By blocking Mursalin’s first attack, the attacker showed he had been trained properly. Mursalin’s long sword flashed upwards towards the man’s head, but as the man tried to block it; Mursalin surprisingly dodged left turned round and planted his sword into his attacker’s stomach.
As his sword had truck its target, Mursalin dashed forwards to the next attacker. Knowing what to expect, this man put up a better fight.
Observing the fight from a distance, the leader cursed. “Damn it, we’ll loose too many men this way.” Then he saw from the corner of his eye the gnome scout sneak up to the paladin and he grinned.
Two attackers lay dead on the ground when the gnome reached the unexpecting Mursalin. He jumped up onto Mursalin’s back who lost his balance because of this and fell to the ground. All he knew was lots of pain and then he lost his consciousness.
The last sound he heard was an evil laughing on to of him…
Vengeance of the Heart
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
The sun started to rise when grim figures surrounded the Inn, every man following the unspoken instructions given by the leader of the group. His hands directed the men and assigned positions to all of them around the Inn, bow and arrows ready.
By his side stood the small gnome rubbing his hands in pure anticipation of what was about to happen. “We’re goi...” An angry glance looking down on him, quickly silenced him again. A bit frightened, the gnome backed of a few feet behind the leader.
Looking up again towards his men he felt self complacent. Proud of his achievements, the leader’s mind wondered of for a second. He looked at the sunrise and smiled, the time to strike was now. He raised his hand and the group responded by getting down on one knee and lighting a small torch.
The staff in the torch was sharp and pointy, it was used to jam it into the ground. The men grabbed an arrow and loaded it onto their bow. The point of the arrow was rapped in a cloth drenched in a flammable substance. Then they waited.
The leader ordered the attack by dropping his hand again. Like they had trained, the men followed the order by holding their arrow into the flame, thus setting it on fire. One by one they fired their arrows towards the roof of the Inn, only to reload for a second shot. The air was filled by small balls of fire flying in a high bow onto the Inn.
It didn’t take long for the roof to catch fire as it made of wood, just like the rest of the Inn; thus the fire spread out fast. Sneaking through every small crack of wood, the fire made it’s way inside stetting curtains and all else that would burn on fire. “Fire, fire! Wake up the Inn is on fire, we must get out of here!”
“Hold your fire until they come out!”
Three travellers opened the front door and stormed outside towards safety, or so they thought. They took one step outside and were then pierced by numerous arrows.
Harnan saw what happened and rushed from one side of the Inn looking for a safe way out. Panic took over when he could not figure out what to do to get out of there alive.
By his side stood the small gnome rubbing his hands in pure anticipation of what was about to happen. “We’re goi...” An angry glance looking down on him, quickly silenced him again. A bit frightened, the gnome backed of a few feet behind the leader.
Looking up again towards his men he felt self complacent. Proud of his achievements, the leader’s mind wondered of for a second. He looked at the sunrise and smiled, the time to strike was now. He raised his hand and the group responded by getting down on one knee and lighting a small torch.
The staff in the torch was sharp and pointy, it was used to jam it into the ground. The men grabbed an arrow and loaded it onto their bow. The point of the arrow was rapped in a cloth drenched in a flammable substance. Then they waited.
The leader ordered the attack by dropping his hand again. Like they had trained, the men followed the order by holding their arrow into the flame, thus setting it on fire. One by one they fired their arrows towards the roof of the Inn, only to reload for a second shot. The air was filled by small balls of fire flying in a high bow onto the Inn.
It didn’t take long for the roof to catch fire as it made of wood, just like the rest of the Inn; thus the fire spread out fast. Sneaking through every small crack of wood, the fire made it’s way inside stetting curtains and all else that would burn on fire. “Fire, fire! Wake up the Inn is on fire, we must get out of here!”
“Hold your fire until they come out!”
Three travellers opened the front door and stormed outside towards safety, or so they thought. They took one step outside and were then pierced by numerous arrows.
Harnan saw what happened and rushed from one side of the Inn looking for a safe way out. Panic took over when he could not figure out what to do to get out of there alive.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
The first calls of panic snapper Ae'siir's attention quickly. Glancing over to Lilth, who was slowly raising her head off the bed, and looking towards to her companion. The larger elf pushed himself up off the floor, grabbing hold of his weapons in the process. Lilth followed suit, crawling out of the bed, taking a few quick moments to throw her leather cuiress and breeches on loosely. Within moments, both were ready. They could hear some disjointed screams outside of the room, and the distinct sound of arrows being loosed. The pair quickly left the room. The halls had become clouded with thick smoke, and the sound of wood cracking, and burning swamped the pair's ears.
They made their way to one of the upper windows of the inn, ducking low under the window cell, as to avoid being spotted. Ae'siir nudged his head up towards the window, and Lilth nodded. The silent elf crept her head up, and peered out to the front of the inn. Her glance was answered with the sharp whistling noise of an arrow, and the loud thud it created by hitting the side of the inn, next to the window. Lilth pulled back quickly, and knelt beside Ae'siir, and motioned with her hands that there were armed men outside. The larger elf nodded.
"Very well." Ae'siir glanced left and right, checking the halls for anyone else. As he looked left, he saw the trailing flutter of someone's robes, but nothing else. "I have no wish to die here. We'll help them out." Lilth nodded, and smirked wryly to Ae'siir. Ae'siir then took a few low steps away from the window. Once far enough back, he stood to his full size, and drew both his Kukri's, tracing a pair of silver lines in the air. Giving each a breif spin in his palms, he looked towards the window, determindly. Lilth backed off a few steps, fastening her cuiress in the process. Ae'siir shot her another glance, and a reassuring grin, then began to run forward, towards the window. As he neared the glass frame, he raised his forearms in front of his face, and tucked his head, then with a strong push, he launched himself off the ground, and angled his body towards the outside.
*****
The leader of the assailents stood smuggly, admiring at the work his men were doing on those leaving the inn. He seemed to reveil in the sight of the burning tavern, and enjoyed waiting for his prey to leave the building, and enter his waiting grasp.
His attention was ripped away suddenly by a loud crashing noise coming from the second story of the inn. He snapped his head towards the second floor, only to be greeted by the raining shards of glass. Ae'siir came bounding out of the window, his back foot catching the window frame, and giving another great push. As the elf came carreening out of the inn, he seperated his arms, branding the twin Kukri's devilishly, a distrubingly stoic look upon his face. As Ae'siir neared the ground, the nearest men scattered, some dropping their bows in the process, in order to draw their own blades. One didn't make it. As the elf came in contact with the ground, he landed with inches of one of the men, his Kukri's already making a trail of red, tracing the lines of his attack along the man's chest and face. Ae'siir put his foot forward, and locked his leg up, and came to skidding halt.
Two of the attackers, now with their swords drawn, quickly approached Ae'siir, their blades poised to run the elf through on the first go. As the pair made their attacks, one slashing in a high arc, and the other driving his sword forward, the lighter Ae'siir only kicked back, pushing himself backwards, cleanly avoiding both clumsy attacks. As his feet touched down, the two men were already moving forward again. Before either could bridge the gap, though, a pair of silver streaks snapped through the air, finding a their marks in the soft flesh between the men's thumbs and forefingers. The two men stopped alomst instantly, their swords being dropped, and the other hands being brought close, craddling their pierced flesh. Ae'siir smirked, and glanced towards the Inn, where he saw the slender frame of Lilth, one leg dangling over the side of the window frame, leaning against the side of it, and three more darts in her hand. She flashed a quick wink, and then threw the three darts in rapid succession.
The other men, though, were able to pay strong attention though to the sole attackers, and quicky spotted Lilth sitting in the window above them, as did the leader of the group. He quickly motioned to the man on his left to hand him a one of the bows, which was promptly given. With a quick eye, he c0cked an arrow, and sent it loose. Lilth looked up, too late. The arrow sped through the air, and found a place dug into her right arm, just above the elbow. Her usual childlike demeanor now contorted into pain. Dropped several darts in her hand, she grasped hold of the wound, wrapping her fingers around the arrow's shaft. The sudden movement and pain, though, shook the usually nimble elf's balance, and small women toppled off the side of the inn, and hurtled towards the ground, ending the descent with a heavy thud, and a light moan, before slipping into unconsciousness. The men's leader watched his success happily, smirking to himself, and handing the bow off.
Ae'siir watched, his face in shocked awe. As the body of Lilth hit the ground, his eye began to twich, and his mouth hung open. The sound of her hitting the ground sent a spasm through Ae'siir's body, as he doubled over, and tucked his arms in tightly. His body was begining to convulse, and tense up, his knuckles turning a pale white as he clenched the hilts of the Kukri's even tighter. His eyes appeared to roll back into his head, and the pupils shrunk to almost nothing. A low gurgling noise could be heard from the elf's throat. The men who had began their advance suddenly halted, their courage faltering at the sight of the elf. Ae'siir's body seemed to bulge for a moment, and growing twice his normal size, and foam began to run down the side of his chin. Finally, the convulsions stopped, and the now hulking elf slumped forward onto his knees. Everything seemed to quiet down, the only recognizable sound in the area was that of the inn burning to ashes, and the scatered cries inside.
The sounds of people exiting the inn, able to do so because of the distraction caused by Ae'siir and Lilth, was dull, only a handful stopping to see what had happened outside. Those cloest to Ae'siir began to tremble somewhat, unsure of what was happening. Their questions were quickly answered as Ae'siir snapped his head up, a malicious look upon the elf's normally stoic face, his pupils almost non-existant. Then, within the blink of an eye, Ae'siir proppelled himself forward, Kukri's bared violently, speeding towards the nearest of the attackers...
They made their way to one of the upper windows of the inn, ducking low under the window cell, as to avoid being spotted. Ae'siir nudged his head up towards the window, and Lilth nodded. The silent elf crept her head up, and peered out to the front of the inn. Her glance was answered with the sharp whistling noise of an arrow, and the loud thud it created by hitting the side of the inn, next to the window. Lilth pulled back quickly, and knelt beside Ae'siir, and motioned with her hands that there were armed men outside. The larger elf nodded.
"Very well." Ae'siir glanced left and right, checking the halls for anyone else. As he looked left, he saw the trailing flutter of someone's robes, but nothing else. "I have no wish to die here. We'll help them out." Lilth nodded, and smirked wryly to Ae'siir. Ae'siir then took a few low steps away from the window. Once far enough back, he stood to his full size, and drew both his Kukri's, tracing a pair of silver lines in the air. Giving each a breif spin in his palms, he looked towards the window, determindly. Lilth backed off a few steps, fastening her cuiress in the process. Ae'siir shot her another glance, and a reassuring grin, then began to run forward, towards the window. As he neared the glass frame, he raised his forearms in front of his face, and tucked his head, then with a strong push, he launched himself off the ground, and angled his body towards the outside.
*****
The leader of the assailents stood smuggly, admiring at the work his men were doing on those leaving the inn. He seemed to reveil in the sight of the burning tavern, and enjoyed waiting for his prey to leave the building, and enter his waiting grasp.
His attention was ripped away suddenly by a loud crashing noise coming from the second story of the inn. He snapped his head towards the second floor, only to be greeted by the raining shards of glass. Ae'siir came bounding out of the window, his back foot catching the window frame, and giving another great push. As the elf came carreening out of the inn, he seperated his arms, branding the twin Kukri's devilishly, a distrubingly stoic look upon his face. As Ae'siir neared the ground, the nearest men scattered, some dropping their bows in the process, in order to draw their own blades. One didn't make it. As the elf came in contact with the ground, he landed with inches of one of the men, his Kukri's already making a trail of red, tracing the lines of his attack along the man's chest and face. Ae'siir put his foot forward, and locked his leg up, and came to skidding halt.
Two of the attackers, now with their swords drawn, quickly approached Ae'siir, their blades poised to run the elf through on the first go. As the pair made their attacks, one slashing in a high arc, and the other driving his sword forward, the lighter Ae'siir only kicked back, pushing himself backwards, cleanly avoiding both clumsy attacks. As his feet touched down, the two men were already moving forward again. Before either could bridge the gap, though, a pair of silver streaks snapped through the air, finding a their marks in the soft flesh between the men's thumbs and forefingers. The two men stopped alomst instantly, their swords being dropped, and the other hands being brought close, craddling their pierced flesh. Ae'siir smirked, and glanced towards the Inn, where he saw the slender frame of Lilth, one leg dangling over the side of the window frame, leaning against the side of it, and three more darts in her hand. She flashed a quick wink, and then threw the three darts in rapid succession.
The other men, though, were able to pay strong attention though to the sole attackers, and quicky spotted Lilth sitting in the window above them, as did the leader of the group. He quickly motioned to the man on his left to hand him a one of the bows, which was promptly given. With a quick eye, he c0cked an arrow, and sent it loose. Lilth looked up, too late. The arrow sped through the air, and found a place dug into her right arm, just above the elbow. Her usual childlike demeanor now contorted into pain. Dropped several darts in her hand, she grasped hold of the wound, wrapping her fingers around the arrow's shaft. The sudden movement and pain, though, shook the usually nimble elf's balance, and small women toppled off the side of the inn, and hurtled towards the ground, ending the descent with a heavy thud, and a light moan, before slipping into unconsciousness. The men's leader watched his success happily, smirking to himself, and handing the bow off.
Ae'siir watched, his face in shocked awe. As the body of Lilth hit the ground, his eye began to twich, and his mouth hung open. The sound of her hitting the ground sent a spasm through Ae'siir's body, as he doubled over, and tucked his arms in tightly. His body was begining to convulse, and tense up, his knuckles turning a pale white as he clenched the hilts of the Kukri's even tighter. His eyes appeared to roll back into his head, and the pupils shrunk to almost nothing. A low gurgling noise could be heard from the elf's throat. The men who had began their advance suddenly halted, their courage faltering at the sight of the elf. Ae'siir's body seemed to bulge for a moment, and growing twice his normal size, and foam began to run down the side of his chin. Finally, the convulsions stopped, and the now hulking elf slumped forward onto his knees. Everything seemed to quiet down, the only recognizable sound in the area was that of the inn burning to ashes, and the scatered cries inside.
The sounds of people exiting the inn, able to do so because of the distraction caused by Ae'siir and Lilth, was dull, only a handful stopping to see what had happened outside. Those cloest to Ae'siir began to tremble somewhat, unsure of what was happening. Their questions were quickly answered as Ae'siir snapped his head up, a malicious look upon the elf's normally stoic face, his pupils almost non-existant. Then, within the blink of an eye, Ae'siir proppelled himself forward, Kukri's bared violently, speeding towards the nearest of the attackers...
It didn’t take long for the roof to catch fire as it made of wood, just like the rest of the Inn; thus the fire spread out fast. Sneaking through every small crack of wood, the fire made it’s way inside stetting curtains and all else that would burn on fire.
Greppun, who immediately became alert to danger, quickly jumped up and rustled Acolytus’ bed.
Acolytus, now feeling the after effects of the ale failed to budge immediately, but Greppun was determined to get his master to wake. Acolytus slowly opened his eyes and groaned. His eyes were blurry and all he could see was the moving shadowy outline of Greppun in the dark. “Not now…I feel awful. Leave me, please,” Acolytus frustratingly whispered to Greppun. Greppun jumped on Acolytus again, and the motion forced Acolytus to wake up in frustration and turn on the light. “WHAT?” Acolytus shouted.
“Fire, fire! Wake up the Inn is on fire, we must get out of here!” Harnan yelled.
Acolytus jumped up and quickly put on his armor and cloak. “I apologize, my friend. I am sorry I yelled. Ale can be our enemy sometimes,” Acolytus admitted in shame.
Acolytus looked into the hallway and noticed it was shadowed by the rush of smoke from the roof. He realized it was still barely visible close to the floor, but fleeing to fresh air was of the essence. As Acolytus tried to figure whether to use the window or the hallway to the door as a means of escape, loud screams of agony outside pierced the ears of Acolytus. Tavern patrons that were staying the night had been killed outside.
“Gods. What is transpiring here this morning?” Acolytus asked in disbelief. Acolytus quickly dropped all thoughts and went with instinct for a way to escape. He dashed down the hallway, coughing from the smoke he inhaled, but stayed conscious enough to make sure that Greppun followed closely.
Acolytus found the opening to the doorway, and fresh air beyond, but something still kept him from safety. There was a large pack of foreign faces, armed heavily. Acolytus’ eyes widened as he realized this looked like the troubled grove all over again. “Does misfortune have to cross me everywhere I tread?” Acolytus painfully shouted.
Suddenly, the outside foes were distracted by something that had occurred nearby. Acolytus, with the painful headache from the ale, the smoke, and memories, gathered himself and realized this was the opportunity to go into a battle stance.
He rushed outside and just breathed for a moment, then looked down to Greppun. He gave him a piece of cloth, and pointed to a house on the horizon. Acolytus was motioning him to go to Corriatia’s house, the woman he originally came to Umar Hills for. Greppun took one last longing look at his master and ran fast towards the structure that he was destined to go.
Acolytus grinned. He rose his spear into the air. Immediately his body turned dark brown from head to toe. He stood tall, like the great pines of Neverwinter.
Acolytus then shouted, “Emitto ingenium amicitia alicunde superiacio”
Leaves from the nearby wood rushed towards Acolytus in a blur of green and brown. The wind stopped, but the leaves that gathered gradually formed into a shape. First it was a simple sphere, but quickly more finite details appeared in the object. The leaves formed a long body, and quickly got more and more detail, until a cat-like shape had been conjured from the moving leaves.
Silence.
Suddenly, the shape came to life and the creature bore its color, jet black, with yellow frowning eyes, staring at its new foes that it has been summoned to face. It let out a giant growl. The panther then charged its closest adversary who was still in awe of the appearance of the creature. In one fell swoop, the adversary’s head was ripped off. The body fell limp and fell to the ground with a thud.
Acolytus looked up and smiled again. “Now it is my turn.” Acolytus grasped his spear, and in his new bark-form, he looked at the crowd, and pointed the spear towards them.
Greppun, who immediately became alert to danger, quickly jumped up and rustled Acolytus’ bed.
Acolytus, now feeling the after effects of the ale failed to budge immediately, but Greppun was determined to get his master to wake. Acolytus slowly opened his eyes and groaned. His eyes were blurry and all he could see was the moving shadowy outline of Greppun in the dark. “Not now…I feel awful. Leave me, please,” Acolytus frustratingly whispered to Greppun. Greppun jumped on Acolytus again, and the motion forced Acolytus to wake up in frustration and turn on the light. “WHAT?” Acolytus shouted.
“Fire, fire! Wake up the Inn is on fire, we must get out of here!” Harnan yelled.
Acolytus jumped up and quickly put on his armor and cloak. “I apologize, my friend. I am sorry I yelled. Ale can be our enemy sometimes,” Acolytus admitted in shame.
Acolytus looked into the hallway and noticed it was shadowed by the rush of smoke from the roof. He realized it was still barely visible close to the floor, but fleeing to fresh air was of the essence. As Acolytus tried to figure whether to use the window or the hallway to the door as a means of escape, loud screams of agony outside pierced the ears of Acolytus. Tavern patrons that were staying the night had been killed outside.
“Gods. What is transpiring here this morning?” Acolytus asked in disbelief. Acolytus quickly dropped all thoughts and went with instinct for a way to escape. He dashed down the hallway, coughing from the smoke he inhaled, but stayed conscious enough to make sure that Greppun followed closely.
Acolytus found the opening to the doorway, and fresh air beyond, but something still kept him from safety. There was a large pack of foreign faces, armed heavily. Acolytus’ eyes widened as he realized this looked like the troubled grove all over again. “Does misfortune have to cross me everywhere I tread?” Acolytus painfully shouted.
Suddenly, the outside foes were distracted by something that had occurred nearby. Acolytus, with the painful headache from the ale, the smoke, and memories, gathered himself and realized this was the opportunity to go into a battle stance.
He rushed outside and just breathed for a moment, then looked down to Greppun. He gave him a piece of cloth, and pointed to a house on the horizon. Acolytus was motioning him to go to Corriatia’s house, the woman he originally came to Umar Hills for. Greppun took one last longing look at his master and ran fast towards the structure that he was destined to go.
Acolytus grinned. He rose his spear into the air. Immediately his body turned dark brown from head to toe. He stood tall, like the great pines of Neverwinter.
Acolytus then shouted, “Emitto ingenium amicitia alicunde superiacio”
Leaves from the nearby wood rushed towards Acolytus in a blur of green and brown. The wind stopped, but the leaves that gathered gradually formed into a shape. First it was a simple sphere, but quickly more finite details appeared in the object. The leaves formed a long body, and quickly got more and more detail, until a cat-like shape had been conjured from the moving leaves.
Silence.
Suddenly, the shape came to life and the creature bore its color, jet black, with yellow frowning eyes, staring at its new foes that it has been summoned to face. It let out a giant growl. The panther then charged its closest adversary who was still in awe of the appearance of the creature. In one fell swoop, the adversary’s head was ripped off. The body fell limp and fell to the ground with a thud.
Acolytus looked up and smiled again. “Now it is my turn.” Acolytus grasped his spear, and in his new bark-form, he looked at the crowd, and pointed the spear towards them.
“Caw, Caw!” The call of the wild calls you. Are you listening? Do you dare challenge their power? Do you dare invade? Nature will always triumph in the end.
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
-
Rudar Dimble
- Posts: 924
- Joined: Sat Apr 13, 2002 11:00 am
- Location: "I did? Hmm...I must be getting old."
- Contact:
At first, Gurdio was happy to wake up from his evil nightmare. He sat right up in bed, listening to the yelling downstairs. Something was wrong. He got up and looked outside the window. Smoke was rising up from the inn and strange, unknown enemies were roaming around the inn.
For a moment Gurdio was stunned, but his keen gnomish mind made sure he grabbed back his wits. He walked towards the door and felt whether it was hot. The cold touch and awful smell of the wooden door were there.
“Good”, Gurdio thought, “the fire hasn’t reached my room yet”.
He opened the door and walked down the hallway. When he reached the stairs, the screaming and shouting became louder and louder. Obviously there was a fight going on down there. The gnome sneaked down far enough to witness his friends from last evening fighting for their lifes.
“Payback time!”, wispered Gurdio. He stood up, concentrate for a while with his hands streched out. The palm of his right hand grabbed his chest, like it was trying to take the gnome’s heart out. After a second or two he made a throwing gesture with both his hand and shouted: “Morti eligrata non portil!” With a beautiful red beam of light three magic missles left his hand and were seeking their way towards one of the assassins. Gurdio knew the missles never missed and the target probably wasn’t one of those who could resist magic…..the missles killed him instantly.
Satisfied Gurdio walked further downstairs and he noticed the pretty elf Lilth had lost conciousness. He had to help her.
For a moment Gurdio was stunned, but his keen gnomish mind made sure he grabbed back his wits. He walked towards the door and felt whether it was hot. The cold touch and awful smell of the wooden door were there.
“Good”, Gurdio thought, “the fire hasn’t reached my room yet”.
He opened the door and walked down the hallway. When he reached the stairs, the screaming and shouting became louder and louder. Obviously there was a fight going on down there. The gnome sneaked down far enough to witness his friends from last evening fighting for their lifes.
“Payback time!”, wispered Gurdio. He stood up, concentrate for a while with his hands streched out. The palm of his right hand grabbed his chest, like it was trying to take the gnome’s heart out. After a second or two he made a throwing gesture with both his hand and shouted: “Morti eligrata non portil!” With a beautiful red beam of light three magic missles left his hand and were seeking their way towards one of the assassins. Gurdio knew the missles never missed and the target probably wasn’t one of those who could resist magic…..the missles killed him instantly.
Satisfied Gurdio walked further downstairs and he noticed the pretty elf Lilth had lost conciousness. He had to help her.
Broken promises
"They made us many promises,
more than I can remember.
But they kept but one -
They promised to take our land...
and they took it"
Chief Red Cloud
"They made us many promises,
more than I can remember.
But they kept but one -
They promised to take our land...
and they took it"
Chief Red Cloud
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Strange sounds,
Broken glass,
Heat,
Smoke?
Fire!
Crudely awoken from his sleep, Gurney was suddenly wide awake. “I have to get out of here… fast!” He grabbed his clothing from a chair and picked up his other stuff, but as he wanted to make his way downstairs he realised something was wrong. This fire was lit; someone wanted to lure them out for some reason. To kill them? Most definitely.
So he got dressed as fast as he could, swung his ballist onto his back and firmly griped his rapier in his right hand. As he made his way towards the stairs, his instinct wanted to force him to run down and out; he had to fight to stay calm.
“Steady now Gurney… You don’t want to run into whatever’s happening down there.”
Leaning against the wall, he made sure no one outside saw him. Once he had reached the door, he peeked around the corner and saw a group of similar dressed men fighting of the elf of earlier last night. He had a strange look on his face… His partner lied on the ground with Gurdio bending over to see how badly she was hurt. Perhaps that was the reason to his state. Magus, Mursalin and Acolytus were nowhere to be seen.
The three did create a breach in the formation of the attackers. Gurney kept himself hidden in the shadows until he had reached on of the archers. The man had just loaded another arrow onto his bow and aimed for the small gnome who was now an easy target.
Just before he could let his arrow fly, the blade of a dagger forced it’s way through the man’s chest. As life left the archer’s body, his body grew numb and he released the grip of the arrow. It flew through the air and pierced it’s way into the inn… inches above Gurdio’s head.
Shocked, Gurdio stared at the arrow for a second and then turned and follow the arrow’s path to its origin. When he looked, he saw the archer drop lifelessly onto the grass. Behind him stood Gurney, who nodded and then turned to face his next opponent.
Broken glass,
Heat,
Smoke?
Fire!
Crudely awoken from his sleep, Gurney was suddenly wide awake. “I have to get out of here… fast!” He grabbed his clothing from a chair and picked up his other stuff, but as he wanted to make his way downstairs he realised something was wrong. This fire was lit; someone wanted to lure them out for some reason. To kill them? Most definitely.
So he got dressed as fast as he could, swung his ballist onto his back and firmly griped his rapier in his right hand. As he made his way towards the stairs, his instinct wanted to force him to run down and out; he had to fight to stay calm.
“Steady now Gurney… You don’t want to run into whatever’s happening down there.”
Leaning against the wall, he made sure no one outside saw him. Once he had reached the door, he peeked around the corner and saw a group of similar dressed men fighting of the elf of earlier last night. He had a strange look on his face… His partner lied on the ground with Gurdio bending over to see how badly she was hurt. Perhaps that was the reason to his state. Magus, Mursalin and Acolytus were nowhere to be seen.
The three did create a breach in the formation of the attackers. Gurney kept himself hidden in the shadows until he had reached on of the archers. The man had just loaded another arrow onto his bow and aimed for the small gnome who was now an easy target.
Just before he could let his arrow fly, the blade of a dagger forced it’s way through the man’s chest. As life left the archer’s body, his body grew numb and he released the grip of the arrow. It flew through the air and pierced it’s way into the inn… inches above Gurdio’s head.
Shocked, Gurdio stared at the arrow for a second and then turned and follow the arrow’s path to its origin. When he looked, he saw the archer drop lifelessly onto the grass. Behind him stood Gurney, who nodded and then turned to face his next opponent.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
As the leader saw Lilth being shot down, he smiled pleased. “Good, they can never hold up against us for long.”
However, the defenders seemed to be getting the overhand in this fight. Ae’siir took on several attackers by himself while Gurdio took care of Lilth. Gurney carefully took out some attackers, trying not to draw attention to himself and Acolytus had summoned help too his aid.
“Damn incompetent fools, must I do everything myself?” He moved forwards towards his men, there he stopped and looked up to the sky and softly mumbled strange divine words. Suddenly he raised his hands as high as he could and shouted; “Erythnul, aid your loyal servant!”
A bright light shone down at him, and he looked bigger and stronger; laughing manically with his hands still raised up high.
He lowered his hands, rolled his head around to loosen his neck and turned to face Acolytus. With his hands, he started making strange gestures while speaking unclear words; then he pointed towards a sport near Acolytus. At first nothing happened, then the earth got torn open and a skeleton caring a long sword and a shield climbed out and made its way to Acolytus.
Not wasting any time, the leader turned away and focused his attention to the rest of the group. There were but a few of his men left there.
Agitated by his men’s failure, he looked for this most nearby enemy, it was Gurney. Focusing his anger towards him, he again muttered some strange words and aimed his spell on Gurney. As soon as he had finished the spell, Gurney felt his attacks getting weak and his mind getting clouded.
Gurney knew had been affected by a spell witch affected his skills, so he dropped back towards Gurdio.
The leader grabbed his mace and shield and slowly made his way towards Gurney.
However, the defenders seemed to be getting the overhand in this fight. Ae’siir took on several attackers by himself while Gurdio took care of Lilth. Gurney carefully took out some attackers, trying not to draw attention to himself and Acolytus had summoned help too his aid.
“Damn incompetent fools, must I do everything myself?” He moved forwards towards his men, there he stopped and looked up to the sky and softly mumbled strange divine words. Suddenly he raised his hands as high as he could and shouted; “Erythnul, aid your loyal servant!”
A bright light shone down at him, and he looked bigger and stronger; laughing manically with his hands still raised up high.
He lowered his hands, rolled his head around to loosen his neck and turned to face Acolytus. With his hands, he started making strange gestures while speaking unclear words; then he pointed towards a sport near Acolytus. At first nothing happened, then the earth got torn open and a skeleton caring a long sword and a shield climbed out and made its way to Acolytus.
Not wasting any time, the leader turned away and focused his attention to the rest of the group. There were but a few of his men left there.
Agitated by his men’s failure, he looked for this most nearby enemy, it was Gurney. Focusing his anger towards him, he again muttered some strange words and aimed his spell on Gurney. As soon as he had finished the spell, Gurney felt his attacks getting weak and his mind getting clouded.
Gurney knew had been affected by a spell witch affected his skills, so he dropped back towards Gurdio.
The leader grabbed his mace and shield and slowly made his way towards Gurney.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
“Erythnul, aid your loyal servant!”
A bright light shone down at him, and he looked bigger and stronger; laughing maniacally with his hands still raised up high.
He lowered his hands, rolled his head around to loosen his neck and turned to face Acolytus. With his hands, he started making strange gestures while speaking unclear words; then he pointed towards a sport near Acolytus. At first nothing happened, then the earth got torn open and a skeleton caring a long sword and a shield climbed out and made its way to Acolytus.
Acolytus looked at the earth below him ripple and crack open from the cleric’s spell. His eyes widened as he saw the demonic creature emerge from the hells from which he came. Acolytus snarled as the creature prepared for combat. Acolytus’ eyes became focused and thin, “I shall enjoy sending you back to your home, demon.”
The panther was busy fending off the armed enemies, as it was clear even the mighty cat could not take on a three on one battle. Acolytus knew the panther would stay true to the battle at hand, and would endure the pain that it would inevitably receive. Acolytus grasped the spear and pointed it straight at the skeleton and started to charge.
The skeleton held its kite shield firmly in front of him, but also prepared the long battle-worn sword for a counter slash. Acolytus’ fury was apparent. He held the spear high above his head, ready for a downward thrust on his summoned foe. The point of the spear made hard contact on the kite shield of the skeleton. Sparks flew in a yellow shower of metal and old dry paint that once embedded this well crafted shield. The skeleton was taken back by the force Acolytus made on the shield. His back leg bent from the pressure Acolytus applied. The skeleton, not knowing the meaning of pain or reason, still made the slash counter attack he planned, but the momentum of the attack was too much on Acolytus’ side. The slash the skeleton planned landed well short of Acolytus’ body. The momentum of Acolytus’ attack caused Acolytus to land in a kneeled position. But the skeletons poorly planned attack gave Acolytus time to reassume himself in a battle stance. Acolytus, discouraged that his primary forceful attack did little to harm the skeleton, took a quick breath and waited for the skeleton’s inevitable attack. The skeleton, though essentially stupid, was a skilled attacker. The skeleton threw the sword up in the air, and with great force, he swung it down at Acolytus. The air being cut under the sword’s mighty swing could be heard with ease. Acolytus had little time to notice the giant swing, and attempted a quick dodge. The sword made heavy contact with Acolytus’ elbow, which was still in the path of the swinging sword after his attempted dodge. Barkskin flew off of Acolytus’ elbow, but the sword dug deeper, past the barkskin, and penetrated the flesh. Acolytus only grimaced a split second, but with determination in his eyes, it did not deter him. Acolytus, with the injured elbow, grasped the spear once again and thrust it towards the skeleton, once again. With the skeleton’s attack leaving his entire right side exposed, Acolytus realized this was a golden opportunity. This time, Acolytus was careful to avoid the broad shield.
Acolytus swung around on a pivot so that he quickly was looking straight at the expressionless face of the skeleton. Acolytus clenched his spear such that his right hand was in the back and left hand in the front in order to force a strong but downward motion in order to make contact the skeleton’s skull. Acolytus’ thrust was successful as it gouged into the skull of his enemy. Gray powder erupted from the right side of the skeleton’s head, created by the heavy hit Acolytus created. The skeleton undeterred from this attack, and immune to pain brought his sword up into the air. Acolytus took the spear and jerked it backwards and thrust it towards the skeleton’s weapon arm. The quick jolt of a hit Acolytus forced, caused the arm of the skeleton to be pushed backward, negating his oncoming attack. Acolytus, now realizing he was in the position of control, kept pushing the skeleton backward with the spear. Acolytus then took his right foot and placed it behind the right leg of the back-peddling skeleton. The skeleton fell backwards to the ground. Acolytus brought his leg upwards and placed it firmly on the skeleton’s arm holding the weapon. Acolytus threw his spear high in the air and, with force, quickly threw the spear down towards the remnants of the skull of the fallen skeleton. The spear dug deep into the skull and it was a final hit. The skeleton turned into a pile of dust in a flash once the spear made its fatal blow into the skull.
Acolytus turned around towards his panther, and saw it beaten, bloody, and bruised. The panther had been doing its job as it had severly wounded a thug in the enemies’ party. The panther continued its stance as an attacker and protecting its summoner, but Acolytus knew his summon would not last much longer. Still, the panther fought with pride in his eye.
A bright light shone down at him, and he looked bigger and stronger; laughing maniacally with his hands still raised up high.
He lowered his hands, rolled his head around to loosen his neck and turned to face Acolytus. With his hands, he started making strange gestures while speaking unclear words; then he pointed towards a sport near Acolytus. At first nothing happened, then the earth got torn open and a skeleton caring a long sword and a shield climbed out and made its way to Acolytus.
Acolytus looked at the earth below him ripple and crack open from the cleric’s spell. His eyes widened as he saw the demonic creature emerge from the hells from which he came. Acolytus snarled as the creature prepared for combat. Acolytus’ eyes became focused and thin, “I shall enjoy sending you back to your home, demon.”
The panther was busy fending off the armed enemies, as it was clear even the mighty cat could not take on a three on one battle. Acolytus knew the panther would stay true to the battle at hand, and would endure the pain that it would inevitably receive. Acolytus grasped the spear and pointed it straight at the skeleton and started to charge.
The skeleton held its kite shield firmly in front of him, but also prepared the long battle-worn sword for a counter slash. Acolytus’ fury was apparent. He held the spear high above his head, ready for a downward thrust on his summoned foe. The point of the spear made hard contact on the kite shield of the skeleton. Sparks flew in a yellow shower of metal and old dry paint that once embedded this well crafted shield. The skeleton was taken back by the force Acolytus made on the shield. His back leg bent from the pressure Acolytus applied. The skeleton, not knowing the meaning of pain or reason, still made the slash counter attack he planned, but the momentum of the attack was too much on Acolytus’ side. The slash the skeleton planned landed well short of Acolytus’ body. The momentum of Acolytus’ attack caused Acolytus to land in a kneeled position. But the skeletons poorly planned attack gave Acolytus time to reassume himself in a battle stance. Acolytus, discouraged that his primary forceful attack did little to harm the skeleton, took a quick breath and waited for the skeleton’s inevitable attack. The skeleton, though essentially stupid, was a skilled attacker. The skeleton threw the sword up in the air, and with great force, he swung it down at Acolytus. The air being cut under the sword’s mighty swing could be heard with ease. Acolytus had little time to notice the giant swing, and attempted a quick dodge. The sword made heavy contact with Acolytus’ elbow, which was still in the path of the swinging sword after his attempted dodge. Barkskin flew off of Acolytus’ elbow, but the sword dug deeper, past the barkskin, and penetrated the flesh. Acolytus only grimaced a split second, but with determination in his eyes, it did not deter him. Acolytus, with the injured elbow, grasped the spear once again and thrust it towards the skeleton, once again. With the skeleton’s attack leaving his entire right side exposed, Acolytus realized this was a golden opportunity. This time, Acolytus was careful to avoid the broad shield.
Acolytus swung around on a pivot so that he quickly was looking straight at the expressionless face of the skeleton. Acolytus clenched his spear such that his right hand was in the back and left hand in the front in order to force a strong but downward motion in order to make contact the skeleton’s skull. Acolytus’ thrust was successful as it gouged into the skull of his enemy. Gray powder erupted from the right side of the skeleton’s head, created by the heavy hit Acolytus created. The skeleton undeterred from this attack, and immune to pain brought his sword up into the air. Acolytus took the spear and jerked it backwards and thrust it towards the skeleton’s weapon arm. The quick jolt of a hit Acolytus forced, caused the arm of the skeleton to be pushed backward, negating his oncoming attack. Acolytus, now realizing he was in the position of control, kept pushing the skeleton backward with the spear. Acolytus then took his right foot and placed it behind the right leg of the back-peddling skeleton. The skeleton fell backwards to the ground. Acolytus brought his leg upwards and placed it firmly on the skeleton’s arm holding the weapon. Acolytus threw his spear high in the air and, with force, quickly threw the spear down towards the remnants of the skull of the fallen skeleton. The spear dug deep into the skull and it was a final hit. The skeleton turned into a pile of dust in a flash once the spear made its fatal blow into the skull.
Acolytus turned around towards his panther, and saw it beaten, bloody, and bruised. The panther had been doing its job as it had severly wounded a thug in the enemies’ party. The panther continued its stance as an attacker and protecting its summoner, but Acolytus knew his summon would not last much longer. Still, the panther fought with pride in his eye.
“Caw, Caw!” The call of the wild calls you. Are you listening? Do you dare challenge their power? Do you dare invade? Nature will always triumph in the end.
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
The attacking men do little to thwart the renewed vigour of the elf. Moving swiftly, Ae'siir came crashing in upon the group of assailants, Kukri's bared viciously. As the elf neared the first, the man raised his blade, blocking the path of the powerful attack. The sound of metal clashing upon metal rung out in the ears of those around them, but fell upon deaf ears to Ae'siir. The man recoiled a bit, trying to steady the blade as it shook from the ferocity of the attack. Before he could even look back up towards the elf, another attack came bounding in, the hooked edge of the kukri speeding past the man. For the brief moment following, the man stared blankly, trembling, thinking the blade had severed his life in one deft motion. The moment ended quickly, as Ae'siir wrapped the deadly weapon around the mans back, and ripped it forward, tearing the upper torso of the man apart from his lower half. A wave of blood erupted from the exposed organs of the man, and the staggered gasps and cries of pain rang loudly in the ears of his surrounding comrades. Ae'siir didn't slow. He spun just as quickly as he killed the man, and set his sight on the other two who had advanced upon him. His face had been splashed with the man's blood, and the crimson liquid intermingled with the green tattoo, creating a twisted display, and mockery of what it represented. Ae'siir's eyes showed no semblence of sanity, or comprehension, only an insatiable bloodlust.
The two men stagered backwards, holding their swords up, visibly shaking. Neither could blink, nor would they risk it in such a case. They watched as Ae'siir began to stock their way, and they slowly began to retreat faster. As Ae'siir stepped closer and closer, one man finally broke, turning, dropping his sword, and running as swiftly as he could from the elf. Ae'siir followed suit, charging forward, past the other man. As the retreating man ran, his arms flailing wildy, he neglected to look back, and didn't see the image of Ae'siir leaping powerfully into the air, and come crashing down, driving the keen edges of the twin Kukri's deep into the man's back, and straight through, until the tips could be seen coming from the man's stomach. The man's body lurched forward, and blood flowed freely from his mouth, as his eyes drained of all life. Ae'siir remained standing over top the dead man, a pool of blood staining the ground at his feet, his body heaving in a slowly, rythmatic motion. Slowly, he turned his head, his souless eyes turning upon the final assailant who had attacked him. A thick lather ran freely from the corners of the elf's mouth, and his gritted teeth were bared. The final man only closed his eyes as Ae'siir began the charge towards him, preferring not to witness his demise. Ae'siir ended it swiftly, severing the head of the man cleanly from the body in one single strike to the neck.
Ae'siir then stopped, and turned his body towards the sounds of combat around the edge of the Inn, swiftly making his way towards it. As he rounded the corner, his eyes narrowed in upon the first person he saw, the image of a man standing over top of Lilth. His eyes narrowed into slits of their former self, and he charged forth...
The two men stagered backwards, holding their swords up, visibly shaking. Neither could blink, nor would they risk it in such a case. They watched as Ae'siir began to stock their way, and they slowly began to retreat faster. As Ae'siir stepped closer and closer, one man finally broke, turning, dropping his sword, and running as swiftly as he could from the elf. Ae'siir followed suit, charging forward, past the other man. As the retreating man ran, his arms flailing wildy, he neglected to look back, and didn't see the image of Ae'siir leaping powerfully into the air, and come crashing down, driving the keen edges of the twin Kukri's deep into the man's back, and straight through, until the tips could be seen coming from the man's stomach. The man's body lurched forward, and blood flowed freely from his mouth, as his eyes drained of all life. Ae'siir remained standing over top the dead man, a pool of blood staining the ground at his feet, his body heaving in a slowly, rythmatic motion. Slowly, he turned his head, his souless eyes turning upon the final assailant who had attacked him. A thick lather ran freely from the corners of the elf's mouth, and his gritted teeth were bared. The final man only closed his eyes as Ae'siir began the charge towards him, preferring not to witness his demise. Ae'siir ended it swiftly, severing the head of the man cleanly from the body in one single strike to the neck.
Ae'siir then stopped, and turned his body towards the sounds of combat around the edge of the Inn, swiftly making his way towards it. As he rounded the corner, his eyes narrowed in upon the first person he saw, the image of a man standing over top of Lilth. His eyes narrowed into slits of their former self, and he charged forth...
-
Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Backing up from the approaching cleric, Gurney scanned the environment deciding about what he should do next. In his current state, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance against the cleric. Then he suddenly realised something; the wizard, he’s not out yet!
He glanced over to the burning inn, the roof was totally covered in flames and the burning hay flew through the sky carried by the hard wind. Villagers tried their best at keeping other houses from catching fire as well. By this time, flames had completely covered the inn making an enormous pillar of fire.
Could he still make it inside and get the wizard out safely? He had to try. Gurney turned around, straightened his back and directed himself the gnome Gurdio. “There must be something wrong with Magus! You take care if this guy while I go back inside and get him out safely!” Gurdio nodded in understandment.
Acolytus seemed to have taken care of his opponents himself and turned to face the cleric as well. Good; Gurney though; together they might just stand a chance.
Still not really confident about the upcoming fight, he turned towards the inn and made his way towards the door. Should I really let those two take this guy on? He seems to be pretty strong. Hopefully someone comes to their aid… they’ll need al the help they can get.
Perhaps they’ll hold on long enough for me to aid them when I’m back. They won’t get any assistance from the villagers, that’s for sure.
One of the two archers that were still left standing heard about this plan and quickly blocked Gurney’s way. “You’ll never get him out. He’ll pay for what you did to my friends!”
Full of anger and hate Gurney dashed towards the man. With his dagger in one hand and his rapier in the other he made one all or nothing attack. Gurney stabbed his rapier forward with awesome speed and the man had trouble avoiding it. Without slowing down, Gurney continued his attack. As he jumped passed the man, who he saw to be nothing more then an obstacle, he held his dagger at his side pointing it outwards. Passing the man, his dagger slid open the man’s belly, the inside of his guts fell into the grass making a bloody mess. Without even looking back at his, now beaten, opponent Gurney leaped through the burning door into the red hot inn.
The last archer who saw this all happen looked around in horror and saw that he was the last one left. He could think about only one thing, to get the hell out of there! He turned around and ran as fast as he could, stumbling over his own feet in pure panic.
Once inside and surrounded with flames Gurney carefully made his way towards the stairs. “Magus, where are you?”
He glanced over to the burning inn, the roof was totally covered in flames and the burning hay flew through the sky carried by the hard wind. Villagers tried their best at keeping other houses from catching fire as well. By this time, flames had completely covered the inn making an enormous pillar of fire.
Could he still make it inside and get the wizard out safely? He had to try. Gurney turned around, straightened his back and directed himself the gnome Gurdio. “There must be something wrong with Magus! You take care if this guy while I go back inside and get him out safely!” Gurdio nodded in understandment.
Acolytus seemed to have taken care of his opponents himself and turned to face the cleric as well. Good; Gurney though; together they might just stand a chance.
Still not really confident about the upcoming fight, he turned towards the inn and made his way towards the door. Should I really let those two take this guy on? He seems to be pretty strong. Hopefully someone comes to their aid… they’ll need al the help they can get.
Perhaps they’ll hold on long enough for me to aid them when I’m back. They won’t get any assistance from the villagers, that’s for sure.
One of the two archers that were still left standing heard about this plan and quickly blocked Gurney’s way. “You’ll never get him out. He’ll pay for what you did to my friends!”
Full of anger and hate Gurney dashed towards the man. With his dagger in one hand and his rapier in the other he made one all or nothing attack. Gurney stabbed his rapier forward with awesome speed and the man had trouble avoiding it. Without slowing down, Gurney continued his attack. As he jumped passed the man, who he saw to be nothing more then an obstacle, he held his dagger at his side pointing it outwards. Passing the man, his dagger slid open the man’s belly, the inside of his guts fell into the grass making a bloody mess. Without even looking back at his, now beaten, opponent Gurney leaped through the burning door into the red hot inn.
The last archer who saw this all happen looked around in horror and saw that he was the last one left. He could think about only one thing, to get the hell out of there! He turned around and ran as fast as he could, stumbling over his own feet in pure panic.
Once inside and surrounded with flames Gurney carefully made his way towards the stairs. “Magus, where are you?”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
After the relatively quick battle against the skeleton Acolytus faced the nearby group of foes that were ganging up on the panther. Acolytus knew he would either need a quick summon or assistance from Greppun or Corriatia, his friend residing in Umar.
Acolytus realized he had no way of casting a spell, uninterrupted due to the group of archers, ready to shoot an arrow, or a cleric, who could possibly cast a spell to cause distraction. “Fine,” Acolytus sighed. “My fate is in the hands of Greppun’s mission or these strangers.”
Acolytus, only barely wounded from the scuffle with the skeleton charged towards the closest adversary that had been attacking, the heavily wounded, panther. Acolytus took the blunt side of his spear and aimed it towards the helmet of the adversary, who had his back to Acolytus. Acolytus’ spear’s blunt side hit the side of the head of the, unknowing, warrior. Acolytus then forced his blow upwards, thereby, knocking the helmet straight off his foe. Acolytus then twirled his spear on a pivot, so that the pointed end faced his foe. Acolytus forced the spear forward, straight through the gaping mouth of the foe. Blood shot out of the man’s mouth like a geyser, as he could only gag in his final moments of life.
One warrior who was working on dispatching the panther turned to see his friend die in an utterly disgraceful manner. This man screamed to the height of his lungs and took his sword high in the air, aiming it towards Acolytus.
“You die, druid. You shall not se……”
The man’s words stopped dead. Greppun had leapt up on the man’s shoulders and dropped him flat on the ground. Acolytus gained his composure quickly. The panther held the third and fourth men in this part group at bay before he finally had fallen under the massive battle scars he previously suffered. The two men started to advance towards the dire wolf and the druid. Acolytus was just raising his spear on his fallen foe, when he heard a voice like ambrosia to his ears.
“Adgero absilio tabulatus praealtus,” cried a woman in the slight distance. Corriatia had arrived.
Acolytus sighed. But then he thought, “Adgero absilio tabulatus praealtus. What spell is this?”
Suddenly, the earth moved from below the ground rumbled and plants began to rise. Acolytus muttered, “Entangle” and started to run from the vacinity of the spell, with Greppun closely following.
Acolytus realized he had no way of casting a spell, uninterrupted due to the group of archers, ready to shoot an arrow, or a cleric, who could possibly cast a spell to cause distraction. “Fine,” Acolytus sighed. “My fate is in the hands of Greppun’s mission or these strangers.”
Acolytus, only barely wounded from the scuffle with the skeleton charged towards the closest adversary that had been attacking, the heavily wounded, panther. Acolytus took the blunt side of his spear and aimed it towards the helmet of the adversary, who had his back to Acolytus. Acolytus’ spear’s blunt side hit the side of the head of the, unknowing, warrior. Acolytus then forced his blow upwards, thereby, knocking the helmet straight off his foe. Acolytus then twirled his spear on a pivot, so that the pointed end faced his foe. Acolytus forced the spear forward, straight through the gaping mouth of the foe. Blood shot out of the man’s mouth like a geyser, as he could only gag in his final moments of life.
One warrior who was working on dispatching the panther turned to see his friend die in an utterly disgraceful manner. This man screamed to the height of his lungs and took his sword high in the air, aiming it towards Acolytus.
“You die, druid. You shall not se……”
The man’s words stopped dead. Greppun had leapt up on the man’s shoulders and dropped him flat on the ground. Acolytus gained his composure quickly. The panther held the third and fourth men in this part group at bay before he finally had fallen under the massive battle scars he previously suffered. The two men started to advance towards the dire wolf and the druid. Acolytus was just raising his spear on his fallen foe, when he heard a voice like ambrosia to his ears.
“Adgero absilio tabulatus praealtus,” cried a woman in the slight distance. Corriatia had arrived.
Acolytus sighed. But then he thought, “Adgero absilio tabulatus praealtus. What spell is this?”
Suddenly, the earth moved from below the ground rumbled and plants began to rise. Acolytus muttered, “Entangle” and started to run from the vacinity of the spell, with Greppun closely following.
“Caw, Caw!” The call of the wild calls you. Are you listening? Do you dare challenge their power? Do you dare invade? Nature will always triumph in the end.
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
A terrible scream woke Celestia from her rest. She sit up and looked around, confused. She was lying on a pillow next to the bed, the light of dawn shining through the window. Oh no, she’d fallen asleep! Her master’s ring…
A crash at the door almost scared her to death, followed by a shrieking that made her clutch her knees to her chest in fright. She coughed. The air was bad, and it was getting hard to see. Magus! She stood up and looked around again. There he was! He was sitting at the desk, his head buried in an open book, sound asleep.
She beat her little wings as fast as she could, landing on Magus’s shoulder. “Master, master, wake up! Wake up!” she cried, struggling to pry his eye open when he didn’t answer. Still nothing. Terrified, she did the only thing she could think of.
She took her finger and jammed it into his eye as hard as she could.
* * * * *
“By the black fingernail of Cyric!” Magus screamed, jolted to consciousness with agonizing abruptness. He slapped a hand to his pulsing eye in shock. A crimson curtain danced before his mutilated eye like a wave of molten lava. He pulled the hand away, stained red with blood.
When he finally looked down he spotted Celestia, cowering behind his open spellbook. “What…!” The sentence was interrupted by a hacking cough. The air was a dull smoky gray, the room uncomfortably warm. “By Mystra, we have to get out of here!” He grabbed his spellbook in one hand, Celestia in the other, and ran to the door. A grisly orange glow shone from under the door, as if from the Netherworld’s unforgiving depths. A wave of heat rushed in, forcing him to step back. No good. He had spells to deal with mild heat…but not this. The window was his only chance.
He stuffed his spellbook in his robe and Celestia into his pocket without sparing a glance. Thoughts raced through his mind like never before, his mind a whirl of possibilities, causes, and effects, sharpened to impossible keeness by death’s looming shadow. Without knowing why he knew it was unsafe to leap out the window…for reasons other than falling. Choking smoke billowed about him as he prepared to make his move, and death’s sickle began its final, fateful descent.
* * * * *
Without warning one of the second-story windows erupted in a sea of flame and shattered glass, a blackened figure tumbling down in its wake. If it made a sound when it hit the ground, it was drowned out by the roar of the fire above. There the burned and broken body lied still, the blackened remnants of once-fine robes flapping in the chill morning breeze as the fire died down above. If one listened closely, faint words of magic could be heard whispered on the wind’s gentle currents, as if in mourning of one its own…
Then it lapsed into silence once again and blew past, over and past the rosy horizon of yet another day's dawn.
A crash at the door almost scared her to death, followed by a shrieking that made her clutch her knees to her chest in fright. She coughed. The air was bad, and it was getting hard to see. Magus! She stood up and looked around again. There he was! He was sitting at the desk, his head buried in an open book, sound asleep.
She beat her little wings as fast as she could, landing on Magus’s shoulder. “Master, master, wake up! Wake up!” she cried, struggling to pry his eye open when he didn’t answer. Still nothing. Terrified, she did the only thing she could think of.
She took her finger and jammed it into his eye as hard as she could.
* * * * *
“By the black fingernail of Cyric!” Magus screamed, jolted to consciousness with agonizing abruptness. He slapped a hand to his pulsing eye in shock. A crimson curtain danced before his mutilated eye like a wave of molten lava. He pulled the hand away, stained red with blood.
When he finally looked down he spotted Celestia, cowering behind his open spellbook. “What…!” The sentence was interrupted by a hacking cough. The air was a dull smoky gray, the room uncomfortably warm. “By Mystra, we have to get out of here!” He grabbed his spellbook in one hand, Celestia in the other, and ran to the door. A grisly orange glow shone from under the door, as if from the Netherworld’s unforgiving depths. A wave of heat rushed in, forcing him to step back. No good. He had spells to deal with mild heat…but not this. The window was his only chance.
He stuffed his spellbook in his robe and Celestia into his pocket without sparing a glance. Thoughts raced through his mind like never before, his mind a whirl of possibilities, causes, and effects, sharpened to impossible keeness by death’s looming shadow. Without knowing why he knew it was unsafe to leap out the window…for reasons other than falling. Choking smoke billowed about him as he prepared to make his move, and death’s sickle began its final, fateful descent.
* * * * *
Without warning one of the second-story windows erupted in a sea of flame and shattered glass, a blackened figure tumbling down in its wake. If it made a sound when it hit the ground, it was drowned out by the roar of the fire above. There the burned and broken body lied still, the blackened remnants of once-fine robes flapping in the chill morning breeze as the fire died down above. If one listened closely, faint words of magic could be heard whispered on the wind’s gentle currents, as if in mourning of one its own…
Then it lapsed into silence once again and blew past, over and past the rosy horizon of yet another day's dawn.
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?
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Rob-hin
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The appearance of the female druid and the dire wolf worried the cleric. The balance of power had just shifted more over to his opponents. Gurneys action to go into the inn and try to get Magus out safely didn’t matter much. He knew he had to do something…
“Damn you, damn you all to hell!” The cleric focused his attention towards the new thread coming up from behind. “Do you tree lovers actually think you stand a chance against me?” he grinned evilly; “Lets see how you deal with nature turning itself against you then!”
The cleric closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his mind. With his eyes still closed he initiated his spell, stirring magic energy with his hands in a strange sequence; colourful lights lid up his face and he felt confident about the affect of this spell.
He opened his eyes and trusted his hands pointing forwards to a spot between them him and Acolytus and his woman friend just out of the range of the entangle spell; which held the last two of his men already.
A few bugs crawling on the moist grass on the spot suddenly had a purple glow on them; seconds later one of them started growing until they it was twice the size of an average human.
“I underestimated you the first time but I won’t make the same mistake twice!”
In the middle of the battlefield now stood a large ant willing to follow every command of the cleric. “Attack them! Kill em all!” He pointed in the direction of Acolytus and his friend.
After this the cleric picked up his mace again turned and started dashing towards Gurdio.
“You are next midget!”
“Damn you, damn you all to hell!” The cleric focused his attention towards the new thread coming up from behind. “Do you tree lovers actually think you stand a chance against me?” he grinned evilly; “Lets see how you deal with nature turning itself against you then!”
The cleric closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his mind. With his eyes still closed he initiated his spell, stirring magic energy with his hands in a strange sequence; colourful lights lid up his face and he felt confident about the affect of this spell.
He opened his eyes and trusted his hands pointing forwards to a spot between them him and Acolytus and his woman friend just out of the range of the entangle spell; which held the last two of his men already.
A few bugs crawling on the moist grass on the spot suddenly had a purple glow on them; seconds later one of them started growing until they it was twice the size of an average human.
“I underestimated you the first time but I won’t make the same mistake twice!”
In the middle of the battlefield now stood a large ant willing to follow every command of the cleric. “Attack them! Kill em all!” He pointed in the direction of Acolytus and his friend.
After this the cleric picked up his mace again turned and started dashing towards Gurdio.
“You are next midget!”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
Acolytus was running from the area of the entanglement spell, when he heard the minor creeping doom spell in the background.
A few bugs crawling on the moist grass on the spot suddenly had a purple glow on them; seconds later one of them started growing until they it was twice the size of an average human.
“I underestimated you the first time but I won’t make the same mistake twice!”
In the middle of the battlefield now stood a large ant willing to follow every command of the cleric. “Attack them! Kill em all!” He pointed in the direction of Acolytus and his friend.
The ant was too far away from the entanglement area, where the last few remaining thugs in the area struggled to stay above the rising greenery. The ant awakened to life and stared down his closest opponent, Corriatia. Corriatia looked over to Acolytus, who was now relatively far from the action due to his running, she then staired down her new opponent. She stared at the furious beast, who was, mindlessly, just trying to dispose of any foe. Then she noticed the pesky cleric in the distance. “Acolytus, dear friend,” she cried “Run further back, I need you to do this, no questions asked. We can unite once again and gain victory, but you must run from the area first. Keep Greppun here. I need his help.”
Acolytus hesitated, because he did not want to see her hurt in any way. She was precious to him in every form, but he knew that she knew exactly what to do. Acolytus motioned to the dire wolf, and Greppun ran to Corriatia’s side. Soon enough, he could not resist the urge, and ran towards the ant, who was approaching Corriatia, and Greppun immediately attacked. This gave Corriatia the time she needed to cast the spell she wanted.
“Accedo committo accumulator” Corriatia yelled. Her hands danced quickly in the air and a light golden sphere began to form in her palms. The spheres grew larger and larger until they reached the size of a human head. To orbs sat in her hands. She stopped. Slowly she brought her hands into the sky, still marred in black from the inn’s fire. The golden spheres acted in great contrast to the smoke in the air.
While Corriatia was casting her spell, Greppun was head to head with the giant ant. His first attacks were aimed at the lift center legs of the ant, avoiding the rigid jaws of the enemy. The ant, at first, dismissed its attacks, as it was focused on the female druid casting a spell. Greppun then opened its mouth wide before jutting his mouth into the leg of the ant, causing a geyser of yellow blood to poor from the side. Greppun had ripped the leg right off. The ant went to its hind legs, much like a dog in agony and dropped to the ground on its remaining 7 legs, it turned in a rage at the wolf. The ant brought its head to the ground, acting like a ramp. He pushed his head under the wolf and threw him up in the air. The wolf flew for a few seconds and landed in a thud. Acolytus had been looking at this from afar, and he could only take so much from looking at a distance.
Corriatia now moved her hands forward and the orbs shot outwards towards the cleric, who was a relatively far away, but within reach. The 2 orbs exploded halfway to the cleric, and the explosion caused myriads of tiny insects to pour out in the area of the explosion. Corratia smiled as she realized his spell casting abilities were now quite limited. At this point the ant had disregarded the wolf who made squealing noises of pain, but was otherwise, fine. Corriatia had no time to reach for her weapon for a head on head attack on the ant.
Acolytus knew that Corriatia wanted him out of the immediate area so that he could cast a spell or two before the insect swarm hurt him. Acolytus grabbed his spear and now attempted to assist Corriatia in her battle. Acolytus took advantage of not being effected by the insect swarm. He brought his fists together near his chest, closed his eyes and whispered briefly. Slowly, then quickly he began to glow yellow. The yellow grew from being his aura into his actual form. His body shaped into a different being. Wings formed off of Acolytus and his body shrunk. A mace like tail then formed. His shapechange was complete. Acolytus was now a baby wyvern. Acolytus flew as fast as he could towards Corriatia.
Corriatia had no time to prepare for the Ant’s attack, even with 7 legs, the ant’s anger drove him faster then before. He dragged his head as he ran, ready to catapult Corriatia into the air. He shoveled his head under the legs of Corriatia and flung her high into the air, much like Greppun. She landed awkwardly on her leg, and appeared to be in great pain. The ant approached again, and brought its head up, ready to make the paralyzed Corriatia into its meal. The ant suddenly felt a blunt, spiked weapon gorge into its rear, as the yellow blood again poured out of the insect. Acolytus was flying above the creature and was swinging his poisonous tail. The ant tried desperately to attack the flying foe, but couldn’t reach as Acolytus knew how to dodge in the sky and had the time. Acolytus quickly made another swoop down towards the ant’s back. And again. And again. The ant could do nothing but helplessly struggle. Acolytus waved his tail again for one giant hit on the ant’s head. The ant swung high in the air trying to hit the wyvern, in the sky, but Acolytus flung his tail and made direct contact with the head, sending the ant to its back, where it bled to death and the poison gradually made its way into the blood stream.
A few bugs crawling on the moist grass on the spot suddenly had a purple glow on them; seconds later one of them started growing until they it was twice the size of an average human.
“I underestimated you the first time but I won’t make the same mistake twice!”
In the middle of the battlefield now stood a large ant willing to follow every command of the cleric. “Attack them! Kill em all!” He pointed in the direction of Acolytus and his friend.
The ant was too far away from the entanglement area, where the last few remaining thugs in the area struggled to stay above the rising greenery. The ant awakened to life and stared down his closest opponent, Corriatia. Corriatia looked over to Acolytus, who was now relatively far from the action due to his running, she then staired down her new opponent. She stared at the furious beast, who was, mindlessly, just trying to dispose of any foe. Then she noticed the pesky cleric in the distance. “Acolytus, dear friend,” she cried “Run further back, I need you to do this, no questions asked. We can unite once again and gain victory, but you must run from the area first. Keep Greppun here. I need his help.”
Acolytus hesitated, because he did not want to see her hurt in any way. She was precious to him in every form, but he knew that she knew exactly what to do. Acolytus motioned to the dire wolf, and Greppun ran to Corriatia’s side. Soon enough, he could not resist the urge, and ran towards the ant, who was approaching Corriatia, and Greppun immediately attacked. This gave Corriatia the time she needed to cast the spell she wanted.
“Accedo committo accumulator” Corriatia yelled. Her hands danced quickly in the air and a light golden sphere began to form in her palms. The spheres grew larger and larger until they reached the size of a human head. To orbs sat in her hands. She stopped. Slowly she brought her hands into the sky, still marred in black from the inn’s fire. The golden spheres acted in great contrast to the smoke in the air.
While Corriatia was casting her spell, Greppun was head to head with the giant ant. His first attacks were aimed at the lift center legs of the ant, avoiding the rigid jaws of the enemy. The ant, at first, dismissed its attacks, as it was focused on the female druid casting a spell. Greppun then opened its mouth wide before jutting his mouth into the leg of the ant, causing a geyser of yellow blood to poor from the side. Greppun had ripped the leg right off. The ant went to its hind legs, much like a dog in agony and dropped to the ground on its remaining 7 legs, it turned in a rage at the wolf. The ant brought its head to the ground, acting like a ramp. He pushed his head under the wolf and threw him up in the air. The wolf flew for a few seconds and landed in a thud. Acolytus had been looking at this from afar, and he could only take so much from looking at a distance.
Corriatia now moved her hands forward and the orbs shot outwards towards the cleric, who was a relatively far away, but within reach. The 2 orbs exploded halfway to the cleric, and the explosion caused myriads of tiny insects to pour out in the area of the explosion. Corratia smiled as she realized his spell casting abilities were now quite limited. At this point the ant had disregarded the wolf who made squealing noises of pain, but was otherwise, fine. Corriatia had no time to reach for her weapon for a head on head attack on the ant.
Acolytus knew that Corriatia wanted him out of the immediate area so that he could cast a spell or two before the insect swarm hurt him. Acolytus grabbed his spear and now attempted to assist Corriatia in her battle. Acolytus took advantage of not being effected by the insect swarm. He brought his fists together near his chest, closed his eyes and whispered briefly. Slowly, then quickly he began to glow yellow. The yellow grew from being his aura into his actual form. His body shaped into a different being. Wings formed off of Acolytus and his body shrunk. A mace like tail then formed. His shapechange was complete. Acolytus was now a baby wyvern. Acolytus flew as fast as he could towards Corriatia.
Corriatia had no time to prepare for the Ant’s attack, even with 7 legs, the ant’s anger drove him faster then before. He dragged his head as he ran, ready to catapult Corriatia into the air. He shoveled his head under the legs of Corriatia and flung her high into the air, much like Greppun. She landed awkwardly on her leg, and appeared to be in great pain. The ant approached again, and brought its head up, ready to make the paralyzed Corriatia into its meal. The ant suddenly felt a blunt, spiked weapon gorge into its rear, as the yellow blood again poured out of the insect. Acolytus was flying above the creature and was swinging his poisonous tail. The ant tried desperately to attack the flying foe, but couldn’t reach as Acolytus knew how to dodge in the sky and had the time. Acolytus quickly made another swoop down towards the ant’s back. And again. And again. The ant could do nothing but helplessly struggle. Acolytus waved his tail again for one giant hit on the ant’s head. The ant swung high in the air trying to hit the wyvern, in the sky, but Acolytus flung his tail and made direct contact with the head, sending the ant to its back, where it bled to death and the poison gradually made its way into the blood stream.
“Caw, Caw!” The call of the wild calls you. Are you listening? Do you dare challenge their power? Do you dare invade? Nature will always triumph in the end.
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
Gurdio knelt beside the prone Lilth, his hands lowered to just slightly above the wound in her arm. He examined the open wound, which was letting a wash of blood escape the small body. He blocked out the sounds of battle around him, ignoring any nearby threat, and completly unaware of the imposing Ae'siir charging towards him with insatiable fury borne by his unconsciouse curse, focusing solely on the well being of the elf, regardless of who it was. Without taking his eyes off Lilth, the gnome reached to his side, fumbling for a small vile of liquid. Once grabbing it, he brought it about in front of him, and popped the cork. The pugnent aroma hit his nostrils instantly. He propped Lilth's head up, and placed the edge of the vile to her lips, and let the contents drain into her mouth. Almost instantly the arrow wound within Lilth's arm began to close in a specticle of knitting flesh and mending tissue. The colour of her skin slowly began to come back, and her breathing returned to normal, and gave a satisfied smile to know he had been able to help.
Almost as fast as Lilth's body recovered, a large shadow fell on top of Gurdio. In a panic, unsure of who or what it was, the gnome turned his head, and looked towards the man casting it. His eyes widened in fright as he looked upon the souless image of the enraged elf, foam running from the corners of his mouth, and his weapons gripped so tightly, that the blood had drained from his knuckles. He stood slowly, and backed away as cautiously as he could, Ae'siir never taking his vacant gaze off Gurdio. As he backed away from Lilth, he prepared a series of spells in his mind, anything that would help him. The idea of a simple gnoll illusion sprung to mind, and he quickly murmered the spell under his breath. Ae'siir's body heaved ryhtmatically as he watched the gnome weave his spell, whether he was aware of the ploy or not didn't show. Gurdio finished the spell, and suddenly the image of a large, brutish gnoll came barrelling out from behind the corner of the flaming inn, and towards Ae'siir.
The elf barely flinched. As the apparition came charging towards him, Ae'siir did the same, baring one Kukri forward, the other held back, trailing. He sprang into the air, giving a powerful leap towards the gnoll. As the two neared, it was apparent that even an apparition stood no chance, as the elf didn't both attempt to attack it, instead allowing his body to pass right through, and straight on towards Gurdio. The gnome paniced further, and was about to attempt another spell, but was cut violently short. A sudden, dazzling pain surged through the side of his head, and he saw bright spots, which suddenly faded to black. The gnome sunk to the ground, a large, flat, red mark across the side of his jaw. Ae'siir had misjudged in his rage, and merely struck with the flat of the kukri, rendering Gurdio merely unconscious.
Once Ae'siir landed, his eyes focused on the next target, a paralyzed druid, metres away from where he was. With a throaty cry, he charged forward, his assualt aimed at the nearest living being, his rage trying to sate it's hunger however it could. The druid seemed preoccupied with her own predicment to notice the uncontrollable elf coming her way.
Almost as fast as Lilth's body recovered, a large shadow fell on top of Gurdio. In a panic, unsure of who or what it was, the gnome turned his head, and looked towards the man casting it. His eyes widened in fright as he looked upon the souless image of the enraged elf, foam running from the corners of his mouth, and his weapons gripped so tightly, that the blood had drained from his knuckles. He stood slowly, and backed away as cautiously as he could, Ae'siir never taking his vacant gaze off Gurdio. As he backed away from Lilth, he prepared a series of spells in his mind, anything that would help him. The idea of a simple gnoll illusion sprung to mind, and he quickly murmered the spell under his breath. Ae'siir's body heaved ryhtmatically as he watched the gnome weave his spell, whether he was aware of the ploy or not didn't show. Gurdio finished the spell, and suddenly the image of a large, brutish gnoll came barrelling out from behind the corner of the flaming inn, and towards Ae'siir.
The elf barely flinched. As the apparition came charging towards him, Ae'siir did the same, baring one Kukri forward, the other held back, trailing. He sprang into the air, giving a powerful leap towards the gnoll. As the two neared, it was apparent that even an apparition stood no chance, as the elf didn't both attempt to attack it, instead allowing his body to pass right through, and straight on towards Gurdio. The gnome paniced further, and was about to attempt another spell, but was cut violently short. A sudden, dazzling pain surged through the side of his head, and he saw bright spots, which suddenly faded to black. The gnome sunk to the ground, a large, flat, red mark across the side of his jaw. Ae'siir had misjudged in his rage, and merely struck with the flat of the kukri, rendering Gurdio merely unconscious.
Once Ae'siir landed, his eyes focused on the next target, a paralyzed druid, metres away from where he was. With a throaty cry, he charged forward, his assualt aimed at the nearest living being, his rage trying to sate it's hunger however it could. The druid seemed preoccupied with her own predicment to notice the uncontrollable elf coming her way.
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Rob-hin
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While running towards Gurdio, the cleric suddenly saw Ae'siir coming around the corner of the inn. Though they were both his enemies they started fighting one another, or to put it more correctly; Ae'siir attacked the surprised Gurdio. Somewhat confused by this, the cleric still continued making his way towards them. The fight between the two, supposedly allies, was soon over with and the elf came out victorious leaving Gurdio knocked out on the ground. Ae'siir however, did not seem to have fulfilled his craving for blood and battle and charged on towards a new opponent.
The cleric didn’t like not having complete control over the situation, and the one uncontrolled element here was Ae'siir. He had to be eliminated for him to gain control once again. He changed his direction to intercept Ae'siir in his path.
Ae'siir focused his gaze towards the now powerless Corriatia who lay closest by, until suddenly the cleric placed himself in his line of sight. The cleric dropped his weapons and started casting a spell. He stirred magic energy with his hands and spoke divine words until he felt tiny bites all over his whole body. When he looked down he noticed his body being covered with tiny insects biting him wherever they could. Sweeping them off, he realised he did not have time to cast another spell so he grabbed his weapons and waited for Ae'siir’s first attack.
Ae'siir was now close and took a giant leap towards the cleric; both kukri’s raised high above him. When Ae'siir was close enough, he slashed downwards aiming for the clerics head and shoulder. The first of his kukri’s bounced of the clerics shield; he dodged the second one rather easily by simply stepping aside. As he stepped aside he turned around 360 degrees and swung his mace towards the back of Ae'siir. As Ae'siir landed he rolled on to avoid the cleric’s attack, while still kneeled Ae'siir quickly turned and kicked the cleric’s feet from underneath him. The cleric fell down with a thud, before he had a chance to get up; Ae'siir jumped on top of him. He raised his kukri, ready to deal the final strike when the cleric kicked him of again. As both men stood up to face one another again, the cleric dropped his shield and held his mace with both hands. He swung it above his head and hurled it towards Ae'siir.
As Ae'siir stood up and turned he was too late to see the danger, he had no chance to avoid the mace; it hit him and the guts and knocked him back several feet.
Manically laughing at the top of his longs, the cleric grabbed a dagger and charged towards the temporarily helpless and out of breath elf. He kneeled next to him and raised his dagger, it shot down and planted itself into Ae'siir's chest.
The cleric didn’t like not having complete control over the situation, and the one uncontrolled element here was Ae'siir. He had to be eliminated for him to gain control once again. He changed his direction to intercept Ae'siir in his path.
Ae'siir focused his gaze towards the now powerless Corriatia who lay closest by, until suddenly the cleric placed himself in his line of sight. The cleric dropped his weapons and started casting a spell. He stirred magic energy with his hands and spoke divine words until he felt tiny bites all over his whole body. When he looked down he noticed his body being covered with tiny insects biting him wherever they could. Sweeping them off, he realised he did not have time to cast another spell so he grabbed his weapons and waited for Ae'siir’s first attack.
Ae'siir was now close and took a giant leap towards the cleric; both kukri’s raised high above him. When Ae'siir was close enough, he slashed downwards aiming for the clerics head and shoulder. The first of his kukri’s bounced of the clerics shield; he dodged the second one rather easily by simply stepping aside. As he stepped aside he turned around 360 degrees and swung his mace towards the back of Ae'siir. As Ae'siir landed he rolled on to avoid the cleric’s attack, while still kneeled Ae'siir quickly turned and kicked the cleric’s feet from underneath him. The cleric fell down with a thud, before he had a chance to get up; Ae'siir jumped on top of him. He raised his kukri, ready to deal the final strike when the cleric kicked him of again. As both men stood up to face one another again, the cleric dropped his shield and held his mace with both hands. He swung it above his head and hurled it towards Ae'siir.
As Ae'siir stood up and turned he was too late to see the danger, he had no chance to avoid the mace; it hit him and the guts and knocked him back several feet.
Manically laughing at the top of his longs, the cleric grabbed a dagger and charged towards the temporarily helpless and out of breath elf. He kneeled next to him and raised his dagger, it shot down and planted itself into Ae'siir's chest.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
As the cold steel penetrated through Ae'siir's thin chainmail, the elf's body spasmed slightly. Blood began to run freely, as the knife slid through the skin and bone. Swiftly, though, the clerics look of victory faded into one of dismay, and terror. The crazed elf suddenly bared his teeth, and gave a bellow call. With one hand, Ae'siir dropped a Kukri, and brought it to the cleric's wrist. With a blood lusted smile on Ae'siir's face, he slowly forced the blade out of his chest, and controlled the cleric's hand. The cleric struggled against the inhuman strength of the elf, adding his second hand, and his entire body weight to the attack, trying to force the blade back down. Blood was still flowing, uncontrolled from Ae'siir's wound, but it did little to stymie the rage that coursed through his mind and body. Ae'siir gave one mighty shove, flinging the body of the cleric off of his own, tossing him like a rag doll a few feet away. He then slowly pushed himself up, his vacant eyes instilling even more fear into the heart of the cleric. As he raised himself, Ae'siir grabbed his discarded Kukri, and began to charge the cleric. The cleric hung his head, giving up entirly. He began to mouth the words of prayer, in preparation for death, and his awaited audience with Erythnul. He was never given the chance to finish. Ae'siir came bounding in with an uncontrolled ferocity, both Kukri's finding their mark on the cleric's body, his beserker strength rending both head and limb from the clerics body, and further staining the once green land around the burning inn.
Ae'siir stood haunched over, both arms hanging, as if the wieght of his Kukri's was too much. His body heaved with every breath he took. The assembled group from the Inn, having cleaned out the rest of the clerics men, gave a sigh of relief, both fatigued and confused from the battle. Before many could even catched their breath, though, the enraged elf turned its head back towards the prone druid woman. Giving another loud battle cry, he began his charge towards her.
The healing potion had worked fast, and almost as quickly as she swallowed the bitter liquid, Lilth returned to consciousness. Blinking once, trying to assert her position, she quickly realized what was happening. She heard the loud battle cries, and the fleshy sound of blade meeting body. Her body then sprang up swiftly, and looked towards where Ae'siir had just dispatched the cleric of Erythnul, and as he looked towards another target. Her eyes widened, and she broke out into a sprint.
Ae'siir came bounding in towards the paralyzed druid, the woman trying frantically to remove the impediment from her body. The elf raised his weapons high as he neared. As he was about the stirke, a sudden flash of metal came striking by the elf, rebounding harmlessly off the chainmail, but grabbing the enraged elf's attention. Lilth stood only a few metres away, three more darts held in his hand, she was bretahing heavily, still hurt from the fall. Strands of black hair were tossled about, and lined the edge of her face. Even in the midst of combat, few could deny her appearance. Ae'siir turned his body and began to charge the smaller elf. Lilth did nothing in return, she merely looked him straight in the eye, as if staring down a wild bear. Somewhere from the group of peop,e she heard shouting, trying to disway the enraged elf. Lilth only raised her free hand, silencing them instantly. She made no other move then that, aside from dropping her darts, and opening her arms.
At first, Ae'siir's charge didn't slow, but as he neared her, some form of humanity seemed to return, and his body seemed to shrink in size. Finally, his eyes returned to normal. With the sudden change in stature, his body fumbled, and tripped, sending him sprawling into the open arms of Lilth, who caught him before he hit the ground. Ae'siir's breathing returned to normal, and he calmed considerably, though his chest wound was still severe. Lilth, now that the peril on her was over, now looked pleadingly to the assorted people surrounding them, begging for help with her eyes. She held Ae'siir tightly, willing him to hold on...
Ae'siir stood haunched over, both arms hanging, as if the wieght of his Kukri's was too much. His body heaved with every breath he took. The assembled group from the Inn, having cleaned out the rest of the clerics men, gave a sigh of relief, both fatigued and confused from the battle. Before many could even catched their breath, though, the enraged elf turned its head back towards the prone druid woman. Giving another loud battle cry, he began his charge towards her.
The healing potion had worked fast, and almost as quickly as she swallowed the bitter liquid, Lilth returned to consciousness. Blinking once, trying to assert her position, she quickly realized what was happening. She heard the loud battle cries, and the fleshy sound of blade meeting body. Her body then sprang up swiftly, and looked towards where Ae'siir had just dispatched the cleric of Erythnul, and as he looked towards another target. Her eyes widened, and she broke out into a sprint.
Ae'siir came bounding in towards the paralyzed druid, the woman trying frantically to remove the impediment from her body. The elf raised his weapons high as he neared. As he was about the stirke, a sudden flash of metal came striking by the elf, rebounding harmlessly off the chainmail, but grabbing the enraged elf's attention. Lilth stood only a few metres away, three more darts held in his hand, she was bretahing heavily, still hurt from the fall. Strands of black hair were tossled about, and lined the edge of her face. Even in the midst of combat, few could deny her appearance. Ae'siir turned his body and began to charge the smaller elf. Lilth did nothing in return, she merely looked him straight in the eye, as if staring down a wild bear. Somewhere from the group of peop,e she heard shouting, trying to disway the enraged elf. Lilth only raised her free hand, silencing them instantly. She made no other move then that, aside from dropping her darts, and opening her arms.
At first, Ae'siir's charge didn't slow, but as he neared her, some form of humanity seemed to return, and his body seemed to shrink in size. Finally, his eyes returned to normal. With the sudden change in stature, his body fumbled, and tripped, sending him sprawling into the open arms of Lilth, who caught him before he hit the ground. Ae'siir's breathing returned to normal, and he calmed considerably, though his chest wound was still severe. Lilth, now that the peril on her was over, now looked pleadingly to the assorted people surrounding them, begging for help with her eyes. She held Ae'siir tightly, willing him to hold on...
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Rudar Dimble
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As Gurdio regained consciousness he looked around him. He remembered nothing from the fight that had just taken place. The last thing his memory could recall was for him to wake up in the middle of the night...from then his mind was black.
But his keen gnome sense told him people were in need of his help. As he looked to his right he saw Lilth holding Ae'siir. They were in need of aid, quick.
Although Gurdio has some strange feelings towards Ae'siir (it was like his sub-conscious told him not to trust this Elf to much) he got up his small gnomish feet as quickly as possible. Searching the area he noticed a dead man on the earth near the inn. With his typical cloths and holy symbols the man looked much like a cleric.
"A cleric!", Gurdio's face started to enlighten, "he'll probably have some healing potions with him. May be he hasn't used one of those".
Gurdio walked towards the dead cleric and searched his body. He found one potion with a green, dark liquid. The wizard didn't trust it. He casted a detect magic on it. The liquid lit up. As did the armor of the cleric, but Gurdio didn't have time for that now.
"At least it is something magical", murmured Gurdio.
The next spell to cast was an identify.
It turned out to be a potion of heal. This would fully recover the Elf's strenghts. Gurdio felt relieved, and he ran towards Lilth and her unconscious friend. He tried to administer the potion, trickling the liquid down Ae'siir's throat. It took some patience and determination, but Gurdio managed to get the liquid into the Elf's body.
Almost instantly his wounds started to heal. The Elf's flesh grew back together, closing his wounds. Then Ae'siir regained consciousness.
But his keen gnome sense told him people were in need of his help. As he looked to his right he saw Lilth holding Ae'siir. They were in need of aid, quick.
Although Gurdio has some strange feelings towards Ae'siir (it was like his sub-conscious told him not to trust this Elf to much) he got up his small gnomish feet as quickly as possible. Searching the area he noticed a dead man on the earth near the inn. With his typical cloths and holy symbols the man looked much like a cleric.
"A cleric!", Gurdio's face started to enlighten, "he'll probably have some healing potions with him. May be he hasn't used one of those".
Gurdio walked towards the dead cleric and searched his body. He found one potion with a green, dark liquid. The wizard didn't trust it. He casted a detect magic on it. The liquid lit up. As did the armor of the cleric, but Gurdio didn't have time for that now.
"At least it is something magical", murmured Gurdio.
The next spell to cast was an identify.
It turned out to be a potion of heal. This would fully recover the Elf's strenghts. Gurdio felt relieved, and he ran towards Lilth and her unconscious friend. He tried to administer the potion, trickling the liquid down Ae'siir's throat. It took some patience and determination, but Gurdio managed to get the liquid into the Elf's body.
Almost instantly his wounds started to heal. The Elf's flesh grew back together, closing his wounds. Then Ae'siir regained consciousness.
Broken promises
"They made us many promises,
more than I can remember.
But they kept but one -
They promised to take our land...
and they took it"
Chief Red Cloud
"They made us many promises,
more than I can remember.
But they kept but one -
They promised to take our land...
and they took it"
Chief Red Cloud
Acolytus looked in amazement at the scenario that had just occurred. Acolytus’ mind raced from extreme to extreme as he quietly flapped his wings. His eyes quickly shifted side to side trying to comprehend who was his friend and who was his enemy. Ae’siir’s actions did not pass easily in Acolytus’ mind. He realized the woman he treasures was almost slaughtered by an elf that had posed as an ally to the group. But then again, the cleric that nearly made ends of both Acolytus and Corriatia was slain by that very elf. But all thoughts became secondary as he looked at Corriatia’s appearance. Acolytus flew over to her side without another moment of thought.
Corriatia looked up at the wyvern in flight and said, “Do not worry, my friend. We have triumphed here today, much in thanks to your friends and their efforts. And it matters naught what some members had done prior to disposing of our foe. The fact is, we still breath and still can watch the leaves turn to die and then witness the rebirth again. We still can see the planet’s great wonders. The battle is over.”
Acolytus, listened closely, but insecurities within him still believed that the elf could not be trusted. His eyes turned red with anger as he stared at the elf embracing his love in the distance.
“No, Acolytus. His mind may not be at rest, but now is not the time to take your rage out. You have great strength.“ Corriatia assured Acolytus. “I know you can overcome whatever unsettles you and cope with whatever troubles his mind. Show that strength, Acolytus. Do not fear for me,” Corriatia’s blue eyes seemed to glisten with honesty to Acolytus. Acolytus was so filled with emotion, it made him unable to maintain his flight. He flew down to the ground and folded his wings. His pointed wyvern head stared at the grass as she spoke. “I see these wounds are minor enough to make a full recovery, and this is just temporary paralysis,” Corriatia assured him. “Here, I have a few healing potions. Take them for your travels, my friend. I have my Cure wounds spell ready, and a cure paralysis scroll, that I am confident I can cast. I will be fully recovered in a couple days.” Corriatia then rolled out the scroll and seemed to mumble words that simply washed over Acolytus’ ears as he just tried to comprehend the incidents of the last day.
Corriatia, now able to cast the spell, slowly and gingerly began to rise to her feet. “See? I am fine. Now, return to your friends, and I shall be off. After I recover fully, I need to go continue my life as a mercenary of balance, or a druid for hire, if you will.” Corriatia gently laughed. “Take great care, my friend.”
Acolytus looked longingly at Corriatia, slowly returning to her home. Greppun, who had been quietly tending to his wounds nearby the entire time, looked quite eager to move, but Acolytus was still quietly recovering in his own way and seemed to lack the eagerness or emotional strength to turn back to human form immediately.
Corriatia looked up at the wyvern in flight and said, “Do not worry, my friend. We have triumphed here today, much in thanks to your friends and their efforts. And it matters naught what some members had done prior to disposing of our foe. The fact is, we still breath and still can watch the leaves turn to die and then witness the rebirth again. We still can see the planet’s great wonders. The battle is over.”
Acolytus, listened closely, but insecurities within him still believed that the elf could not be trusted. His eyes turned red with anger as he stared at the elf embracing his love in the distance.
“No, Acolytus. His mind may not be at rest, but now is not the time to take your rage out. You have great strength.“ Corriatia assured Acolytus. “I know you can overcome whatever unsettles you and cope with whatever troubles his mind. Show that strength, Acolytus. Do not fear for me,” Corriatia’s blue eyes seemed to glisten with honesty to Acolytus. Acolytus was so filled with emotion, it made him unable to maintain his flight. He flew down to the ground and folded his wings. His pointed wyvern head stared at the grass as she spoke. “I see these wounds are minor enough to make a full recovery, and this is just temporary paralysis,” Corriatia assured him. “Here, I have a few healing potions. Take them for your travels, my friend. I have my Cure wounds spell ready, and a cure paralysis scroll, that I am confident I can cast. I will be fully recovered in a couple days.” Corriatia then rolled out the scroll and seemed to mumble words that simply washed over Acolytus’ ears as he just tried to comprehend the incidents of the last day.
Corriatia, now able to cast the spell, slowly and gingerly began to rise to her feet. “See? I am fine. Now, return to your friends, and I shall be off. After I recover fully, I need to go continue my life as a mercenary of balance, or a druid for hire, if you will.” Corriatia gently laughed. “Take great care, my friend.”
Acolytus looked longingly at Corriatia, slowly returning to her home. Greppun, who had been quietly tending to his wounds nearby the entire time, looked quite eager to move, but Acolytus was still quietly recovering in his own way and seemed to lack the eagerness or emotional strength to turn back to human form immediately.
“Caw, Caw!” The call of the wild calls you. Are you listening? Do you dare challenge their power? Do you dare invade? Nature will always triumph in the end.
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
[color=sky blue]I know that I die gracefully in vain. I know inside detiorates in pain.[/color]-Razed in Black
The words of a web spell were on Magus’s lips as the cleric charged the gnome Gurdio, who knelt over a prone body, seemingly unaware of the danger fast approaching. They were left unuttered when suddenly the elven man from the tavern, considerably larger than before, dashed up and struck the gnome down, not slowed in the slightest by Gurdio’s hastily cast illusion. Still invisible, Magus’s gaze immediately shifted to the cleric. The man’s confusion and surprise was evident. The two were not in league.
His plan disrupted, and still unsure what was going on, Magus watched the ensuing battle as the cleric assailed the elven man. The human fought wildly, erratically, and it didn’t take long for Magus to realize that the fellow was completely mad. But the elf was puzzling, and unsettling. Like a wild beast he fought, bloodlust gleaming luridly in his eyes as spittle ran down his chin. Some brand of lycanthropy? Magus thought. It wasn’t long before the cleric too fell before the demonic sword-wielder.
The elf, badly wounded and showing signs of fatigue, paused, and Magus realized this was his chance. Suddenly he swooned, barely catching himself as he struggled to stave off unconscious. The smoke and blood loss were catching up with him... Before he could recover the elf sprinted at his next target, a prone druid. He could only watch helplessly as events unfolded before him.
Luckily the elf girl, the one who had approached him before, somehow snapped her partner out of whatever had possessed him. Relieved, Magus looked around. The fighting had stopped. He dismissed his invisibility and started towards the assembled group.
* * * * *
Out of nowhere a haggard-looking Magus appeared thirty meters away, walking unsteadily towards the group. His face was stained deep black, thick crimson blood trickling down from his right eye. In stark contrast was his robe, gleaming a vibrant purple in the light of early dawn, completely untouched by the ordeals of its battered wearer.
Without warning the half-elf wizard stumbled and fell to his knees, coughing heavily.
* * * * *
Wracked by coughing spasms, Magus haltingly pulled a small bottle from his robes. The fit subsiding for the moment, he downed it in one quick gulp. He felt some of his strength return, though he still required the attention of a healer. His hand strayed to his eye, and tentatively he wiped the blood away. He breathed a sigh of relief. His vision was unimpaired, thank Mystra, though the area hurt terribly. Nonetheless, he was well enough for now, and most importantly, alive.
Gingerly he took hold of Celestia and removed her from his pocket. As he did so, he felt a presence in his mind, faint and barely perceptible. With a start, he realized it was Celestia. Though he often wondered if she had already established a degree of empathic connection with him, this was the first time he had actually sensed her himself. It was a remarkable feeling. Highly intrigued by the matter, in the past he had asked colleagues of his to describe what it was like to have an empathic connection with a familiar. The response was always the same. It was indescribable. Driven by an irresistible curiosity, he had finally given in and summoned a familiar to his side. And thus had he met his irrepressible pixie, Celestia.
Lying in his hand, Celestia slowly opened her eyes. Still flushed with elation, Magus idly noted how elegant she looked, like a fair maiden of child’s stories arising from some deep slumber. She caught his gaze and looked away, ashamed. “Cel was scared,” she murmured softly, using the nickname Magus had good-humoredly given her not long ago, after she’d had trouble pronouncing her name. “Hurt master. Hurt him very bad. Cel wanted to help, but she no good. Cel just cause trouble for master.” She sat up, casting her gaze down.
For once, Magus was speechless. He—he had to say something. Bewildered, he grasped for the words he needed. “You—you’ve got it all wrong, Celestia. Cel. If it wasn’t for you…I wouldn’t have made it. I’d still be in that building over there.” He pointed to the tavern, bright tongues of flame leaping from their room's window. On the ground below was a pile of shattered glass. Except for a few drops of blood, the area was otherwise featureless.
Celestia looked up, the question in her eyes. “Cel…saved Magus?” she said tentatively. She began to cough. Magus looked at her concerned. He wondered if he should get out another healing potion. “Cel fine. Just need to get rid of bad air,” she said softly. How did she- Magus began to think, but was interrupted when she looked up again, waiting for a response.
“Cel saved Magus,” he repeated with a nod, smling. Her face brightened a bit, then she looked down again. “Master not angry about his eye?”
Magus scratched his head. “Well…it would have been nice if you could have found some other way. A less painful one, perhaps. But no, I’m not angry.” He sighed and looked at his money purse. “However, it does mean I’m going to have to pay another visit to the Temple of Waukeen in Trademeet. A costly endeavor, to be sure.” He sighed again.
A flash of recognition suddenly lit Celestia’s features, as if she had just remembered something. “What is it?” Magus asked.
Celestia pointed at the people assembled about 20m away, where the young male elf was shakily rising to his feet. “Him. Him and the bad lady. They took master’s favorite ring. Cel try to take it back, but she fell asleep and then it was morning, and it was hot and the air was no good, and…” She trailed off, clearly upset.
Magus patted her head warmly. A look of surprise crossed her small face. “Magus take it back?”
He looked over at the pair of elves, his countenance darkening (if that was at all possible). “Yes. I think I will.” He started to rise, then realized something. He hadn’t even checked to see if the ring was gone! Just what was coming over him? All that smoke must have gone to his head. He looked at his finger, and the bauble was indeed missing. But when? Then he remembered their encounter at the bar the last night. What a fool he’d been. He shook his head. But now was not the time to dwell on the past.
He rose resolvedly and did his best to wipe the soot from his face. Then he walked over to the group. “I believe you have something that belongs to me, lord, lady,” he said, his polite words chilled and to the point. He looked at each of the elven pair in turn, his face a cold, gray mask.
His plan disrupted, and still unsure what was going on, Magus watched the ensuing battle as the cleric assailed the elven man. The human fought wildly, erratically, and it didn’t take long for Magus to realize that the fellow was completely mad. But the elf was puzzling, and unsettling. Like a wild beast he fought, bloodlust gleaming luridly in his eyes as spittle ran down his chin. Some brand of lycanthropy? Magus thought. It wasn’t long before the cleric too fell before the demonic sword-wielder.
The elf, badly wounded and showing signs of fatigue, paused, and Magus realized this was his chance. Suddenly he swooned, barely catching himself as he struggled to stave off unconscious. The smoke and blood loss were catching up with him... Before he could recover the elf sprinted at his next target, a prone druid. He could only watch helplessly as events unfolded before him.
Luckily the elf girl, the one who had approached him before, somehow snapped her partner out of whatever had possessed him. Relieved, Magus looked around. The fighting had stopped. He dismissed his invisibility and started towards the assembled group.
* * * * *
Out of nowhere a haggard-looking Magus appeared thirty meters away, walking unsteadily towards the group. His face was stained deep black, thick crimson blood trickling down from his right eye. In stark contrast was his robe, gleaming a vibrant purple in the light of early dawn, completely untouched by the ordeals of its battered wearer.
Without warning the half-elf wizard stumbled and fell to his knees, coughing heavily.
* * * * *
Wracked by coughing spasms, Magus haltingly pulled a small bottle from his robes. The fit subsiding for the moment, he downed it in one quick gulp. He felt some of his strength return, though he still required the attention of a healer. His hand strayed to his eye, and tentatively he wiped the blood away. He breathed a sigh of relief. His vision was unimpaired, thank Mystra, though the area hurt terribly. Nonetheless, he was well enough for now, and most importantly, alive.
Gingerly he took hold of Celestia and removed her from his pocket. As he did so, he felt a presence in his mind, faint and barely perceptible. With a start, he realized it was Celestia. Though he often wondered if she had already established a degree of empathic connection with him, this was the first time he had actually sensed her himself. It was a remarkable feeling. Highly intrigued by the matter, in the past he had asked colleagues of his to describe what it was like to have an empathic connection with a familiar. The response was always the same. It was indescribable. Driven by an irresistible curiosity, he had finally given in and summoned a familiar to his side. And thus had he met his irrepressible pixie, Celestia.
Lying in his hand, Celestia slowly opened her eyes. Still flushed with elation, Magus idly noted how elegant she looked, like a fair maiden of child’s stories arising from some deep slumber. She caught his gaze and looked away, ashamed. “Cel was scared,” she murmured softly, using the nickname Magus had good-humoredly given her not long ago, after she’d had trouble pronouncing her name. “Hurt master. Hurt him very bad. Cel wanted to help, but she no good. Cel just cause trouble for master.” She sat up, casting her gaze down.
For once, Magus was speechless. He—he had to say something. Bewildered, he grasped for the words he needed. “You—you’ve got it all wrong, Celestia. Cel. If it wasn’t for you…I wouldn’t have made it. I’d still be in that building over there.” He pointed to the tavern, bright tongues of flame leaping from their room's window. On the ground below was a pile of shattered glass. Except for a few drops of blood, the area was otherwise featureless.
Celestia looked up, the question in her eyes. “Cel…saved Magus?” she said tentatively. She began to cough. Magus looked at her concerned. He wondered if he should get out another healing potion. “Cel fine. Just need to get rid of bad air,” she said softly. How did she- Magus began to think, but was interrupted when she looked up again, waiting for a response.
“Cel saved Magus,” he repeated with a nod, smling. Her face brightened a bit, then she looked down again. “Master not angry about his eye?”
Magus scratched his head. “Well…it would have been nice if you could have found some other way. A less painful one, perhaps. But no, I’m not angry.” He sighed and looked at his money purse. “However, it does mean I’m going to have to pay another visit to the Temple of Waukeen in Trademeet. A costly endeavor, to be sure.” He sighed again.
A flash of recognition suddenly lit Celestia’s features, as if she had just remembered something. “What is it?” Magus asked.
Celestia pointed at the people assembled about 20m away, where the young male elf was shakily rising to his feet. “Him. Him and the bad lady. They took master’s favorite ring. Cel try to take it back, but she fell asleep and then it was morning, and it was hot and the air was no good, and…” She trailed off, clearly upset.
Magus patted her head warmly. A look of surprise crossed her small face. “Magus take it back?”
He looked over at the pair of elves, his countenance darkening (if that was at all possible). “Yes. I think I will.” He started to rise, then realized something. He hadn’t even checked to see if the ring was gone! Just what was coming over him? All that smoke must have gone to his head. He looked at his finger, and the bauble was indeed missing. But when? Then he remembered their encounter at the bar the last night. What a fool he’d been. He shook his head. But now was not the time to dwell on the past.
He rose resolvedly and did his best to wipe the soot from his face. Then he walked over to the group. “I believe you have something that belongs to me, lord, lady,” he said, his polite words chilled and to the point. He looked at each of the elven pair in turn, his face a cold, gray mask.
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?