The Raiders circled in around Virrilis, the Bladesinger's weapon poised, ready to strike out at the first blade within reach. It didn't take long for the raiders to move in with the confidence brought on by out numbering their foe. The four raiders moved in, closing the gap quickly. Virrilis moved just as swiftly, kicking up tufts of sand in the process. In a sudden movement, the elf lunged forward, his dagger cutting silver streak through the air, lashing out at the nearest attackers chest, not meant to connect, just to give some space. Before the dagger returned to it's ready position, Virrilis curved his body about, thrusting out with his scimitar towards the raider adjacent to him. The Marauder angled his body slightly, but not enough, a the keen scimitar cut a red trail along the man's chest, sending him back, one hand cradling his wound, the other gripping his own weapon tightly.
Virrilis didn't stop his motion. In a flash of movement, he sprinted himself forward, towards his initial target, but instead of attacking wit hhis weapons, he kicked forward, planting one foot on the raider's chest. Then, angling his body, he swung the other over his head, his body following suit, his hair and flowing clothes creating a shimmering wall as his body moved through the air, almost tangling up in the raiders behind him. He quickly centred his body, bringing his legs down, and touching back to the ground, his blades already working, cutting deeply into one of the riader's rexposed backs. Another one down, the Bladesinger thought to himself.
Virrilis had more room to work now, the three raiders moving to try and encircle him again. It wouldn't happen easily. The three came in swiftly, each one's blade arcing in towards the elf. Virrilis' hands worked faster, his dagger parrying the raider to the left, his scimitar working back and forth the raiders ahead, and to the right. He lunged himself to the side, forcing some pressure on the raider to the left, his scimitar still ringing loudly off the other blades. He ran his dagger down the edge of the Marauder's blade, to the pommel, before heaving the man back. As soon as the Bladesinger had more space, he raised his hand, dagger still in palm, and mouth a few, silent words. The raider began to charge back in, but was suddenly halted in his tracks, his eyes slwoly becoming heavier, and his body staggering to maintain balance. That would give Virrilis the time he needed, or so he thought.
He spun his attention fully to the two raiders still battling strong against him, only to see the looming shadow of their allies quickly running to join the frey, along with the veiled Marauder stalking in slowly, his hand pointed towards the Bladesinger. Virrilis pushed forward, swinging his dagger around, forcing the two raiders back. After a moment, he slashed out with his scimitar, the raider barely blocking it in time. Virrilis didn't concern himself with it, and lunged in tight, thrusting his dagger deep into the man's chest. He whipped himself, and the dagger, back out swiftly, moving to counter the other raider's newest attack. As he did so, he heard the steel ring loudly, shrieking in protest. The blades locked for a moment, and the elf gritted his teeth, while the Marauder grinned a toothy grin. Virrilis suddenly felt something close in around his body. His grip weakened on his blades, before dropping them. He looked frantically about him, seeing nothing that could possibly have grabbed him. Finally, he turned to see the veiled raider, his hand clenched tightly. After a moment, his vision turned black...
Lost Souls Story Thread
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
-Calm down my friend.- It was Japheth. - Calm down.-
He knew this voice, it was a friend. But who was he and what was he trying to tell him? The words didn’t make any sense anymore!
-Stay there, I’m coming.-
“What?” The voice didn’t answer.
Confident about the way he handled the affairs with the xvart, the sergeant made his way through town, still vigilant and with a satisfied smile on his face. Suddenly and out of nowhere, a man appeared in front of, he came out of nothing. Instinctively he drew he sword, ready for anything.
The stranger turned around and looked him straight into the eyes. He wore a long green robe, decorated with golden dragon figurines. He tossed back his hood, revealing his face, a large grey beard and eyes that stared right through the sergeant’s soul.
“You, how dare you arrest one of the most important Regent of all members of The Order?”
Shook up buy this important looking man, the sergeant tried to regain his dignity. “Who are you to meddle with the affairs of local justice?”
“I am Japheth, chancellor of the Arcane Order.” With these words, he pointed towards a broche on his robe, a silver star. “I demand you show me to him.”
Overrun by Japheth, the sergeant complied, but he was not happy to do so. “This way.” He nudged his head towards the county jail. “But he’s not going anywhere until I allow him to do so.”
Not answering, Japheth made his way towards where Yolta was held.
Stepping inside, he saw Yolta laying face down on the floor, the sphere still hovering in the air, containing nothing but air. The sergeant entered right after him “What the…?”
Japheth didn’t waste any time and started casting a spell immediately.
“Integro apud amicitia, addo corroboro claritas!”
Instantly, Yolta felt his strength of mind returning to him, as if the mist in his mind cleared. He could think straight again, if not for this incredible headache. “Japheth?”
-I’m here my friend.- He answered without words, just feelings.
Yolta slowly rose to his feet. “See, I told you something was amiss here…”
He knew this voice, it was a friend. But who was he and what was he trying to tell him? The words didn’t make any sense anymore!
-Stay there, I’m coming.-
“What?” The voice didn’t answer.
Confident about the way he handled the affairs with the xvart, the sergeant made his way through town, still vigilant and with a satisfied smile on his face. Suddenly and out of nowhere, a man appeared in front of, he came out of nothing. Instinctively he drew he sword, ready for anything.
The stranger turned around and looked him straight into the eyes. He wore a long green robe, decorated with golden dragon figurines. He tossed back his hood, revealing his face, a large grey beard and eyes that stared right through the sergeant’s soul.
“You, how dare you arrest one of the most important Regent of all members of The Order?”
Shook up buy this important looking man, the sergeant tried to regain his dignity. “Who are you to meddle with the affairs of local justice?”
“I am Japheth, chancellor of the Arcane Order.” With these words, he pointed towards a broche on his robe, a silver star. “I demand you show me to him.”
Overrun by Japheth, the sergeant complied, but he was not happy to do so. “This way.” He nudged his head towards the county jail. “But he’s not going anywhere until I allow him to do so.”
Not answering, Japheth made his way towards where Yolta was held.
Stepping inside, he saw Yolta laying face down on the floor, the sphere still hovering in the air, containing nothing but air. The sergeant entered right after him “What the…?”
Japheth didn’t waste any time and started casting a spell immediately.
“Integro apud amicitia, addo corroboro claritas!”
Instantly, Yolta felt his strength of mind returning to him, as if the mist in his mind cleared. He could think straight again, if not for this incredible headache. “Japheth?”
-I’m here my friend.- He answered without words, just feelings.
Yolta slowly rose to his feet. “See, I told you something was amiss here…”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
What the hell was going on? The sergeant glanced at the man that called himself Japheth, then at the xvart. His gaze was then drawn to the floating sphere. What the hell was that doing there? He looked at Japheth again, scowling a bit. He wondered if the guy was as important as he seemed to think he was. Best to play it safe, at least for now.
“Look,” he said, his voice cool and in command. “I don’t know who that xvart is. And frankly, I don’t really care. I caught the fellow trying to sneak through the gate. When questioned about it, he lied. What with the trouble around these parts lately, we’ve been ordered to arrest any suspicious individuals trying to enter the city. If a goblinoid trying to sneak into the city isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is. If you have a problem with that, take it up with my superior. Captain Ulbricht is in Boltswick at the moment, meeting with the Council. You can wait for him to return in a week or so, or you can go see him yourself. But until I get orders from the Captain, this xvart stays put. As for you…” Here he turned to Yolta. “You have some explaining to do. What happened here? What is that floating thing doing there?”
“Sergeant Kurdis, sir!”
“Hmm?” He turned to see the two morning shift guards, Sergeant Hummel and Private Indsor, hustling down the stairs.
“Private First-Class Geldyn told us you hadn’t returned yet. Who is this?” It was Hummel that spoke. They both glared at the conceited-looking old man, a wizard by the looks of him.
Indsor’s hand was on his sword. “Do you need any help, sir?”
Sergeant Kurdis locked eyes with Japheth. “No, I think he was just leaving.”
* * * * *
Xandax narrowed his eyes slightly, while looking toward Aerie “Where is Magus?” he asked.
Aerie had been listening enthusiastically to Xandax’s tale to this point, though she’d noticed Xandax looking around strangely from time to time. Nonetheless, she couldn’t hide her surprise at Xandax’s abrupt question.
“Oh, I suppose you didn’t know…” She trailed off, glancing away. Hiding her face, Xandax thought. It was but a brief moment, and when she faced Xandax again she looked normal enough. “He disappeared after that battle with Lazal. I haven’t seen him since…no one has. I’ve been searching for him these past couple months. I know he’s alive, somewhere. I’ve been using divination to try and locate him. It led me here…” Here Aerie paused for a moment, hesitating. “…And now that I’ve concluded my business in the area…I need some money to buy materials for another scrying. And that’s why I’m here.” She looked at Xandax and smiled. “You know, I’m doing a magic show here this evening. Perhaps you’d care to stay and watch?”
She looked at Xandax hopefully, catching Xandax off-guard. Before he knew it he was nodding his head. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great! You’ll be here too, right?” She looked at Gidim.
“O-Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” Gidim stuttered.
“Then it’s all set!” She was grinning from ear to ear. “Hey Xandax,” she said, sobering a bit. “Before he disappeared, Magus told me of the phantoms that haunt you. How’s that going?” Seeing Xandax’s surprised look, she chuckled a bit. “You didn’t tell him anything, right? Magus has his ways though. You didn’t think he hired you entirely on faith, did you?”
“Look,” he said, his voice cool and in command. “I don’t know who that xvart is. And frankly, I don’t really care. I caught the fellow trying to sneak through the gate. When questioned about it, he lied. What with the trouble around these parts lately, we’ve been ordered to arrest any suspicious individuals trying to enter the city. If a goblinoid trying to sneak into the city isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is. If you have a problem with that, take it up with my superior. Captain Ulbricht is in Boltswick at the moment, meeting with the Council. You can wait for him to return in a week or so, or you can go see him yourself. But until I get orders from the Captain, this xvart stays put. As for you…” Here he turned to Yolta. “You have some explaining to do. What happened here? What is that floating thing doing there?”
“Sergeant Kurdis, sir!”
“Hmm?” He turned to see the two morning shift guards, Sergeant Hummel and Private Indsor, hustling down the stairs.
“Private First-Class Geldyn told us you hadn’t returned yet. Who is this?” It was Hummel that spoke. They both glared at the conceited-looking old man, a wizard by the looks of him.
Indsor’s hand was on his sword. “Do you need any help, sir?”
Sergeant Kurdis locked eyes with Japheth. “No, I think he was just leaving.”
* * * * *
Xandax narrowed his eyes slightly, while looking toward Aerie “Where is Magus?” he asked.
Aerie had been listening enthusiastically to Xandax’s tale to this point, though she’d noticed Xandax looking around strangely from time to time. Nonetheless, she couldn’t hide her surprise at Xandax’s abrupt question.
“Oh, I suppose you didn’t know…” She trailed off, glancing away. Hiding her face, Xandax thought. It was but a brief moment, and when she faced Xandax again she looked normal enough. “He disappeared after that battle with Lazal. I haven’t seen him since…no one has. I’ve been searching for him these past couple months. I know he’s alive, somewhere. I’ve been using divination to try and locate him. It led me here…” Here Aerie paused for a moment, hesitating. “…And now that I’ve concluded my business in the area…I need some money to buy materials for another scrying. And that’s why I’m here.” She looked at Xandax and smiled. “You know, I’m doing a magic show here this evening. Perhaps you’d care to stay and watch?”
She looked at Xandax hopefully, catching Xandax off-guard. Before he knew it he was nodding his head. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great! You’ll be here too, right?” She looked at Gidim.
“O-Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” Gidim stuttered.
“Then it’s all set!” She was grinning from ear to ear. “Hey Xandax,” she said, sobering a bit. “Before he disappeared, Magus told me of the phantoms that haunt you. How’s that going?” Seeing Xandax’s surprised look, she chuckled a bit. “You didn’t tell him anything, right? Magus has his ways though. You didn’t think he hired you entirely on faith, did 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?
“He disappeared after that battle with Lazal.”
Xandax imidiately felt the pain in his right arm, the feeling of having it separated from the body. He shook the pain from his mind; it was not real.
Aerie had asked for his presences at a magic show. "Show, heh" Xandax thought, she had to be pretty desperate to put on a show for the masses, if only for the money. Xandax had never had needs of money, his wandering though the realm had provided him richly with what money he had use for and more so.
“Then it’s all set!” Aerie was grinning from ear to ear. “Hey Xandax,” she said, sobering a bit. “Before he disappeared, Magus told me of the phantoms that haunt you. How’s that going?” Seeing Xandax’s surprised look, she chuckled a bit. “You didn’t tell him anything, right? Magus has his ways though. You didn’t think he hired you entirely on faith, did you?”
Xandax froze a bit "How did …." He paused his thoughts. Sure why not – that creature had telepathic abilities, no wonder if its master would have also. Xandax sighed in his mind, but tried to give off as few emotions as possible. He didn’t like others roaming around where they weren’t supposed to, that was part of the reason why his mother had learned Xandax to control his mind to such an extent as making him resilient to mind controls.
"What did they know, how much did they know, should he tell them, could they possible help?" The thoughts were many and fast, Xandax wasn’t used to others knowing, unless they were participants of the haunting. But these weren’t – they couldn’t. Otherwise they would have made their move long ago, when he was in vulnerable positions.
Xandax decided that giving off as little information as possible would be the best approach.
”It is still there, stronger then ever. That is why I travel in this direction, taking the less obvious route.” Xandax replied. He could feel the warmth of Ferox at the thoughts, although it properly still was cool. The mysterious sword - Ferox – Xandax didn’t know much about it, although he had wielded it an immense number of times over the years. Xandax hit many of the facts as good as he could, for now he didn't quite trust Aerie enough, and he especially didn't trust that person at her side. So he decided not to let them in on the growing menace toward him. Xandax' father had proven more dangerous towards him in death.
Xandax glanced at Gidim, then back at Aerie.
”There is little I can do about it at the moment though, so I might as well stay around here in case I am needed - ” Xandax looked at Aerie “- and for starters, a friendly person there tonight at your ……. “ he sighed a little, but a small smile appeared on his face, as if the situation was ammusing “...show, might be good start.”
Xandax imidiately felt the pain in his right arm, the feeling of having it separated from the body. He shook the pain from his mind; it was not real.
Aerie had asked for his presences at a magic show. "Show, heh" Xandax thought, she had to be pretty desperate to put on a show for the masses, if only for the money. Xandax had never had needs of money, his wandering though the realm had provided him richly with what money he had use for and more so.
“Then it’s all set!” Aerie was grinning from ear to ear. “Hey Xandax,” she said, sobering a bit. “Before he disappeared, Magus told me of the phantoms that haunt you. How’s that going?” Seeing Xandax’s surprised look, she chuckled a bit. “You didn’t tell him anything, right? Magus has his ways though. You didn’t think he hired you entirely on faith, did you?”
Xandax froze a bit "How did …." He paused his thoughts. Sure why not – that creature had telepathic abilities, no wonder if its master would have also. Xandax sighed in his mind, but tried to give off as few emotions as possible. He didn’t like others roaming around where they weren’t supposed to, that was part of the reason why his mother had learned Xandax to control his mind to such an extent as making him resilient to mind controls.
"What did they know, how much did they know, should he tell them, could they possible help?" The thoughts were many and fast, Xandax wasn’t used to others knowing, unless they were participants of the haunting. But these weren’t – they couldn’t. Otherwise they would have made their move long ago, when he was in vulnerable positions.
Xandax decided that giving off as little information as possible would be the best approach.
”It is still there, stronger then ever. That is why I travel in this direction, taking the less obvious route.” Xandax replied. He could feel the warmth of Ferox at the thoughts, although it properly still was cool. The mysterious sword - Ferox – Xandax didn’t know much about it, although he had wielded it an immense number of times over the years. Xandax hit many of the facts as good as he could, for now he didn't quite trust Aerie enough, and he especially didn't trust that person at her side. So he decided not to let them in on the growing menace toward him. Xandax' father had proven more dangerous towards him in death.
Xandax glanced at Gidim, then back at Aerie.
”There is little I can do about it at the moment though, so I might as well stay around here in case I am needed - ” Xandax looked at Aerie “- and for starters, a friendly person there tonight at your ……. “ he sighed a little, but a small smile appeared on his face, as if the situation was ammusing “...show, might be good start.”
Insert signature here.
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Reaching out for support, Yolta felt Japheth’s arm wrap around him. Though the feeblemind effect had been lifted, he still felt dizzy.
“Sergeant Kurdis, I beg you pardon for my earlier…” Yolta hesitated. “…little white lie. Please try and see it from my point of view though. Everywhere I come, people judge me by appearance.” A fault he had made himself this night.
Yolta caught the gaze of the sergeant and locked it to his before continuing. “Tired of my long journey, I made the wrong decision by lying to you to gain your trust. But I am not hoping for your sympathy, so if you will hand me my possession.” He released his gaze of the sergeant and glanced over to the chest holding his staff. “Then I’ll be on my way.”
Yolta released himself of his friends support. “Before I take my leave, I shall introduce myself the proper way.” While bowing he picked the symbol of the Order out of the inside of his robe, the silver star, and showed it to Sergeant Kurdis. “I am Yolta, regent of the Arcane Order, teacher of magic and student of live. I thank you for the lesson I learned here in your fair town.”
-Aren’t we forgetting something?-
“Oh yes, let me take care of this.” Yolta faced the sphere in his jail cell. With a snap of his fingers, it disappeared.
-Will you tell him about the hakeashar?-
-I had better not, but I intend to keep a close eye on the town of Pedsgin.-
Yolta smiled at Sergeant Kurdis politely. “My cane?”
“Sergeant Kurdis, I beg you pardon for my earlier…” Yolta hesitated. “…little white lie. Please try and see it from my point of view though. Everywhere I come, people judge me by appearance.” A fault he had made himself this night.
Yolta caught the gaze of the sergeant and locked it to his before continuing. “Tired of my long journey, I made the wrong decision by lying to you to gain your trust. But I am not hoping for your sympathy, so if you will hand me my possession.” He released his gaze of the sergeant and glanced over to the chest holding his staff. “Then I’ll be on my way.”
Yolta released himself of his friends support. “Before I take my leave, I shall introduce myself the proper way.” While bowing he picked the symbol of the Order out of the inside of his robe, the silver star, and showed it to Sergeant Kurdis. “I am Yolta, regent of the Arcane Order, teacher of magic and student of live. I thank you for the lesson I learned here in your fair town.”
-Aren’t we forgetting something?-
“Oh yes, let me take care of this.” Yolta faced the sphere in his jail cell. With a snap of his fingers, it disappeared.
-Will you tell him about the hakeashar?-
-I had better not, but I intend to keep a close eye on the town of Pedsgin.-
Yolta smiled at Sergeant Kurdis politely. “My cane?”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
“I believe you misunderstand.” Sergeant Kurdis’s voice was cold and devoid of pity. “I thought I’d made myself clear. You’re not leaving without a direct release order from the Captain. Period.” Sergeant Kurdis stepped outside the jail cell and fingered his key. He eyed Japheth. “I suggest you leave before I lock you up with him.”
“Hold, Sergeant.”
A mid-sized man in his early 40’s walked down the stairs, his stride clipped and brisk. Cropped black hair topped a clean-shaven face, his deep brown eyes scanning the room as he took in the situation. A red sash hung across clean polished splint mail, displaying standard insignia as well as several medals earned over the years. On his back hung an elegant medium shield, purple with a golden border, the seal of Cormyr displayed prominently in the center. Hanging at his side, the golden hilt of a long sword peeked out from an expensive brown leather sheathe.
The three soldiers turned, surprised. “Captain Ulbricht!” Sergeant Hummel shouted, saluting. “What brings us this unexpected honor, sir? We didn’t expect your return for another week, sir.”
“At ease, Hummel. I expected my proposal wouldn’t be well received, yet I never imagined the fools would flat-out reject it. There was nothing left to discuss, and so here I am.” He turned his gaze to Japheth and Yolta. “I see we have some guests. Care to explain the situation to me, Sergeant Kurdis?”
“Aye, sir.” He explained his encounter with the suspicious xvart at the gate, and Japheth’s subsequent interference.
“Hmm…I see. I suppose it was unavoidable. Very well.” He turned once again to Japheth and Yolta. “Chancellor and Regent of the Arcane Order. I apologize for the misunderstanding. But you must understand our position as well. This area has been troubled by monsters and bandits as of late, and I had given my men orders to arrest any suspicious individuals entering the city while I was away.” Here he eyed Yolta. “Lying to the gate guards would have been reason enough to detain any individual. And of course you must know that your kind has a rather savage reputation, esteemed Regent. You are free to go, but please remember in the future that status does not exempt one from the procedures and regulations that provide for the safety of us all.”
Sergeant Kurdis unlocked the confiscated materials chest and handed Yolta his staff. “Try to stay out of trouble this time.” He turned to Captain Ulbricht and saluted. “If I may, Captain? It’s been a long night.”
“Aye, Sergeant. Report back to me this evening so I can debrief you on what happened while I was away.” He glanced at Hummel and Indsor. “You may return to your post, gentleman.”
Sergeant Kurdis nodded and took his leave. Hummel and Indsor saluted and then left as well.
“Hold, Sergeant.”
A mid-sized man in his early 40’s walked down the stairs, his stride clipped and brisk. Cropped black hair topped a clean-shaven face, his deep brown eyes scanning the room as he took in the situation. A red sash hung across clean polished splint mail, displaying standard insignia as well as several medals earned over the years. On his back hung an elegant medium shield, purple with a golden border, the seal of Cormyr displayed prominently in the center. Hanging at his side, the golden hilt of a long sword peeked out from an expensive brown leather sheathe.
The three soldiers turned, surprised. “Captain Ulbricht!” Sergeant Hummel shouted, saluting. “What brings us this unexpected honor, sir? We didn’t expect your return for another week, sir.”
“At ease, Hummel. I expected my proposal wouldn’t be well received, yet I never imagined the fools would flat-out reject it. There was nothing left to discuss, and so here I am.” He turned his gaze to Japheth and Yolta. “I see we have some guests. Care to explain the situation to me, Sergeant Kurdis?”
“Aye, sir.” He explained his encounter with the suspicious xvart at the gate, and Japheth’s subsequent interference.
“Hmm…I see. I suppose it was unavoidable. Very well.” He turned once again to Japheth and Yolta. “Chancellor and Regent of the Arcane Order. I apologize for the misunderstanding. But you must understand our position as well. This area has been troubled by monsters and bandits as of late, and I had given my men orders to arrest any suspicious individuals entering the city while I was away.” Here he eyed Yolta. “Lying to the gate guards would have been reason enough to detain any individual. And of course you must know that your kind has a rather savage reputation, esteemed Regent. You are free to go, but please remember in the future that status does not exempt one from the procedures and regulations that provide for the safety of us all.”
Sergeant Kurdis unlocked the confiscated materials chest and handed Yolta his staff. “Try to stay out of trouble this time.” He turned to Captain Ulbricht and saluted. “If I may, Captain? It’s been a long night.”
“Aye, Sergeant. Report back to me this evening so I can debrief you on what happened while I was away.” He glanced at Hummel and Indsor. “You may return to your post, gentleman.”
Sergeant Kurdis nodded and took his leave. Hummel and Indsor saluted and then left as well.
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?
As they sat down Aerie seemed to recognize the stranger. “Xandax?” she said to him. They began to talk, obviously catching up from old times, but Gidim quickly became disinterested. He agreed to watch Aerie’s magic show later in the evening. Then, he politely excused himself to take a walk.
The air outside was exhilarating. He couldn’t remember the last time that he felt so at peace. Although he had to brace himself as he walked, he felt more energetic then ever.
Gidim passed a tree behind the inn and decided to rest on the inviting green grass near the base of the trunk. With a small groan he lowered himself onto the ground. Resting his head on the soft bark of the trunk; he saw an older man dressed in splint mail, enter the town. From the way he moved and addressed the guards, Gidim could tell he was a man of importance. The cool breeze and the soft grass all made Gidim drowsy. With a gentle sway of the tree, Gidim fell asleep.
---
When he awoke, it was evening. Although it was hard to tell due to some menacing clouds that had overtaken the sky. The temperature and distinctly dropped and Gidim shivered a bit. A slight fog had risen and the air smelled dank. “What lousy weather to awake too,” he mumbled to himself as his arose. He wrapped his cloak tightly around his body and looked back at the welcoming warmth of the inn.
Gidim slowly walked back to the inn as he noticed a glow coming from within his cloak. Ugalla, the small wooden club he was accustomed to carrying had a sinister looking blue glow emanating from it. Although he had no recollection of it glowing this way before, he could not shake the feeling of dread that seemed to fill his body. He quickly covered the club and hurried towards the inn. Suddenly one of the guards from the gate gave a shout.
“UNDEAD!” he screamed.
Before Gidim could react the town’s gate shattered, with pieces of wood and iron flying everywhere. The force launched the guard several feet from his post and knocked Gidim to the ground. As he lifted his head, there stood the menacing skeleton of a forest troll. Several smaller creatures stood behind it, one that looked to be a recently dead orc. Gidim quickly arose with agility he didn’t know he possessed. Although he was not a fighter, he had been in enough situations to know how to handle himself. He quickly drew his favorite weapon, Ugalla, only to once again remember the evil blue glow emanating from it. The troll skeleton seemed to notice Gidim drawing his club and focused intently on Gidim. The club’s glow seemed to have a profound effect on all of the creatures, which only made Gidim more nervous. Rage was what is looked like. The troll skeleton opened his jaw and let out an unearthly roar.
Gidim, unsure of what to do, backed up as the group advanced.
The air outside was exhilarating. He couldn’t remember the last time that he felt so at peace. Although he had to brace himself as he walked, he felt more energetic then ever.
Gidim passed a tree behind the inn and decided to rest on the inviting green grass near the base of the trunk. With a small groan he lowered himself onto the ground. Resting his head on the soft bark of the trunk; he saw an older man dressed in splint mail, enter the town. From the way he moved and addressed the guards, Gidim could tell he was a man of importance. The cool breeze and the soft grass all made Gidim drowsy. With a gentle sway of the tree, Gidim fell asleep.
---
When he awoke, it was evening. Although it was hard to tell due to some menacing clouds that had overtaken the sky. The temperature and distinctly dropped and Gidim shivered a bit. A slight fog had risen and the air smelled dank. “What lousy weather to awake too,” he mumbled to himself as his arose. He wrapped his cloak tightly around his body and looked back at the welcoming warmth of the inn.
Gidim slowly walked back to the inn as he noticed a glow coming from within his cloak. Ugalla, the small wooden club he was accustomed to carrying had a sinister looking blue glow emanating from it. Although he had no recollection of it glowing this way before, he could not shake the feeling of dread that seemed to fill his body. He quickly covered the club and hurried towards the inn. Suddenly one of the guards from the gate gave a shout.
“UNDEAD!” he screamed.
Before Gidim could react the town’s gate shattered, with pieces of wood and iron flying everywhere. The force launched the guard several feet from his post and knocked Gidim to the ground. As he lifted his head, there stood the menacing skeleton of a forest troll. Several smaller creatures stood behind it, one that looked to be a recently dead orc. Gidim quickly arose with agility he didn’t know he possessed. Although he was not a fighter, he had been in enough situations to know how to handle himself. He quickly drew his favorite weapon, Ugalla, only to once again remember the evil blue glow emanating from it. The troll skeleton seemed to notice Gidim drawing his club and focused intently on Gidim. The club’s glow seemed to have a profound effect on all of the creatures, which only made Gidim more nervous. Rage was what is looked like. The troll skeleton opened his jaw and let out an unearthly roar.
Gidim, unsure of what to do, backed up as the group advanced.
Lost Souls - The Search for Magus
The Traveler’s Haven bustled with a fair number of patrons as the hour of Aerie’s evening magic show approached. Word spread quickly through the small town, and many of the people in the crowd were locals, relaxing with some entertainment and a good mug of ale after a hard day’s work.
“I hear the performer is an elven wench.”
“That’s right. And she’s said to be a beauty beyond compare. They say she made it through the gate with only a smile as her admittance.”
“Hah! The guards always did have a weakness for the young women, eh? Poor sods. Probably haven’t bedded a girl since they joined up!”
“Hey, I heard they arrested a goblin trying to sneak into town earlier today.”
“Really? They should’ve just run it through and been done with it.”
“I need some ale—Hic!”
“ALL RIGHT! QUIET DOWN YOU BUNCH OF BEER-SWILLING WRETCHES!” the barkeep yelled. “THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START!” She filled mugs at a steady rate as she tried to keep up with the demand. The place was so busy she’d had to hire out a couple of kids to supplement the usual waitress. The cook in the back was swamped, and it was all he could do to keep up with the steady stream of orders. The tavern suddenly grew quiet as a young lady stepped lightly into the clearing that passed for a makeshift stage in the middle of the room. Her white robes were simple but elegant, tracing the curves of her body in a way that was sensual yet restrained. Her hair flowed in golden-brown streams past her shoulders and down her back, while exotic braids framed her innocent face as she smiled cheerfully at the crowd.
“Welcome, people of Pedsgin,” she began, her voice like the music of children’s laughter. “Tonight you will experience wonders of magic which will shock and amaze, delight and enchant. But let me warn you,” she chided, shaking her finger playfully. “The magic you’ll see tonight is no mere sleight-of-hand. Leave now ye faint of heart, because in magic, one stray word can mean the difference between fire and ice…light and darkness…or even life and death.” She closed her eyes and muttered a word, and a glowing ball of dazzling multicolored light appeared in her hand. She smiled enigmatically, scanning the crowd, as if daring someone to leave. Then she hurled the magical ball into the air. Before everyone’s astonished eyes, the ball burst in mid-air. A bright flash, and then the room was blanketed by wisps of twinkling rainbow light. The crowd ooh’d and ah’d as the light slowly faded, then broke into eager applause.
“Thank you.” Aerie curtseyed gracefully. “For my next act, I’d like a volunteer. A brave soul who fears nothing in this world, for if even a shadow of fright lies within his heart, he will surely be consumed by terror.” The crowd murmured as several hands went up. “You sir, come over here,” Aerie beckoned as she cheerfully chose her victim. The stout young man walked over. “Might you tell us your name?”
“Private Jonathon Indsor of the town guard at your service, ma’am.” He bowed his head politely as he spoke. His knees were shaking almost imperceptibly.
Aerie laughed, the mellifluous sound rippling through the room. He reddened a bit. “Nice to meet you Jonathon. Tell me: do you fear anything in this world?”
“Ma’am, we put our life on the line every day of our lives. We don’t fear death, and we certainly don’t fear anything less.”
“So you say. Shall we put it to the test?”
Jonathon nodded. “Do your worst,” he said, proudly confident.
She closed her eyes, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she spoke. “Oh Fear, Conqueror of men’s hearts, Defiler of Souls, Bringer of Despair and Bane of all that is Wise and Virtuous…come forth and seize this man’s heart in your Embrace, and cloud Reason with Cowardice and Weakness. He fears not Death, but there are fears far more dark and insidious than Death or Oblivion. Let worst fears be realized, and walk the land given Life and Form!”
Black darkness descended on Jonathon and the surrounding area. When it dissipated, a humanoid creature with a head like a squid stood before him, the body of a man in its arms. Suddenly the tentacles sprang to life, drilling through the skull of its victim. Spongy brain leaked from the man’s skull, dripping onto the floor. As the audience watched, the tentacles sucked the brain from the man’s head like a straw, then let the body drop to the floor, soundlessly. It turned to Jonathon and slowly approached, its tentacles writhing in anticipation. Numb with terror, Jonathon stood frozen, his face deathly pale. His mouth moved, but no sound was heard.
“I think the good guard has had enough, don’t you agree?” A wave of her hand and a few muttered words, and the creature and its human victim vanished, replaced by a couple of furry bunnies. The crowd’s unease abruptly changed to astonishment. Aerie knelt down and scooped them up, then handed them to Jonathon, who was still in shock. They nestled lovingly against his chest. “See? I think they like you.” At her words, he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in. He looked at the bunnies, completely dumbfounded. “Go ahead and keep them. Think of it as compensation for the dreadful fright I gave you. No hard feelings, right?” Her voice was gently soothing.
“Of course not, ma’am.” He bowed nervously. “Pardon me, but I pity the man that ever angers you.” The crowd laughed, diffusing any remaining anxiety. He walked back to his seat and sat down, bunnies in hand.
“For my next act…”
And so it continued. Aerie’s show turned out to be a hit, and it continued longer than originally anticipated. Exhausted, she eventually had to politely excuse herself, much to the crowd’s chagrin. The tip bowl was filled to overflowing by the time Aerie climbed the stairs to her room for a rest, having cancelled the night show later on. She counted the money as she lied on her bed. There was enough there to live comfortably for a couple weeks…but nowhere near the amount she needed for the expensive magical reagents she required. She sighed. This kind of work was fun and all, but she needed a job that would bring in money quickly. Maybe she should travel to Boltswick? Of the two towns, Boltswick was supposed be somewhat larger and more developed. Perhaps she could find demand for her healing arts there?
A boom echoed nearby, shaking Aerie from her thoughts. What was that? She looked out the window. Was that the town gate?! Pieces of it littered the ground, and packs of creatures large and small began to pour through the breach in the town’s defenses. Aerie’s hand strayed to her holy symbol. She felt a familiar tingle. Undead. She rushed from her room, bolting down the stairs and out the door. The town was in a panic. The city guard tried to hold back the deathly invaders, but they were badly outnumbered and ill-equipped to handle some of the stronger undead that were pouring in. They would soon be overwhelmed.
Just then, something caught her eye. A figure in torn black robes stood in the hole where the town’s gate used to be, watching the battle rage before him. In its skeletal hand was a staff of blackest ebony…black as the heart of darkness itself, Aerie thought. Even from there, she could feel the immense evil emanating from the dark weapon, the negative energy brimming within it. The robed figure looked in her direction, and in its eyes were two glowing red orbs. A lich.
-Not just a lich.- Void appeared beside her, seemingly springing from the shadows themselves. –That lich is ancient. His magical aura is tremendous.-
"Do you think it's after..." Her sentence trailed off.
-Possibly.-
"We might have to fight it, then."
-Don't be a fool. The two of us wouldn’t stand a chance against such a foe. The best course would be to slip out while we still can...before we’re noticed.-
Aerie shook her head. “We can’t do that.” Especially if she was the one responsible. She couldn’t just run away.
-We walk a dangerous path already. We don't need unnecessary risks- Void reminded her.
"I won't turn my back on these people. We have to do something."
-Hmph. Morals...ideals...they only serve as fetters that keep us from our ultimate goal. Very well. I suggest we avoid a confrontation with the lich if we value our lives.-
Aerie glanced at Void in surprise. “Since when did you start being so agreeable?”
Void’s eyes dimmed disdainfully. –I tire of wasting away in this boring little backwater. A good fight will break the tedium...that is all.-
“Liar.” Nonetheless, she didn’t press him further. They had a lot of undead to kill and not a lot of time to do it.
“I hear the performer is an elven wench.”
“That’s right. And she’s said to be a beauty beyond compare. They say she made it through the gate with only a smile as her admittance.”
“Hah! The guards always did have a weakness for the young women, eh? Poor sods. Probably haven’t bedded a girl since they joined up!”
“Hey, I heard they arrested a goblin trying to sneak into town earlier today.”
“Really? They should’ve just run it through and been done with it.”
“I need some ale—Hic!”
“ALL RIGHT! QUIET DOWN YOU BUNCH OF BEER-SWILLING WRETCHES!” the barkeep yelled. “THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START!” She filled mugs at a steady rate as she tried to keep up with the demand. The place was so busy she’d had to hire out a couple of kids to supplement the usual waitress. The cook in the back was swamped, and it was all he could do to keep up with the steady stream of orders. The tavern suddenly grew quiet as a young lady stepped lightly into the clearing that passed for a makeshift stage in the middle of the room. Her white robes were simple but elegant, tracing the curves of her body in a way that was sensual yet restrained. Her hair flowed in golden-brown streams past her shoulders and down her back, while exotic braids framed her innocent face as she smiled cheerfully at the crowd.
“Welcome, people of Pedsgin,” she began, her voice like the music of children’s laughter. “Tonight you will experience wonders of magic which will shock and amaze, delight and enchant. But let me warn you,” she chided, shaking her finger playfully. “The magic you’ll see tonight is no mere sleight-of-hand. Leave now ye faint of heart, because in magic, one stray word can mean the difference between fire and ice…light and darkness…or even life and death.” She closed her eyes and muttered a word, and a glowing ball of dazzling multicolored light appeared in her hand. She smiled enigmatically, scanning the crowd, as if daring someone to leave. Then she hurled the magical ball into the air. Before everyone’s astonished eyes, the ball burst in mid-air. A bright flash, and then the room was blanketed by wisps of twinkling rainbow light. The crowd ooh’d and ah’d as the light slowly faded, then broke into eager applause.
“Thank you.” Aerie curtseyed gracefully. “For my next act, I’d like a volunteer. A brave soul who fears nothing in this world, for if even a shadow of fright lies within his heart, he will surely be consumed by terror.” The crowd murmured as several hands went up. “You sir, come over here,” Aerie beckoned as she cheerfully chose her victim. The stout young man walked over. “Might you tell us your name?”
“Private Jonathon Indsor of the town guard at your service, ma’am.” He bowed his head politely as he spoke. His knees were shaking almost imperceptibly.
Aerie laughed, the mellifluous sound rippling through the room. He reddened a bit. “Nice to meet you Jonathon. Tell me: do you fear anything in this world?”
“Ma’am, we put our life on the line every day of our lives. We don’t fear death, and we certainly don’t fear anything less.”
“So you say. Shall we put it to the test?”
Jonathon nodded. “Do your worst,” he said, proudly confident.
She closed her eyes, her hands moving in intricate patterns as she spoke. “Oh Fear, Conqueror of men’s hearts, Defiler of Souls, Bringer of Despair and Bane of all that is Wise and Virtuous…come forth and seize this man’s heart in your Embrace, and cloud Reason with Cowardice and Weakness. He fears not Death, but there are fears far more dark and insidious than Death or Oblivion. Let worst fears be realized, and walk the land given Life and Form!”
Black darkness descended on Jonathon and the surrounding area. When it dissipated, a humanoid creature with a head like a squid stood before him, the body of a man in its arms. Suddenly the tentacles sprang to life, drilling through the skull of its victim. Spongy brain leaked from the man’s skull, dripping onto the floor. As the audience watched, the tentacles sucked the brain from the man’s head like a straw, then let the body drop to the floor, soundlessly. It turned to Jonathon and slowly approached, its tentacles writhing in anticipation. Numb with terror, Jonathon stood frozen, his face deathly pale. His mouth moved, but no sound was heard.
“I think the good guard has had enough, don’t you agree?” A wave of her hand and a few muttered words, and the creature and its human victim vanished, replaced by a couple of furry bunnies. The crowd’s unease abruptly changed to astonishment. Aerie knelt down and scooped them up, then handed them to Jonathon, who was still in shock. They nestled lovingly against his chest. “See? I think they like you.” At her words, he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in. He looked at the bunnies, completely dumbfounded. “Go ahead and keep them. Think of it as compensation for the dreadful fright I gave you. No hard feelings, right?” Her voice was gently soothing.
“Of course not, ma’am.” He bowed nervously. “Pardon me, but I pity the man that ever angers you.” The crowd laughed, diffusing any remaining anxiety. He walked back to his seat and sat down, bunnies in hand.
“For my next act…”
And so it continued. Aerie’s show turned out to be a hit, and it continued longer than originally anticipated. Exhausted, she eventually had to politely excuse herself, much to the crowd’s chagrin. The tip bowl was filled to overflowing by the time Aerie climbed the stairs to her room for a rest, having cancelled the night show later on. She counted the money as she lied on her bed. There was enough there to live comfortably for a couple weeks…but nowhere near the amount she needed for the expensive magical reagents she required. She sighed. This kind of work was fun and all, but she needed a job that would bring in money quickly. Maybe she should travel to Boltswick? Of the two towns, Boltswick was supposed be somewhat larger and more developed. Perhaps she could find demand for her healing arts there?
A boom echoed nearby, shaking Aerie from her thoughts. What was that? She looked out the window. Was that the town gate?! Pieces of it littered the ground, and packs of creatures large and small began to pour through the breach in the town’s defenses. Aerie’s hand strayed to her holy symbol. She felt a familiar tingle. Undead. She rushed from her room, bolting down the stairs and out the door. The town was in a panic. The city guard tried to hold back the deathly invaders, but they were badly outnumbered and ill-equipped to handle some of the stronger undead that were pouring in. They would soon be overwhelmed.
Just then, something caught her eye. A figure in torn black robes stood in the hole where the town’s gate used to be, watching the battle rage before him. In its skeletal hand was a staff of blackest ebony…black as the heart of darkness itself, Aerie thought. Even from there, she could feel the immense evil emanating from the dark weapon, the negative energy brimming within it. The robed figure looked in her direction, and in its eyes were two glowing red orbs. A lich.
-Not just a lich.- Void appeared beside her, seemingly springing from the shadows themselves. –That lich is ancient. His magical aura is tremendous.-
"Do you think it's after..." Her sentence trailed off.
-Possibly.-
"We might have to fight it, then."
-Don't be a fool. The two of us wouldn’t stand a chance against such a foe. The best course would be to slip out while we still can...before we’re noticed.-
Aerie shook her head. “We can’t do that.” Especially if she was the one responsible. She couldn’t just run away.
-We walk a dangerous path already. We don't need unnecessary risks- Void reminded her.
"I won't turn my back on these people. We have to do something."
-Hmph. Morals...ideals...they only serve as fetters that keep us from our ultimate goal. Very well. I suggest we avoid a confrontation with the lich if we value our lives.-
Aerie glanced at Void in surprise. “Since when did you start being so agreeable?”
Void’s eyes dimmed disdainfully. –I tire of wasting away in this boring little backwater. A good fight will break the tedium...that is all.-
“Liar.” Nonetheless, she didn’t press him further. They had a lot of undead to kill and not a lot of time to do it.
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?
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Yolta grinned to himself as the guards left. “I suppose I got of lucky there.”
“Yes you did, what were you thinking, lying to the guards like that?”
“I know, I know.” He felt a headache coming on, the encounter with the hakeashar had taken much out of him. “I was tired and made an error of judgement, it won’t happen again.”
“It had better not…”
Yolta’s gloves felt strange, empty, and he took one of and examined it quickly.
It was as he feared, they had been sucked dry. There was hardly any magic left in them, the faint echo of magical residu was all that there was left of it’s former power.
The little hope he had left disappeared instantly as he examined his cane, it too had been depleted and in need of repair.
“Damn that filthy hakeashar, I’ll get it for this, I swear.”
“Not today you aren’t. First you need to rest, I’ll have your possessions fixed for you.” Japheth pitied the Order’s magical item department, they were the ones to turn to in such cases. Fixing the items would not be easy. Perhaps it would be easier to create new ones all together.
“Thank you my friend.”
“Yes, yes.” Japheth responded a bit irritated. “This could have all been averted if only…” He knew he didn’t have to continue.
Yolta responded with a slight nod.
“Now.” Japheth started. “Lets get you outside for a little fresh air before I take you home.”
Home... the sound of it had never sounded so sweet. “It would be nice to sleep in my own bed again. I’ve been on the road for to long now and have never been so tired in my life.”
They stepped outside, the fresh air did wonders for Yolta’s headache. He took a deep breath and look around him. Strange lights emitted from a building nearby, the local inn by the looks of it. Japheth followed his gaze and noticed the same.
“Hmph, must be a trickster performing. Hardly worth our time.”
Amused Yolta looked up at his friend, who answerd his gaze. “You’ll never learn will you?”
“I’m not the one being tossed in prison here… xvart.”
“Bah, stupid humans.” Yolta replied to his teasing.
“Now, let’s get you out of here.” Japheth rested his hand on his brooch, closed his eyes and concentrated. Within seconds and arch of pure magic appeared before him. “See how easy teleporting can be?”
“Just get me to bed would you?”
The two men stepped into the ring of magic and it disappeared with them. They couldn’t hear the explosion behind them and didn’t see the town gate splintering into pieces.
Unknowingly, they stepped into the hallways of the Arcane Order, miles away from the little town of Pedsgin.
“Yes you did, what were you thinking, lying to the guards like that?”
“I know, I know.” He felt a headache coming on, the encounter with the hakeashar had taken much out of him. “I was tired and made an error of judgement, it won’t happen again.”
“It had better not…”
Yolta’s gloves felt strange, empty, and he took one of and examined it quickly.
It was as he feared, they had been sucked dry. There was hardly any magic left in them, the faint echo of magical residu was all that there was left of it’s former power.
The little hope he had left disappeared instantly as he examined his cane, it too had been depleted and in need of repair.
“Damn that filthy hakeashar, I’ll get it for this, I swear.”
“Not today you aren’t. First you need to rest, I’ll have your possessions fixed for you.” Japheth pitied the Order’s magical item department, they were the ones to turn to in such cases. Fixing the items would not be easy. Perhaps it would be easier to create new ones all together.
“Thank you my friend.”
“Yes, yes.” Japheth responded a bit irritated. “This could have all been averted if only…” He knew he didn’t have to continue.
Yolta responded with a slight nod.
“Now.” Japheth started. “Lets get you outside for a little fresh air before I take you home.”
Home... the sound of it had never sounded so sweet. “It would be nice to sleep in my own bed again. I’ve been on the road for to long now and have never been so tired in my life.”
They stepped outside, the fresh air did wonders for Yolta’s headache. He took a deep breath and look around him. Strange lights emitted from a building nearby, the local inn by the looks of it. Japheth followed his gaze and noticed the same.
“Hmph, must be a trickster performing. Hardly worth our time.”
Amused Yolta looked up at his friend, who answerd his gaze. “You’ll never learn will you?”
“I’m not the one being tossed in prison here… xvart.”
“Bah, stupid humans.” Yolta replied to his teasing.
“Now, let’s get you out of here.” Japheth rested his hand on his brooch, closed his eyes and concentrated. Within seconds and arch of pure magic appeared before him. “See how easy teleporting can be?”
“Just get me to bed would you?”
The two men stepped into the ring of magic and it disappeared with them. They couldn’t hear the explosion behind them and didn’t see the town gate splintering into pieces.
Unknowingly, they stepped into the hallways of the Arcane Order, miles away from the little town of Pedsgin.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
Xandax had not done much for most of the day. He had been sitting in the tavern, thinking.
Much of it had been around this business with Magus disappearing. Foul magic had to be astray for Magus to vanish, and for Aerie and that …. creature … Void …. to be around. Xandax didn’t hold much regards for the creature or Magus link to it.
“Clear your mind. Shield your emotions, lest they can be used against you” He heard the fading voice his mother – or rather the memory of her. “Use your anger to strengthen your blows, but strike with a calm mind and calculated intent.”
It was years ago, and Xandax did never fully understand the valuable advice while his mother were alive, but did so in many battles afterwards. Xandax snapped out of his memories, they were but a shadow in his clouded and troubled mind. The end of his time drew closer by the day. He felt the aching in his body, the yearning for the fight, he felt like he was loosing control – he had to maintain control, always, otherwise he would succumb. He was in charge, not some shadowed figure hunting him, he reached instinctly for Ferox. The warmth felt reassuring.
Xandax led his thoughts back on to the matter at hand; it was more important; it was now. He knew he couldn’t alter the past, and the future has yet to happen – the only time is the present.
"Magic show" – Xandax almost laughed at the thought – "she would put on a magic show." He wondered if the people actually knew what she was capable of, if she even understood herself.
The day passed lazily, and the time for the show came. Xandax was almost eager to see, what she would conjure up. He smiled… briefly.
He enjoyed the show as much as he could, mostly because of the awe of the audience, how simple life could be, he imagined. The young man especially, such haughtiness, how he crumbled at the image of the ilithid, pure genius to conjure up that image. The public loved it.
Xandax watched as Aerie made her exit towards her room, he returned to his thoughts.
Suddenly a boom echoed from outside, Xandax reached for Ferox and his shield Curator. Ferox glowed eerily, anticipating. Xandax walked outside, forcing his way through the masses of people still gathered in the tavern.
”Undead.” Xandax almost sighed to himself, but these were not for him. He could sense it, they had another target, they were … Aerie. Xandax noticed a robed figure in the midst. The forefronts of the horde had cut through some guards and were coming towards Xandax, who were standing in the middle of the doorway.
They swung for Xandax, one blow where blocked another avoided, a third was deflected by his armour.
With a powerful swing Xandax cut through two at once, more where to come. He walked forward slow and steady, striking down to his left and right when possible, taking a few hits but he was able to block or parry most of the blows. The town guards would not be able to hold them, but neither would he on his own.
Xandax walked slowly forward anyways.
"To the death" he thought to himself.
Much of it had been around this business with Magus disappearing. Foul magic had to be astray for Magus to vanish, and for Aerie and that …. creature … Void …. to be around. Xandax didn’t hold much regards for the creature or Magus link to it.
“Clear your mind. Shield your emotions, lest they can be used against you” He heard the fading voice his mother – or rather the memory of her. “Use your anger to strengthen your blows, but strike with a calm mind and calculated intent.”
It was years ago, and Xandax did never fully understand the valuable advice while his mother were alive, but did so in many battles afterwards. Xandax snapped out of his memories, they were but a shadow in his clouded and troubled mind. The end of his time drew closer by the day. He felt the aching in his body, the yearning for the fight, he felt like he was loosing control – he had to maintain control, always, otherwise he would succumb. He was in charge, not some shadowed figure hunting him, he reached instinctly for Ferox. The warmth felt reassuring.
Xandax led his thoughts back on to the matter at hand; it was more important; it was now. He knew he couldn’t alter the past, and the future has yet to happen – the only time is the present.
"Magic show" – Xandax almost laughed at the thought – "she would put on a magic show." He wondered if the people actually knew what she was capable of, if she even understood herself.
The day passed lazily, and the time for the show came. Xandax was almost eager to see, what she would conjure up. He smiled… briefly.
He enjoyed the show as much as he could, mostly because of the awe of the audience, how simple life could be, he imagined. The young man especially, such haughtiness, how he crumbled at the image of the ilithid, pure genius to conjure up that image. The public loved it.
Xandax watched as Aerie made her exit towards her room, he returned to his thoughts.
Suddenly a boom echoed from outside, Xandax reached for Ferox and his shield Curator. Ferox glowed eerily, anticipating. Xandax walked outside, forcing his way through the masses of people still gathered in the tavern.
”Undead.” Xandax almost sighed to himself, but these were not for him. He could sense it, they had another target, they were … Aerie. Xandax noticed a robed figure in the midst. The forefronts of the horde had cut through some guards and were coming towards Xandax, who were standing in the middle of the doorway.
They swung for Xandax, one blow where blocked another avoided, a third was deflected by his armour.
With a powerful swing Xandax cut through two at once, more where to come. He walked forward slow and steady, striking down to his left and right when possible, taking a few hits but he was able to block or parry most of the blows. The town guards would not be able to hold them, but neither would he on his own.
Xandax walked slowly forward anyways.
"To the death" he thought to himself.
Insert signature here.
The odds were not in his favor. He could count maybe a dozen or so undead in his vicinity, advancing quite quickly. A glance to the side told him that he would have to fight; there was no escape for him. Gidim looked down to the simple wooden club in his hand. It seemed so simple, but it glowed with such a fury. He was enthralled in the club as the glow intensified. Only at the last second did he realize that the first of the skeletons had reached him, and with stunning agility blocked the creature’s blow. The force was enough to knock him to the ground, but it was the creature’s reaction that stunned Gidim more. After its hand had collided with his club the skeleton had recoiled as if hit by some powerful force. It stumbled back a few feet. His club glowed with a renewed fervor. One of the orc zombies swung its massive arms, trying to crush Gidim between them. Gidim quickly ducked and slid over to its side, simultaneously swinging his club into the zombie’s gut. It collided with a loud thud and the blue glow from his club started spreading over the zombie’s body. It lurched forward and collapsed next to him. Dazed by this, Gidim didn’t see the troll skeleton sweep across the ground and hit him squarely in the back.
Gidim lifted of the ground and was thrown several feet. His club had been knocked from his hands. He gasped for breath as he struggled to get up.
The commotion had aroused the people in the town. Several guards had rushed from their posts to join the fray, as had the armed man he had met in the tavern, Xandax. Gidim managed to roll onto his side only to gaze upon a troll skeleton barreling down at him. This was it; Gidim wouldn’t be able to move before the troll had crushed him.
‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you die, at least not yet.’
The words had rung through his head so quickly.
‘Now focus on the orc zombie!’
Gidim’s mind wandered to the zombie’s body laying only several feet from him. The blue glow had faded from it, but a strange feeling encompassed him as he gazed upon it.
‘Tell it to save you!’
Almost without thinking, his mind cried out to the zombie.
“What am I doing???” Gidim thought to himself, “Am I going mad, an orc zombie save me??”
To Gidim’s amazement, the zombie stirred. The troll skeleton had closed in fast and was preparing to make its final blow. As it raised its arm to smash Gidim into the ground, the orc zombie made a quick lunge at the troll’s legs. The sound of bone’s snapping accompanied the cry of a surprised troll skeleton crashing to the ground, barely missing Gidim.
‘Grab your club!’
Gidim scrambled away from the troll and orc wrestling on the ground. Although the orc had caught the troll by surprise, it was not going to win the struggle. His back still throbbed from the troll’s hit and he began to cough up some blood. Half stumbling, half crawling, Gidim made it to his club.
‘You know what to do know, finish this!’
Gidim turned back to the struggle, to see the orc zombie in the grasp of the troll. With sheer brute strength, the troll lifted the orc off the ground and launched it into the tavern. The orc collided with the side of the tavern and busted part of the wall, as it slumped lifeless to the ground.
The glow of his club empowered him. Although he was in pain, Gidim rose off the ground and prepared to charge into the battle. The troll was still hunched over; its crushed leg made it hard for it to move. When he was in reach, the troll thrust its hand at Gidim. With a quick sidestep, Gidim dodged the attack and got in close. His club connected with the trolls chin with a crunching sound. The troll lifted off the ground for a second as the blue glow engulfed it.
“Now fight!” Gidim commanded as the glow faded from the troll. Forgetting its previous loyalties, the troll crawled around catching a smaller skeleton in its grasp, throttling it till it stopped moving.
Another skeleton has gotten past the troll and charged recklessly at Gidim. The skeleton lunged at him only to meet with the end of his club. As quickly as it had rushed Gidim, he had sent it back into the fray. After several similar encounters, he had the beginnings of a small army at his command. His mind was focused entirely on the battle, directing each new undead creature that got with in the reach of his club.
One of his skeletons collided with a zombie, which was poised for a final blow on one of the guards. The man looked confused on what had just happened as he witnessed Gidim command another skeleton to battle. A mixture of confusion and fear crossed his face. This was the standard reaction of the townsfolk who noticed what Gidim was doing. Too preoccupied with the battle, Gidim didn’t notice the stares of the people around him.
Just as it seemed the tide was turning, Gidim noticed a figure standing in the space, where the gate used to stand. He immediately froze in his tracks. It stood there with a tattered black robe and piercing red eyes, gazing at the battle that had unfolded. A lich. A feeling of inescapable dread filled his body.
Gidim lifted of the ground and was thrown several feet. His club had been knocked from his hands. He gasped for breath as he struggled to get up.
The commotion had aroused the people in the town. Several guards had rushed from their posts to join the fray, as had the armed man he had met in the tavern, Xandax. Gidim managed to roll onto his side only to gaze upon a troll skeleton barreling down at him. This was it; Gidim wouldn’t be able to move before the troll had crushed him.
‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you die, at least not yet.’
The words had rung through his head so quickly.
‘Now focus on the orc zombie!’
Gidim’s mind wandered to the zombie’s body laying only several feet from him. The blue glow had faded from it, but a strange feeling encompassed him as he gazed upon it.
‘Tell it to save you!’
Almost without thinking, his mind cried out to the zombie.
“What am I doing???” Gidim thought to himself, “Am I going mad, an orc zombie save me??”
To Gidim’s amazement, the zombie stirred. The troll skeleton had closed in fast and was preparing to make its final blow. As it raised its arm to smash Gidim into the ground, the orc zombie made a quick lunge at the troll’s legs. The sound of bone’s snapping accompanied the cry of a surprised troll skeleton crashing to the ground, barely missing Gidim.
‘Grab your club!’
Gidim scrambled away from the troll and orc wrestling on the ground. Although the orc had caught the troll by surprise, it was not going to win the struggle. His back still throbbed from the troll’s hit and he began to cough up some blood. Half stumbling, half crawling, Gidim made it to his club.
‘You know what to do know, finish this!’
Gidim turned back to the struggle, to see the orc zombie in the grasp of the troll. With sheer brute strength, the troll lifted the orc off the ground and launched it into the tavern. The orc collided with the side of the tavern and busted part of the wall, as it slumped lifeless to the ground.
The glow of his club empowered him. Although he was in pain, Gidim rose off the ground and prepared to charge into the battle. The troll was still hunched over; its crushed leg made it hard for it to move. When he was in reach, the troll thrust its hand at Gidim. With a quick sidestep, Gidim dodged the attack and got in close. His club connected with the trolls chin with a crunching sound. The troll lifted off the ground for a second as the blue glow engulfed it.
“Now fight!” Gidim commanded as the glow faded from the troll. Forgetting its previous loyalties, the troll crawled around catching a smaller skeleton in its grasp, throttling it till it stopped moving.
Another skeleton has gotten past the troll and charged recklessly at Gidim. The skeleton lunged at him only to meet with the end of his club. As quickly as it had rushed Gidim, he had sent it back into the fray. After several similar encounters, he had the beginnings of a small army at his command. His mind was focused entirely on the battle, directing each new undead creature that got with in the reach of his club.
One of his skeletons collided with a zombie, which was poised for a final blow on one of the guards. The man looked confused on what had just happened as he witnessed Gidim command another skeleton to battle. A mixture of confusion and fear crossed his face. This was the standard reaction of the townsfolk who noticed what Gidim was doing. Too preoccupied with the battle, Gidim didn’t notice the stares of the people around him.
Just as it seemed the tide was turning, Gidim noticed a figure standing in the space, where the gate used to stand. He immediately froze in his tracks. It stood there with a tattered black robe and piercing red eyes, gazing at the battle that had unfolded. A lich. A feeling of inescapable dread filled his body.
Lost Souls - The Search for Magus
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Yolta woke up in his own bed in his own quarter at the Arcane Order’s main building, he could barely remember how he got there. Slowly memories of recent events came back to him. Orcs… Pedsgin… Ah yes, the prison, the hackashin!
A creepy feeling filled his mind, he sat up straight in his bed and he tried to control himself, trying not to think about it to much. The experience was horrible, especially with a clear mind to remember the exact detail; the powerlessness while all energy is being drained from every cell in your body, those red eyes… enough! Yolta forced the memories aside and stood up from his bed, the eerie feeling ebbed away slowly, for now.
What happened to inhabitants of Pedsgin? Surely a hackashin couldn’t have an interest in them, they didn’t have anything for it to consume. Had it come for him… and how did it know he was there?
Something wasn’t right…
-Ah, you are awake.- Japheth’s voice startled Yolta from his thoughts.
-Yes… yes, I’m up. How are my things?- Yolta came right down to the point.
-Your wand has been repaired, it didn’t sustain much structural damage as it stored much magical energy when it was drained. The gloves are another story though, they were drained of practically every bit of magic that was in them. Essentially they are normal gloves now, except for the little bit of magical residue that is left. They are in need of extensive repairs, it will take a while…-
-And Pedgin?-
-Its only been a half a day since we left, what could have changed?-
-I don’t know.- Yolta replied, but something isn’t right there; he felt it in every bone in his body.
He stood up and walked over to his mirror, Yolta saw himself standing in front of it, dressed in his sleeping outfit. He didn’t even realise he had changed into it.
He place his hand on the mirror, closed his eyes. “Pedsgin”
At first, nothing seemed to happen, Yolta stayed in this position. Suddenly colours appeared on the mirror, clearly not reflecting anything from the room. Shapes became clearly visible in the blur of colours and Yolta pulled his hand back.
A small town appeared, blurry at first, but after some seconds the town of Pedsgin was visible as if it was right there outside the window. All seemed quiet but this suddenly changed, a huge explosion splintered the front gate like it was made of glass.
All sorts of undead creatures came storming though the hole where the gate stood just a second ago.
The soldiers were being overrun and the town’s defence couldn’t hold up much longer, as far as he could estimate it. The window went black, but just as it did, a man in rags joined the battlefield; Yolta didn’t notice.
-Send my gloves to me as soon as they are done, I’m going back.-
He could feel Japheth’s amazement.
–You are in no condition to go back!-
Yolta ignored the comment.
-Oh, and if you can find one, send me a ring of suggestion too.-
He got dressed in his ordinary outfit and picked up his staff which was returned to his quarters after repairs were done. A few seconds later, he stepped onto his teleportation circle.
A creepy feeling filled his mind, he sat up straight in his bed and he tried to control himself, trying not to think about it to much. The experience was horrible, especially with a clear mind to remember the exact detail; the powerlessness while all energy is being drained from every cell in your body, those red eyes… enough! Yolta forced the memories aside and stood up from his bed, the eerie feeling ebbed away slowly, for now.
What happened to inhabitants of Pedsgin? Surely a hackashin couldn’t have an interest in them, they didn’t have anything for it to consume. Had it come for him… and how did it know he was there?
Something wasn’t right…
-Ah, you are awake.- Japheth’s voice startled Yolta from his thoughts.
-Yes… yes, I’m up. How are my things?- Yolta came right down to the point.
-Your wand has been repaired, it didn’t sustain much structural damage as it stored much magical energy when it was drained. The gloves are another story though, they were drained of practically every bit of magic that was in them. Essentially they are normal gloves now, except for the little bit of magical residue that is left. They are in need of extensive repairs, it will take a while…-
-And Pedgin?-
-Its only been a half a day since we left, what could have changed?-
-I don’t know.- Yolta replied, but something isn’t right there; he felt it in every bone in his body.
He stood up and walked over to his mirror, Yolta saw himself standing in front of it, dressed in his sleeping outfit. He didn’t even realise he had changed into it.
He place his hand on the mirror, closed his eyes. “Pedsgin”
At first, nothing seemed to happen, Yolta stayed in this position. Suddenly colours appeared on the mirror, clearly not reflecting anything from the room. Shapes became clearly visible in the blur of colours and Yolta pulled his hand back.
A small town appeared, blurry at first, but after some seconds the town of Pedsgin was visible as if it was right there outside the window. All seemed quiet but this suddenly changed, a huge explosion splintered the front gate like it was made of glass.
All sorts of undead creatures came storming though the hole where the gate stood just a second ago.
The soldiers were being overrun and the town’s defence couldn’t hold up much longer, as far as he could estimate it. The window went black, but just as it did, a man in rags joined the battlefield; Yolta didn’t notice.
-Send my gloves to me as soon as they are done, I’m going back.-
He could feel Japheth’s amazement.
–You are in no condition to go back!-
Yolta ignored the comment.
-Oh, and if you can find one, send me a ring of suggestion too.-
He got dressed in his ordinary outfit and picked up his staff which was returned to his quarters after repairs were done. A few seconds later, he stepped onto his teleportation circle.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
"The casualties?" asked a dry voice, devoid of emotion. A man stood facing a tapestry hanging low in the cavern, the image on depicting a time when magic had been lost to the world, and the Gods abandoned their followers. The Time of Troubles, as it had been named. He stood with his arms folded behind his back, barely acknowledging the cowled man in the room with him.
"Half our force." The Cowled man gritted his teeth as he spoke, kneeling behind his superior, his head bowed low. "We did not expect the elf to be a Blade Singer, nor did we expect the ex-assassin of Pasha Trium."
The standing man raised his chin at the news, but dismissed the mention of the Pasha. He had no love, or care for Trium, his relationship with the man stretching to that of a rival and enemy. He raised one hand, and ran a finger down the tapestry, letting it linger a moment on the part which showed the Gods taking the form of Avatars to survive. "No matter." The man spun on his heel to face the cowled man. "Stand." He motioned the man to his feet.
"We have had worse operations, no doubt." He regarding the cowled man for a moment. "Was it a worthwhile effort?" The man's voice hinted with the notion that a wrong answer could mean death for the cowled man.
After a moment, the Cowled Man nodded. "Indeed, sir. The four of them carried powerful, magical weapons. The Blade Singer particularly. A Scimitar and dagger." The man's superior nodded. "And we found this..." The Cowled man withdrew the Netherese stone from his pouch, holding it in the palm of his hand towards the other man.
It was taken lightly, and the man regarded it casually, as he had only moments ago looked upon the tapestry. After a couple seconds had passed, the rifts in the stone began to light up in a bright green, tracing lines and symbols along the surface of the artifact. A smile curlled onto the man's lips. "Indeed... This is worthwhile..." He palmed the stone, and turned to face the Cowled Man directly. "Well done, Adhan. Now. Take this stone, and the prisonners to our benefactor. I believe he is still in Luskan, preparing to travel to the Anauroch. He would be most interested in what you have found, and how they had come across such items."
"Their equipment, as well?" Adhan asked fervantly.
The other man stood silent for a moment, before issuing a small nod. "Yes. Those that we have here have little use for such weapons and equipment." The man turned towards a door to the side of the room, moving towards it slowly. As he did, he waved his head slightly. "Besides, I am sure they would be better suited for what our employer needs them..."
Adhan bowed his head as his superior left, before turning, and exiting the room himself. He would send the group to Luskan. He would send them when he was through his own business.
He made his way through the subterrainian tunnels, passing dimly lit torch brackets in the process, his thoughts driven on one thing, and leading him, eventually, to a solid wooden door, with two men standing gaurd. He nodded to both, before the unlocked the door, and allowed Adhan entry. Inside, there were a number of barred crevices, three of which contained prisoners. At the back of the room was another solid wooden door, Adhan's own chambers. He made his way to his room.
Upon entry, he turned to close the door behind, and turned the lock. "It would seem we are to send you to Luskan, after all..." He said quietly, almost to himself. He gave a light chuckle. "But, I was not told by what time. Which means, we have time to become acquinted..." He turned around, facing the bed where someone was bound, stripped of clothing, and secured tightly.
He moved towards the bed, and the prisonner. Ferchen struggled against her bondage, but did little more than rub her wrists and ankles raw. Adhan sat next to the exposed Ferchen, a sadistic smile imprinted on his lips...
"Half our force." The Cowled man gritted his teeth as he spoke, kneeling behind his superior, his head bowed low. "We did not expect the elf to be a Blade Singer, nor did we expect the ex-assassin of Pasha Trium."
The standing man raised his chin at the news, but dismissed the mention of the Pasha. He had no love, or care for Trium, his relationship with the man stretching to that of a rival and enemy. He raised one hand, and ran a finger down the tapestry, letting it linger a moment on the part which showed the Gods taking the form of Avatars to survive. "No matter." The man spun on his heel to face the cowled man. "Stand." He motioned the man to his feet.
"We have had worse operations, no doubt." He regarding the cowled man for a moment. "Was it a worthwhile effort?" The man's voice hinted with the notion that a wrong answer could mean death for the cowled man.
After a moment, the Cowled Man nodded. "Indeed, sir. The four of them carried powerful, magical weapons. The Blade Singer particularly. A Scimitar and dagger." The man's superior nodded. "And we found this..." The Cowled man withdrew the Netherese stone from his pouch, holding it in the palm of his hand towards the other man.
It was taken lightly, and the man regarded it casually, as he had only moments ago looked upon the tapestry. After a couple seconds had passed, the rifts in the stone began to light up in a bright green, tracing lines and symbols along the surface of the artifact. A smile curlled onto the man's lips. "Indeed... This is worthwhile..." He palmed the stone, and turned to face the Cowled Man directly. "Well done, Adhan. Now. Take this stone, and the prisonners to our benefactor. I believe he is still in Luskan, preparing to travel to the Anauroch. He would be most interested in what you have found, and how they had come across such items."
"Their equipment, as well?" Adhan asked fervantly.
The other man stood silent for a moment, before issuing a small nod. "Yes. Those that we have here have little use for such weapons and equipment." The man turned towards a door to the side of the room, moving towards it slowly. As he did, he waved his head slightly. "Besides, I am sure they would be better suited for what our employer needs them..."
Adhan bowed his head as his superior left, before turning, and exiting the room himself. He would send the group to Luskan. He would send them when he was through his own business.
He made his way through the subterrainian tunnels, passing dimly lit torch brackets in the process, his thoughts driven on one thing, and leading him, eventually, to a solid wooden door, with two men standing gaurd. He nodded to both, before the unlocked the door, and allowed Adhan entry. Inside, there were a number of barred crevices, three of which contained prisoners. At the back of the room was another solid wooden door, Adhan's own chambers. He made his way to his room.
Upon entry, he turned to close the door behind, and turned the lock. "It would seem we are to send you to Luskan, after all..." He said quietly, almost to himself. He gave a light chuckle. "But, I was not told by what time. Which means, we have time to become acquinted..." He turned around, facing the bed where someone was bound, stripped of clothing, and secured tightly.
He moved towards the bed, and the prisonner. Ferchen struggled against her bondage, but did little more than rub her wrists and ankles raw. Adhan sat next to the exposed Ferchen, a sadistic smile imprinted on his lips...
Virrilis stirred at the sound of the wooden bars rattling against the metal bindings securing the cage to the wagon. He openned his eyes, to be greeted by a thin layer of straw covering the rough wooden floor. As he moved his hands towards his chest, he heard the give away sound of metal dragging against the wooden floor. He angled his head slightly, looking towards his hands, and in turn, the iron shackles around them. He closed his eyes a moment, trying to concentrate on the last thing he could remember, but felt only a sharp pain shoot through his head. Gritting his teeth, he let out an exasperated sigh, and rolled his body over, so that he would face the ceiling of his cage. As the Blade Singer rolled, he felt something find it's way under the small of his back, that felt distinctly like someone's boot. With resigned effort, Virrilis lifted himself up, so that he was sitting up. Before him was Sethin, sitting cross legged, shackles binding his own hands as well, leaning against the wooden bars. Rail was next to Sethin, laying back, whether still unconscious from their captor's attack, or resting. He too wore a similar set of shackles, his magical, mailed hand still in place. They weren't the only ones within the cage. They were accompanied by two others. A halfling, and a Gnome, both of which seemed resigned to their captivity.
Virrilis looked our the sides of the cage, seeing only more desert, and they were surrounded by a large contingent of people, some armed, orthers walking along in chains, obviously slaves to their captors. Still the Calimin****e desert? That would be the most likely. He let out another resigned sigh, and shuffled backwards slightly, until he felt his back against the rough wooden bars. As he looked to the sky, the presence of someone suddenly struck him. Ferchen was missing! His head finally shot forward, and he looked from one side of the cage to the next, looking for some sign of the woman he loved. His paniced search was brought to end by a dry chuckle from his clone.
"They took her before we were even placed in the cage." Sethin didn't adjust his view to look at Virrilis, knowing full well the look of panic that would surely be seeping onto his face. Virrilis, though, glared at the clone, his temper on the verge of exploding, but his face maintaining a calm exterior. "And, as far as I know, we seem to have gone a fair distance from where we were attacked..."
Sethin angled his head, looking towards the convoy of men, wagons and slaves. "Something about the Anauroch, and looking for Netherese artifacts, I believe." Virrilis didn't take his eyes of Sethin. The clone was speaking so calmly, as if nothing mattered. As though the loss of Ferchen didn't concern him. As if reading his thoughts, Sethin turned to the Blade Singer. "I trust she is alright, so try not to burst anything in that condensed mind of yours, 'brother'." Sethin's lip curled into an amused sneer, as if mocking Virrilis, and their connection was a humour they shared.
After several moments of bitter silence, Virrilis let his head drop back, and his eyes close, his anger temporarly subsiding. "What of Rail? Has he awoken yet?" The Blade Singer didn't need to see Sethin, to understand the silence. Rail had awoken yet. Virrilis let out another resigned sigh.
Virrilis looked our the sides of the cage, seeing only more desert, and they were surrounded by a large contingent of people, some armed, orthers walking along in chains, obviously slaves to their captors. Still the Calimin****e desert? That would be the most likely. He let out another resigned sigh, and shuffled backwards slightly, until he felt his back against the rough wooden bars. As he looked to the sky, the presence of someone suddenly struck him. Ferchen was missing! His head finally shot forward, and he looked from one side of the cage to the next, looking for some sign of the woman he loved. His paniced search was brought to end by a dry chuckle from his clone.
"They took her before we were even placed in the cage." Sethin didn't adjust his view to look at Virrilis, knowing full well the look of panic that would surely be seeping onto his face. Virrilis, though, glared at the clone, his temper on the verge of exploding, but his face maintaining a calm exterior. "And, as far as I know, we seem to have gone a fair distance from where we were attacked..."
Sethin angled his head, looking towards the convoy of men, wagons and slaves. "Something about the Anauroch, and looking for Netherese artifacts, I believe." Virrilis didn't take his eyes of Sethin. The clone was speaking so calmly, as if nothing mattered. As though the loss of Ferchen didn't concern him. As if reading his thoughts, Sethin turned to the Blade Singer. "I trust she is alright, so try not to burst anything in that condensed mind of yours, 'brother'." Sethin's lip curled into an amused sneer, as if mocking Virrilis, and their connection was a humour they shared.
After several moments of bitter silence, Virrilis let his head drop back, and his eyes close, his anger temporarly subsiding. "What of Rail? Has he awoken yet?" The Blade Singer didn't need to see Sethin, to understand the silence. Rail had awoken yet. Virrilis let out another resigned sigh.
The Caravan stopped around mid-day, and the inhabitants of the wooden cage were released, the still comatose Rail being dragged out, and tossed to the side to be dealt with later. Virrilis grimmaced when he thought about how Rail had been taken to have left him in such a state. His thoughts were interupted as he felt the sharp prod of a sword to his back, and he relucatantly moved forward, his eyes scanning the location.
They were at a camp, with a large stone building in the centre. It centuries old, Virrilis new just by looking at it. Perhaps, in it's glory days, it was a marvel of archetecture, but now it was little more then crumbling ruins, about to fall in on itself. Surrounding the ruins, there were a number of small tents, some with darkly tanned men sitting inside, many appearing malnourished, others empty, with no more than a blanket thrown over the hot sand. In addition, dozens of armed men stalked around the encampment, all brandishing a sword, and whip, each one prodding many of the malnourished denizens to move about faster. Virrilis couldn't help but feel he would soon become one of those malnourished inhabitants.
He chanced a quick look to Sethin, who was walking a few strides to his left. The clone appeared stoic, much like what Virrilis was attempting to show to their captors, but he also saw Sethin's own scans of the area, obviously looking for a similar sign of weakness he could exploit. Their gaurds forced them along, Virrilis and Sethin had lost sight of Rail, but new that once awake, he would likely meet a similar fate as the two elves. They had also lost sight of the other two companions that shared the wooden cage with them, obviously taken elsewhere for other tasks.
After several lengthy minutes, the two guards stopped Virrilis and Sethin out front a large tent, in much better condition then the ones they witnessed the malnourished men to be in, obviously belonging to the leader of this encampment. One of the elves guards nodded to the manning protecting the entrance, and the sentry quickly went inside. Within moments, another man came out of the tent, bedecked in robes of fine material, gilded with golds and silvers, and well manicured facial hair. He looked to the two captives for a moment, then to the guards who had just brought them in.
"Was there not a third man?" the robed man questioned forcefully.
"He has been brought as well, but is currently comatose." replied the guard behind Sethin.
The robed man nodded, and stepped forward, examining the two elves, his brow quirking visibly. "My... It appears they look the same... Aside from some slight differences of clothing. A rare thing."Virrilis clenched his teeth at the comparison made between him and his clone, reviling the fact they shared anything at all. He remained staring forward, until the sight of the robed man walked into his view. "And this..." the robed man grabbed at Virrilis's toned arm, checking the defination and tightness. "They both seem to be in peak physical condition, as well. Strong, for elves, at least."
Sethin almost grinned at the assessment. One of the guards witnessed the slip. Within moments, the snap of a whip was heard, and Sethin felt a searing pain flash across his back, a thin crimson line soaking through the light material of his clothing. As if in unison, Virrilis gritted his teeth, as he felt the pain flow his body, staggering on his feet, almost falling to the ground. He let out a low gasp of pain, before clenching his jaw tighter. To his left, Sethin was doing the same. The robed man watched the two elves with interest, then, after a moment, nodded to the man behind Virrilis. Another loud snap was then heard, as the other whip cracked across Virrilis' back, another crimson line appearing under his clothing. Virrilis staggered forward again, his body lowering with the second attack. Sethin was trying to maintain his balance just as much, but was finding the same difficulty as his clone. After a moment, the whip cracked again, and a third line appeared across Virrilis, and Sethin's backs, and the two elves fell to their knees, both breathing heavily.
The Robed man finally held up his hand, motioning for the guards to stop. "Quite fascinating indeed. It would seem we have more than just twins." He smiled a large, toothy smile. "This, it seems, will only make it easier to control the two of you."
Neither Virrilis nor Sethin spoke, instead continuing to clench their jaws tightly in silent resolve, neither wishing to break in front of their captors, or each other.
"Well. We can't have both of them working the ruins together. No telling what might happen if we allow two peope with such a bond to be able to conspire together." He looked to the guard behind Virrilis, who promptly hoisted the tiny elf onto his feet, and pushed him forward. "This one, I will keep. To ensure that the other works more effciently. Tell me if there are any problems, and I shall deal with them both, most efficiently." A malicious smile crept across his lips, as the guard pushed Virrilis forward, and into the tent, followed shortly by the Robed man.
Sethin was left for a moment, before being jostled to his feet, and forced in the opposite direction, towards the ruins...
They were at a camp, with a large stone building in the centre. It centuries old, Virrilis new just by looking at it. Perhaps, in it's glory days, it was a marvel of archetecture, but now it was little more then crumbling ruins, about to fall in on itself. Surrounding the ruins, there were a number of small tents, some with darkly tanned men sitting inside, many appearing malnourished, others empty, with no more than a blanket thrown over the hot sand. In addition, dozens of armed men stalked around the encampment, all brandishing a sword, and whip, each one prodding many of the malnourished denizens to move about faster. Virrilis couldn't help but feel he would soon become one of those malnourished inhabitants.
He chanced a quick look to Sethin, who was walking a few strides to his left. The clone appeared stoic, much like what Virrilis was attempting to show to their captors, but he also saw Sethin's own scans of the area, obviously looking for a similar sign of weakness he could exploit. Their gaurds forced them along, Virrilis and Sethin had lost sight of Rail, but new that once awake, he would likely meet a similar fate as the two elves. They had also lost sight of the other two companions that shared the wooden cage with them, obviously taken elsewhere for other tasks.
After several lengthy minutes, the two guards stopped Virrilis and Sethin out front a large tent, in much better condition then the ones they witnessed the malnourished men to be in, obviously belonging to the leader of this encampment. One of the elves guards nodded to the manning protecting the entrance, and the sentry quickly went inside. Within moments, another man came out of the tent, bedecked in robes of fine material, gilded with golds and silvers, and well manicured facial hair. He looked to the two captives for a moment, then to the guards who had just brought them in.
"Was there not a third man?" the robed man questioned forcefully.
"He has been brought as well, but is currently comatose." replied the guard behind Sethin.
The robed man nodded, and stepped forward, examining the two elves, his brow quirking visibly. "My... It appears they look the same... Aside from some slight differences of clothing. A rare thing."Virrilis clenched his teeth at the comparison made between him and his clone, reviling the fact they shared anything at all. He remained staring forward, until the sight of the robed man walked into his view. "And this..." the robed man grabbed at Virrilis's toned arm, checking the defination and tightness. "They both seem to be in peak physical condition, as well. Strong, for elves, at least."
Sethin almost grinned at the assessment. One of the guards witnessed the slip. Within moments, the snap of a whip was heard, and Sethin felt a searing pain flash across his back, a thin crimson line soaking through the light material of his clothing. As if in unison, Virrilis gritted his teeth, as he felt the pain flow his body, staggering on his feet, almost falling to the ground. He let out a low gasp of pain, before clenching his jaw tighter. To his left, Sethin was doing the same. The robed man watched the two elves with interest, then, after a moment, nodded to the man behind Virrilis. Another loud snap was then heard, as the other whip cracked across Virrilis' back, another crimson line appearing under his clothing. Virrilis staggered forward again, his body lowering with the second attack. Sethin was trying to maintain his balance just as much, but was finding the same difficulty as his clone. After a moment, the whip cracked again, and a third line appeared across Virrilis, and Sethin's backs, and the two elves fell to their knees, both breathing heavily.
The Robed man finally held up his hand, motioning for the guards to stop. "Quite fascinating indeed. It would seem we have more than just twins." He smiled a large, toothy smile. "This, it seems, will only make it easier to control the two of you."
Neither Virrilis nor Sethin spoke, instead continuing to clench their jaws tightly in silent resolve, neither wishing to break in front of their captors, or each other.
"Well. We can't have both of them working the ruins together. No telling what might happen if we allow two peope with such a bond to be able to conspire together." He looked to the guard behind Virrilis, who promptly hoisted the tiny elf onto his feet, and pushed him forward. "This one, I will keep. To ensure that the other works more effciently. Tell me if there are any problems, and I shall deal with them both, most efficiently." A malicious smile crept across his lips, as the guard pushed Virrilis forward, and into the tent, followed shortly by the Robed man.
Sethin was left for a moment, before being jostled to his feet, and forced in the opposite direction, towards the ruins...
Two deep red eyes scanned the battle. The emotionless glare sent a shiver down Gidim’s spine.
’Ah! This is definitely interesting, looks like you’ll need more then a few skeletons to win this battle.’
Gidim’s head rung with the words. This was simply all too much. He was sure now that this wasn’t his conscience.
’Who are you?’ Gidim thought.
’A curious one are we?’ his head spun as the voice spoke ’’Who I am’ is not important, but know that I don’t mean to do you harm. Only to help you…..it wouldn’t be in my interest to let you die’
The words chilled Gidim, but for some reason he believed them to be sincere.
’Now let me help you win this.’
As quickly as the voice had finished, magical essence began to cover Gidim. His skin became tougher, his body seemed lighter, and a dim hue enveloped him. Though the magic had helped, the sensation of evil permeated the enchantments.
His confusion didn’t last long as another skeleton warrior had gotten in close while he was distracted. This one was wielding a rusty sword, which was raised over its head, preparing for a killing blow on Gidim. The sword came down swiftly giving Gidim little time to react. Brushing past his cheek and it connected with his left shoulder. Expecting to feel the sword sear through his body, he was surprised to see that the sword had only left a small nick. The skeleton stood there, confused for a second as it raised its sword for another blow. Gidim swung his club in a small arc connecting with the skeleton rib cage making it crumple to the ground. It slowly rose, obeying a new master, and turned around rushing back into battle.
Whether the magic had been a blessing or not, Gidim didn’t care. It was helping and he could use all the help he could get. As he commanded another skeleton to battle, he felt the glare of the lich. The magic had attracted the attention of the lich, obviously unhappy with having to repulse fellow undead. The lich stared directly at Gidim, once again filling Gidim with a great feeling of dread. Empowered with new strength, Gidim shook off the feeling. Raising his club to point at the lich, he gave an unconscious command to all the creatures under his control. They immediately turned and rushed the lich. Gidim gritted his teeth and squeezed his club under his knuckles turned white. Abruptly he burst from standing into a full out sprint, aiming directly at the lich.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
On the edge of the battle Aerie stood surveying the scene. A ragged looking figure caught her attention. The man she had met in the tavern before, Gidim, preoccupied with the battle raging around him. She let out a small gasp as she witnessed a skeleton who had attacked him suddenly turn around and charged one of its own kind. He was commandeering the animated corpses.
-Very intriguing. There is more to him then one would suspect. Nonetheless we should take caution with those who can control the dead.- Void said observing the man.
Aerie sighed and turned back to the battle. Who or what he was would have to be dealt with after the dead had been repulsed.
’Ah! This is definitely interesting, looks like you’ll need more then a few skeletons to win this battle.’
Gidim’s head rung with the words. This was simply all too much. He was sure now that this wasn’t his conscience.
’Who are you?’ Gidim thought.
’A curious one are we?’ his head spun as the voice spoke ’’Who I am’ is not important, but know that I don’t mean to do you harm. Only to help you…..it wouldn’t be in my interest to let you die’
The words chilled Gidim, but for some reason he believed them to be sincere.
’Now let me help you win this.’
As quickly as the voice had finished, magical essence began to cover Gidim. His skin became tougher, his body seemed lighter, and a dim hue enveloped him. Though the magic had helped, the sensation of evil permeated the enchantments.
His confusion didn’t last long as another skeleton warrior had gotten in close while he was distracted. This one was wielding a rusty sword, which was raised over its head, preparing for a killing blow on Gidim. The sword came down swiftly giving Gidim little time to react. Brushing past his cheek and it connected with his left shoulder. Expecting to feel the sword sear through his body, he was surprised to see that the sword had only left a small nick. The skeleton stood there, confused for a second as it raised its sword for another blow. Gidim swung his club in a small arc connecting with the skeleton rib cage making it crumple to the ground. It slowly rose, obeying a new master, and turned around rushing back into battle.
Whether the magic had been a blessing or not, Gidim didn’t care. It was helping and he could use all the help he could get. As he commanded another skeleton to battle, he felt the glare of the lich. The magic had attracted the attention of the lich, obviously unhappy with having to repulse fellow undead. The lich stared directly at Gidim, once again filling Gidim with a great feeling of dread. Empowered with new strength, Gidim shook off the feeling. Raising his club to point at the lich, he gave an unconscious command to all the creatures under his control. They immediately turned and rushed the lich. Gidim gritted his teeth and squeezed his club under his knuckles turned white. Abruptly he burst from standing into a full out sprint, aiming directly at the lich.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
On the edge of the battle Aerie stood surveying the scene. A ragged looking figure caught her attention. The man she had met in the tavern before, Gidim, preoccupied with the battle raging around him. She let out a small gasp as she witnessed a skeleton who had attacked him suddenly turn around and charged one of its own kind. He was commandeering the animated corpses.
-Very intriguing. There is more to him then one would suspect. Nonetheless we should take caution with those who can control the dead.- Void said observing the man.
Aerie sighed and turned back to the battle. Who or what he was would have to be dealt with after the dead had been repulsed.
Lost Souls - The Search for Magus
A large skeleton came slowly towards Xandax. He deftly avoided the large swing from the skeletons weapon, and quickly struck back with his shield breaking much of the ribcage of the massive beast. It fell to the ground.
Out of a corner of his eye, he noticed the ragged person that had been sitting with Aerie earlier in the inn. Xandax gave off a slight smile, but then he noticed … it apparently controlled undead around him. His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t give in to emotions” he thought to himself.
Xandax all but stopped in his track. He hated undead, and he had no fondness of those that controlled them either.
Xandax snapped out from his thoughts as another large skeleton swung its hammer down towards him, the powerful blow was blocked and sent Xandax down, sitting on the ground.
”Forget it, focus at the task at hand, focus.” He mumbled. Xandax swung Ferox and the cut removed the femur from the skeletons left leg, it fell down to the ground. Xandax crushed its head with a hard blow from his shield and stood back up.
His eyes narrowed as he a last time looked towards the ragged person, then he joined the fray once more.
"Focus at the task at hand".
Out of a corner of his eye, he noticed the ragged person that had been sitting with Aerie earlier in the inn. Xandax gave off a slight smile, but then he noticed … it apparently controlled undead around him. His eyes narrowed.
“Don’t give in to emotions” he thought to himself.
Xandax all but stopped in his track. He hated undead, and he had no fondness of those that controlled them either.
Xandax snapped out from his thoughts as another large skeleton swung its hammer down towards him, the powerful blow was blocked and sent Xandax down, sitting on the ground.
”Forget it, focus at the task at hand, focus.” He mumbled. Xandax swung Ferox and the cut removed the femur from the skeletons left leg, it fell down to the ground. Xandax crushed its head with a hard blow from his shield and stood back up.
His eyes narrowed as he a last time looked towards the ragged person, then he joined the fray once more.
"Focus at the task at hand".
Insert signature here.
Sethin's armed escort didn't lead him to work directly, allowing some reprieve from the trip in the wooden cage. Instead, they lead the clone to a large, make shift structure, hastily built. From within, the sounds of metal ringing against metal could be heard, the echoing sound carrying into the arid desert sun. Sethin said nothing, reluctantly being lead along by the sharp end of a blade, his jaw clenched tightly, enduring the still stinging pain left from the biting whips, and the marks that would likely be carried with him for the end of his days. He paid little attention as he was lead inside the building, giving little more than a passing glance to the other slaves they were in there.
The inside of the building, though, was much different then the rest of the camp. The leader, the Robed man who had taken Virrilis, obviously knew better then to completely subjugate the labour he was forcing upon the many capture people, letting some form of freedom, however harsh the conditions of the so called leisure. There were armed men everywhere, each adorned with a sharp blade, and cruel looking whip, and each bearing a scowl of contempt for the slaves, each one watching the slaves, eager for the moment they would let the whip taste one's back. Sethin cared little. He had seen worse in the dungeons of Pasha Trium, and he had done worse while in his service.
As the escort prodded Sethin along, deeper into the wooden building, the ringing of metal became louder. At first, Sethin believed it to be slaves fashioning weapons from the treasure found within the Netherese ruins, but later came to recognize the sound. It was the distinct sound of metal clashing in protest. Metal clashing in battle. Almost as soon as the recognition heard him, he began to hear the accompanying noise, what he had initially thought was the sound of the numerous guards and slaves within the building. The sound, though, was the sound of a crowd cheering. This building wasn't designed for the moch-freedom of the slaves, but for the leisure of the men enslaving them.
The armed escort lead Sethin around a corner, passing by a hall with a view of the inner courtyard of the building, which was little more than a pit dug into the sound, with a tall wall circling the pit, and two rusty, iron gates leading out of it. Within the pit where two men, slaves by the looks of the thin, but toned frames. Each man was wielding a fierce looking blade, each sporting heavy iron rings around both ankles and wrists, locked in combat. The sound of the metal was from the sound of these two gladiators battle for the enjoyment of the guards. Sethin gave an almost sadistic grin at the notion of it all. He knew that this is where he would be put to use in the camp. As a spectacle for the amusement of their captors. His captors were obviously told of the battle to capture him, and the others, and obviously would be of more use as amusement, then as workers. He let a small smirk slip onto his lips as his escort continued to prod him along, leading him to a small cell within the building…
The inside of the building, though, was much different then the rest of the camp. The leader, the Robed man who had taken Virrilis, obviously knew better then to completely subjugate the labour he was forcing upon the many capture people, letting some form of freedom, however harsh the conditions of the so called leisure. There were armed men everywhere, each adorned with a sharp blade, and cruel looking whip, and each bearing a scowl of contempt for the slaves, each one watching the slaves, eager for the moment they would let the whip taste one's back. Sethin cared little. He had seen worse in the dungeons of Pasha Trium, and he had done worse while in his service.
As the escort prodded Sethin along, deeper into the wooden building, the ringing of metal became louder. At first, Sethin believed it to be slaves fashioning weapons from the treasure found within the Netherese ruins, but later came to recognize the sound. It was the distinct sound of metal clashing in protest. Metal clashing in battle. Almost as soon as the recognition heard him, he began to hear the accompanying noise, what he had initially thought was the sound of the numerous guards and slaves within the building. The sound, though, was the sound of a crowd cheering. This building wasn't designed for the moch-freedom of the slaves, but for the leisure of the men enslaving them.
The armed escort lead Sethin around a corner, passing by a hall with a view of the inner courtyard of the building, which was little more than a pit dug into the sound, with a tall wall circling the pit, and two rusty, iron gates leading out of it. Within the pit where two men, slaves by the looks of the thin, but toned frames. Each man was wielding a fierce looking blade, each sporting heavy iron rings around both ankles and wrists, locked in combat. The sound of the metal was from the sound of these two gladiators battle for the enjoyment of the guards. Sethin gave an almost sadistic grin at the notion of it all. He knew that this is where he would be put to use in the camp. As a spectacle for the amusement of their captors. His captors were obviously told of the battle to capture him, and the others, and obviously would be of more use as amusement, then as workers. He let a small smirk slip onto his lips as his escort continued to prod him along, leading him to a small cell within the building…
Aerie’s silver mace flashed as it struck a skeleton, leaving only a pile of dust where the creature had been standing. Though dozens of similar piles littered the area around her, she was surrounded. The undead closed in.
Aerie closed her eyes and began chanting, gripping the holy symbol around her neck. She finished as a ghoul charged in, its claws raking the air. A pale white glow suffused her, and the ghoul stopped short, staggering back. She took a step forward, and the undead around her took a step back.
“Return to your eternal rest.” The holy symbol flashed, and the surrounding undead fell lifeless to the ground. The immediate danger gone, she scanned the area for Void. She spotted him a little ways off, wrapped around a large armored skeleton. Its energy fading, the creature lurched and fell, shattering to pieces on impact. Void shot towards his next victim, a zombie. An appendage like a hand took shape from the shadowy mists that composed him. He plunged this into the zombie’s chest, materializing it inside. With a sick burbling the zombie’s chest exploded. More undead began to close around him. Aerie couldn’t help marveling as claws raked harmlessly through his misty form. Such lowly creatures couldn’t harm him even if stood still. Void didn’t seem to tire in the slightest as enemy after enemy fell before him. If anything, he grew stronger. The undead were animated by magic, and Void absorbed their energy as they met their end. Almost like a vampire, she thought.
-Don’t you have something better to do, elf?- He dodged aside as a specter reached for him. His eyes shone with a ruby light, and a bolt of electricity surged forth and slammed into the specter and everything behind it.
“No need to get touchy,” she muttered. She spotted some zombies busting through the doorway of a nearby house. Frightened screams came from within. Children’s screams. She couldn’t turn the zombies from this distance, and attack magic would endanger those within. Holy symbol in hand, she chanted in the language of the divine, and abruptly the undead froze in place. She walked quickly to the doorway, taking a piece of what looked like chalk from a pouch at her side. She drew a circle about the doorway, encompassing the motionless zombies, then waved her hand over it and muttered a command word. The circle flared bright blue, and the zombies disappeared in a brilliant flash. The circled remained, its glow strong and unyielding. Aerie turned to the two children in the corner, huddled about their relieved mother. “That circle should keep any undead from getting in here. Just stay inside and you should be fine,” she said reassuringly. Though the circle only protected the doorway, the windows in these houses were small, and mindless lesser undead lacked the ingenuity to use such routes.
“Thank you, kind lady. I wish we could repay you somehow…” the mother began.
Aerie shook her head. “Your gratitude is payment enough.” She turned and disappeared through the doorway.
Aerie glanced around. The battle wasn’t going well. There was just too many undead. The guards fought valiantly, but were losing ground quickly before the undead tide. A quarter of their rank laid dead, many of them victims of wraiths, which their blades, no matter how finely crafted, could not harm. At this rate…
“Lady Aerie!”
She saw a guard running towards her. “Mr. Indsor?”
“Aye…milady.” He panted, out of breath. “I told the Captain about you. He wishes to speak with you.” The private gasped, holding his arm. “Please milady…you’re our only hope.”
She sighed. As much as she wanted to help…
The private must have noticed her indecision. “Milady, if it’s money you need, you won’t be disappointed. When the Captain sees your power, he won’t spare any expense. You’ll see. Just come with me, please. I beg of you.” He dropped to his knees before her.
She flushed, embarrassed. “Please, that’s not necessary.” Private Indsor slowly rose and looked at her, desperation in his eyes.
-Hapless dimwit. For all he knows you’re just a sleight-of-hand artist.-
-He is a little naïve, isn’t he?- She looked at him pityingly and sighed again. What if she was responsible for this attack? Could she really take their money? Could she even look the townspeople in the eye?
-We play a dangerous game here, elf. It would be best not to draw attention to ourselves. But you need the money to do your scryings, correct? That would bring us one step closer to Magus…if we don’t die first.-
“I know,” she whispered. She eyed Private Indsor, gazing at her pleadingly. She bit her lip, coming to a decision. “Fine. Take me to your Captain. I’ll see what I can do.”
His eyes lighted up. “Yes, milady!” He hurried off, Aerie close behind.
Aerie closed her eyes and began chanting, gripping the holy symbol around her neck. She finished as a ghoul charged in, its claws raking the air. A pale white glow suffused her, and the ghoul stopped short, staggering back. She took a step forward, and the undead around her took a step back.
“Return to your eternal rest.” The holy symbol flashed, and the surrounding undead fell lifeless to the ground. The immediate danger gone, she scanned the area for Void. She spotted him a little ways off, wrapped around a large armored skeleton. Its energy fading, the creature lurched and fell, shattering to pieces on impact. Void shot towards his next victim, a zombie. An appendage like a hand took shape from the shadowy mists that composed him. He plunged this into the zombie’s chest, materializing it inside. With a sick burbling the zombie’s chest exploded. More undead began to close around him. Aerie couldn’t help marveling as claws raked harmlessly through his misty form. Such lowly creatures couldn’t harm him even if stood still. Void didn’t seem to tire in the slightest as enemy after enemy fell before him. If anything, he grew stronger. The undead were animated by magic, and Void absorbed their energy as they met their end. Almost like a vampire, she thought.
-Don’t you have something better to do, elf?- He dodged aside as a specter reached for him. His eyes shone with a ruby light, and a bolt of electricity surged forth and slammed into the specter and everything behind it.
“No need to get touchy,” she muttered. She spotted some zombies busting through the doorway of a nearby house. Frightened screams came from within. Children’s screams. She couldn’t turn the zombies from this distance, and attack magic would endanger those within. Holy symbol in hand, she chanted in the language of the divine, and abruptly the undead froze in place. She walked quickly to the doorway, taking a piece of what looked like chalk from a pouch at her side. She drew a circle about the doorway, encompassing the motionless zombies, then waved her hand over it and muttered a command word. The circle flared bright blue, and the zombies disappeared in a brilliant flash. The circled remained, its glow strong and unyielding. Aerie turned to the two children in the corner, huddled about their relieved mother. “That circle should keep any undead from getting in here. Just stay inside and you should be fine,” she said reassuringly. Though the circle only protected the doorway, the windows in these houses were small, and mindless lesser undead lacked the ingenuity to use such routes.
“Thank you, kind lady. I wish we could repay you somehow…” the mother began.
Aerie shook her head. “Your gratitude is payment enough.” She turned and disappeared through the doorway.
Aerie glanced around. The battle wasn’t going well. There was just too many undead. The guards fought valiantly, but were losing ground quickly before the undead tide. A quarter of their rank laid dead, many of them victims of wraiths, which their blades, no matter how finely crafted, could not harm. At this rate…
“Lady Aerie!”
She saw a guard running towards her. “Mr. Indsor?”
“Aye…milady.” He panted, out of breath. “I told the Captain about you. He wishes to speak with you.” The private gasped, holding his arm. “Please milady…you’re our only hope.”
She sighed. As much as she wanted to help…
The private must have noticed her indecision. “Milady, if it’s money you need, you won’t be disappointed. When the Captain sees your power, he won’t spare any expense. You’ll see. Just come with me, please. I beg of you.” He dropped to his knees before her.
She flushed, embarrassed. “Please, that’s not necessary.” Private Indsor slowly rose and looked at her, desperation in his eyes.
-Hapless dimwit. For all he knows you’re just a sleight-of-hand artist.-
-He is a little naïve, isn’t he?- She looked at him pityingly and sighed again. What if she was responsible for this attack? Could she really take their money? Could she even look the townspeople in the eye?
-We play a dangerous game here, elf. It would be best not to draw attention to ourselves. But you need the money to do your scryings, correct? That would bring us one step closer to Magus…if we don’t die first.-
“I know,” she whispered. She eyed Private Indsor, gazing at her pleadingly. She bit her lip, coming to a decision. “Fine. Take me to your Captain. I’ll see what I can do.”
His eyes lighted up. “Yes, milady!” He hurried off, Aerie close behind.
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?
As Aerie followed the private, she began to realize just how dire the situation had grown. True, undead creatures despised life, and they acted with a singular will to erase it wherever they went. Yet these undead were different. Destruction followed in the wake of the undead horde as they smashed everything they could get their hands on. They burst into homes, murdered the inhabitants, and proceeded to ransack them until nothing was left. Almost like…
-…they were searching for something.-
Cold dread seized her heart. Yes, there was no mistaking it now. They were after her.[/i[
What should she do? If she fled the town, maybe they would follow her and leave the city alone…
-Doubtful. If they knew their target so well, why would they be searching homes? They would have gone straight for you.-
…Void was right. What should she do? At this rate…the town wouldn’t just be overrun. It would be completely obliterated. Hundreds, thousands of people…either killed outright or left to slowly wither away, their livelihood extinguished in one fell swoop. So many people…and it would all be on her hands. Their blood would be on her hands.
She shuddered. No, she couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t.
As she neared the area where the guard had regrouped, she spotted small groups of undead fighting against the rest of the horde. She looked at the spectacle in confusion, surveying the assembled guard. She didn’t see any dressed in the garb of necromancers among them, much less clerics of evil or even neutral deities. She saw a few priests of Ilmater from the local temple tending the wounded, as well as a couple initiates of Sune, though they were likely travelers themselves. But if they weren’t controlling the undead…then who was?
“It’s him.” She followed the pointing finger to a ragged-looking figure about 100m away. Was that…Gidim?
“The guard repelled him from the gate shortly after you came through, thinking him a beggar. Likely he got through during the commotion we had with an xvart near dawn. Myself, I’m not sure what to think, but we need all the help we can get if we’re going to turn this battle.”
“Yes, I believe we’ve met,” Aerie replied softly. Just who was he? Any self-respecting cleric let his holy symbol hang visible for all to see. Was he a necromancer, then? How could such a thing have escaped her notice?
-Forget the beggar. We have more pressing matters to attend to.-
“Right…” She turned to face the voice from before. An important-looking man with a red sash over polished splint mail stood before her. A few scrapes marred its otherwise perfect surface, but the man seemed unharmed. An expensive-looking long sword hung at the ready at his side, and the top of a medium shield peeked out from behind his back.
“Lady Aerie, I take it?” The man bowed his head politely.
“Yes. You must be the Captain. You wish my help, then?”
“Straight to the point. Good. Yes. A few of my men seem to hold your abilities in high regards. Are you truly proficient in both the arcane and divine schools, as I hear you’ve boasted?”
A nearby shout interrupted her. “Captain! They come!”
The Captain turned sharply. “Swordsman and Mace-wielders to the front! Pikeman to the sides! Draw them in and let them have it from all sides! Crossbowmen fire at the fleshed ones and ignore the skeletons!”
“Aye!” the sergeants replied in unison, then began shouting orders to the various units.
The Captain turned back to Aerie. “Well?”
“I don’t boast, Captain. I’ll do what I can.”
“I see. Good.”
“GHOSTS!” yelled a terrified voice.
“Damn it!” The captain began to draw his sword. A hand on his arm stopped him.
“Leave it to me.” She walked forward. “All that are able, please gather about me!” She began to chant.
Something in her voice, perhaps the combination of determination and hope, commanded their attention, and the men began moving towards her, like moths to a flame. The sergeants looked at the Captain questioningly. He nodded, and the sergeants spurred the men onward. Suddenly, a soft white light spread from Aerie, enveloping their weapons. The polished blades began to shine dimly. The men looked at them in astonishment.
The Captain recognized the enchantment. “Don’t just stand there! Show the ghosts your enchanted steel!”
The men turned and charged the ghosts, quickly dispatching them. They looked at Aerie in wonder.
“Yes, yes…very good.” The Captain was impressed. With enchanted blades, they actually had a chance now. “How long does it last?”
“A few hours, at best.” Aerie shook her head. “It’ll give them a fighting chance, at least. But we must do better if this town is to be saved.”
The lady’s determination was contagious, Captain Ulbricht thought. He felt new life pulse through his tired arms. This battle wasn’t over yet. Pedsgin would be saved.
“Lady Aerie, that black-robed figure standing near the gates…that’s a lich, correct?” She nodded faintly. “I bet if we get him, the entire horde will lose its focus. It would be in complete disarray, and we could isolate small pockets and neutralize them one by one.”
Aerie shook her head. “Actually, I’m fairly sure they’d crumble almost immediately.” The captain looked at her incredulously. She bowed her head, concentrating. “You see that staff he’s holding? I can feel…it’s darkness. It reaches out, flowing through the bodies of the undead, an endless reservoir of vile blackness. The darkness gives them their unlife. Cut the flow, and the lifeless husks will return to their rest…I think.” She seemed surprised by her own revelation.
“Then it’s settled. We dispatch the lich and end this!”
“No, you don’t understand.” Aerie looked at him and shook her head again. “A lich, any lich, commands great magic. All it would take is a single fireball, in the middle of your ranks. It would be a slaughter.”
“Crossbowmen, then. We’ll take it out from afar. You can enchant the arrows, correct?”
“I doubt it would work. Even I can summon protections that would negate such an attack.”
He looked at her in astonishment. Surely she jested. He could believe a lich capable of such a thing…but she herself? “I see.” No use arguing with her, even if he did think she overestimated her already substantial abilities. “Nonetheless, it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?”
She shook her head in wonderment. “Captain, do you realize what you’re saying? If we attack and fail…and that lich thinks we’re a threat…”
“Splat?” he replied humorlessly.
“Something like that.” She sighed. “I can handle myself, but I can’t protect everyone here. Besides…I…have a feeling this is no ordinary lich. It’s more powerful. Much more powerful.”
“A feeling?”
“Yes.” She knew it wasn’t wise to reveal Void’s presence. It would only complicate matters.
“Then what do you suppose we should do, milady?!” The captain’s voice was sharp, even to his own ears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Every minute we stand here the undead slip around us and ravage more of the city. We can’t just stand here. We have to do something. In my years, I’ve had friends like you, Lady Aerie. Wise men, intelligent men, and I respected them. But I am a man of action. I won’t stand here while the city I’ve vowed to protect crumbles beneath the cold heels of an army of undead!” He shook his head and looked away, already regretting his outburst. He was Captain. In the end, it was up to him to call the shots. Through thick and thin, he was the one that had to make the choices, difficult though they might be. He had to do what he thought was best. Advice was good, but in the end, his choices would determine whether this battle was won or lost. The time of reckoning was at hand.
“I know Captain…I know.” For a moment, her calm, composed exterior seemed to crack, revealing a lost young girl, suffering quietly under some great burden that only she could feel.
Damn, he thought. There went his ace in the hole. But…he supposed that was what made men soldiers, protectors of the weak, and what made women and children those that the soldiers protected. It was simply the natural order of things.
But as quickly as the crack surfaced, it disappeared, and Aerie was her old self once more. She sighed thoughtfully. “Give me a moment to think about this, before you do something rash…alright?”
“Very well.” The Captain nodded, wondering now if the lapse had been his imagination. He was about to turn his attention to strengthening their lines when he felt a change in the rhythm of the battle. Something wasn’t right…an unnatural pause in the fighting. He peered out at the undead “rebels” surrounding the strange beggar. The beggar was pointing his club at the lich, and without warning the undead following him broke into a charge, hurtling towards the lich in some sort of macabre stampede. He watched in amazement as the undead in the pack’s way toppled beneath the sheer ferocity of the assault.
“Lady Aerie, the time to attack is now!” He turned to order the advance.
“No…wait.”
Her soft voice stopped him short. “What?”
She slowly shook her head. “This can’t end well. Watch.”
The grim certainty in her expression must have convinced him, as he reluctantly complied. His excitement would soon turn to horror.
-…they were searching for something.-
Cold dread seized her heart. Yes, there was no mistaking it now. They were after her.[/i[
What should she do? If she fled the town, maybe they would follow her and leave the city alone…
-Doubtful. If they knew their target so well, why would they be searching homes? They would have gone straight for you.-
…Void was right. What should she do? At this rate…the town wouldn’t just be overrun. It would be completely obliterated. Hundreds, thousands of people…either killed outright or left to slowly wither away, their livelihood extinguished in one fell swoop. So many people…and it would all be on her hands. Their blood would be on her hands.
She shuddered. No, she couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t.
As she neared the area where the guard had regrouped, she spotted small groups of undead fighting against the rest of the horde. She looked at the spectacle in confusion, surveying the assembled guard. She didn’t see any dressed in the garb of necromancers among them, much less clerics of evil or even neutral deities. She saw a few priests of Ilmater from the local temple tending the wounded, as well as a couple initiates of Sune, though they were likely travelers themselves. But if they weren’t controlling the undead…then who was?
“It’s him.” She followed the pointing finger to a ragged-looking figure about 100m away. Was that…Gidim?
“The guard repelled him from the gate shortly after you came through, thinking him a beggar. Likely he got through during the commotion we had with an xvart near dawn. Myself, I’m not sure what to think, but we need all the help we can get if we’re going to turn this battle.”
“Yes, I believe we’ve met,” Aerie replied softly. Just who was he? Any self-respecting cleric let his holy symbol hang visible for all to see. Was he a necromancer, then? How could such a thing have escaped her notice?
-Forget the beggar. We have more pressing matters to attend to.-
“Right…” She turned to face the voice from before. An important-looking man with a red sash over polished splint mail stood before her. A few scrapes marred its otherwise perfect surface, but the man seemed unharmed. An expensive-looking long sword hung at the ready at his side, and the top of a medium shield peeked out from behind his back.
“Lady Aerie, I take it?” The man bowed his head politely.
“Yes. You must be the Captain. You wish my help, then?”
“Straight to the point. Good. Yes. A few of my men seem to hold your abilities in high regards. Are you truly proficient in both the arcane and divine schools, as I hear you’ve boasted?”
A nearby shout interrupted her. “Captain! They come!”
The Captain turned sharply. “Swordsman and Mace-wielders to the front! Pikeman to the sides! Draw them in and let them have it from all sides! Crossbowmen fire at the fleshed ones and ignore the skeletons!”
“Aye!” the sergeants replied in unison, then began shouting orders to the various units.
The Captain turned back to Aerie. “Well?”
“I don’t boast, Captain. I’ll do what I can.”
“I see. Good.”
“GHOSTS!” yelled a terrified voice.
“Damn it!” The captain began to draw his sword. A hand on his arm stopped him.
“Leave it to me.” She walked forward. “All that are able, please gather about me!” She began to chant.
Something in her voice, perhaps the combination of determination and hope, commanded their attention, and the men began moving towards her, like moths to a flame. The sergeants looked at the Captain questioningly. He nodded, and the sergeants spurred the men onward. Suddenly, a soft white light spread from Aerie, enveloping their weapons. The polished blades began to shine dimly. The men looked at them in astonishment.
The Captain recognized the enchantment. “Don’t just stand there! Show the ghosts your enchanted steel!”
The men turned and charged the ghosts, quickly dispatching them. They looked at Aerie in wonder.
“Yes, yes…very good.” The Captain was impressed. With enchanted blades, they actually had a chance now. “How long does it last?”
“A few hours, at best.” Aerie shook her head. “It’ll give them a fighting chance, at least. But we must do better if this town is to be saved.”
The lady’s determination was contagious, Captain Ulbricht thought. He felt new life pulse through his tired arms. This battle wasn’t over yet. Pedsgin would be saved.
“Lady Aerie, that black-robed figure standing near the gates…that’s a lich, correct?” She nodded faintly. “I bet if we get him, the entire horde will lose its focus. It would be in complete disarray, and we could isolate small pockets and neutralize them one by one.”
Aerie shook her head. “Actually, I’m fairly sure they’d crumble almost immediately.” The captain looked at her incredulously. She bowed her head, concentrating. “You see that staff he’s holding? I can feel…it’s darkness. It reaches out, flowing through the bodies of the undead, an endless reservoir of vile blackness. The darkness gives them their unlife. Cut the flow, and the lifeless husks will return to their rest…I think.” She seemed surprised by her own revelation.
“Then it’s settled. We dispatch the lich and end this!”
“No, you don’t understand.” Aerie looked at him and shook her head again. “A lich, any lich, commands great magic. All it would take is a single fireball, in the middle of your ranks. It would be a slaughter.”
“Crossbowmen, then. We’ll take it out from afar. You can enchant the arrows, correct?”
“I doubt it would work. Even I can summon protections that would negate such an attack.”
He looked at her in astonishment. Surely she jested. He could believe a lich capable of such a thing…but she herself? “I see.” No use arguing with her, even if he did think she overestimated her already substantial abilities. “Nonetheless, it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it?”
She shook her head in wonderment. “Captain, do you realize what you’re saying? If we attack and fail…and that lich thinks we’re a threat…”
“Splat?” he replied humorlessly.
“Something like that.” She sighed. “I can handle myself, but I can’t protect everyone here. Besides…I…have a feeling this is no ordinary lich. It’s more powerful. Much more powerful.”
“A feeling?”
“Yes.” She knew it wasn’t wise to reveal Void’s presence. It would only complicate matters.
“Then what do you suppose we should do, milady?!” The captain’s voice was sharp, even to his own ears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Every minute we stand here the undead slip around us and ravage more of the city. We can’t just stand here. We have to do something. In my years, I’ve had friends like you, Lady Aerie. Wise men, intelligent men, and I respected them. But I am a man of action. I won’t stand here while the city I’ve vowed to protect crumbles beneath the cold heels of an army of undead!” He shook his head and looked away, already regretting his outburst. He was Captain. In the end, it was up to him to call the shots. Through thick and thin, he was the one that had to make the choices, difficult though they might be. He had to do what he thought was best. Advice was good, but in the end, his choices would determine whether this battle was won or lost. The time of reckoning was at hand.
“I know Captain…I know.” For a moment, her calm, composed exterior seemed to crack, revealing a lost young girl, suffering quietly under some great burden that only she could feel.
Damn, he thought. There went his ace in the hole. But…he supposed that was what made men soldiers, protectors of the weak, and what made women and children those that the soldiers protected. It was simply the natural order of things.
But as quickly as the crack surfaced, it disappeared, and Aerie was her old self once more. She sighed thoughtfully. “Give me a moment to think about this, before you do something rash…alright?”
“Very well.” The Captain nodded, wondering now if the lapse had been his imagination. He was about to turn his attention to strengthening their lines when he felt a change in the rhythm of the battle. Something wasn’t right…an unnatural pause in the fighting. He peered out at the undead “rebels” surrounding the strange beggar. The beggar was pointing his club at the lich, and without warning the undead following him broke into a charge, hurtling towards the lich in some sort of macabre stampede. He watched in amazement as the undead in the pack’s way toppled beneath the sheer ferocity of the assault.
“Lady Aerie, the time to attack is now!” He turned to order the advance.
“No…wait.”
Her soft voice stopped him short. “What?”
She slowly shook her head. “This can’t end well. Watch.”
The grim certainty in her expression must have convinced him, as he reluctantly complied. His excitement would soon turn to horror.
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?