Athkathla II
The blade found the way into the flesh. Xandax felt instantly the effects of the poison.
Assessing the situation Xandax found himself almost surrounded by the thieves. 1 on his left, and the other 2 in front of him.
How he hated thieves and their use of dishonourable means.
Taking a couple of steps backwards until his back hit some large stones Xanax bought just enough time to canalise his strengths and entered his Enraged state. Not feeling the poisons immediately effect anymore – he still knew that it was doing damage within. His shield, “Curator” glowed silently red, passing on its resistance towards poison to Xandax.
Xandax, empowered by his enrage bonus’, slowly walked towards the 2 thieves infront of him, while nonchalantly rotated his weapon hand, so his sword made small circles in the air.
The thieves not expecting this back up a few steps, looking nervously at each other.
“To the Death” Xandax shouted his battle cry and turned to his left and charged the single thief that now was isolated by a few feet from his companions. That spelt his doom as Xandax almost cleaved him in two with a powerful downwards slash with his sword. Quickly drawing his sword out of the body of the thief, Xandax parried a blow from one of the other thieves with his shield, and a rotation movement to the left with his torso caused the other thief’ blow to glide of his armour.
Xandax slided down so sitting on his knees, span his torso back to the right, following through with his sword. The blow cut of the right leg of the first thief. The man fell down screaming. And fought with all his strength to crawl away. Leaving the man for dead, Xandax concentrated on the last thief wich were lunging out towards Xandax proned status. Still under the effect of his enrage, Xandax, not feeling the full weight of his amour, almost jumped back into a standing position, thereby avoiding the mans lunge.
“Do you want to die by my hand, or take your chance with the rest of the Shadow Thieves?” Xandax asked the last man, feeling on top of the situation.
Xandax didn’t get an answer, as the last thief turned around and ran away.
“Didn’t think so.” Xandax thought.
Xandax quickly cot himself under control again, trying to find out what had happen to Calahan and Thryn.
{
OOC: Is this good enough?
}
Assessing the situation Xandax found himself almost surrounded by the thieves. 1 on his left, and the other 2 in front of him.
How he hated thieves and their use of dishonourable means.
Taking a couple of steps backwards until his back hit some large stones Xanax bought just enough time to canalise his strengths and entered his Enraged state. Not feeling the poisons immediately effect anymore – he still knew that it was doing damage within. His shield, “Curator” glowed silently red, passing on its resistance towards poison to Xandax.
Xandax, empowered by his enrage bonus’, slowly walked towards the 2 thieves infront of him, while nonchalantly rotated his weapon hand, so his sword made small circles in the air.
The thieves not expecting this back up a few steps, looking nervously at each other.
“To the Death” Xandax shouted his battle cry and turned to his left and charged the single thief that now was isolated by a few feet from his companions. That spelt his doom as Xandax almost cleaved him in two with a powerful downwards slash with his sword. Quickly drawing his sword out of the body of the thief, Xandax parried a blow from one of the other thieves with his shield, and a rotation movement to the left with his torso caused the other thief’ blow to glide of his armour.
Xandax slided down so sitting on his knees, span his torso back to the right, following through with his sword. The blow cut of the right leg of the first thief. The man fell down screaming. And fought with all his strength to crawl away. Leaving the man for dead, Xandax concentrated on the last thief wich were lunging out towards Xandax proned status. Still under the effect of his enrage, Xandax, not feeling the full weight of his amour, almost jumped back into a standing position, thereby avoiding the mans lunge.
“Do you want to die by my hand, or take your chance with the rest of the Shadow Thieves?” Xandax asked the last man, feeling on top of the situation.
Xandax didn’t get an answer, as the last thief turned around and ran away.
“Didn’t think so.” Xandax thought.
Xandax quickly cot himself under control again, trying to find out what had happen to Calahan and Thryn.
{
OOC: Is this good enough?
}
Insert signature here.
Ok, I'm finally back. I'll try to get an update in tomorrow. I've still got to finish the summer reading for school I've been putting off 
[ 08-30-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
[ 08-30-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Well my bookmark still works, so I don't mindOriginally posted by Aegis:
<STRONG>@All: Just for everyone to know, I have moved the location of the story from the games section of Fanfiction.net. I have moved it the books, and forgotten Realms section, just because more people will appreciate it there.</STRONG>
Insert signature here.
@all: Sorry for my lateness
@Aegis: I’m curious; what gives you the impression that Magus is in Limbo?
BTW, the movement of the story on fanfiction.net is ok with me. It fits into either category.
* * * * *
As Calahan stumbled, trying to get his bearings, three more arrows come whistling towards him. Two of them again bounce off harmlessly, but one finds a gap between plates on the inside of his left elbow. The wound is shallow, but the pain snaps Calahan’s mind back into focus. Quickly looking around, he sees his last mercerany send a thief running, two of his comrades dead or crippled at the fighter’s feet. Then the idiot just stands there staring off at nothing in particular.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!” Calahan yells furiously. He senses a stab from behind, and whirls with surprising speed to block it with the shaft of his halberd. Thryn, expecting a counter slash from the left with the blade, rolls with it. Instead, Calahan brings around the haft from the other side, dealing a glancing blow on the head. Fighting off dizziness and disorientation, he doesn’t manage to dodge Calahan’s armored kick, which catches him in the ribs and sends him sprawling, winded and badly bruised.
Llira’s timely arrival saves his life. She kicks out at the back of Calahan’s knee, sending him stumbling backward. Then she rushes forward to slit his throat from behind. The move is expertly done, but yet again his speed catches his attacker unaware. As the knife arcs towards his throat he grabs her wrist in a crushing embrace. Llira’s scream echoes hauntingly through the pass as bones splinter and crush. Meanwhile he maneuvers her around, putting her between him and the archers.
* * * * *
The lesser demons dead, the djiins and Magus are left alone with the ta’narri balor. Smelling sweet blood, it immediately rushes at the wounded genie, still invisible. He casts a dimension door, but too late. The balor’s claws come raking down, tearing into the genie’s abdomen and disrupting the spell. Blood spills forth as if from nowhere. With its last breath on the prime material the djiin lets loose a powerful lightning bolt that blasts through the balor’s magical defenses and sends it reeling backward.
The other djiin, protected by a shield of cold fire, dashes in before the ta’narri can recover. Hasting himself with a word, the djiin’s blade moves in a blur, scoring a dozen hits in the span of seconds. Weakened and distracted, Magus’s finger of death meets little resistance, and ends the fiend’s life before it can counter.
The battle over, the djiin returns the katana to its belt, and his shield fades away. The death of his comrade makes him feel somewhat lonely, but he is not saddened. He was home, and free once again from the whims of impertinent mortals.
“A battle well-fought, mortal. Your magic commands respect, it does. However, no closer are we to our goal than before. No rakshasa pays us a visit.”
Impossible, Magus thinks. He knew for certain that there was a rakshasa somewhere in the area. The artifact should have drawn it there with all the rest. Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Well? Is our most respected and powerful wizard actually baffled, yes?”
Suddenly Magus appears, his invisibility dispelled. He instantly deduces from the djiin’s surprised expression that it wasn’t him. Then he senses it. The powerful, malevolent presence. The rakshasa had arrived.
Magus cries out in warning, but it’s too late. A scimitar cuts through the air, and the genie’s head rolls to the ground, followed by its body.
Luckily he hadn’t yet revoked his stoneskins. Quickly he weaves a spell turning protection, just in time to reflect the rakshasa’s fireball back at it. The explosion doesn’t even faze it. This one was powerful indeed.
Without stopping Magus begins his next spell. Shimmering silver daggers erupt from his hand and shoot towards their target. The rakshasa responds with a stoneskin, but it underestimates the sheer number of daggers. 7 bounce off, but 3 more bite deeply into flesh.
The power of the spell is draining, and Magus is forced to pause. Infuriated, the rakshasa goes into a long, mystic chant. His magic unavailable, Magus taps other powers as his opponent’s spell reaches completion.
A great pillar of black flame shoots down from the sky, enveloping the mage in fiery death, blasting through his spell defenses. The dark inferno raged for a second, a minute, who can really say? But when it ended, and the smoke clears, Magus stood levitating in midair, his eyes closed, his robes blackened with soot but untouched. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the rakshasa with eyes unseeing, eyes focused inward in the ecstasy of self-enlightenment. At that moment the cunning rakshasa knew fear, perhaps for the first time in its despicable life. Great among its kind, feared by creatures across the planes, it never knew an opponent it couldn’t smite with a mix of guile and overwhelming power.
Something about the mage’s gaze was compelling, forcing the rakshasa lord to stare back. Seconds later it fell, a lifeless husk, defeated in a mighty psionic battle spanning timeless eons in the realm of the mind. Then Magus himself crumpled to the ground, mind and body exhausted from the ordeal of their assimilating. He barely managed to crawl over and conceal the gem once more within his robe before consciousness left him.
* * * * *
His foes finished, for some reason Xandax’s gaze is drawn to the sky in the far-off distance. There he sees a writhing black pillar extending from sky to horizon, composed of what, he doesn’t know. The sight is hideous but entrancing. His musings are interrupted by Calahan’s nearby bellow.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!”
[ 09-02-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
@Aegis: I’m curious; what gives you the impression that Magus is in Limbo?
BTW, the movement of the story on fanfiction.net is ok with me. It fits into either category.
* * * * *
As Calahan stumbled, trying to get his bearings, three more arrows come whistling towards him. Two of them again bounce off harmlessly, but one finds a gap between plates on the inside of his left elbow. The wound is shallow, but the pain snaps Calahan’s mind back into focus. Quickly looking around, he sees his last mercerany send a thief running, two of his comrades dead or crippled at the fighter’s feet. Then the idiot just stands there staring off at nothing in particular.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!” Calahan yells furiously. He senses a stab from behind, and whirls with surprising speed to block it with the shaft of his halberd. Thryn, expecting a counter slash from the left with the blade, rolls with it. Instead, Calahan brings around the haft from the other side, dealing a glancing blow on the head. Fighting off dizziness and disorientation, he doesn’t manage to dodge Calahan’s armored kick, which catches him in the ribs and sends him sprawling, winded and badly bruised.
Llira’s timely arrival saves his life. She kicks out at the back of Calahan’s knee, sending him stumbling backward. Then she rushes forward to slit his throat from behind. The move is expertly done, but yet again his speed catches his attacker unaware. As the knife arcs towards his throat he grabs her wrist in a crushing embrace. Llira’s scream echoes hauntingly through the pass as bones splinter and crush. Meanwhile he maneuvers her around, putting her between him and the archers.
* * * * *
The lesser demons dead, the djiins and Magus are left alone with the ta’narri balor. Smelling sweet blood, it immediately rushes at the wounded genie, still invisible. He casts a dimension door, but too late. The balor’s claws come raking down, tearing into the genie’s abdomen and disrupting the spell. Blood spills forth as if from nowhere. With its last breath on the prime material the djiin lets loose a powerful lightning bolt that blasts through the balor’s magical defenses and sends it reeling backward.
The other djiin, protected by a shield of cold fire, dashes in before the ta’narri can recover. Hasting himself with a word, the djiin’s blade moves in a blur, scoring a dozen hits in the span of seconds. Weakened and distracted, Magus’s finger of death meets little resistance, and ends the fiend’s life before it can counter.
The battle over, the djiin returns the katana to its belt, and his shield fades away. The death of his comrade makes him feel somewhat lonely, but he is not saddened. He was home, and free once again from the whims of impertinent mortals.
“A battle well-fought, mortal. Your magic commands respect, it does. However, no closer are we to our goal than before. No rakshasa pays us a visit.”
Impossible, Magus thinks. He knew for certain that there was a rakshasa somewhere in the area. The artifact should have drawn it there with all the rest. Something was wrong, very wrong.
“Well? Is our most respected and powerful wizard actually baffled, yes?”
Suddenly Magus appears, his invisibility dispelled. He instantly deduces from the djiin’s surprised expression that it wasn’t him. Then he senses it. The powerful, malevolent presence. The rakshasa had arrived.
Magus cries out in warning, but it’s too late. A scimitar cuts through the air, and the genie’s head rolls to the ground, followed by its body.
Luckily he hadn’t yet revoked his stoneskins. Quickly he weaves a spell turning protection, just in time to reflect the rakshasa’s fireball back at it. The explosion doesn’t even faze it. This one was powerful indeed.
Without stopping Magus begins his next spell. Shimmering silver daggers erupt from his hand and shoot towards their target. The rakshasa responds with a stoneskin, but it underestimates the sheer number of daggers. 7 bounce off, but 3 more bite deeply into flesh.
The power of the spell is draining, and Magus is forced to pause. Infuriated, the rakshasa goes into a long, mystic chant. His magic unavailable, Magus taps other powers as his opponent’s spell reaches completion.
A great pillar of black flame shoots down from the sky, enveloping the mage in fiery death, blasting through his spell defenses. The dark inferno raged for a second, a minute, who can really say? But when it ended, and the smoke clears, Magus stood levitating in midair, his eyes closed, his robes blackened with soot but untouched. Opening his eyes, he gazed at the rakshasa with eyes unseeing, eyes focused inward in the ecstasy of self-enlightenment. At that moment the cunning rakshasa knew fear, perhaps for the first time in its despicable life. Great among its kind, feared by creatures across the planes, it never knew an opponent it couldn’t smite with a mix of guile and overwhelming power.
Something about the mage’s gaze was compelling, forcing the rakshasa lord to stare back. Seconds later it fell, a lifeless husk, defeated in a mighty psionic battle spanning timeless eons in the realm of the mind. Then Magus himself crumpled to the ground, mind and body exhausted from the ordeal of their assimilating. He barely managed to crawl over and conceal the gem once more within his robe before consciousness left him.
* * * * *
His foes finished, for some reason Xandax’s gaze is drawn to the sky in the far-off distance. There he sees a writhing black pillar extending from sky to horizon, composed of what, he doesn’t know. The sight is hideous but entrancing. His musings are interrupted by Calahan’s nearby bellow.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!”
[ 09-02-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Virdel, slowly growing accostumed to his magical disguise, had found it easy to make his way into the Black Helm.When presented with the challenges all new initiates go through, he remained the only one standing, the rest falling to either the spike trap withen the wall, or to the more experianced fighters. Also, because of recent Shadow Theif raids on the Helm's shipments of supplies, they had been strapped for Liuetenants, and gave one of the empty positions to Virdel, saying he wouldn't be the only new recruit to get a chance to prove themselves. Virdel immediatly thought of Xandax, and gave a small smirk. In accordance, Virdel had been given access to the very files he joined the Black Helm for, there future plans.
As he had been told of a detachment of recruits going to aid Calahan,whose name sounded familar to him, he knew there would be few gaurds, making it all the easier to discover the mercanry guilds plans. Waiting to mid-day, when he knew the dispatchment would be far from the city, and most of the Helm either on patrol, or leave, he made his way to Clerks study of the building, and began to rummage through files. As he stepped through the threshold, he felt a small tugging at his foot, and realized what just happened. He would have to work quite, as the Helm would respond quickly to the trap's alarm. Throwing caution to the wind, he dashed to the nearest desk, and hoped it was the right one. He slid it open, and began to rummage through the papers, looking for anything of importance. As he did so, his hand brushed across the wax seal of the Black Helm. This caught his attention, and he quickly broke the seal to read it...
"The plans have been sealed. We are to attack the Shadow Theives orgainization in three days time, at dawn. Long have they been a scorn to this city, and to use, and they blemish Athkatla's name by existing. Our contact in the Cowled Wizards, whom choses to reman nameless at this point, will assist us through his own means. He has gaurenteed that the Council of Six will not interfere with our plans. Inform the Liuetenants, and Captains of the attack, but speak nothing to the recruits.
-Jericho"
Virdel lifted his head, and thought of the impact the city would have if the Shadow Theives were destroyed. He pocketed the scroll, and turned back to the door, dashing for it. As he rounded the frame, and entered the hall way, he came to a skidding halt as he saw a small deteachment of gaurds, accompanied by one of the guilds Battle Mages.
"There's the intruder! Capture him alive!" Yelled the man in front, who was a big and burly man wieldin a large and imposing looking warhammer. The other three warriors charaged forth, brandishing a wide aray of weapons, while the Battle-Mage stood back, and allowed his contingincies to kick up.
Virdel drew his own weapons, swearing under his breath because of his lack of mobility in his current disguise. The first attack came in, a rather large looking sword, cliving the air sharply. Virdel raised his right scimitar, and parried the attack. With his left, he quickly issued a spinning manouevre, cleaning cutting the first assailent in the mid-section. By this time, the Battle-Mages contingencies were up, and small globe of energy surrounded him. That wasn't the only one though. Virdel felt a bit of a draining sensation, and grew dizzy momentarly. When he composed himself a mere half a second later, he saw a look of disbelief on the gaurds faces. He glanced quickly at his hand, and realized what had happened. His cover had been blown, and he was now back to his Drow appearance.
Virdel decided to capitilize on this oppertunity, and charged the the remaining men. In his quick strike, he managed to kill another gaurd with two clean attacks to the mans throat and stomach. He turned to the next man, and nearly met with the tip of a Kara-Tur Katana. He gave a slight jump back in the crowded hallway, cursing the lack of room, and raised his scimitars in a crossed X-formation, blocking the incoming katana. To the side, he heard the mage chanting, and he felt a sicking feeling raise in his stomach. He kneed the Kara-Tur warrior, who then fell to the ground. Virdel quickly drove his left scimitar into the fallen man's back, and left it there, not wanting to waste time in forcing it out of the bone he just lodged it into. He quickly turned to the battle-mage, ignoring the large gaurd captain with the hammer. He sprinted to the mage, a Warhammer impacting just a few feet behind his form, and a pursuing owner.
Virdel heard the mage finish chanting, the pit in his stomach swelled. A burst of energy erupted from the mages finger tips as five magical balls of energy hurtled towards the dark elf. Virdel quickly sidesteped in mid-stride, his supierior agility taking prowess. Even with his quick evasion, three of the magical balls of energy still connected, sending Virdel realing to the ground, sliding to the feet of the mage. He gasped for breath, trying desperatly to regain composure. By now, the angry Captain had caught up with him, and had raised his Warhammer above his, and intended it to end the drows life by crushing his skull. Virdel closed his eyes for a second, and quickly summound his last bits of energy. He then proped himself up with his un-armed hand, and swept his foot violently across the floor, connecting against the Captains, leg's, tripping him, and disarming him. He then rolled to his feet, spun quickly, and flung his remaining scimitar to the Battle-Mage who was preparing another spell. The weapon hit the man square in the chest.
Virdel drew his dagger from his belt, and quickly turned to the Captain, who was just getting up. He lunged to the fallen man, driving the dagger deep into the Captains thraot, ending his life.
Virdel took a deep breath before removing the dagger, and cleaning it. He was tired, and sore from the fight, but couldn't stop now. He retreived his two scimitars, placed them back into the sheathes. He then made for the nearest exit...
*****
@Magus: When your done with the Rakshasa, We'll have Virdel meet up with you.
@Craig & Xandax: Can you two try and wrap up that fight soon? Not to rush you or anything, but we should progress it a little more quickly.
@All: LEt's all try and get back to the habit of posting once a day.
@Rail: Are you still around?
As he had been told of a detachment of recruits going to aid Calahan,whose name sounded familar to him, he knew there would be few gaurds, making it all the easier to discover the mercanry guilds plans. Waiting to mid-day, when he knew the dispatchment would be far from the city, and most of the Helm either on patrol, or leave, he made his way to Clerks study of the building, and began to rummage through files. As he stepped through the threshold, he felt a small tugging at his foot, and realized what just happened. He would have to work quite, as the Helm would respond quickly to the trap's alarm. Throwing caution to the wind, he dashed to the nearest desk, and hoped it was the right one. He slid it open, and began to rummage through the papers, looking for anything of importance. As he did so, his hand brushed across the wax seal of the Black Helm. This caught his attention, and he quickly broke the seal to read it...
"The plans have been sealed. We are to attack the Shadow Theives orgainization in three days time, at dawn. Long have they been a scorn to this city, and to use, and they blemish Athkatla's name by existing. Our contact in the Cowled Wizards, whom choses to reman nameless at this point, will assist us through his own means. He has gaurenteed that the Council of Six will not interfere with our plans. Inform the Liuetenants, and Captains of the attack, but speak nothing to the recruits.
-Jericho"
Virdel lifted his head, and thought of the impact the city would have if the Shadow Theives were destroyed. He pocketed the scroll, and turned back to the door, dashing for it. As he rounded the frame, and entered the hall way, he came to a skidding halt as he saw a small deteachment of gaurds, accompanied by one of the guilds Battle Mages.
"There's the intruder! Capture him alive!" Yelled the man in front, who was a big and burly man wieldin a large and imposing looking warhammer. The other three warriors charaged forth, brandishing a wide aray of weapons, while the Battle-Mage stood back, and allowed his contingincies to kick up.
Virdel drew his own weapons, swearing under his breath because of his lack of mobility in his current disguise. The first attack came in, a rather large looking sword, cliving the air sharply. Virdel raised his right scimitar, and parried the attack. With his left, he quickly issued a spinning manouevre, cleaning cutting the first assailent in the mid-section. By this time, the Battle-Mages contingencies were up, and small globe of energy surrounded him. That wasn't the only one though. Virdel felt a bit of a draining sensation, and grew dizzy momentarly. When he composed himself a mere half a second later, he saw a look of disbelief on the gaurds faces. He glanced quickly at his hand, and realized what had happened. His cover had been blown, and he was now back to his Drow appearance.
Virdel decided to capitilize on this oppertunity, and charged the the remaining men. In his quick strike, he managed to kill another gaurd with two clean attacks to the mans throat and stomach. He turned to the next man, and nearly met with the tip of a Kara-Tur Katana. He gave a slight jump back in the crowded hallway, cursing the lack of room, and raised his scimitars in a crossed X-formation, blocking the incoming katana. To the side, he heard the mage chanting, and he felt a sicking feeling raise in his stomach. He kneed the Kara-Tur warrior, who then fell to the ground. Virdel quickly drove his left scimitar into the fallen man's back, and left it there, not wanting to waste time in forcing it out of the bone he just lodged it into. He quickly turned to the battle-mage, ignoring the large gaurd captain with the hammer. He sprinted to the mage, a Warhammer impacting just a few feet behind his form, and a pursuing owner.
Virdel heard the mage finish chanting, the pit in his stomach swelled. A burst of energy erupted from the mages finger tips as five magical balls of energy hurtled towards the dark elf. Virdel quickly sidesteped in mid-stride, his supierior agility taking prowess. Even with his quick evasion, three of the magical balls of energy still connected, sending Virdel realing to the ground, sliding to the feet of the mage. He gasped for breath, trying desperatly to regain composure. By now, the angry Captain had caught up with him, and had raised his Warhammer above his, and intended it to end the drows life by crushing his skull. Virdel closed his eyes for a second, and quickly summound his last bits of energy. He then proped himself up with his un-armed hand, and swept his foot violently across the floor, connecting against the Captains, leg's, tripping him, and disarming him. He then rolled to his feet, spun quickly, and flung his remaining scimitar to the Battle-Mage who was preparing another spell. The weapon hit the man square in the chest.
Virdel drew his dagger from his belt, and quickly turned to the Captain, who was just getting up. He lunged to the fallen man, driving the dagger deep into the Captains thraot, ending his life.
Virdel took a deep breath before removing the dagger, and cleaning it. He was tired, and sore from the fight, but couldn't stop now. He retreived his two scimitars, placed them back into the sheathes. He then made for the nearest exit...
*****
@Magus: When your done with the Rakshasa, We'll have Virdel meet up with you.
@Craig & Xandax: Can you two try and wrap up that fight soon? Not to rush you or anything, but we should progress it a little more quickly.
@All: LEt's all try and get back to the habit of posting once a day.
@Rail: Are you still around?
I'll try@All: Let's all try and get back to the habit of posting once a day.
No problem. The fight's over. I think he'll wake up soon after Thryn and Xandax's battle ends@Magus: When your done with the Rakshasa, We'll have Virdel meet up with you.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
{Originally posted by Magus:
<STRONG>No problem. The fight's over. I think he'll wake up soon after Thryn and Xandax's battle ends
I'll try to get a post through pretty soon today - because I'm home sick from school, so I should have the time.
But I just don't know what to do
- whack Thryn maybe }
Insert signature here.
Seeing the last thief flee, Xandaxs attention is drawn towards Calahan.
Suddenly Xandax’ notices in the horizon a dark black pillar of energy.
“Dark magic, it can only be dark magic, but whom…” Xandax thoughts are interrupted.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!” Calahan yells out.
Xandax snaps back into reality and starts running towards Calahan.
Assesing the situation as he runs toward him, Xanadx sees Thryn lying on the ground, all but immobile and Calahan holding another thief up as a shield towards the unseen archers. There are no arrows being fired at this time. “Must be the leader of this band” Xandax thinks to himself.
“We got to get out of here” Xandax says to Calahan as he takes up position behind him, glancing towards Thryn laying on the ground.
”WHAT? – You coward, we fight ‘till they are dead” Calahan screamed back at Xandax.
“We need to move on – we don’t know how many or what we are up against, only fools fight when in such a position.”
Whether it was the fool part that made Calahan react Xandax didn’t know – but Calahan started moving slowly backwards against the end of this canyon. Xandax followed him covered behind his shield.
Reaching the end of the canyon, Calahan was about to slit his living shields’ throat.
“Let her live” Xandax said.
“What? I am the commander…….”
“She is more valurable alive”
Again there seemed to be a word that made Calahan come to reason.
“Okay, you carry her” Calahan said as he started tying his hostage.
Afterwards this 3-man party moved on towards the point where they should rendezvous with the shipment, but it was to late. The people that had been with the transport was dead and there were no sigth of the cargo.
”Damn it” Calahan whispered to himself.
“We might as well go back to the headquarters and interrogate this prisoner – for your sake, I hope she has something interesting to say” he said to Xandax.
The trip back was uneventful, neither the prisoner nor Calahan said anything. Xandax’ mind wandered, without finding answers.
“That dark pillar of energy was intriguing, what force could have created it, what kind of creature. “
Suddenly Xandax’ notices in the horizon a dark black pillar of energy.
“Dark magic, it can only be dark magic, but whom…” Xandax thoughts are interrupted.
“GET OVER HERE AND HELP ME YOU LOUSY SON OF A B*TCH!” Calahan yells out.
Xandax snaps back into reality and starts running towards Calahan.
Assesing the situation as he runs toward him, Xanadx sees Thryn lying on the ground, all but immobile and Calahan holding another thief up as a shield towards the unseen archers. There are no arrows being fired at this time. “Must be the leader of this band” Xandax thinks to himself.
“We got to get out of here” Xandax says to Calahan as he takes up position behind him, glancing towards Thryn laying on the ground.
”WHAT? – You coward, we fight ‘till they are dead” Calahan screamed back at Xandax.
“We need to move on – we don’t know how many or what we are up against, only fools fight when in such a position.”
Whether it was the fool part that made Calahan react Xandax didn’t know – but Calahan started moving slowly backwards against the end of this canyon. Xandax followed him covered behind his shield.
Reaching the end of the canyon, Calahan was about to slit his living shields’ throat.
“Let her live” Xandax said.
“What? I am the commander…….”
“She is more valurable alive”
Again there seemed to be a word that made Calahan come to reason.
“Okay, you carry her” Calahan said as he started tying his hostage.
Afterwards this 3-man party moved on towards the point where they should rendezvous with the shipment, but it was to late. The people that had been with the transport was dead and there were no sigth of the cargo.
”Damn it” Calahan whispered to himself.
“We might as well go back to the headquarters and interrogate this prisoner – for your sake, I hope she has something interesting to say” he said to Xandax.
The trip back was uneventful, neither the prisoner nor Calahan said anything. Xandax’ mind wandered, without finding answers.
“That dark pillar of energy was intriguing, what force could have created it, what kind of creature. “
Insert signature here.
Originally posted by Aegis:
<STRONG>@Rail: Are you still around?</STRONG>
Vaguely. I've been absolutely swamped IRL over the past few months with work and such, but things are starting to calm down. My character's kind of in limbo at the moment, off on a tangent by himself. I'll post more soon and get reunited with the rest of you as soon as I am able.
Matti Il-Amin, Paladin, comedian, and expert adventurer. Proudly bearing the colors of the [url="http://www.svelmoe.dk/blade/index.htm"]Blades of the Banshee[/url]
The trip back was uneventful, neither the prisoner nor Calahan said anything. Xandax’ mind wandered, without finding answers.
“That dark pillar of energy was intriguing, what force could have created it, what kind of creature. “
Unfettered by the dark of night, and bent on putting distance between them and the band of thieves that ransacked the caravan, they made surprisingly good time, reaching the city just as the sun reached zenith. Entering the city gates, Calahan seized a large, mottled brown cloak from an unfortunate beggar. He handed this to Llira, who remained silent, then pushed her forward, keeping her close and in front. They made it back to headquarters without trouble. They had either caught the Thieves snoozing, or the rats were biding their time. No matter. Soon they’d wipe the putrid cult from the face of Athkatla. After that, running them out of Amn would hardly be a challenge.
Regardless, this one smacked of importance. No doubt her interrogation would be of inestimable aid in the coming attack. Apporaching the building, his pleasant reflections were disrupted by a frantic-looking guardsmen stumbling towards them.
“What is the meaning of this captain!” Calahan shouted.
“Sir! The alarm has been tripped! The contingent sent up hasn’t returned. I heard fighting and went to notify whoemver I could find, sir!”
Just then he saw a shape jump from the second story window and land out of view. Shoving Llira into the captain, yelling "Lock up this prisoner!”, he grabbed Xandax and sprinted in the direction of the escaping form.
“Go that way and cut him off if he tries to head west towards the bridge!” Calahan bellowed to Xandax, pointing to an alleyway while he ran down a sidestreet.
* * * * *
The sun was already high in the sky by the time Magus awoke. Immediately the stink of death assaulted his senses. He felt something land on his cheek, then came a sharp sting of pain. Swatting the fly away in utter revulsion, Magus stumbled to his feet. Rotting corpses of demon and genie lay decomposing in the heat of the noon sun. He almost wretched. He had seen death, dealt it and been its mournful witness, but never had he stayed around to behold its aftermath.
He forced the bile down. Now wasn’t the time for petty indulgence. He pulled out an ornate dagger, it silver pommel and ice-blue blade seeming to pulsate at his touch. But one look at the rakshasa’s corpse whisked away that line of thought. A slight shiver went down his spine, and returning his dagger to its place, he muttered a word of magic. A ghostly blade appeared next to the corpse in response, and Magus swept his arm downward as if wielding the thing. Head left despicable body, and a nudge from the sword sent it rolling slowly down the gentle incline to his feet. Picking up the disgusting thing by the thick fur, he stuffed it hurriedly into a bag of holding, making certain it didn’t come into contact with the sides of the bag. That done, he reactivated his disguise and teleported away from the decaying battlefield, thankful to begone from the wretched place. A second later he reappeared in the Government District in front of Cowled Wizard headquarters, and found himself in the midst of a frantic chase.
* * * * *
As night descended over the valley stained by black demon’s blood, one body, then a couple, then a host began to stir. Dead newly fallen, and dead fallen from some battle ages past rose up, dark and ancient necromancy fueling their unholy fire. One by one, two score trudged off in the direction of the City of Coin that night. The malignant artifact apparently had powers that even Magus didn’t know of...
* * * * *
@all: What do you guys think? I thought that would add a little flavor.
[ 09-04-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
“That dark pillar of energy was intriguing, what force could have created it, what kind of creature. “
Unfettered by the dark of night, and bent on putting distance between them and the band of thieves that ransacked the caravan, they made surprisingly good time, reaching the city just as the sun reached zenith. Entering the city gates, Calahan seized a large, mottled brown cloak from an unfortunate beggar. He handed this to Llira, who remained silent, then pushed her forward, keeping her close and in front. They made it back to headquarters without trouble. They had either caught the Thieves snoozing, or the rats were biding their time. No matter. Soon they’d wipe the putrid cult from the face of Athkatla. After that, running them out of Amn would hardly be a challenge.
Regardless, this one smacked of importance. No doubt her interrogation would be of inestimable aid in the coming attack. Apporaching the building, his pleasant reflections were disrupted by a frantic-looking guardsmen stumbling towards them.
“What is the meaning of this captain!” Calahan shouted.
“Sir! The alarm has been tripped! The contingent sent up hasn’t returned. I heard fighting and went to notify whoemver I could find, sir!”
Just then he saw a shape jump from the second story window and land out of view. Shoving Llira into the captain, yelling "Lock up this prisoner!”, he grabbed Xandax and sprinted in the direction of the escaping form.
“Go that way and cut him off if he tries to head west towards the bridge!” Calahan bellowed to Xandax, pointing to an alleyway while he ran down a sidestreet.
* * * * *
The sun was already high in the sky by the time Magus awoke. Immediately the stink of death assaulted his senses. He felt something land on his cheek, then came a sharp sting of pain. Swatting the fly away in utter revulsion, Magus stumbled to his feet. Rotting corpses of demon and genie lay decomposing in the heat of the noon sun. He almost wretched. He had seen death, dealt it and been its mournful witness, but never had he stayed around to behold its aftermath.
He forced the bile down. Now wasn’t the time for petty indulgence. He pulled out an ornate dagger, it silver pommel and ice-blue blade seeming to pulsate at his touch. But one look at the rakshasa’s corpse whisked away that line of thought. A slight shiver went down his spine, and returning his dagger to its place, he muttered a word of magic. A ghostly blade appeared next to the corpse in response, and Magus swept his arm downward as if wielding the thing. Head left despicable body, and a nudge from the sword sent it rolling slowly down the gentle incline to his feet. Picking up the disgusting thing by the thick fur, he stuffed it hurriedly into a bag of holding, making certain it didn’t come into contact with the sides of the bag. That done, he reactivated his disguise and teleported away from the decaying battlefield, thankful to begone from the wretched place. A second later he reappeared in the Government District in front of Cowled Wizard headquarters, and found himself in the midst of a frantic chase.
* * * * *
As night descended over the valley stained by black demon’s blood, one body, then a couple, then a host began to stir. Dead newly fallen, and dead fallen from some battle ages past rose up, dark and ancient necromancy fueling their unholy fire. One by one, two score trudged off in the direction of the City of Coin that night. The malignant artifact apparently had powers that even Magus didn’t know of...
* * * * *
@all: What do you guys think? I thought that would add a little flavor.
[ 09-04-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
{OOC: since I don't really know where this is going, I'm making my post pretty short, I think Magus has something up his sleves }
Xandax ran up the ally pointed out by
Calahan.
”What was this – another thieves attempt? maybe the onslaught on both the transport and on their group had been mealy an distraction.” Xandax thought.
Xandax fasten his shield with the leather straps from the shield on to his left arm as he ran through the alley, drew his sword.
Death was once again in the air, he could smell it.
[ 09-04-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
}Xandax ran up the ally pointed out by
Calahan.
”What was this – another thieves attempt? maybe the onslaught on both the transport and on their group had been mealy an distraction.” Xandax thought.
Xandax fasten his shield with the leather straps from the shield on to his left arm as he ran through the alley, drew his sword.
Death was once again in the air, he could smell it.
[ 09-04-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
Insert signature here.