seemed relaxed by the uneventful day of solitude. It was a good day indeed. That, of course, was when she heard the gruff sound of human voices. Whispering a few instructions to Lumbë, Selyómë sent her familiar out to scout out the sound. The cat was better than even some master Elven scouts at stealth, so she could sneak up on any group of humans with no trouble. A few moments later she returned, hardly making a sound as she moved gracefully along the dark brown branches of the tree Selyómë was settled in, and scratched on the branch twice. Only two men, then. Good – no need to bother the rest of the group. She advanced, picking her way carefully through the bright green treetops, until she spotted the pair. They were moving slowly, hacking through thick foliage with an oversized curved blade – probably a falchion, from the looks of it. The one holding the blade was a bear of a man, tall enough that he might have been a Half-Orc were it not for his lack of any Orcish features to speak of, and heavily muscled. He was dressed in a simple brown outfit with short sleeves and an open shirt, and was sweating profusely, causing a stench that made Selyómë’s nose crinkle even from the good 20 feet above him she was. The other was leaner, less hairy (though a well-trimmed beard marked his face), and dressed in an almost elven style of greens and yellows more suited for the forest, carrying a rapier at his hip and a bow on his back. “Yer missing tha point,” the bear-man half-yelled back at his companion. “I’ve told ya a thousand times by now: if we can find out who or what has been makin’ folks that come here disappear, we can get paid right royally by the mayors o’ the villages ‘round here, more so if we bring back proof o’ what we say!” His friend gave a reply that sounded less than convinced, “Yes, I’m sure. The mayors of farming villages that make less in a year than my old lady does in week with her knitting will surely be able to pay us mass sums of gold. For crying out loud Jack, have you even considered that we may not be able to handle whatever is out here, much less whether we’ll actually get any decent payment if we survive?” “Bah, we handled them Orcs back in the desert fine enough, and they had us outnumbered ten ta one. And even if them villages can’t pay much each, theres enough o’ ‘em that the combined payments’ll be right royal.” The slender man shook his head in exasperation. “Theres no getting through that skull of yours, is there?” As they spoke Selyómë followed them slowly and quietly through the branches of nearby trees, considering what to do. They didn’t seem like the types to be frightened off easily, but it would be best if she didn’t have to kill them. She didn’t relish unnecessary bloodshed. Grasping the holy symbol that hung about her neck and whispering a quick prayer for luck to her God, Fenmarel Mestarine, she moved ahead of the men quietly and pulled from her belt a scroll that was given to each forward scout in a company capable of using magic. She read off the words to the spell, a simple yet convincing illusion, and before the men’s eyes the likeness of huge muscular monster sporting insectile eyes and mandibles appeared. Letting out several clicks of its mandibles it began to rush the men. The slender fellow backed up a few paces in horror, but his friend simply bellowed and charged the illusionary beast, swinging his falchion clean through it to his shock. “What the -?! Its not real!” he called out, prompting his friend to cease backing away, albeit reluctantly. Selyómë ground her teeth in frustration. If she couldn’t scare them away, that meant she would have to kill them. Resigned to her task the sprightly Elf maiden dropped from her treetop perch to behind a group of bushes near the bear-man where she immediately began incanting a spell of her own. The men heard her casting and whipped their heads in her direction, but too late. She pronounced the final syllables of the spell and held out her palms, and from them shot a cone of brilliant colors. The bear-man yelled out “Spell-slinger!” and ducked, but couldn’t avoid them. Hues of blue and green, red and yellow, black and white, and everything in between washed over him, drawing his gaze and mesmerizing him in spite of is every effort to close his eyes or look away. The magic of the colors did its work, invading his mind and sending him spinning off to collapse in an unconscious heap on the forest floor. His friend, however, had been too far away for her to get with the spell, and was now holding his rapier. He rushed up to Selyómë, snarling and weaving the blade expertly. Her supple yet strong mithril armor turned his first stroke though, and he never got a second as she whipped out the scythe slung across her back and quickly slipped the point of the weapon behind his ankles, pulling him off-balance and sending him falling to the forest floor with a rush of lost breath and a pained grunt, then followed through by bringing the weapon’s point in a sweeping arc that placed it in his neck. He gurgled a little, and dark red blood foamed up from his mouth, but after a moment he lay still, the rapier limp in his hands. Holding back her remorse for later she walked over to the unconscious man, an apology in her eyes he would never see, and repeated the stroke. Sending Lumbë to patrol the area they were so there were no surprises, Selyómë spoke the words to another spell, one that let her speak with someone over large distances, and reported her encounter. “Stay put,” the curt reply came from her patrol’s mage, a rather vain young Grey Elf woman named Verya. “We’ll meet up with you to deal with the bodies soon. Make sure they don’t go anywhere.” Selyómë sighed and sat down on a tree stump nearby, watching Lumbë chase after a few insects in the lower branches of the trees once she had returned from her brief patrol and enjoying her remaining minutes of silence until the others showed up. Not that the others approach noisily, of course. Such would have been an embarrassment to the Border Guard, not to mention a risk to the secrecy of the nation. However, to Selyómë the whisperings between some of them seemed as loud as any human conversation, particularly in the otherwise silent forest where the only sounds were a few birds and other animals. They emerged from the trees and brush with nary a sound that a human could’ve heard, two dozen strong, a group consisting mostly of warriors and archers, but with a couple of priests and the mage Verya also present, all adept at moving quickly and quietly through the woods and all wearing elven cloaks and boots enchanted to help them do just that. Selyómë raised her hand in greeting, then gestured towards the bodies in silence. The patrol’s leader, a priest whos name Selyómë could never seem to recall, examined the bodies, and after ascertaining that they carried no items which would have allowed them to contact someone after they had spotted Selyómë or any which would allow them to be tracked, he gave a nod to Verya. The mage began an incantation, and moments later a sheet of flame sprung forth from her fingertips, igniting both bodies as well as their equipment. She glanced a Selyómë out of the corner of her eyes, and briefly favored her with a sneer. Verya had been like that since Selyómë’s brother had begun to tutor her in the Art – she did not like having potential competition for her spot as the patrol mage around, regardless of whether they showed any interest in the position. Selyómë and a few other archers were sent to patrol the area, making sure no one came within view of the fire without their knowledge. Of course, except for the occasional over-eager adventurer such as those two had been and those few Elves who came to Elerania from other lands, few sentient beings ventured this deep into the forest, so none of them were truly worried about such a thing; it was merely a matter of being certain. When the burning was finished they were called back, and the patrol resumed as before. The day passed without further event, for which Selyómë was grateful. They finished their patrol and returned to the eastern gates of Elerania’s capital at twilight (conveniently for Selyómë the section of the city where her house lived), on schedule in spite of their brief disturbance, and found an unusual sight awaiting them. A group of elves in polished silver armor bearing the symbol of a gold tree set inside a bejeweled crown – the armor of the Royal Guards – stood at the gates, eight of the dozen of them on the inside. One of the four outer guards hailed them as they approached, and went to speak with the patrol leader. Selyómë, curious as to just what could be going on that warranted the Royal Guards’ attention, crept just close enough to catch what they were saying. “We have a situation.” The guard was telling their leader. “House Brightmoon has been attacked.” Well, this is the first part of the story I've been trying to get myself to finish for the past three contests now. It became rather obvious when I compared the length of what I had to the length of a typical entry that I'd never fit the entire thing into one entry - this is merely the intro portion, I haven't even gotten to the main event yet - so I decided to post it in multiple parts. As I said, this is the intro, meant basically to introduce the kingdom of Elerania (which I've been cooking up in the back of my mind since I posted Featylec way back in december), and show a mostly typical (obviously that last part isn't typical) day in the life of the main character, who for those of you who couldn't tell is my character Eraca Moralta (the name change will be explained later in the tale), as well as showing what she was like before the event this tale will be describing occured. I'm planning to fit the whole story in three parts (counting this one), though with school approaching how long it takes to finish each part may be in question. |
| Scribelords09-24-06, 12:18 AM | It was graduation day at the Arcane Order, and the entire school had turned out for the ceremony. Celebratory pennants streamed in the air, and the professors, in all their dignified glory, were arrayed in their finest robes at the head of the stage—all except for the halfling Tan, who was conspicuously absent. In the rows of seated graduates, Shedrimme Lyria, a female high elf of exceeding beauty, leaned over to whisper to the gray elf seated next to her. “Where do you think Professor Tan might be?” Her classmate, Silis Lueria, thought about it for a moment. Silis was always a very careful speaker, never opening his mouth until he was sure his words were correct and precise. “I don’t know. Very likely, he’s gone to arrange some surprise for the celebration after the ceremony.” “Bah, I bet he’s just off playing with those dogs of his, and lost track of time,” said a third graduate seated nearby, a female dwarf named Folona Metalbinder. Shedrimme looked shocked. “Don’t talk about Professor Tan that way! He’s an excellent teacher!” An upraised eyebrow from Silis caused her to hesitate. “Well, he’s not about to miss our graduation, anyway. You know he wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Silis nodded. Tan was not the best teacher at the Order by a long shot—in fact, his lectures verged on the incomprehensible, although he was always amusing—but he was always caring, even affectionate, toward his charges. “I’m sure he’ll be here, Shedrimme. Just give him time. Remember that time he had that…accident with the dogs? He still made it to class even through all that.” Shedrimme giggled. “Poor Tan. I wonder who came up with the idea of using cantrips to make his clothes smell like meat?” Silis smiled, a twinkle in his eye. Folona noticed it. “You! That was your idea, you sneaky elf.” Seeing the dark glare of Professor Marcos for interrupting Professor Auburn’s speech, she flushed and hunched up apologetically. “Was it really?” Shedrimme asked. “You always seemed so innocent!” “Seeming innocent is the only way to get away with things, Shedrimme,” the gray elf responded. “It’s worth playing yourself up as an obedient little student for a couple of good gags. And the most fun part is watching the blame fall everywhere but on you.” He sighed. “The only part I regret is that I could never tell anyone the real trick in all that. The dogs would have torn his clothes apart if they just smelled like meat. I made it so that while they smelled like meat, they tasted like hot peppers. That way, every time they got some in their mouth, they’d let go—but then they’d go right back to trying.” The dwarf chuckled. “I can’t believe it was you after all that! How did you ever come up with that stunt?” “There’s actually a story behind that,” Silis replied. Glancing at the program for the graduation ceremony, he did a quick calculation and decided he’d have time to tell it before the graduates were to go on stage. “It was when I was spending a year as a librarian’s assistant that I ran across this book….” -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The book was old, very old. That was about the only thing you could say about it, though; it was also very boring. In the thirty-third year of his life, the young Silis Lueria spent most of his time inhaling dust, or so he felt about it. He had always been intelligent, so his parents and the elders of Tel’vin In’iness continually “encouraged” him to take up academic studies. This year as a wizard’s apprentice, the next as a legal clerk, and now as a librarian’s assistant. Although everyone kept telling him that the road to scholarship was through the library, the only thing Silis felt he was on the way to was contracting the “white-lung” disease from breathing in all this dust. The libraries beneath Tel’vin In’iness were extensive, as most grey elf libraries were. The one Silis spend his days dusting was particularly large, partially due to the city’s location. The city was built out of the rock in the southern reaches of the Thunderpeak Mountains, and as such had extensive contact with the high elves and wood elves in the High Forest, as well as some commerce with Gladius and its surrounds. Because of these contacts, the Great Library of Tel’vin In’iness had a wealth of material dealing with magic (both good, evil, and practical), history, economics, monsters, and many other topics. Such is the grey elves’ love of books that they would sooner expand the library than get rid of any. The library was thus a sprawling structure, certainly the ugliest edifice in the whole city, extending many stories both above and below the surface. And because the librarians seldom if ever got rid of any of their books, the majority of the library’s collection was, well, crap. Take this book, for instance. Silis in the process of dusting the fifth basement, seventh section, fifteenth subsection, deep in the rock under the city, when he ran across this waste of paper. “Economic Significance of the Use of Hardwoods and Softwoods for Furniture in the Fourth Century of the Theocracy of Dys,” the spine read. Silis wondered that the author had crammed all that on there; the book was fat enough, but even still the author hadn’t had enough room to print his own name. Or maybe he was too embarrassed to put his signature to such a colossal waste of time. On a whim, Silis put down his feather duster and everburning torch and took the book down, wondering how the author ever managed to fill such a massive tome with such insignificant drivel. Flipping through the book, Silis was surprised to find that the book was actually blank. Every single page was just a clean sheet of yellowing parchment. He laughed quietly to himself—this book must have been a practical joke to someone at some point, the context long since forgotten. Thinking to take the book back to the head librarian so it could be removed from the shelves, Silis tucked it under his arm. He hesitated, though. He really didn’t want to carry this ponderous volume for the rest of the day, and he certainly didn’t want to make an extra trip up five flights of stairs. He considered his route, and realized he wouldn’t be coming back this way today. Shrugging, he put the book back in its place on the shelf. “Let it be a problem for another assistant librarian,” he thought. As the book settled into its place, and Silis lifted his duster to move to the next shelf, he heard a soft click. Suspicious, the elf turned around, but heard and saw nothing more. He returned to the book, removed it again, and put it back. Another click. He repeated this several more times to try to judge where the sound was coming from—it seemed to be a particular bookshelf a few feet down the aisle. Silis approached the shelf, put his duster down on a nearby reading table, then took hold of the shelf and tried to wiggle it. It moved. Another wiggle, and the heavy, book-laden shelf slid backward into the wall by an inch or so. With a certain amount of effort, Silis eventually managed to push the shelf two feet back into the wall, where it then slid to the side, behind another shelf. As Silis had begun to suspect by now, a passageway was revealed leading back into the rock. Silis considered this for a moment. The amount of dust in the passage—not to mention the amount of dust on the shelf concealing it—indicated that it had not been used in some time, perhaps centuries. The young elf could, of course, go back up and inform the head librarian (who may or may already know about it), but not only would that mean going back up and down the five flights of stairs, it would also mean that Silis could look forward to spending the rest of the day dusting and not, for instance, exploring secret passageways. His mind made up, Silis took up his magical torch and placed his feather duster across the entryway so that it would jam the door if it began to close on its own, then headed down into the depths. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The passage extended a great distance, diagonally down into the mountain, and after perhaps an hour if following it, Silis began to regret his decision. Although the passage before him was still dusty, foul things sometimes lurked in deep dungeons—sometimes things, like wraiths, which would not disturb dust. Still, Silis kept going, continually telling himself, “I’ll turn around after another ten minutes. Just another ten minutes.” And then another ten, and another, until eventually the passage forked. Welcoming the change in the monotony, Silis picked a fork, which was followed by another, and yet another. A labyrinth! This was much better than going up and down the halls of the library. The elf began following the maze systematically, concentrating fully on solving the puzzle, ignoring even the growls of his stomach that were telling him it was long past time to go home for dinner. Silis knew that there were two types of labyrinth: the kind meant to keep things in and the kind meant to keep things out. He couldn’t think of any reason why anyone would want to trap something below a library—and grey elves, with their long lifespans, would never use such a method to imprison something where there was a chance they’d escape while the elves were still alive. Only humans and other short-lived races used that kind of labyrinth. This labyrinth, then, was of the other sort. That meant two things: one, there had to be some sort of a pattern to the maze, so that whoever knew the trick would be able to go straight to the goal. Two, there had to be a goal of some kind—almost undoubtedly treasure of some sort. Now, Silis wasn’t a particularly greedy elf, but the thought of some valuable item sitting unused and forgotten in a dusty old cave galled him. Anything that special should be brought out into the light of day, where it could be used and appreciated. He would be doing everyone a favor by recovering whatever it was. Fantasies of coming back to the city bearing some valuable artifact lightened his step as he turned left here, right there, figuring out the pattern as he went. And there it was. At a dead-end of the maze was a stone altar, atop which was…a bowl, covered in a century or more of dust. Silis eagerly stepped forward, then, remembering stories of similar treasures in dungeons, stopped and examined the floor. It was a good thing he had stopped; there seemed to be a pressure plate of some sort built into the floor, a trap, no doubt. He stepped around the trapped tile, then found another mechanism on the altar. A splinter of wood cut from the magical torch disabled that device, and he carefully lifted the bowl up, then quickly retreated to the other side of the pressure plate, lest he forget and step on it later. Gingerly, Silis wiped the dust off the bowl with the hem of his tunic. His heart raced in ancicipation, expecting to see the shine of gold or the glimmer of gemstones with every rub. As he uncovered it, first a corner, then eventually the whole piece, his heart fell in disappointment. The bowl was certainly old, but that was about all you could say for it. It was made of pewter, and the odd lumps in its surface were obviously glass and paste, even to Silis’ untrained eye. The only exciting part was the runes inscribed on both the outside and inside of the bowl, but they were runes the elf did not recognize. Whatever they were, they were old. Silis’ stomach growled again, and this time the elf heard it. It was well past time to be home, so he headed back the way he came, retracing his footprints in the dust. A right here, a left, another right… at the next intersection, Silis had to look closely, as it seemed he had previously retraced his steps here at some point. He knelt in the dust, trying to make sense of the tracks, but as he came closer, he immediately noticed something he had not seen before: the second set of prints was not his own. He had been so obsessed with solving the puzzle on the way in that he had forgotten to look for tracks—tracks that resembled claw marks, lightly scratched in the dust. Silis’ heart began to pound in his chest. Even if he managed to escape, with the tracks he’d already left in the dust, the creatures, whatever they were, could easily track Silis down and catch him in the long passageway between the maze and the library. Trying to calm himself down for a minute, the elf quickly came up with a solution. He had learned a couple of minor cantrips in his time as a wizard’s apprentice, mostly tricks that seemed to have “practical” applications, such as filling up a room with dust right after one of the other apprentices had finished cleaning it. Laughing at the memory (and remembering how he’d made a good friend by offering to help the other apprentice clean up again afterwards), he called that particular cantrip to mind and set it to work. Silis moved quickly but quietly down the hallways, backtracking as best he could, as the spell filled the path behind him with dust, obscuring his trail for good. His stomach, oblivious to Silis’ more pressing concerns, growled again, loudly, and the elf slapped he hands over his belly in hopes of keeping it quiet. Another growl pierced the silence, and Silis scowled at his own stomach, then froze. That growl hadn’t come from him. It was a feral growl, and to Silis’ panicked mind, it sounded close. He ran. Onward through the maze he ran, not stopping to look for tracks, hoping he remembered the pattern well enough to get him back out to the main passageway. It was just ahead! But just then, another growl echoed down the hallways—a growl that seemed to come from directly ahead. Crouching down near the intersection, Silis saw what he most dreaded: one of the claw marks had traveled down into the main passageway, and had not returned this way. That meant it was somewhere along the long stretch back to the library, blocking the only way out. Silis ducked into a side corridor to think about the problem. As he stood there, flattened against the wall, he heard the click of nails against the stone, coming from the other fork of the labyrinth. Silis froze, scarcely breathing, as the sound grew closer. It sniffed the air and growled again, softly, and Silis knew he was in trouble. It must be able to smell him—he could now smell it, too, a foul, gagging stench of decay. The smell. Silis had focused so much on the tracks in the dust that he had forgotten about other methods of tracking prey, such as smell. He didn’t know whether his cantrip would cover his smell as well as his prints—he resolved on the spot to study magic more as soon as his stint at the library was up!—but that didn’t matter as long as they could smell him directly. The elf tried to think quickly, his heartbeats deafening to his own ears, the sweat trickling down his armpits. The thought of that only made him panic more—the more he sweated, the more he knew he would smell to the creatures. He knew a cantrip that could clean him off, but it was an instantaneous effect, and he’d just begin to sweat again afterwards. As the rancid monster crept closer, it suddenly dawned on him: not less scent, but more. As quietly as he could, he recited the words of the cantrip, fumbling over the words once before getting it right. He risked a glimpse around the corner to aim the spell, and the sight of the horrific, gruesome, rotting beast nearly made him lose the spell a second time. He successfully finished it, though, then flattened himself against the wall again and began to slowly creep away. It was only seconds before his success was realized. A ferocious yowl came from the long passageway, and another of the disgusting beasts leapt from it onto the first beast. The two tussled fiercely, the second beast doing its level best to bite chunks from the first one’s hide, then spitting them out when it succeeded. The cantrip had worked perfectly--the first creature now exuded the smell of a fresh, rare steak, even though its taste hadn't been changed. Silis didn’t second-guess his luck—he dashed down the passageway, his dust cantrip erasing his trail all the way back to the library. As the elf, panting, dragged the bookshelf back into place to seal the ancient labyrinth, he wondered whether he should tell anyone about what happened. Since no one came looking for him in the dungeon, he figured that his secret passageway had not been discovered. And he had no illusions about being welcomed as a hero for recovering some old bowl. He decided to pretend he’d gotten lost—of all the other librarian’s assistants, he was the only one to have never gotten lost before, but the teasing he’d get for losing this reputation was worth the right to hold on to his treasure (and keep from getting punished). He used the last of his magical reserves to clean the sweat off and cancelled the dust cantrip, so he could pretend nothing ever happened. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- “Bah! I don’t believe a word of it!” said Folona. “That’s the craziest tale I’ve ever heard. Dungeons under a library? Fool elf probably fell asleep, had a nightmare, that’s all.” The dwarf huffed and pretended to pay attention to the graduation proceedings. “But what about the bowl?” asked Shedrimme. “You kept it, right? You’ve studied divination—what did the runes say?” Silis smiled. “There’s a funny thing about that…but that’s another story, and there isn’t time for it before we go up.” Indeed, the endless speeches seemed to finally be over, and the ushers were getting the first row of students ready. “Probably needs time to make up another story,” Folona grumbled. “Take my word for it, lass, this boy’s all full of hot air and daydreams.” The gray elf shrugged. “Suit yourself, Folona. If you don’t want to hear it, I don’t have to tell it.” A twinkle in his eye gave him away again…he knew his audience was hooked. “Bah! Bah! Bah!” Folona swore and Shedrimme giggled as the three stood to get in line to receive their diplomas. “Well, I believe it,” said the elf girl. “I always wondered why Silis had such an interest in old things for such a young man.” “I’m older than you,” Silis began to object, but he was interrupted by a new sound coming from the back of the ceremony. “Stop! Mario! Popper! Down, boys, down! Good boys! No, no, down, I said! Popper! Mario! Help! Heeeeelp!” As the gathered mages, young and old, laughed at the dogs jumping all over their halfling master, Silis smiled. “Besides, whether it’s books, bowls, or jokes, old things are usually the best.” And that's that. Hope you enjoyed. This also serves as an introduction to my franchise character, Silis Lueria. Anyone who wants to campaign using him, let me know--that's what he's there for. |
| Scribelords11-27-06, 09:48 PM | Solan rode through the forests that covered the bases of the mighty northern ridge. He was alone save for Duskima, but that was how he liked it. His horse was a central pillar in his life, a loyal companion, an exceptional mount, and an excellent warrior. It was with a loving hand that he guided the jet black equine through a leaf-filled gap between two massive trees. The air that blew from the high peaks was cold and Solan shivered a bit, his breath freezing as it left his mouth. The paladin was deep in unfamiliar territory with naught but his own cunning and his martial skill between him and the final meeting with his God. Solan grinned as he contemplated the thought of death. To be brought before Kelvemor would be the greatest honor bestowed upon him in his entire adult life. He sometimes wished for death, an end to pain and suffering. An end to the petty strife and honorless plots of the mortal realms, but such release was yet beyond him. As long as the God of death needed his services here, it was here that he would dwell. He would not defy the will of the God of judgment, nor would he deprive the church of his services. Solan sighed in resignation as he reviewed the task before him. The words of the high priest came floating back through his mind with little effort. "Solan my brother, you must perform a task for the faithful." The hooded elf had rasped, "There is a strange stirring in the Great Northern Ridge. You must travel to the Brutish Lands (http://boards1.wizards.com/showpost.php?p=8390405&postcount=28) in the far north. I fear that a great evil brews there. My sight cannot pierce the veil that obscures that place. Where death cannot travel there are those who have tried to cheat it. Find the creatures who seek the path of undeath and return their miserable souls to our God." Solan bowed before the venerable old cleric and pledged his loyalty to the faith and his mission. "I cannot not fail high priest. Kelvemor guides me and his will shall spread to encompass these fell deviants." Two long months and several unexpected detours later he found himself nearing his goal. In the City of Gold he had contacted a member of the faithful and learned a bit about his enemy. His foe was an unknown, but he had come up with a lead. A gnome known as Shaellass. A few months ago the reclusive druid had stopped coming into town to trade entirely. About two weeks after her failure to return for her usual supply of arrowheads and exotic plant life strange things started to occur in the forests to the east. The animals had become more hostile, the weather more violent, the wilderness more forbidding. People had started hearing strange sounds at night and had sighted misshapen beasts roaming about in the moonlight. It was into said forbidding wilderness that Solan currently traveled. An owl hooted in a tree and Solan glanced up to see the tawny creature. Its eyes stared back, wide and glaring. "Brave creature." Solan observed as the sun started to sink between two mountain peaks. "Hunt well tonight friend." The owl cocked its head curiously and spread its wings. Taking a hopping leap it launched itself on silent wings and glided overhead towards its prey. Solan smiled at the artistry of the predator, but became somber as he realized that tonight he would be the one that the night predators hunted. Duskima stopped her forward motion in response to a delicate pressure on her flanks and Solan dismounted. Quickly he gathered wood and began to start a fire as the sun finished its slow descent behind the high peaks. As darkness shrouded the forest Solan's small fire burned merrily. The paladin fed it twigs until it gained sufficient size to resist the wind and then added some good dry logs that would keep it burning for several hours. Removing his armor, the paladin nestled against Duskima and closed his eyes for a brief rest... A howl shook the frigid air and brought Solan into full wakefulness. The fire had died down to glowing embers and provided a negligible amount of illumination. With hardly a thought his hands went to his weapons and he moved into a defensive crouch. Duskima stood and pawed the ground nervously. The horse knew that predators were near and was afraid. Bushes rustled around the camp and even as Solan looked at one another would move. They were surrounded by strange creatures. A single bright yellow eye stared from a bush at Solan. With longsword held level ahead of him, Solan moved to the fire and grasped a torch from his bag. Prodding the dying fire he ignited the cloth tip and the entire end went up in flames. The dancing torchlight revealed his enemy. It was a wolf, but it had been horribly mutilated. Its face was a mass of glaring lacerations and greenish fluid seemed to foam from every orifice. The wolf barked and greenish spittle flew forward. A split second after it jumped at Solan. Bracing himself, the paladin took the creature's charge on his sword, impaling the strange wolf. The sword emerged from the predator's hairy back covered in a mixture of red blood and green foam. The wolf howled in pain but kept right on trying to bite Solan as it bore him to the ground. With a deft movement the warrior shifted his weight so as to land beside the creature rather than under it. The fall landed his foe to his left and Solan scrambled up as it snarled madly. Ripping his sword loose he whirled it about and beheaded the beast. Blood and foam sprayed out of the severed neck as Solan backed off and went back into a defensive stance. More howls split the night from every direction and seemed to be closing. Making a quick calculation, Solan jumped onto Duskima and grabbed his lance and Glaive from his pack. Leaving his armor and camping gear he urged Duskima forward. The horse began to run with enthusiasm. If he could only make it to the cliffs, with the rock at his back he couldn't be flanked by the beasts. A wolf leapt from behind a tree, but Duskima dodged nimbly and Solan took the shock of the charge on his lance. The pierced canine gurgled in rage as its life expired on the forest floor. Ahead the dark expanse of the granite loomed upwards in the darkness, blocking the light of the stars. Duskima hurtled toward it, sensing Solan’s urgency. Another wolf closed from the side, but Duskima’s long legs were gaining ground on the predators and it fell behind. With a leap, Duskima cleared a fallen log and clattered down on hard rock. Solan quickly slid from the saddle and whirled, dropping the lance in favor of his glaive. Wolves circled, their eyes glinting in the moonlight. They were closing in from every side. Solan caught glimpses of them as they moved through the trees. They were going to come from every side, and he was ready. Bracing against the cliff wall he waited. Strange sounds drifted through the night. A hooting reverberated through the rock and as one the wolves turned and fled. Solan stood by the cliff until full morning enveloped the land in its loving embrace. It was with caution that Solan mounted Duskima and rode back to camp, lance at the ready. The wolves he had slain last night were gone, no trace remained save black blood and foam. :ton: - To be continued... |