Ancient Domains Of Mystery, forum overview / Stories / The Return of the Heroes(IC)
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F50 Registered user Last page view: 5476 days, 2 hours, 30 minutes and 19 seconds ago. |
Thurgin had been doing some reading. just minor punishment (magic missile) for the time being, he would have to train two more levels before he could go all out on the books without risking them blowing up in a huge fireball. Thurgin grabbed one of Ramirez's new daggers and threw it at a karmic lizard. It missed. "YOU IDIOT!" Ramirez shouted "YOU- Wha.." Thurgin parried a blow for Ramirez. "Always watch your back. You of all people should know that." Tarindil shot down the lizard. The rest of the prisoners were a mediocre challange. Thurgin wondered why they got past the Ogre in the first place. They left the High mountain village and traveled back the way they had came. Thurgin and Lawf'okong planned to identify all of their items as soon as they had a potion of holy water from the altar they had found to bless their scrolls of identify. That night they rested on the fifth level of that dungeon. Thurgin swore he saw the bracelet glow for a moment, so he kept careful watch that night. Tarindil left the camp with a scroll. Ramirez soon got up as well. Gingerly, Thurgin woke Lawf'okong. "Where is Tar-" "ssshhh. Something is *wrong*. He and Ramirez left with a scroll." "If the bread weights that much in the draklor chain, then it's no wonder so many die of starvation. AND - what kind of IRON RATION weights as much as an iron shield?! A dinner for four, oven included? ;)" -Maelstrom |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 51 seconds ago. |
The dwarf and the troll got up quietly and crept off to follow the other two. Jarlgan was left on his own. The orc was lying on his side staring into the darkness. Did they know? No, they couldn’t know... It was impossible. Did they suspect? Why would they suspect? They had no reason to. He’d done it secretly, quietly, quickly. No one could notice. They’d left the town before anyone could realise something was wrong... But then why didn’t he feel safe...? Earlier, when the others were looking for items in the shop, he saw something special. In the back of the store, hidden behind a number of other items, were a pair of shining silver bracers. He knew when he set eyes on them that these were special. When he saw the price tag of over 40,000 gold he knew he had to get them, no matter what. When the others were busy he drank a potion of invisibility, snuck into the shop silently, and retrieved them. He quickly left the shop, and in putting them on his arms he could instantly feel how powerful they were. His whole body felt lither and more vigorous, and a strange feeling of luck came over him. He chuckled to himself, feeling proud as he walked across the town still invisible. Then he noticed, near one edge of the village, what seemed to be a slight fracture in one of the walls. He went up and examined it, and found that with the right pressure the wall swung back into a dark and dank alleyway. He crept in cautiously, peering about. This part of town was obviously decrepit, and stank of mould and decay. Bits of rubbish lined the sides of the alley in small heaps, and he could see rats scurrying about here and there. He turned a corner and suddenly was confronted with an old lady. “Do you seek power?” she said instantly. The orc was shocked. How could this woman see him? He looked her over – she seemed as decrepit as her surroundings. She wore numerous tattered robes piled over each other, and her grimy skin was covered in warts and scars. Her hair was a matte of grey spilling over her head, and in her eyes was an eerie look. “Power,” she repeated. “Is that what you seek?” The orc frowned. “I have no time for your babblings, crone.” He went to push her aside, but she suddenly moved in a blur. She was behind him, pressing a gnarled hand against his shoulder and shoving him against the wall. He turned around but was met with lightning-quick punches to the chest and stomach. He collapsed on the ground, coughing up blood. He looked up at the figure standing above him, suddenly in awe. “Power...” he said. “Yes, I need power. I want to be become stronger. I must become stronger!” The old hag cackled. “Foolish orc, you think only of physical strength. It is your mind that needs more power!” She kicked him in the face and he fell over. Jarlgan growled, but he didn’t dare retaliate. He could feel the bracers he wore working to restore his wounds quickly, but he knew nonetheless that this hag could kill him quickly if she wanted. “Who are you?” he said. “And how can I get more power? Can you give me it?” The woman chuckled. “You are not worthy of the power I bear. I am Gaab’baay! High priestess of Akash’galotherix, and protector of one of the sacred Trinity! Only those who can prove themselves worthy and loyal may possess it! But... I will help you onto the right path. Lowly creature, you must seek out the light and devour it. Let its power become yours. It will be a cursed path you shall walk, but it will lead to the ultimate power. Seek now to expand your mind so that you may fulfil your potential. Then, after you have satisfied the demented one, you may return to me. I will grant you more knowledge, and once you have fully proven your loyalty I shall give to you a great reward.” The orc stood up and humbly nodded. “I will do as you say...” With that he left the strange alleyway and came back to the normality of the town. The potion had worn off now. He looked around – the place seemed almost empty. He could hear some commotion on the other side of the town, but right now he wasn’t interested. He walked up to the Oracle’s chair. The Oracle was an elderly woman sitting on a high chair of pure white marble with her eyes closed, seemingly in deep contemplation. Around her was a moat of clear water, and four marble pillars carved into representations of the elements. He waded through the water, which was about waist high, until he came directly before the Oracle’s seat. “Oracle...” he said. “Can you see my future?” Her eyes opened, but the sockets were hollow apart from a glowing white light deep within. She looked directly at him, and he felt that her gaze penetrated to the very core of his being. “Thou dost walk a dark path. Shadow follows thy every move, and darkness is always in thy thought. Thou shalt rise on the pillar of darkness, soaring above all others in power until thou shalt face the greatest challenge. Then thou shalt lose and suffer the greatest of mortal pains, or thou shalt win and in victory lose everything thou hast ever had in exchange for the ultimate power. But there is hope for another path. The path of light lies always open, if thou does but choose to accept it.” The orc chuckled darkly. “Still hope, eh? Well then, Oracle dear, tell me if you can see your own future.” The Oracle paused for a moment, self-reflecting, and then suddenly stood up and gasped with shock. “A curse on thee!” she screamed in horror. “A curse on any thee who would commit so vile a sin!” The orc laughed and he began to march towards her. The Oracle raised her hands together and with a chant of magic a sudden bright bolt of energy soared from her hands. The orc raised his forearms in front of his face to shield himself, and the magic ray reflected off his shining bracers. The Oracle seemed surprised, and now looked deathly scared as the orc drew his sword and advanced on her. He slashed her across the waist and the blood spilled over the white marble, seeping down and staining the water red. Her screams were drowned out by the sounds of battle on the other side of town. “I curse thee twice!” she cried. “I curse and doom thy every deed! Misfortune shalt follow thy every step, and fate shalt scorn thy every action! Thou shall ever flee thine very shadow, and thou shalt learn to fear the darkness like mortal death!!” Jarlgan grabbed the woman by the hair, and pulling her up he swiped across her neck with his sword. The body slumped to the ground, and the light in her eyes faded out. But he was not done yet. “Seek out the light and devour it” the old crone had said, and aye, he had found the light. Now would come the latter part... He dragged the body off to a back alley and began his task. As he swallowed the Oracle’s flesh he feel new corners of his mind expand. Greater cunning swept through him, and he chuckled with delight as the power of knowledge filled his being. But then a revelation struck him – he was cursed. There was a doom on him. And suddenly he was afraid of the dark... Now he lay shivering, looking into the darkness. In the back of his mind he heard gnashing teeth and his thoughts were haunted by prowling demons. He got up and lit a torch and lay back down again – it was the only way he could feel safe. On their way through the tunnel he’d accidentally set off several traps that came close to seriously injuring him, whilst the others set off none. In battle he found that monsters always targeted him, and were often scoring lucky hits in vital areas. If it were not for his bracers he probably wouldn’t be alive right now. He had to remove this curse somehow, he must find a way to dispel this doom that lay upon him. But how could he change the ways of Fate? He would not go to the gods – he despised them. They were the ones that cursed him from his very birth. And he wouldn’t resort to some treacherous magic. There had to be another way – he would find it whatever the cost. Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds ago. |
As the camp fire dwindled down to a few burning embers, Ramirez walked alongside Tarindil, thoughts of their previous meeting still burning in his mind. What exactly had happened? How come he had awoken to find the elf standing over him? What had he blacked out yet again? The thoughts disturbed him, and he felt a shudder running down his spine causing him to shiver all over. For his part, Tarindil walked steadily beside the human, his eyes flickering to him every so often. The humans face was drawn tight, and it was plain to see that he was struggling to come to terms with a few facts of life. If Tarindil had to guess, he would have presumed that the human knew nothing about the demon that inhabited him, and would probably deny the whole idea as a passing fantasy if he was confronted with it. He would have to play this safe, and hope to somehow outwit the demon whilst keeping the assassin safe from harm. “So, tell me what you know of Alhacrast,” said Tarindil, trying to instigate some sort of conversation and hopefully draw some more information out. “You mentioned you worked for a brief time in the city of the damned?” “Aye, but I didn’t tell you everything. As you may have already guessed, I am an assassin. My skills are many, ranging from murder to torture. But that wasn’t all I was paid to do.” He gulped, forgotten memories resurfacing. “I wasn’t just an assassin. I was HIS assassin. I never met the man himself, but his orders filtered down through the system and I did as ordered. You wouldn’t believe the amount of atrocities I have taken part in. And all in his name. Aye…….all in his cursed name!” He spat on the ground. “Look at me for a moment, and tell me how old you think I am,” asked Ramirez, staring Tarindil in the eye and waiting with his arms crossed. “Going by human aging, I would say you are still relatively young. A mere baby in my terms. Around…….twenty I would guess.” “Wrong. I am almost a hundred. A hundred! Can you believe that elf? I have the body of a young man, fit, healthy, untouched by disease. And yet I am so old. How? I know not. Whether Alhacrast rewarded me with gifts of unnatural aging, or this cursed bracelet has somehow granted me a boon of extra life…..I have no idea. But rest assured, I do intend to find out.” He lapsed once more into silence, and Tarindil didn’t intrude on his thoughts. Almost a hundred? He could scarcely believe it. What dark powers had Alhacrast been blessed with? If he could possibly grant longer life, then maybe cheating death was certainly within his power. The thought frightened him. “Sooo ellff. Have yoouu decipheerreed thhe scroolll yet?” Tarindil gulped as the demons voice reached his ears, and slowly looked up at Ramirez. Gone were the startling blue eyes of the assassin; alive were those deep pulsating red orbs of evil that belonged to the fiend itself. “No, not yet. The answer still eludes me. Give me some more time.” “Tiiimmee? Hah, I haavee all the tiiiimeee in the world mortalll.” Ramirez’ hand snaked out and wrapped itself around Tarindil’s throat. “Soollve the puzzllee ellff. Or I’lll get verrryyy angrryy wiitt….” The demon turned Ramirez’ head suddenly and then gave the elf one last stare of pure malice. With his extra sensitive hearing, the fiend could hear footsteps approaching. He pulled himself back, allowing Ramirez to come forth again. The assassins arm fell from the elfs neck and he shuddered as his mind cleared itself. “What…….not…….again,” whispered Ramirez “Silence human…..we have company…..let none of what has occurred be known.” Thurgin stomped into view, his boots causing echoes to bounce from the walls all around them. His beard bristling, he stared at the two of them as if they were too small school children ready for a scolding. Lawf’okong appeared behind him, tall and imposing with his huge arms crossed in front of his chest. “What is going on here may I ask hmm?” said Thurgin. “Not a thing. Ramirez and I are just getting better acquainted that’s all. I wanted to hear more about his childhood and about Alhacrast, and he was gracious enough to tell me. We moved away from the camp so that we didn’t wake you.” The answer rolled off he elf’s tongue neatly but it didn’t seem to faze the dwarf’s inquisitive mind. “Don’t start playing dumb with me. We know all about the scroll you’re holding. Let me see.” Before the elf could answer, Ramirez sighed. “Fine, you’ve busted us. Here, take a look at this.” He extended his hand to the elf and gave him a questioning stare. The elf started to seethe. What was this stupid human doing? He wasn’t ready to give this up just yet, much less share the information with yet more people. But then he caught a small wink from Ramirez and realised that the assassin wasn’t ready to start letting out information either. “FINE,” said the elf with disgust, hoping his acting skills hadn’t gotten too rusty. He pulled forth a scroll and placed it in the assassins hand. The dwarf and the troll looked at the elf and could see his body trembling in anger. They’d stumbled in on something big here. Still watching the elf, the dwarf and the troll never saw what came next. With a speed of hand that was truly remarkable, Ramirez replaced the scroll he was given with another from his tunic. Tarindil marvelled at his sleight of hand technique, but then figured a man with his backgrounds may have had a need for them. “Here,” said Ramirez. “Take a look.” He gave the scroll to Thurgin, who unravelled it and scanned its contents. “This is a scroll of magic mapping human. Don’t take me for a fool. What’s going on?” Another sigh came from the assassins mouth. “Look if you want the truth, the elf here was helping me to understand the runes ok? I’m not a wizard like our huge troll here, I haven’t spent hours in church libraries like yourself. Things like this don’t come easy to me. I know two languages, human and the underground. That…!” he said, pointing to the scroll “…..is something that I am trying to learn. Ok? Satisified? The human isn’t good at learning magic. Want to rub it in some more?” The outburst took the troll and the dwarf back and the fierce glare that Ramirez gave them warned them not to push further. Rolling the scroll back up, the dwarf handed it back over. “Aye lad, you’re right. I meant no harm.” He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he was willing to be a patient dwarf. “Thank you. Now, since my lesson has been intruded, I feel it should have to be cancelled. I am going for a walk. I’ll be back in the hour, and we’ll leave then.” Spinning on his heel, he held his chin out and strutted off, trying to look as though his ego had been damaged. Tarindil looked at the two of them and then back after the assassin. “I think you’ve hurt his feelings. I’ll go and fetch him back.” He strolled after the assassin and left the two of them standing there. Minutes later, he caught up with Ramirez in a small room. The human was flipping a dagger from hand to hand with a large smile on his face. “Best acting I ever saw, if I do say so myself.” He dug into his tunic again and pulled the scroll out. “You may want this back. Be thankful I just saved us a hell of a lot of arguing. And you just KNOW that troll is going to start trying to teach me things now. I’m in for a bad day I tell you…..” ---- Ladies and Gentlemen, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/18/2007 at 00:37 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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F50 Registered user Last page view: 5476 days, 2 hours, 30 minutes and 19 seconds ago. |
The next morning they ascended to the fourth level of the "unremarkable dungeon". The sound of rushing water filled their ears. Jarlgan flinched. As they set foot on the ice bridge they saw a small contingent of ogres were guarding the bridge. The bridge was wide enough for four ogres to line up upon it. "I can hold two." Thurgin offered. "Just two Dwarf?." scoffed Jarlgan, bracers glinting. "I could hold three a while, but not forever. And don't say you could either." In fact Jarlgan could hold three forever but he decided it was best not to boast. Jarlgan grunted in acquiescence. The ogres would not have lasted long if the main group had not attacked the company from behind. There was a quick desperate struggle, but it was soon resolved and the company held them off. Loli, Lawf'okong, and Tarindil took the main force, while Ramirez, Thurgin, and Jarlgan decimated the sentry contingent. The last of the sentry Ogres were defeated but another enemy loomed into view. While the company would've had small trouble dealing with this terror alone, a tribe of Ogres beckoned for their attention. "If the bread weights that much in the draklor chain, then it's no wonder so many die of starvation. AND - what kind of IRON RATION weights as much as an iron shield?! A dinner for four, oven included? ;)" -Maelstrom |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds ago. |
“Er guys, does anyone feel like taking on a hundred ogres or so?” asked Ramirez with his usual dry wit. He looked around with an inquisitive impish smile on his face. To his left stood Lawf’okong, leaning heavily on his weather beaten wooden quarterstaff; his eyes gazing solemnly at the large ogre tribe from beneath his heavy eyebrows. To his right stood Tarindil and Thurgin. The elf was holding a whispered conversation with his fairy dragon and trying to plan some sort of strategy. Thurgin’s battle axe was in his hand; and his eyes were fixed solidly on his foe. To Ramirez’ front stood Jarlgan. The huge orc was relishing another battle, his muscles were rippling under his jerkin, and his sword pointed out in front of him. Ramirez looked at the all with a small sense of pride. But still wanted to know exactly what their plan of action was. “So seriously……..what are we going to do? We can’t plough through that many creatures. Sheer force of numbers alone will take us down. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want my tombstone to read ‘Here lies Ramirez, he died up an ogres backside.’ Really, it just doesn’t appeal to me.” Lawf’okong straightened up, cracking his spine in the process. “I think I might have an idea. It’s risky, and I mean very risky.” “What’s the plan on wise one of the large point stick?” asked Ramirez, refusing to be intimidated by the entire situation. “Well, actually it revolves around Loli……..” “Loli? What can he do?” asked Thurgin. “Well if I recall correctly. Tarindil mentioned the use of teleportation magic when we were in the mountain village.” Jarlgan made a grunting noise and with one eye kept on the ogres in front, he spoke to the others. “That maybe troll, but even I know that it’s not that simple. We need to be able to control teleportation as well.” Lawf’okong gazed back at Jarlgan with seriousness. “If you washed the dirt from your ears ORC, then you would have heard me say it was risky. I have no way of guaranteeing where you will end up, but it will be somewhere in this immediate vicinity. It’s either that or we die fighting though those ogres. Sure we’ll take a lot of them down, but like Ramirez said, eventually we’d succumb to their numbers.” As the ogres continued to amass, the companions stood quietly, thinking about the hazardous gamble. No one seemed to want to speak first, so Ramirez piped up. “Well we might as well. I’ll even volunteer to go first if you like. Anything to get us moving. Those ogre chaps seem like they’re about to charge soon. So Loli my small chum……do your thing that you do so well.” Loli whispered into Tarindil’s left hear “ShouldIdowhattheywantmaster?” “Might as well Loli. Our prospects here look a little bleak.” The small dragon winged his way over to Ramirez, who stood with his dagger drawn and a carefree expression. Hovering in front of him, Loli shook his body in a certain way and then blinked his eyes. The next thing Ramirez knew, he was standing in an empty corridor. He threw himself to the ground straight away in order to duck any swinging blade that a startled creature was swinging his way. Nothing happened. Peering around, he saw nothing around him and so rose back to his feet. Brushing some dust from his jacket he wondered where exactly he had ended up. Moving down the corridor he came to a room which seemed familiar to him. There was a strange smell in the air, like stale spenseweed and alrunia mixed together. He paused for a moment. “Hmm, this place smells familiar. Let’s see here……..” He looked around the ground for an area of dust. Kneeling over it, he used his finger to draw a crude map. “If I remember, this room was around here, connected to this corridor here which ran down here, round a corner and into another room. Then there was a room with two doors, and the one on the left leads to the stairs that lead up. So technically if I go the opposite way down here, I’ll find the river where I jumped in, with the carrot smelling room down here somewhere and that room where I found these awesome boots over there. A couple of corridors here and that’s about it.” He stood up and beamed down at his crude map. “I’d best leave this here, just in case any of the lads stumble across it. They might find it useful. But as it were, I’d best be on my merry way towards the stairs. At least when I’m there I can attempt to secure the area for the others. ----- Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants and slide on the ice. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/19/2007 at 14:26 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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Cat Lord Lord Registered user Not really Last page view: 5445 days, 4 hours, 5 minutes and 25 seconds ago. |
The orc cursed under his breath and said "You guys go first, I can handle these guys until the dragons finished." The little dragon squeaked something and all of them vanished. A second later the orc noticed he was still there "Bastard! Left me, well, time to die a man." The orc uttered a cry and charged. He plowed through the ogres, until one got a hit at his leg. He fell and knew this was the end. An ogre stood above him, ready to give a killing blow just as a darkness enveloped him. Jarlgan opened his eyes and noticed he wasn't dead, unless hell was filled with darkness. "Darkness, damn how it scares me" he thought. It wasn't a natural fear, as if he knew it would slay him. "Power, you seek power." A voice ran through his mind hurting his ears. "I can give it to you. At a cost... your soul. Serve me, and I can grant you all you wish." The darkness stepped aside as though afraid of a figure in front of him. Draped in black, the figure raised a bony finger and he felt a great gloom leave him while at the same time darkness enveloping him. "What say you? Be my mortal hand and slay all who oppose me, I can grant you power beyond your dreams." A voice seemed to vibrate from the very walls. The orc felt power course through him, but roared and it disappeared. "No, I will own everything. I bow to no one, not even you." The orc rushed at him. The figure raised his hands and screamed in a wail "No mortal shall deny me, feel the wrath of evil!" The orc felt his very essence being torn apart as a light appeared from his bracers. He felt himself being folded, and then nothing. The dwarf stood over the orcs body, thanking the gods for aiding him. "No one deserves to be slain by ogres. I wonder why that damned dragon didn't teleport him with us. " The dwarf suddenly noticed shining bracer beneath Jarlgans shirt. "Odd... how did he get this..." The orc sprung up and had his hand at the dwarfs throat. "What the... how..." and suddenly noticing the dwarf "Sorry, what happened?" The dwarf fell down gasping "*Cough* You're welcome." Homework is not meant for home! It's a sick verbal coincidence! -My brother |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 51 seconds ago. |
Tarindil found himself standing near the bank of a roaring river. He looked around, but nothing seemed to be about. From far off he could hear the war cries of the ogres and the rhythmic beating of heavy drums. The elf put two fingers in his mouth and let out a low whistle. Half a minute later Loli appeared flying upstream. The fairy dragon did a little loop in the air before landing on his master’s shoulder. “Ididn’thaveenoughmagictoteleporteveryoneout.” “Oh,” said the elf in interest. “Who got left behind?” “Justthesmellyorc...” A devious little grin crossed the dragon’s face. The elf chuckled. “What a terrible shame! Here, have some candy, Loli.” He reached into his pack and took out a small chunk of candy – the fairy dragon swallowed it greedily. Tarindil didn’t understand how the others could put up with that filthy creature. He certainly wasn’t going to mourn his loss. “He died bravely fighting those ogres I suppose. Hopefully he managed to fell a few before he got himself killed. Hmm, we should probably try to recover his body at some point – would be a pity to see his equipment go to waste, though it most likely all needs a good wash.” Tarindil left the room then and began exploring his surroundings, but it was not long before he came to a dead end in another room. He searched for a while for any secret doors but found none – this area was cut off completely by the river. He cursed under his breath and looked over at his fairy dragon. “Well, since I haven’t mastered that troll’s ice spell yet my only option is to have you teleport me again.” Loli nodded, and with a little high-pitched chant the elf disappeared. It’s quite usual to find teleportation to be a disconcerting experience. Being instantly transported from one location to the other without any feeling of motion can be upsetting for the mind. What’s more upsetting though is to end up transported to a location filled with raging ogres. Tarindil didn’t take well to this at all. He looked about quickly – they all had their backs to him for now. It seems he’d been teleported to behind wherever this tribe had its camp. He let out a low whistle, but could tell he didn’t have time to wait for the fairy dragon without being noticed. He looked behind him for a way out and saw a door with a key in it. Swiftly slipping through, he took the key and locked the door behind him. Then he looked around, and saw an old ogre wearing strange robes sitting in the middle of the room. The monster looked up in surprise and confusion, but quickly got to its feet. He traced out a sigil in the air with his hands, and with the utterance of a single word he vanished. “Uh-oh...” said the elf. He backed up against the door but could tell he was in extreme danger. There was no other way out – he’d obviously ended up walking straight into their leader’s room. He heard some more magic words, and ducked just in time to avoid a barrage of glowing blue balls. He reached out with his hands and shot webs in the direction the balls had come from. Hearing an angry shout and seeing some of the webs flex under some struggle he took the opportunity to escape back through the door, straight into the tribe of angry ogres. They were looking straight at him now – there was no escaping this. One of the leading ogres let out a rough laugh. “Hur, lookee here lads. We got us some elf-meat tonight!” The others cheered. “Uh, actually...” said Tarindil, thinking fast of a way to buy himself some time. “I’m... not an elf. I’m a frog. A poisonous frog in fact. So, well, you probably shouldn’t eat me.” The ogres looked confused. One of the more knowledgeable ones decided to help out. “’Ere, I ‘eard about ‘em frogs – real bad dey be if yous eats them. My cousin Krug ate five and ‘is skin turned yeller fer a month. Den he died.” The others looked worried – yellow skin was a sign of weakness amongst ogres. “But,” objected the leader. “He dun’t look like no frog.” “Ah, well, I’m in disguise of course! I’m a magic poisonous frog, you see.” The ogre scratched his head, trying to put his thoughts together. “But I ain’t never seen no talking frog.” Tarindil waggled his finger in the air. “Ah-ah, magical frog remember?” The other ogres nodded in agreement – this was quite logical. The knowledgeable one interjected once again. “My other cousin Graff, he met a talkin’ tree once. Told ‘im to burn tings.” The leader considered this information carefully whilst looking the elf over. Something didn’t seem right here... “But what if you’s lying?” he asked. The elf shook his head in disappointment. “Really, I thought you’d understand better than that. Have you ever heard of a frog lying? That’d be ridiculous!” The rest of the gang murmured their agreement. The leader was beginning to feel stupid in front of his men. “All right, all right, so maybe he’s a talkin’ frog. But I still want to see him turn someone’s skin yeller. Club him to death lads and we’ll feed him to ol’ Shizzy!” The others laughed and started to advance on the elf, who was now looking very worried. Then there was sudden flash of pink overhead, and the elf disappeared. “Crikey!” said the leader, looking astonished. “He really were a magic frog!” Tarindil reappeared in a corridor, and he could see down to his left a room containing the upwards stairs. “Phew, that was close...” He let out a whistle again to let Loli know his location and then strolled into the room. Ramirez was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, tossing a spinning dagger into the air and catching it by the handle. He looked up at the sounds of steps approaching. “Took your time,” he said with a smile. “You seen any of the others?” The elf shook his head. “Right... Time to do some scouting then, hopefully we can find them without getting ourselves killed.” Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds ago. |
Between them, Tarindil and Ramirez began the search for the other party members. Neither of them had any idea where the others might be, thanks to the fact that no one in the party had the ability to control where Loli sent them. Side by side, they moved slowly down the corridor adjoining the room with the stairs that led upwards. Loli flew in front of them, his tiny wings humming in the air; his small beady eyes keeping a vigilant watch for any signs of the others. “We’d best not go too far,” noted Tarindil. “Those ogres are down here, and I only just managed to escape.” “How did you do that?” “I convinced them I was a magic frog, and Loli managed to teleport me away.” “A magic frog eh? That’s a new one to me. Tell me magic frog, which direction do you think we should take?” Tarindil looked around the room they were in. One door looked very familiar, the place where the ogres lived. On the far side of the room, another doorway beckoned. He shrugged his shoulders. “Might as well try over there I suppose.” The two of them paced the room, Ramirez casually picking up a gold coin that one of the ogres must have dropped. They opened, entered and shut the door behind them. Ramirez took the lead, the corridor being one that he had previously travelled after his own teleportation trip. “With any luck, my map should be somewhere up here,” he said to Tarindil. “It’s a masterpiece if I do say so myself.” Tarindil raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Up ahead, a light flared and there was an angry roar. “Sounds like trouble froggy,” said Ramirez. “Let’s hop to eh? Maybe its one of our oh so exciting travelling companions to rescue.” Laughing to himself, he ran off down the corridor; stooped low with his daggers drawn. Tarindil followed suit, wondering if, despite the presence of the demon within the assassin, Ramirez was a little insane anyway. Ramirez’ guess proved accurate, and the two of them found Lawf’okong with his back to the wall, spells sizzling from his fingertips and his quarterstaff working overtime. A smaller sentry of ogres had been disturbed by the appearing troll, and had taken exception to it. Of the eight which had previously been on duty, only five were left, but they were piling in on the troll, and the wizard’s power was obviously fading. Acid bolts became small trickles of hissing liquid and his webs tiny strands of cotton as his power left him. With a curse, he decided that he wasn’t going to go down without a fight and re-launched his attack. “Here we come to save the day!” laughed Ramirez joyfully, as he ran into the room and threw himself into the fray with gusto. He sprung up onto the back of one ogre and rammed a dagger into the base of the monsters skull. Blood gushed out and coated the assassin face, who only laughed insanely and carried on stabbing with his dagger. The ogre fell to its knees and then pitched forward. Ramirez rolled off the corpse and then aimed straight for another ogre. Dodging a wild club swing, rolled through the creatures legs and sliced the back of its knees as he did so. Tendons cut, the ogres screamed in pain as it too fell, seeking to stem the blood leaking from its knees and trying to stand back up. Tarindil watched the assassin work and then went into action himself. His blade spun in circles, dropping one monster before it knew what was happening, and then sinking itself into the belly of another. Pulling his blade free, he sprang back as they dying ogre threw a large meaty fist at him, hoping to take the elf with him as he died. Loli attacked the creatures face, toppling the ogre backwards, where it crashed to the ground and roared its death rattle. Seeing help arrive, strength surged through Lawf’okongs long limbs. His staff snaked out, battering the ogre in front of him backwards into the wall. The monster tried to protect itself, but couldn’t block the amount of stinging blows that the troll was throwing at it. It’s hands lowered to protect its gut, and the wizard slammed the staff into the ogre’s head, killing it outright. With the ogres down the four companions (Loli included) took a deep breath. Lawf’okong leaned on his staff and wiped sweat away from his brow. He looked at his companions and noted that Ramirez was coated in blood. With his white hair bristling at all angles, and his eyes wide with bloodlust, he cut a frightening figure, half demonic and rather psychotic. The blood plastered to his face didn’t seem to bother him as he went straight into his favourite pastime – looting. Kicking the ogres who’s legs had been cut, he stole its purse and counted out its contents. Not a large amount but it went into the parties treasury anyway. He took a ring from another, not knowing what it actually did, a small hat which would have barely covered the an ogre’s ear, and a cloak that looked as though it had seen better days. “What a poor haul, makes me wondered why we killed them at all,” he muttered under his breath. “Because our friend here needed our help remember?” said Tarindil, gesturing over to Lawf’okong. “Well yes, that was a side benefit I’ll agree. But they could have had something a bit more worthwhile. They barely had five gold pieces between them.” He stormed off down the corridor towards the sound of a river to wash the bloody from his body. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he was happy to help you,” said Tarindil to Lawf’okong. “Of course he was, as long as he got something for it. It’s in his nature. He doesn’t like to do something for nothing.” “I think you judge him too harshly my friend. He is a good man at heart, just cynical and angry at the world methinks. It’s his way of showing you that he cares. He would never come right out and say it. There needs to be an excuse, and I think there always will be.” “You could be right there,” agreed the wizard. “Hey guys, you’ll never guess what. I’ve found Thurgin and the big bad machine. They’re only on the other side of the damn river aren’t they. I don’t think your little dragon teleported them very far.” ---- Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/21/2007 at 08:25 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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n00b-eMpErOr Registered user Emperor of n00bish Plane Last page view: 6301 days, 18 hours, 14 minutes and 59 seconds ago. |
Thurgin shouted, "C'mon ye big layabouts! Get yer little dragon to teleport us to somewhere a bit more useful! Jarlgan looks like he's seen a ghost!" Jarlgan chuckled,"More powerful than a ghost you dwarf...but hurry up and get over here Loli!" Loli squeaked,"shouldihelpthemmaster?" Tarindil chuckled,"Yes, go over there loli." Loli went and squeaked some words and Thurgin and Jarlgan were back with the rest of the group.Jarlgan grunted,"That went alot better than I expected.Of course Loli was just lucky with her magic." Loli spit water in Jarlgan's face:"smellyorcneedcleanedmethinks"Everyone laughed, including Jarlgan surprisingly.Lawf'okong broke the laughter with,"Well, let's get going.We may be able to leave before night comes.Though I think we should hold a vote about something:Should we go down to where Ramirez claimed there were giant mechanical things or go kill the black druid that Guth'alak told us about?We could use some more equipment and the machines are most likely metal. Thurgin could make us some fine equipment on the forge we saw earlier the other day." |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds ago. |
“I don’t mean to cast a cloud over our victories so far gentleman,” said Ramirez, looking at each of the others in turn. “But let me say that I still think that those mechanical contraptions are still out of our power. Now as you may have gathered, I like to take a risk now and again, but they are always calculated risks. This would be suicide. Sure we might take down a couple. But most of our weapons are going to bounce off their metal skin, with the possible exception of the big bad machine over here.” He gestured to Jarlgan who took a small bow. “Now, instead of getting ahead of ourselves, why don’t we take things easy? That druid back in that tiny little worthless excuse for a hamlet mentioned that one of his order has become corrupt. Now, we could go and sort that fine mess out, and probably return from it slightly more alive than tackling those metal demons down there. Also, we heard rumours of a bandit lord around who is making life a little hard for people. If he’s still around running riot we could look into taking him down a peg or to. And as a last idea, I heard people in Terinyo talking about a bandit town not far from them.” “Ah yes, that would be Lawenilothehl,” jumped in Lawf’okong. “Rumour has it that its run by a powerful crime lord called Hotzenplotz.” “Are you serious?” said Ramirez, his voice taking on a sharp edge. “Deadly. The sheriff of Terinyo was talking about him when we first arrived. Why?” “Well well well. What an interesting turn of events.” “Do you know him lad?” asked Thurgin, thumbing the edge of his axe. “Let’s just say I’m more than acquainted with him. We knew each other a few years ago. I’ve done some work for him, and he in turn did some work for me. He’s a nasty piece of work though. He’d sell his own mother for a gold coin and wouldn’t think twice about disembowling you if you looked at him the wrong way. A true mercenary.” “Sounds familiar doesn’t he?” muttered the troll, casting a scathing look at the assassin. “Don’t start comparing me to that despot. I admit that I like gold, I like to think of myself a hell of a lot and most of all, I’m not the most kindly soul on this earth, but compared to him I’m a saint. Whatever you may think of me, I am not as bad as he is. Now, if this Hotzenplotz is around, I think I might like to drop in and have a little chat with him. With all of you as back up of course. He wouldn’t think twice about removing my organs for jewellery, but with all of us together, he might just be a little more co-operative. Besides, if we hit the bandit town first, we can then make our way to the dungeon where this evil druid chap lives. Plus, I’m pretty certain that there would be some kind of black market in town, so we might even be able to pick up a pretty item or two. And once we have vanquished this druid, we can go and tackle these metal machines with some slightly better equipment, and maybe some new spells in the troll’s repertoire. That sounds like the best course, and most sensible course, of action to me. What do you chaps think?” “I’d be inclined to agree with Ramirez,” said Tarindil. “It’s better to err on the side of caution. Why take a chance when we know we can come back later and deal with this easier. Remember, we’re not talking a game here. It’s our lives that are at risk. And I’d prefer to keep mine intact.” “You’re pretty good on the old strategy front lad. I agree with you. Let’s not be too hasty. We’ve got plenty of time to get things done,” this from the dwarf. Jarlgan spoke next. “Well I’m sure everyone is aware of what I’d rather do,” he said, his low voice rumbling in his chest. “If it were me, I’d be down there hitting things left right and centre until I was the only one left. But I can see the logic in your thinking. I’ll go with whatever is decided.” Finally it was the wizards turn for speak. Ramirez stood back, letting the troll have his say. Whilst he liked to argue with the large troll, and had no doubt that he was of a least equal intelligence if not higher, the trolls wisdom was something that he did not yet possess. “Good points all I think. It would indeed be folly for us to sacrifice our lives needlessly. But I can see Jarlgan’s side as well. Why should we not tackle the enemy? How can we better ourselves if we do not attempt to tackle harder tasks? In truth, we cannot. However, we will have plenty of time in the future to take on more dangerous errands. For now, I’m inclined to agree that caution is the best way to go. We shall head to the bandit town, seek out this Hotzenplotz character, and then move on to deal with the druid. If the bandits are around, we will deal with them as well.” They all nodded in unison. “Plans set them buckos. Let’s move out!” Ramirez was halfway up the stairs before the words were completely out of his mouth. The others hoisted their gear to their shoulders and followed him upwards. They made short of the remaining levels, managing to overcome everything that was in their way; although they had one small scare when a pack of blink dogs appeared in front of them. Lawf’okong and Thurgin remained unscathed due to their lawful nature, but the others had to fight their way out. The blink dogs disappeared to regroup, and then companions fled, but not before Ramirez had scavenged a corpse from the ground. Hoisting it over his shoulders he ran off gleefully shouting ‘DINNER FOR TONIGHT BOYS!” In the wilderness, the group decided to camp for the night, as the stars slowly began to reign over the sky. Seating themselves around a campfire that Jarlgan had quickly constructed they began to all nod off, save the assassin who was busy roasting selected chunks of Blink Dog over the fire. Watching the juices run from the meat caused his mouth to salivate and he had to keep himself from eating the meal almost raw. An hour passed, and the meat was cooked. Noting that the others were asleep, he ate to his hearts content. A feeling shot through his body, one of utter control and self belief. He shook it off, wondering what the hell had just happened. Shrugging his shoulders, he looked at the remains. If he was lucky, he could scrape together enough meat to make another lunch for one of the others. Let no one say he wasn’t completely heartless. If there were leftovers, he’d let others eat as well. He rolled the meat up in some cloth and pushed it into his pack. Stretching out on the ground, he laid his head on his pack and gazed up at the stars. His eyelids closed and he was soon asleep. The sounds of birds singing awoke him the next morning and he sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Looking around he saw that the others were already up and about. So much for sleeping in he thought. Rolling his makeshift bed up, he rose to his feet and then waited for the rest of them to finish their chores. Thurgin tosses some water on the dying embers of the campfire, Tarindil made sure Loli was fed and comfortable and they were set. With a crude map that Lawf’okong had scribbled on the back of an old scroll they set off towards the bandit camp, a little further than Terinyo. Ramirez waltzed into the lead, hands on his packs straps and singing to himself. “I didn’t want to be a shopkeeper anyway……I wanted to be a weaponsmith……Smithing from forge to forge as they melt down precious metals……..Iron! Mithril! Adamantium! The glorious eternium! The smell of bubbling slag, the crash of mighty hammers! With mah best girle by mah side…..we’d sing SING…SING! I’m a weaponsmith and I’m ok, I sleep all night and I forge all day. He’s a weaponsmith and he’s ok, He sleeps all night and forges all day. I melt down ore, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavatory! In midweek I go shopping, And have iron rations for tea! He melts down ore, he eats his lunch, He goes to the lavatory! In midweek he goes shopping, And has iron rations for tea! He’s a weaponsmith and he’s ok, He sleeps all night and forges all day. I make fine weapons, I skip and jump, I like to moisturise my skin, I put on women’s garments, And sit around in inns! He make fine weapons, he skips and jumps, He moisturises his skin, He puts on women’s garments, And sit around in inns…..? He’s a weaponsmith and he’s ok, He sleeps all night and forges all day. I melt down ore, I wear high heels, A garter belt and a slip! I wish I’d been a girlie, Just like my uncle Pip! He melts down ore, he wears high heels, A garter belt and a slip? He wishes what? Eh? POOFTER! I WISH I’D BEEN A GIRRLLLIIEE…..JUUUUUSSTTTT LIKE MYYY UNNNNNNNNNCCCLLLEEEE PIIIIIIIIIIP!” Spinning and dancing in the air, Ramirez landed on the ground with one knee bent. Arms outstretched he sang the last two lines as loud as he could, causing the others to chuckle and shake their heads. He rose up with a huge smile and burst out laughing. Just to keep it going he started to whistle the tune instead, and pretty soon the entire party was whistling away. Hours passed as they continued to navigate the wilderness. Open plains gave way to thick forests. Trees competed with each other for sunlight whilst in the undergrowth; small animals tried their best to avoid the attentions of those beats that occupied the higher echelons of the food chain. There were a great many dirt paths, but the group stuck with the main path that was obviously used by the traders in the area. Eventually they began to notice the trees thinning out, and smoke in the air. “I guess we’re pretty close,” commented the dwarf They followed the mud trail, which widened considerably and then the bandit town came into view. It wasn’t really much of a town, more a ramshackle of buildings. Five of them in fact. The largest stood pretty much in the centre, and another large building stood close by. One building wasn’t a building at all, but an open topped area. Another small building stood next to the larger two and in the distance there was another tiny house. “Right then, I suggest we go and find his nibs. Be on the lookout though. There are all sorts of ruffians here. And I don’t mean to sound high and mighty, but this is my sort of crowd. I know how things work in places like this. Don’t start preaching law and order around or you’re liable to draw a lot of unwanted attention. Got that everyone? Right, let’s go in.” Ramirez walked off, daggers in plain view in his baldric. In the ramshackle hamet, beggars ran to and fro, harassing people for money and crying for food. Bandits and outlaw leaders huddled in groups, organising their next shifty deeds. Assassins and cutpurses loitered in the shadows, ready to spring upon any unfortunate individuals who looked like easy pickings. The group stopped in front of one of the larger buildings and looked around. “What a thoroughly run down and miserable place. A boil on the arse end of the world. Makes you feel alive doesn’t it?” Ramirez beamed, enjoying a setting which he clearly understood and felt comfortable in. “That looks to be some kind of shop. And in a place like this, the goods are liable to be expensive and illegally obtained. But we might as well have a look. Maybe the shopkeeper can point the way to old Hotzy himself.” They filtered into the shop in single file, and were met by a small gnome who had an evil glint in his eye. “State ya business,” he snarled, wondering who the hell this small group of travelling freaks were. “And keep your ‘ands where I can see em. If you want something, look with your eyes, not your fingers.” “Charming fellow isn’t he?” muttered Ramirez to the orc. Jarlgan nodded, fingers fondling the huge sword strapped to his back. “Let’s go and get better acquainted. Leave the more respectable members of our party to do the shopping.” The two of them strolled over to the counter, which was nothing but a small table with a cash box on. Leaning nonchalantly on the desk, Ramirez beckoned for the shopkeeper to come closer. “I do apologise for this large scale intrusion my good fellow. Unfortunately as you can see, some of the other members of my party are not civilised in the ways of the real world.” Ramirez made a small sign in the air and then tapped his right shoulder three times with two of his fingers. Recognising the assassin as a fellow brother of the underworld, the shopkeeper returned the sign. “Might I be able to intrude on your knowledge for a moment or two? I’m looking for Hotzenplotz.” The shopkeeper cracked an ugly grin. “Ah well, you’ve not far to look. The small house just to the right as you leave here, he’s in there with his goons. Two strapping half orc bouncers who he pays to rough up the locals.” “You don’t say?” said Ramirez, stroking his chin. “Unfortunately, he happens to be an old friend of mine. It would be churlish to drop in and not pay him a visit wouldn’t it? What else have we got going on around here?” “Well, over the way, if you look hard enough you’ll find Yergius. He’s the head of the thieves guild here. I’ve got a lot of connections with him, and he keeps me in good business. If you’re looking to…………improve some skills or join up with the thieves……he’s your man. If you see a strange little ratling running around, don’t bear him any malice. That’s Shriek. He’ll sell you keys for a gold. Towards the edge of the town you’ll find Kranf Niest, a doctor of sorts who can tell you all you want to know about healing, for a price that is. Otherwise the rest of the people that make up this town are worthless, nothing but would be bandits, muggers and beggars. Scum of the earth.” “The best kind,” laughed Ramirez. He drew some gold pieces from his pouch and slid them towards the shopkeeper. “My thanks for your information.” “Any time my friend, anytime.” Come back if you need something won’t you? I’ll try my best to give you a fair price.” Ramirez laughed and turned his back. The rest of the party had already left, bar Jarlgan, the items just being too expensive for them right now. Ramirez gestured to the outside with his head, and the big orc followed him out. The group huddled together as Ramirez parted with the information gained. The two lawful’s frowned at the mention of the thieves’ guild, but said nothing. “Right, before we go and knock on Hotzy’s door, I need to go and see someone first.” “You mean the thieves guild?” asked Lawf’okong, with a semi sneer. “Mock all you want troll, but nothing in life is achieved by being a self righteous pompous ass. Real life takes a hell of a lot of survival and you do what you need to do. If this Yergius can provide us with more information, aye and impart some tricks along the way, it’s not something I’m going to let slip by me. By all means, stand outside if you want, but this man is going in.” Not bothering to check if the others were following him, Ramirez strutted off to the building in question and stepped inside. Footsteps behind him caused him to turn his head. Both the elf and the orc had followed, leaving the two high and mighty individuals outside. Ramirez shook his head to himself, but then perked up as he saw who he assumed to be the man himself; Yergius. “Greetings good fellow, might you be Yergius?” The man looked the trio up and down, noticing the dirt and grime smeared all over their clothes and the sharp edges of their weapons. “I might be, I might not,” he answered. “Who’s asking?” “My apologies sir. My name is Ramirez, and assassin by trade. The large battle machine you see behind me is Jarlgan. And the elf is Tarindil. We have come to er……how shall we say……..gather some information?” The man laughed. “For a price my friend. For a price.” Ramirez smiled. “Of course, although to be honest it’s not so much the information I’m after. I can beat that out of Hotzenplotz in a short while. It’s the er…..finer skills I’m looking to acquire. The thief nodded. “Are, looking to join the guild are you?” “You could say that.” “Well then, do you know how to pickpocket?” “I can pick locks well enough, picking pockets however, it’s not my forte I must admit.” “Well then, I’ll show you some tricks and techniques, but to be granted entry into the guild, you’ll need to show me your talents have improved. Pay close attention now.” Yergius demonstrated a few tricks to the trio, who stood back and watched. Half an hour passed, and the trio picked up a number of interesting secrets. Eventually Yergius halted and ushered them all out of the door, telling them to return when their skills had matured. Outside, the troll and the dwarf still waited. The trio sidled over to them. “Well, we’re done in there,” exclaimed Ramirez. “We might as well pop in to see the head honcho himself. I believe the shopkeeper said that his ‘house’ is over there. Let’s go.” He walked off with the others in tow. Not even bothering to knock on the door, he kicked it open and signalled for Jarlgan to stand next to him. “Hotzy my old friend. Are you in?” “Who the hell is that? Munge, go and sort it out,” shouted a voice. Thudded footsteps approached them before a half orc appeared, hugely muscled with a surly look on his face. He looked at Ramirez with his beady eyes and turned his head back towards the inside. “Duhuh……it’s a runty little man boss. Want me to squish him?” “Try it numskull,” said another voice. Munge turned around to see Jarlgan standing next to the human. Easily the same size as the half orc bouncer, he carried a large sword and seemed to handle it with ease. Munge looked around a bit more and then saw the other three standing to one side. “Err…boss……there a lots of em out here.” “Look here my not to smart half orc friend. I know old Hotzy, we go way back. So how about you be a good lad and hold the door open for us ok? Here, I’ll even give you a gold piece.” He fumbled around in his purse and then flicked a coin towards the half orc. “There you go. Now, we’re going in. Don’t stand in the way.” He pushed past the bouncer who was still scratching his head and entered. The others followed in behind him. Inside the hut was rather sparse, bar a few chairs and a couple of tables. Another huge half orc sat on one chair, the wood creaking under his weight. In another, sat a man who’s eyes constantly shifted around. Smartly dressed but with muscles bulging under his shirt, he looked at Ramirez and instantly laughed. “By all the gods, is it really you Ram?” “Aye it is. How’re you doing Hotzy. Look’s like you’ve got a nice little set up here.” “Not to bad. Who’re are your friends?” “Ah yes, sorry about that. Step forward chaps. This is Jarlgan. The dwarf is Thurgin, the troll is Lawf’okong. The elf there is Tarindil, and the small dragon that rests on his shoulder is Loli.” The crime lord made an elaborate gesture with his hand, bidding them all welcome. ------- Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/22/2007 at 08:16 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 51 seconds ago. |
“Well, welcome all to my humble town, a centre for information and many varied services – at a price.” He looked Ramirez up and down. “Why you don’t look like you’ve aged a bit, old friend.” The assassin shrugged. “I keep myself fit.” Hotzenplotz nodded. “Aye, you always did. So, what brings you to these lands?” “Well, ya know... Looking around, finding new ways to line my pockets, learning some new things. And catching up with old friends of course. It’s nice to catch up with old friends, don’t you think?” He stepped forward, his shadow casting across Hotzenplotz’s desk. The crime lord smiled confidently. He could see Ramirez was trying to intimidate him with this group of circus freaks, but he wasn’t so easily unsettled. “Why yes, of course old chap. It’s a great pleasure to see you again. To see you... back on your feet...” He sneered up at Ramirez, who calmly returned a smile. “Well, you know, never one to be kept down me. I always bounce back, and I always hit back harder.” Ramirez was now leaning over the crime lord’s desk, but Hotzenplotz simply stayed seated with his arms crossed, an indignant look on his face. “What are you here for?” he said coldly. Ramirez chuckled. “Some unfinished business of course. It’s a small world you know – funny how easily you can come across old acquaintances. So... who else from the black city is here?” The crime lord shook his head. “Just me. I got tired of spending my time serving in Jak-Nagiur – decided to come find a place where I could make a name for myself. Found this nice little set-up – all it needed was a leader. Well, it needed one after I killed the old guy.” He grinned, but Ramirez was stony-faced for once. “Where’s Alhacrast?” he whispered, so no others could hear. “Eh? Who’s that?” “The dark lord...” he said quietly. The crime lord raised his eyebrow, then glanced over at his two guards. “Grunge, Munge, give us some peace, will you? Ramirez, tell your guys to leave us alone too.” Ramirez nodded towards the others, and they all went outside, leaving the two humans alone. “So how do you know that name?” “I know a lot that you don’t,” said the assassin. Hotzenplotz grunted, but let the remark pass. “I suppose I shouldn’t bother asking how you know he’s here either. Well, I came here as part of his entourage – there were about a hundred of us from the black city. Mostly higher ups, sorcerers and captains, but a few lower down the chain like myself. He was heading west, seemed to be after some item, but I don’t know what myself. Rumours spread round the camp that he was going mad, and speaking to demons every night. Some people started going missing – I think they just deserted, but others said they were being fed to his she-devil. Well, I didn’t feel like hanging around myself, so I left one night. Decided I was sick of servitude, wanted to strike out on my own. That’s when I found this place.” He stretched out his arms with a smile, seemingly proud of the hole he was living in. Ramirez simply shook his head. “And look at yourself now, the lord of a pile of dirt. To think you used to be somebody...” Hotzenplotz’s eyes glowed with rage, and in a lightning fast movement he leapt from his chair, pounded a strong fist into Ramirez’s stomach, grabbed his throat tightly and pressed him hard against the wall. “And what about you, eh?! What have you become?! You used to be the Silent Butcher - every man in the black city slept uneasy for fear of your blade! But you threw it away! Over something so petty! And now you’re a nobody, travelling around with a bunch of inferior races with pathetic thoughts of revenge.” He threw the assassin down onto the ground. “’Cause that’s what you’re after, isn’t it? Revenge against the dark lord, revenge against me, all because of your own stupid disobedience!” The crime lord huffed in rage, but after a moment calmed down a bit. “Why did you ever do it, Ramirez?” The assassin slowly rose from the ground, giving the crime lord a look of pure hate. “You could never understand... But don’t misjudge me. I’m not one to throw my life away stupidly on revenge, though I’ll take what I can get. And I’m not going to forget these scars in a hurry, Hotzy. But more importantly right now I want my money for the Dorelan killings. Revenge can wait.” “Pah! You think I’ll pay you after you let that girl go? No chance... If you want some money then go kill the sheriff in the next town, he’s been bugging me lately. If you’ve no further business then get out of here before I get my bouncers to take you out the hard way.” Ramirez narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond. He didn’t want to end up in a close fight with Hotzenplotz at this stage. The crime lord had taught him a lot about poison in the past, and he knew better than to risk his life so carelessly. “I’ll be back,” said the assassin as he moved towards the door. “Hope you sleep well tonight...” Outside Tarindil was trying to strike up a conversation with Grunge, but it wasn’t working very well. The half-orc was having trouble with the concept of having opinions beyond liking to smash things. “So, do you like mangos?” inquired the elf. “Crush mangers,” replied the bouncer. “Do you like kiwis?” “Crush kee-wees.” “Do you like papayas?” “Crush pappies.” “Hmm, I think I’m beginning to see a pattern here. Have you ever considered entering the fruit smoothie trade?” The door to the building opened, and Ramirez came out rubbing his throat. “All right, I’ve gotten what I wanted for now, but we’ll be back later. Let’s go check out that druid guy.” Grunge and Munge returned back into their leader’s house, where they found Hotzenplotz sitting in a chair thinking things over. “Grunge, I need you to go contact Kranach. I have a job for him.” Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/23/2007 at 09:03 (GMT -5) by Darren Grey] |
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n00b-eMpErOr Registered user Emperor of n00bish Plane Last page view: 6301 days, 18 hours, 14 minutes and 59 seconds ago. |
Around midnight in the outlaw town, a large group of humans, goblins, and kobolds swaggered into town. Their leader, Kranach, had business to do.The large man, followed by his two most loyal raiders, sat in the office of Hotzenplotz, the crime lord.Kranach thought that Hotzenplotz had a hint of fear in his eyes for once. Seeing this, he knew his services were needed. "Kranach, I have a job for you..." "Does it pay?Well?" "You remember the Silent Butcher?" "Yes...but I thought he was banished?" "Well, he's back...here, in the Drakalor Chain!" "Wait, you want ME to kill HIM?" "Not only him, his companions too.He knows much. Too much.For every head you bring me is 1000 gold pieces." "So, where is he?And my group will want a piece of the reward, so make it 1250 and we have a deal." The two men shook hands and Kranach left with a grin on his face.He , Kranach the Raider Lord would be the one to kill Ramirez, the Silent Butcher.... That morning, Lawf'okong woke up first, to the sound of ....silence.He quickly woke up everyone and whispered,"Tis morning yet the birds are not singing, be on your guard." Thurgin led the group as they went back to Terinyo, and Jarlgan pointed out that he felt as if they were being watched. Thurgin chuckled,"C'mon, if they were anything watching us, I would-"He stopped in midsentence as an arrow whizzed by his beard, and Ramirez yelled... |
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F50 Registered user Last page view: 5476 days, 2 hours, 30 minutes and 19 seconds ago. |
The sheriff in Terrinyo had told them that Kranach had only a gang of eight raiders two goblins and four kobolds. It had swelled to over three times that size, perhaps even four times. The company was instantly surrounded by the menacing group. "Loli, Ramirez, Tarindil, get out of here!" commanded Lawf'okong. The frightened Fairy Dragon squeaked in response "yissirrightawaysir!". Loli Ramirez and Tarindil instantly disappeared. Thurgin lashed out at the nearest raiders. "I can't hold them!" Lawf'okong nodded. Thurgin swore and threw himself at Lawf'okong's feet. Jarlgan followed. "SSSSSSSRRRRRRK!" A huge globe of ethereal ice enveloped everything. Eight unlucky raiders, two kobolds and a goblin were frozen to death by the blast. "Surrender or die!" demanded one of the raiders. he wore darker clothing than the rest and obviously better equipment. A burst of water hit him, rusting some of his iron materials. The raider was not amused. Shouts sounded from another region of the forest. "I am Kranach! You will pay for your insolence." "Whose insolence." muttered Jarlgan. Thurgin and Jarlgan were prepared and better able to withstand an onslaught this time around. Kranach's gang was not as skilled or equipped as Thurgin or Jarlgan. Especially Jarlgan. Eighteen fell to acid bolts from Lawf'okong. Ten from Jarlgan and Thurgin. and five to the rest of the company who had been discovered. Kranach himself and a few of his subordinates escaped. "Hah. That was a poor attempt." Ramirez scoffed "If not for Loli you would be dead." Thurgin reminded him. "That first arrow could have hit, Ramirez." Lawf'okong added. Tarindil looted some arrows. Then the company proceeded. "We still don't know what all of this loot does." observed Thurgin. "Well then let's find out." replied Jarlgan. While Lawf'okong was unable to teach Ramriez how to read, he was able to get Ramriez to memorize a scroll of identify. The result was that Ramirez could use scrolls of identify. "Everyone give their equipment to Ramriez. Even identified equipment if we don't know if its blessed or uncursed." said Thurgin. Lawf'okong nodded. Jarlgan gave Ramirez his bracers, Thurgin his rings, Lawf'okong his scrolls. Tarindil was glad they didn't know that the map existed. "If the bread weights that much in the draklor chain, then it's no wonder so many die of starvation. AND - what kind of IRON RATION weights as much as an iron shield?! A dinner for four, oven included? ;)" -Maelstrom |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
“Right guys, you heard the plan. Throw me all your unidentifiables….” Ramirez waited as they all piled their various pieces of equipment up in front of him. Heaping it all together, he stood over it with one hand touching the pile, and read a scroll of identify in his other hand. The items began to glow one by one, until every single piece was shimmering with a white light. Knowledge flared through Ramirez’ brain and his head felt slightly airy. And then in a flash, he felt fine again, but now with the added knowledge of all the items. “Right then buckos. This pair of boots I’ve got on, are seven league boots. This small dagger is a dagger of death, awesome for stamping your authority on someone. That masterwork sword that Jarlgan likes to lug around is a mithril broadsword of mayhem. I also found an axe on our journeys which is a wicked battleaxe, and there is a large shield here as well. This agate ring here is a simple ring of fire resistance. The other two however, are a bit classier. One is a ring of luck, and the other is a ring of teleport control. In the book section we have a spell book of Burning Hands, and a spell book of Calm Monster. Moving onto the scrolls we have two scrolls of uncursing, another scroll of identify, a scroll of increase melee damage and a scroll of defence. Finally we have a wand of acid which doesn’t seem to have more than a couple of charges left and a wand of light. Other than that we have a fluffball, a stick, one piece of mithril ore, two keys, a potion of invisibility, two potions of carrot juice, two blessed potions of water, some booze, some poison, some troll blood and some healing. What a lovely pile of collectables if I do say so myself. Oh, and this thing here, it’s a cloak of protection, and that’s attached to some beautiful fancy clothes and a hood. And Jarlgan, you won’t believe it, but these shining silver braces you found? Well congratulations big man, they’re a legendary item around here. Bracers of War. So there you have it.” Everyone piled in to look at the items, and Jarlgan quickly retrieved his pair of bracers and his broadsword. With his boots going nowhere since they were still on his feet, Ramirez retrieved the dagger of death and then picked up the beautiful fancy clothes and slipped them on. Thurgin took the battleaxe to replace his own, and also hefted the large shield onto his arm. Lawf’okong took both the spellbooks and slipped them into his pack, as well as all the scrolls and potions. Tarindil took the wands and the rings, storing them in safe places around his person. The other pieces were picked up by Ramirez and dropped into various pockets, all bar the sticks which they tossed aside. “Right, now I don’t mean to sound too aggravated, but I wouldn’t mind finding that Kranach bastard and teaching him a lesson. Then I’m going to cut off his damn head and take it back to Hotzy. And when Hotzy asks me what the hell happened, I’m going to cut off his damned head as well.” Ramirez whirled around and stood staring at the troll. “And as for you, you may be the one with the magical powers around here, but COMMAND ME NOTHING. Next time we’re attacked, you just leave me to fend for myself. I don’t need you to tell some little itsy pippy dragon to teleport me away because you think I can’t hold my own. I can hold my own against you, or the dwarf, or the elf or even that hulking brute right there. I’ve dealt in fights my entire life, I can look after myself. So back the hell off or you’ll find out exactly why I was called the Silent Butcher. Remember, one cut from me is all it ever damn well takes.” He stormed off, heading in the general direction of the mountains. The group watched him go until he stopped dead in his tracks and spun around again. “Well, are we going to go and sort this bloody druid or what? Hurry the hell up will you?” ------- Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/23/2007 at 17:13 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 52 seconds ago. |
Tarindil raised an eyebrow at the human's behaviour. Perhaps he could take the complaints more seriously if the man hadn't just put on a pink silken shirt with frills. Beautiful and fancy? Garish and out of date more like... Still, the assassin seemed quite unsettled, and he wondered if there was something bothering him beyond what he was saying. He followed after, slipping the ring of teleport control onto his finger. He'd have to make sure later that the fluff ball ended up in Jarlgan's pack - if he was right about what he thought it was then it had the potential for entertainment. Otherwise he wasn't much interested in the equipment, though he'd have to have a go at reading those spellbooks later. They marched into the east over some hills, where they encountered a group of hill orcs. Ramirez seemed to have some heavy bloodlust on his mind - he ran into them almost greedy to take their lives. One of them looked confused to see Jarlgan amongst the party - a very lethal mistake when faced by a strong orc with a big sword. As their numbers fell some of the orcs tried to flee, but Jarlgan and Ramirez quickly hunted them down and dispatched them. After a while they found the cave that the druid had told them about. Ramirez seemed distracted still and marched ahead of the others, shouting out for monsters to attack them. A curious goblin poked his head around a corner and soon had it lying on the ground, the rest of its body slumping after. They came to a locked door and Ramirez angrily kicked it down. A sudden swarm of rats spewed out, and at their centre stood a four foot high humanoid with white fur and a long muzzle. It screeched in a squeaking voice and more rats scurried out from cracks in the walls. Ramirez grinned and drew two blades. Within seconds he was moving fast between the creatures, stabbing his daggers everywhere. Jarlgan had a bit more trouble - his large sword wasn't suited to killing such small nimble creatures. Instead he dug straight towards the leader, and soon the wererat was split in two. The others joined in, and after a short time all of the vermin were exterminated. They looked at Ramirez with a touch of concern. The human was bathed in sweat, a mad look in his eyes. But he didn't seem to register them. He went straight for the far door, and as he went to open it he could hear something moving behind, and raised his dagger ready to attack. But when he opened the door and saw what was behind his expression suddenly changed dramatically. "Awww. Look at the cute widdle kitty!" A female wild cat was sitting in the middle of the corridor, cleaning itself. She stopped as she noticed Ramirez approach, and hissed as the man bent down to pick her up. Ramirez didn't seem bothered though, and picked up the cat, ignoring the claws that tried to dig into him. He held the helpless cat up in the air. "Aw, you is pwecious isn't you? Let's get some food for our widdle kitty friend." He carried her back into the room and picked up some rat corpses for her to feed on. The wild cat gladly accepted, and soon was purring in delight and licking Ramirez's face. The others looked on in utter shock. "What?!" said the human angrilly, seeing the reaction of the others. "Don't you like cats too?!" The severity of his question made the others jump. They all quickly agreed on his assessment of the creatures. "Great! We'd better keep her then! What should we name her, huh?" Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
Ramirez sat on the cold hard floor, leaning against the wall with the wild cat in his lap. Stroking it constantly, all of his attention was focused towards his new found little friend. The group looked at him sitting down and shook their heads. Lawf’okong signalled to the others and pointed a little way down the corridor. They all nodded and slowly edged away from Ramirez, who didn’t even recognize they had left. Lawf’okong spoke first, his eyes still on the assassin down the passage. “Is it just me? Or is Ramirez giving anyone else the impression that he really is insane? One minute he’s screaming at me, the next minute he’s slaughtering everything he comes across, and now he’s taken a cat into his arms and can’t stop speaking in that ridiculous child’s tongue.” As if to punctuate the trolls words Ramirez started off again ‘Oooh you is so cute, yes you are….you are….I’m going to call you Avril. Isn’t that a pretty name. Avril….awwww” “Now, I’ve no doubt that his bracelet has a lot to do with this, but I don’t think it’s ALL the bracelet. To be honest, I think he was always a little insane anyway,” muttered the dwarf in low tones. “Besides, if he was a high profile murderer before this, then he’s probably seen a lot of nasty things that may play on his mind.” “Well has anyone asked him what the bracelet is?” jumped in Tarindil. “After all we’ve just identified all our equipment. He should have some clue.” “A good thought Tarindil,” said Lawf’okong. “No time like the present. Let’s ask him now while he seems to be in a rather jovial mood.” They all walked back down the corridor again and stood around Ramirez, who had his eyes closed and was still stroking the cat. They looked at each other as to who would broach the subject. No one moved. With a sigh, Tarindil crouched down next to the human and gave him a nudge, “You still with us my friend?” Ramirez opened his eyes and gazed at the elf. “Yes. Just resting my eyes while you lot are talking. What’s wrong?” “Well, we were wondering. When you identified all of our equipment, did you find out anything about your bracelet?” An expression of annoyance flashed across Ramirez’ face ever so briefly, only to be replaced one on of slight sorrow, “Sadly….no. All I know is that it’s cursed. It’s not actually made out of metal, but out of an extremely hard wood that has been coated in some sickly substance. I couldn’t tell you what wood it is, I’ve never seen a tree that is solid black like this. I still can’t take it off, and I’m not about to try. Even a standard scroll of uncursing won’t work on it. I tried that a short while ago before I encountered all of you. Got some priest to start chanting and waving his arms all over it and nothing. It’s not going to come off.” He stood up, and put the cat on the floor next too him. “Oh, and I almost forgot. Do you all remember these herbs that we found in that first dungeon? Well, we’ve got quite a selection here. Morgia roots, stomacemptia, some devils rose, a few pieces of spenseweed and some moss of mareilon. I’m not sure what they all do, but I do know that eating stomacemptia is makes you feel like you haven’t eaten in days. Anyway, the herbs aside. Shouldn’t we better get moving?” Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. |
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Cat Lord Lord Registered user Not really Last page view: 5445 days, 4 hours, 5 minutes and 26 seconds ago. |
"If we get going, should we leave the fluffball here?" the dwarf said motioning to the cat, which was purring softly on Ramirezs' shoulder. The human thought for a second, and nodded and put it down. He walked over and closed and locked both doors after walking out. "Well lads, ready to go?" the orc said "Or do we need to get your mother's permission?" The dwarf walked over and calmly picked up the orc, his large muscles flexing, "What did ye say about my mother?" The dwarf said with his other hand taking out his axe. The orc growled and replied, "You heard me, or do I have to talk in that horrible accent?". The dwarf seemed about to strike the orcs head off when the elf said sarcastically "Gosh, right as we were making progress, can we kill each other later? Like, after we save the world or something?" walking down the corridor. The dwarf glared at the orc but put him down. After a few staircases down with nothing interesting happening, the group was uneasy. After all, what druid of hell would have no guards. As they arrived on the bottom they all felt a sense of forboding. The bard started, "Loli, go sco-" as he was cut off as a stream of acid flushed towards him. He dodged, and the stream hit the next person behind him, Jarlgan. He roared and charged at whatever hit him. A giant slug stood in the doorway and readied for another attack. The orc slashed, but the slugs thick shell protected it. Ramirez threw his phase dagger, which cut clear through the shell. With that out of the way, the dwarf ran up and cleaved it in two. They followed suit, with the bard in front and the fairy dragon in front. With the creature felled all were panting except Jarlgan. He had a puzzled expression on his face, and then walked up and cut a piece of the slug. After eating it, he fell over and was writhing on the ground. His stomach made a odd sound, a cross between a parrot's squawk and a slurp. The group huddled over him, and after a few moments the orc got back up. "No ordinary slug, the druid probably tainted it somehow, tasted like crap too.". The bard looked at it for a second, thinking about what it was, then turned away and gagged. How anyone could eat that was beyond him. After he felt better, the party continued. They met little resistance, although it was only animals. As they rounded a corner, a lion jumped and clawed the dwarf. He cursed, and was about to slice it in two when the human walked over and gave it a rat corpse. It looked half rotten, but the lion ate it anyway. The human walked over to pet it, but the lion bit him "What the... damn druid. No animal would do that." The party continued until they came to a large room. Along the sides of the room were animal carcasses. Blood dripped from the ceiling where a bear head hung. In the center sat a large throne. Upon it a sat a black-haired Abomination. Draped upon him were various animal skins. Upon his head sat a corpse sewn from animal scalps, and the jewels were made from eyes. He stood up and smiled. When he smiled, you could truly see how ugly his face was. It had many scars, a prominent one running from his eye to his chin. "Welcome to my abode. My name is Keethrax. Sorry, but I am currently re-decorating." the man said motioning to the walls all around him, and the floor beneath him which was a lion carpet. The dwarflaughed and spat, "Redocorating with corpses eh? Interesting, I bet the druids make you theircheif interior decorator. Oh wait, you left them many years ago. Something about you trying to rule the world." Keethrax stiffened at this and roared, "I suppose Guth'alak sent you. That fool was once my mentor. We could have ruled the world, but he spurned his gift. He gained knowledge, when he should have gained power. He taught me much, but I am now his superior.Death to all who oppose me!" He whistled, and two cave bears came out from a corridor in the back. They had scars all over their body, and most of their hair was gone. At this, the bard bubbled into a rage. All his life animals had treated him well, and never wronged him. As long as he continued to respect them they would. This man, if you could call him that, took that trust and abused it. Just by looking at the bears he could tell they should be long dead by now. All that was keeping them there was black magic, and thus they could never be destroyed, only released. He charged, his sword raised. His fairy dragon cowered on his shoulder. Keethrax looked at him, and raised a finger. Instantly the bard was thrown into the air. The druid raised his other hand and and black spheres erupted from his hands. The bard screamed in agony and felt his life slipping away. Ramirez muttered a curse against all elves and threw his dagger. It struck true, and Keethrax stopped his incantation. Tharandil fell to the ground, unconscious. Keethrax muttered a few words and the dagger fell away, the blood staunched. He turned to Ramirez and cackled. He muttered a few words and both his and Jarlgans bracers started glowing. The demon inside Ramirez seemed more powerful then Keethrax, and so he felt nothing. Jarlgan on the other hand, felt a great rage take hold of him. He walked over to Keethrax and bowed. The druid said "Kill them." The orc turned around, and smiled wickedly. Homework is not meant for home! It's a sick verbal coincidence! -My brother |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 52 seconds ago. |
“What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing, Jarlgan?!” Ramirez shouted. The two bears began lumbering after him and he backed off slowly. The orc kept grinning and began to step forward too, whilst the black druid sat smugly on his throne, enjoying the show. “You have no power, Ramirez” said the orc. “I will show you what real power is. The power of Chaos...” The human looked shocked to hear such words, and looking closely at the fighter he could see that his eyes had turned completely black. “Ramirez, it is no use,” said Lawf’okong in his deep, wise voice. “Keethrax has put some enchantment on him, tapping into his mind and bringing out his very darkest, blackest side. I will try to break the druid’s grip, though it will be hard. I’m sorry to say this, but if I cannot succeed then we will have no choice but to kill our companion.” Ramirez narrowed his eyes and nodded, and then glanced over in alarm as he saw one of the bears heading towards the stricken elf. Loli was standing over his master looking very scared. “staybackstaybackstayback!” he squeaked, and in desperation sent a plume of water squirting into the bear’s face. The creature raised itself on its hind legs and roared, before crashing back down and advancing quickly towards the fairy dragon. Ramirez came dashing in, and with a quick swipe cut his blade across the bear’s throat. It fell over, dark blood spilling onto the ground and staining the lion-skin rug. The human rushed to help Tarindil, but stopped when he heard a growl from the fallen bear. He turned around stunned – the creature was pulling itself back to its feet, the wound quickly closing up. Over to the side he could see Thurgin struggling to defend against the orc’s attacks, and the troll was uttering a deep sonorous chant. Keethrax laughed darkly, and with the sound of some magic words the room went black. Ramirez fell down on the ground, groping for the elf’s body. He found it and dragged it back a safe distance, then fumbled blindly in his pack for his herbs. Bright blue balls lit up the room briefly and he could hear the troll grunt nearby. Then there was a momentous flash of light from the troll’s hands and the room was lit again. Lawf’okong continued his sonorous chant and the black druid gripped his throne tightly, his face set in stern concentration. The two were locked in a magic duel, and the air between them seemed to shiver with energy. With some light finally available Ramirez quickly fished out some spenseweed from his bag. He chewed it softly in his mouth and then spat it out on into his hands and rubbed it on the elf’s wounded chest. The cuts and bruises quickly faded. “Sarina!” the elf screamed, as his eyes suddenly opening. “This is no time to call for women!” shouted Ramirez over the sounds of clashing metal behind him. “Get up and help us fight!” He spun round to face the bear that was coming towards them. The elf shook his head, trying to get rid of the sensation that he’d been falling a great distance. He picked himself up, and Loli hopped up onto his shoulder, holding his wings over his face in fear. The room was filled with loud words of magic. The black druid was now standing up, screaming incantations, whilst the troll continued a chant as deep as the roots of mountains. The room flashed dark, then light, then dark again, as the two mages struggled for control. Blue balls of energy flashed from Keethrax’s fingers, flying across the room and burying themselves in the troll’s chest. But Lawf’okong stood firm, and loudened his chanting. A burst of acid leapt from his hands, splashing across the second bear and streaming into the druid. The room lit up again, and the earth beneath their feet seemed to tremble under the strain of the magical exchange. Meanwhile Thurgin was having a lot of trouble dealing with the orc’s attacks. As defensively as he fought the strong fighter still managed to get several hits in painful places. He saw the second bear coming towards them and knew he had no choice left. “Well, Jarlgan, I’m left with only one option now. Time to meet your maker.” He changed his stance, and gripping his weapon tightly he charged the orc. His axe swiped across the fighter’s right leg, tearing open the tendons, then swung upwards towards the head. But Jarlgan blocked with his left arm, the blade sparking as it bounced off his silver bracers. The dwarf struggled with the powerful recoil, and the orc took the opportunity to bury his blade into the paladin’s abdomen, piercing through the thick metal armour. Thurgin staggered backwards before falling on his knees. Blood was flowing fast from the wound and his vision was blurring. He could dimly make out the orc coming towards him, red dripping from the tip of his sword. He felt light-headed, and as he slowly slumped towards the floor he mumbled a quiet prayer to Morodwyn. All went white. “MORTAL,” came a booming voice in his mind. He was floating in white light and a warm purity seemed to surround him. “Father?” he asked, his mind dazed and confused. “I AM THY MAKER, THE ONE THAT CAST THEE FROM THE BONES OF THE EARTH. MY IRON IS IN THY BLOOD, MY FIRE IS IN THY HEART. I HAVE SMELTED THEE FOR A PURPOSE. I WILL FORGE THEE INTO A WEAPON OF LIGHT, AND THOU SHALT CUT THROUGH THE DARKEST DEPTHS OF THE EARTH. ARISE NOW, MY WARRIOR! SEND BACK THE DARKNESS TO WHENCE IT CAME!” Thurgin awoke with a shock, his wounds fully healed. He heard a noise above him and rolled over quickly to avoid the orc’s attack. Rising swiftly he picked his axe from the ground, and feeling a new vigour in his veins he charged at the orc screaming a dwarven war cry. With a jump he left a nasty score across the fighter’s face, and swiping low he cut deep into the left foot. Jarlgan tried to counter, but the paladin simply bashed the sword away with his shield. Then, slashing upwards, the dwarf’s axe cut cruelly through the orc’s chest, and the fighter fell over, blood spilling everywhere. Ramirez looked over as he cut down one of the bears for the third time. He couldn’t believe Jarlgan had fallen. He was fed up of the people around him dying. The bear at his feet growled again and he kicked it in the muzzle. “Just die already, you damned mammal!” He turned an angry look to the black druid. “You’ll pay for this you cursed worm!!” But Keethrax wasn’t paying attention. He was struggling in his battle with Lawf’okong, the troll clearly having more physical stamina. He let out a chant and his wounds healed, and followed it up with another barrage of magic balls against his opponent. The troll was having trouble himself. He was tough, but there was only so much he could take. Also he was running low on magical reserves. If he didn’t beat the druid soon then they would be left with little magical defence against him. Tarindil stringed an arrow on his bow and let it fly towards the druid, but it bounced off a collar of twisted black metal around the human’s throat. “Ramirez!” he called out. “You and Thurgin take on the druid, I’ll deal with these bears!” Ramirez frowned in confusion, but nodded in agreement. He advanced towards the throne, the dwarf marching shortly behind him. The elf looked at the pitiful creatures that were enslaved to the druid’s disgusting black magic. But he knew a way to help them, at least temporarily, until they could slay this accursed man and free their souls. He unslung one of his mandolins, and as the bears came towards him he began to play. He sung a song, a beautiful elven tune about the wild woods, the high mountains, the deep forests and the beauty of nature. The bears paused listening, not understanding the words but feeling the meaning of the song reach deep into the core of their being. They let out low, sad moans, and crawling over to the elf they began whimpering at his feet. Tarindil bent down, petting the poor creatures and whispering something in their ears. They raised themselves on their paws, and turning around to face the druid they snarled. With a flash of bright energy Ramirez was thrown back from the black druid before he ever got to swing his daggers, crashing heavily into the dwarf behind him. Keethrax sent a barrage of glowing balls raining down, and the two of them screamed out in pain. Then he saw the bears advancing quickly towards him, and muttered in anger. “Stupid, worthless animals...” He raised his hands as they got close and with a chant of black magic the heads of each bear flew off, the bodies crashing heavily down, their blood dripping over the base of his throne. Ramirez picked himself up and looked viciously at the black druid. “It’s over, Keethrax! Your magic can’t protect you for long. Your slaves are dead, and you’re next.” The black druid scowled, and with a low chant the room went dark. “I will not be defeated!” he proclaimed, though there was doubt on the edge of his voice. Lawf’okong tried to concentrate to cast the Light spell, but his thoughts faded out and he collapsed. He was utterly spent and badly wounded, and a terrible hunger was gnawing at his stomach. “And I...” came a low guttural voice through the darkness. “It is not.... my fate... to die yet....” Tarindil took out a wand, and with an elven cry the room came light again. He gasped as he saw who had spoken. “You cannot kill me yet,” said Jarlgan as he slowly arose. His bracers were shining with a soft silver light, and the deep gash across his chest was slowly healing. “I will not die before I attain the highest power!” Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/24/2007 at 16:24 (GMT -5) by Darren Grey] |
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nOOb-mAsTeR Registered user Master of all things nOOby!!! Last page view: 5764 days, 1 hour and 10 seconds ago. |
Lawf'okong looked up at Jarlgan,thinking....until it struck him!"Jarlgan, do you desire the highest power?!?!"Jarlgan's eyes had dimmed to a dark grey now, focusing his attention on Lawf'okong's words.Lawf'okong continued,"Slay the druid, and eat his corpse if you wish for power!!!" Jarlgan's mind was racing,"Wait, I ate the oracle's corpse, and I am more powerful..." He screamed at the druid,"DIE!!!!!"as his blade swept down through Keethrax's head, saving Ramirez from a final spell. Jarlgan stood over the corpse, grabbing the necklace and put it on....he could feel the power...but not enough...so he devoured the corpse...and an unatural vigor spread through his body, which made him feel good, he remembered his ancestors...but the last feeling was BAD. His hands all of a sudden had poison dripping from them! He looked around him with an astonished look on his face.Was this the price of power? Maybe the troll had been right all along.... Jarlgan ran over to Lawf'okong, laying on the ground in a huge slump as all the cats rushed to Ramirez, licking his wounds. Jarlgan pleaded,"Lawf'okong, heal this corruption! My hands are soaked in the evil I've become!" Lawf'okong whispered,"You desired power, thus you hath payed thy price for it..." as he passed out.Jarlgan felt a wave of anger come over him and knew what he must do... "You try to give Fang, the large dog the bone. Fang, the large dog says,"Do you know who I am, mortal?!?!" My smartest dog ever:D |
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Cat Lord Lord Registered user Not really Last page view: 5445 days, 4 hours, 5 minutes and 26 seconds ago. |
"Power... it has a price." Looking at his hands, the orc shuddered, "I must cure this. Chaos, it isn't power. Life, death, there is no difference. Balance is the only real way for life." The orc roared, and thrust his sword into the ground with all his might. "I need to find someone to tell me why all this is. I need to find Khelvestar. He will know." The dwarf nodded and laughed, "One minute you're killing us, the next you're saying you are coming with us to find a man long since dead." The bard shook his head and replied, "Who says he's dead? He came here a year or so back, and spent some time in the village. Then he headed east. If we want to find him, thats our best bet." The dwarf held his hands up, "Yeah, this guy attacked us and we just let him back in. We even leave his sword with him, to hack us up." The orc nodded and replied "Very well, here you go, I don't care anymore." the orc said picking up his sword and tossing it to the dwarf. "Take it, don't come to me when we all die." the orc said looking seemingly far away. Ramirez sighed and picked up the sword, "We do need his help. Just... don't kill us..." The bard shrugged "Now, if we are done playing around, can we go back to down? And burn this place to hell?". Ramirez nodded and said, "I'd like nothing more, but Sir weighs alot just happens not to be awake. I don't think anyone here could lift him, or everyone." At this the troll stirred. Homework is not meant for home! It's a sick verbal coincidence! -My brother |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
The troll’s huge form moved ever so slightly and a low guttural groan escaped from his blood caked lips. The dwarf was crouching over him instantly, concern registered on his face. Dark red cruor leaked from his chest, and as good as the dwarf’s skills were, he was unable to stem the tide of crimson. Using his large hands, he held the wound down to stop the bleeding and then looked at the others. “We need some bandages or something or he’s not going to make it. Those balls the druid was tossing at him have smashed his chest open. What’ve we got?” “No bandages that’s for sure,” muttered Ramirez, wondering if their luck could get any worse. First they have an orc who tries to kill them, then who gets warped by chaos, and now the troll is on the verge of death.” “WELL GET SOMETHING THEN!” roared the dwarf. “INSTEAD OF SPECIALISING IN KILLING PEOPLE, WHY DON’T YOU TRY SAVING THEM FOR ONCE?” Ramirez stepped back under the verbal onslaught. How dare this sorry specimen of a dwarf talk like that to him? A sarcastic remark was about to escape his mouth when the elf pushed him back and shook his head. Still fuming, Ramirez looked at Tarindil. “What? YOU WANT TO SAY SOMETHING NOW?” “Yes actually. You can save this argument until a later time, right now we need to save the troll. You know our inventory more than us, have we got something?” “FOR THE LAST TIME WE DON’T HAVE ANY BANDAGES! WHAT PART OF ‘NO BANDAGES’ DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND?” He spun away and screamed in annoyance, his fists clenching tight and the muscles becoming taut on his neck. And then suddenly, as quick as his bad temper had come on; he calmed down. Before the others could say anything, he was ripping off his shirt. Head still trembling in suppressed anger, he started to rip the shirt into strips. With the last strand of fibre broken, he tossed the makeshift dressing to the dwarf, who said immediately started to bind the troll’s wounds. Lawf’okong groaned, but still didn’t say anything. “Oh, and since it seems that I’m having to do all the thinking around here, why don’t you see if you can get that potion of healing down his ugly face. But first I’d pour some of that blessed water we’ve got onto them, so that they heal him a little bit more. THEN I’d take that ring of luck that the elf has got in one of his pockets and slip it on his finger to try and get some good karma our way. Of course, they’re only suggestions. I’m a psychotic nut case, what do I know?” He took a few steps backwards, wrapping his arms around his chest in order to stave off the cold. As the dwarf blessed the healing potions and dribbled them into the wizard’s mouth, and Tarindil slipped the ring of luck onto the wizard’s finger, Ramirez took a look around the druid’s lair in order to keep himself occupied. There was little of the diviner’s corpse left, only his robes and his head (which Jarlgan had tossed aside as uneatable). Ignoring these for now, Ramirez looked around the throne, sitting in it to see how it felt, and then looking at how it was constructed. It stood a couple of metres high, carved out of solid black marble. On the black market such an item like this would fetch thousands of hold pieces, although even with their strength combined they would not be able to carry it out of the dungeon. In anger at missing out on some gold, the assassin kicked the chair and was surprised when no pain ran up his foot. Crouching down, he looked at where his kick struck and noticed that a small portion of the side of the chair was in fact covered over with a thin layer of wood which had been cunningly painted to look like marble. His eyes sparkled in anticipation and hope at what he might find, so he was naturally disappointed when all he pulled out was a bright yellow potion and a thick girdle. “So much for a secret treasure stash,” the human thought to himself. “What’ve you got there?” asked a voice, and Ramirez turned his head to look at its source. The elf was standing a few yards from him, peering down at the hidden side panel. “Well I was hoping for mountains of gold, but all I’ve found is this bright yellow potion and a thick girdle.” Ramirez stood up, brushing the dust from his knees. “Some clothes would also be nice as well now. Honestly, this is all too much. First a chap finds a delightful outfit which introduces some class to the world, and then it has to be ripped apart in order to save someone’s life. How I’m going to survive with all of you is a mystery. I’m taking this girdle in compensation for my clothes. Here, have a potion of some sort.” He tossed it to the elf; who caught the bottle and held it up to the light of a burning torch. The liquid inside was indeed yellow, although it seemed to be grainy and with a bit more substance than just a liquid. Shrugging his shoulders, the elf slipped the potion into a pocket and raised a hand up to stroke Loli. Together, he and Ramirez turned to look at the dwarf who was still administering to the troll. Lawf’okong was now awake, although how connected to the world of reality he was, no one knew. His voice was exceedingly weak, and a cold sweat was forming on his brow. Thick fingers fondled for his staff, which he dragged close to him before lapsing into a deep sleep. The dwarf stood up from beside his charged and looked at the others. “He’s not going to be able to walk. We’re going to have to carry him back to the village. And then I think we might need to take a couple of day’s rest, to allow him time to heal. Although how we’re going to carry him is a bit of a mystery. After all, he weighs as much as the rest of us put together almost.” “Why don’t you use the bear skin rug?” Ramirez, Thurgin and Tarindil all turned to look at Jarlgan who still had a faraway look on his eyes. Fluid kept dripping from the pores in his hands, and his forehead now looked more prominent than before, sloping dramatically. He pushed himself to his feet and flexed his muscles. “You know, that’s not bad idea,” commented the dwarf. “Let’s get the big fellow onto the rug then, we can each take a corner then.” Ramirez looped the girdle around his waist and leant over to help pick up the troll. Heaving himself upwards, he gasped out loud. “What’s wrong?” said the elf almost instantly. “He……..he weighs practically nothing!” “You are kidding me aren’t you,” the elf grunted back. “My back feels like its about to snap in two.” ”Aye, mine to elf,” growled the dwarf. “What games are you playing now Ramirez?” “Seriously, he feels so light it’s untrue. Hold on a second, let’s get him on the rug and then I need to try something.” The four of them tottered slowly over to the bear skin and then lowered the troll down gently. Lawf’okong muttered something in the language of magic under his breath and a missile shot out from his fingertips, only to strike the wall and bounce off. The four of them threw themselves to the ground and covered their heads. The bolt fizzled and they all looked up in trepidation. “Bloody hell. Even unconscious he doesn’t like me,” muttered the assassin. “Anyway, I need to try something.” He stooped down low and pushed both of his arms under the trolls large body. Thinking he was slightly mad to even try such a feat, he rolled his eyes and then pushed upwards with his legs. The troll lifted off the ground with relative ease, although Ramirez stumbled due to the awkward balance. Lowering the troll down, he readjusted his starting position and then tried again. The balance was still rather unwieldy, but it was better than before. “What have you done to yourself human?” asked Jarlgan. “Made a pact with the demon inside of you?” “Eh? Demon inside of me? Don’t be absurd orc. And even if there were a demon inside of me, it would still pale in comparison to the atrocities you were previously so happy to succumb to. So shut your yap and concentrate on your job. You used to be a lot nicer when you weren’t on some hell bent trail of death and power.” Jarlgan turned his head away, sadness overwhelming the large creature at the sins he had already committed. “Anyway, I’m going to make a prediction here, and guess that this girdle has something to do with it. I feel as though I can carry practically anything. Thurgin old boy, hop on will you? Let’s see how much I can hold.” “Don’t start getting cocky lad,” said the dwarf. “You’ve still got to carry him to the top of the dungeon now. And since you’re so fond of carrying things,” he stomped over to the throne and grabbed the druids head by its hair, “You can carry this with you as well.” He tossed the head onto the rug alongside the troll. “And pray tell me good dwarf, why we need such a ghastly object to accompany us on our travels?” enquired the assassin. “Simple. If we just rolled up in Terinyo, do you think Guth’Alak is just going to believe we’ve done the job for him? I doubt it. This head is the proof that we’ve taken Keethrax down.” “Fair enough, let’s roll on then.” Jarlgan took the lead after some words were exchanged with the others. None of them seemed too happy about having the orc behind them at all. Thurgin took up the rear, whilst Ramirez and Tarindil occupied the centre. It took them some time, as monsters seemed desperate to hinder their advances. Jarlgan had demanded his sword back if he was to lead the party out, and the rest of them reluctantly agreed. Creatures fell howling as the large orc set about them with gusto, eager to escape the grim depths of the dungeon. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/25/2007 at 06:23 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 52 seconds ago. |
“I have something to show you, Nomaeis.” The elf looked over at his human friend as he took out a small black box and opened it. Inside was ring of slender white metal, with two blue sapphires and a brilliant diamond set in it. “Why, that’s mithril if I’m not mistaken. That must have cost you a small fortune!” He chuckled. “Aye, a bit... But nothing is too dear for her. Do you think she’ll like it?” Tarindil’s eyes widened in shock. “You mean... you plan to?” The man nodded and smiled. “I already have her father’s approval. My only concern is that it is not worthy of her beauty. But you know her better than anyone else... What do you think?” The elf smiled confidently. “My friend, I can tell you in all sincerity that it is worthy, and more worthy is the hand that presents it. She will be overjoyed.” He grinned. “Thank you, Nomaeis, I appreciate it... But I have one favour to ask of you.” The elf raised his eyebrow suspiciously, and the human laughed to see his reaction. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad, though it is important. I want you to be the best man, if you are willing.” “Willing?” The elf laughed. “Just you try and damn well stop me!” The man laughed with him and then got up from his seat, finishing his drink. “Well then, good friend, I had best go off and ask now, whilst this draught has given me the courage. Wish me luck!” The elf shook his head. “You don’t need it!” he said cheerfully, raising his drink. “There is nothing that cannot be conquered by the great sorcerer Alhacrast!” The man bowed low. “Not without the help of the mighty mage Nomaeis!” He grinned and walked towards the exit of the tavern, nodding respectfully at the innkeeper before turning to the door. The elf smiled and looked down at his unfinished drink. They still joked with such names for each other, but Alhacrast had been outshining him for a long time. He was happy for his friend, happy for both of them, though there was a touch of sadness inside. A quiet sigh escaped his lips. It was probably for the best... Tarindil awoke from his reverie and looked around the camp. The fire was burning low, so he got up and put another stick on it. He’d said earlier that he wanted this druid’s lair to burn. Well, the least they could do is make use of the doors for firewood... He looked around, and most of the others were asleep. Thurgin was sitting next to the troll, holding a holy symbol and watching over him. The elf went and joined him. “How’s he doing?” he said quietly. “Not too bad now. His natural regeneration is slowly doing its work, and its gotten better since he’s been able to eat. That blink dog corpse and morgia roots that Ramirez gave him earlier seems to have done some small wonders. Still, his wounds be grievous. Nought of the rest of us could have suffered them and lived. He’ll need some time to recover fully. I have been praying for him...” Tarindil nodded quietly. He glanced over at Jarlgan, who was asleep in a huddle in one corner of the room. He remembered the orc’s words. “Chaos, it isn't power. Life, death, there is no difference. Balance is the only real way for life." For once he felt pity for the creature. “Do you believe in miracles?” he asked the dwarf. Thurgin nodded solemnly. “But for the grace of the one that cast me I would not still be living.” “Well... sometimes I think there are miracles we have to make for ourselves...” He took out an old scroll from his pack. “I have an idea, but I need you to consecrate this scroll for me.” The dwarf raised an eyebrow but conceded, and taking out a potion of holy water he splashed the scroll lightly whilst saying a short prayer. The parchment glowed in a white light for the moment, and he passed it back to the elf. “I sense that the orc is at a turning point, and that he may be persuaded to take a truer path. What he needs is a sign to point him in the right direction.” Tarindil got up, walked quietly towards where the orc lay and crouched down beside him. He unravelled the scroll, and holding it close to the orc’s skin he began to read. Waves of energy came out and pounded into Jarlgan’s body. The poison stopped dripping from his fingers and the slope in his forehead receded. The orc’s troubled face looked more at peace now. Tarindil smiled and returned to sit beside Thurgin. “Not all the corruption is cured, but it has helped a great deal. Hopefully he will awake thinking a miracle has occurred, and it will encourage him to turn more towards the light.” The dwarf smiled. “Devious, but perhaps it’ll work. Though I think the orc could do with more time learning to deal with punishment for his actions. He is lucky to be alive right now at all.” They both watched the orc, wondering in their minds if the hunger for chaotic power could ever fully leave him. The next morning they set off again, hoping to make it out of the dungeon and to Terinyo before sunset. It was slow work carrying Lawf’okong’s body, and though the girdle helped Ramirez greatly he still needed to rest from time to time. Tarindil had been watching the orc, but he’d been utterly silent all day, seemingly deep in thought. Most creatures that they had come across were intimidated into running away, and the few that were foolish enough to try to impede their progress soon met Jarlgan’s blade. He didn’t seem to show any remorse for the killings, but for once he didn’t show any pleasure either. He was like a blank slate. About noon, on the second floor from the top, they took what they hoped would be their final rest before getting to leave this forsaken place. Ramirez slowly lowered the troll to the ground and took a deep breath. “Hoo... They sure don’t make these trolls light.” Lawf’okong slightly opened one eye. “I apologise... for being a burden to you...” he said in a weak voice. “Eheh, no worries,” said Ramirez. “I know you’d do the same for me. Now let’s get you fed properly...” He fished in his pack for some rations. On the other side of the room Loli was investigating a small blue pool. “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” said Tarindil. “It’s bound to be filled with the dirt of many creatures in this grimy place. Besides, water shouldn’t be bright blue like that. Who knows what strange effects it might have?” “butwaterisalwaysblueinpaintings” “Yes, that’s because they use blue paint. Which is poisonous, I should point out.” The fairy dragon meekly backed off from the pool, but when his master wasn’t looking he crept back and tried a sip. His eyes tingled strangely. “ittastessweet” He gingerly leaned forward and tried another sip of the peculiar fluid. A voice echoed across the room. “What do you wish for?” The others all turned in shock, their jaws agape in surprise. “oohiwantsomecandyplease!” The pool dried up and a large heap of gnomish candy appeared in front of the fairy dragon. It squeaked in delight and jumped onto the pile, mouth open. “RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!” screamed Ramirez. “KKKNNNFFLLLGGGRRRAAAMMMMNNNGGG! FFFSSSSLLLLOOOOOGGGGGSSSSMMMFFFFF!!!” He had trouble putting words together to express his rage, and the others had to all grab him and hold him back from attacking the fairy dragon. Loli jumped behind the pile of candy in fear. “y-youcanhavesometooifyouwant” Ramirez screamed louder. It was around dusk that they finally reached the village, marching slowly and steadily towards the centre. As they passed one building they came across a baby water dragon, about 5 feet long, with giant sad blue eyes. Loli flew gracefully over to it and the two began speaking together fast in high-pitched voices. Soon the two were laughing and having a water fight with each other. The others went on and found the druid near the trees and pools beautifully arranged in the centre of the town. “Ah,“ he said as he saw them approach. “I see you have returned, and I can sense that he has been vanquished.” The dwarf pulled out Keethrax’s head, and Guth’Alak nodded sadly as he received it. “It is a terrible shame. He was one of the best of our order, but the lure of power became too much for him and he fell into disgrace. A great weapon he could have been in the fight against chaos, and instead he became a terrible hindrance and malice. Still, I will ensure that what is left of him gets a proper burial.” He looked up at the troll that was hefted over one of Ramirez’s shoulders. “Your friend has been badly injured. Put him down and I will do what I can to help.” Ramirez lowered the troll down on the ground, and Guth’Alak laid his hands on the wound. A silvery-white light emanated from his palms and the wounds quickly receded. The troll coughed, and carefully raised himself up, using his staff as a support. “Thank you...” he said, though his voice was still weak. The druid nodded. “I have healed much of the damage, but some will still take time. Make sure you rest well tonight, and try not to cast any magic for the next day or two unless strictly needed. Now, the matter of rewards for you all... I can offer you each one of two things, either a powerful item or the gift of knowledge.” He turned to Thurgin first. “What shall you choose? Knowledge or power?” The paladin thought for a while and said, “I be a simple dwarf at heart, and that what I can lay me hands on is easier to use. I will choose power.” Guth’Alak nodded and took a potion from his robes. “Servant of Morodwyn, your hands may heal sickness of the flesh, but this can wash taint from the soul. Use it well.” He handed over the potion of cure corruption and turned towards the elf. “And what of you?” Tarindil smiled and said, “Knowledge is something I like to find and learn for myself, not receive as a gift. I will also choose power.” The druid took an iron wand from his robes and handed it over. It felt cold to the touch. “Remember, master of music, not all weapons must to be used for their original purpose. This wand is filled with freezing energy, but it need not be a tool of battle. Never forget to use your imagination to find different ways to succeed in your quest.” He turned to the troll. “Fellow follower of the Art, tell me your choice.” Lawf’okong spoke in a deep, wise voice. “Great knowledge I have acquired in my years, and much more knowledge awaits me. But for now I have need of greater power to hold back the forces of chaos that threaten our world. Please grant me what you can.” Guth’Alak nodded, and from his dark green robes he drew out a thick tome. “Here, take this, and from it learn new powers to wield. But enemies you will face against whom no fire or ice will work. You must always search for new powers to use against the greatest of enemies you will encounter, and use them wisely.” He turned now to the orc. “Black-skinned one, what do you choose? Knowledge or power?” The others all looked in expectation. Jarlgan hadn’t said anything all day, and perhaps they could now hear some hint as to what was on his mind. The muscle-bound orc glanced over at the potion in Thurgin’s hands, before looking meekly at the druid’s feet and speaking quietly. “Power is too dangerous... Please... give me knowledge so that I may choose my path more wisely.” The druid nodded sagely and placed a hand against the orc’s forehead. It glowed in a golden-green light for a moment. “Young one, you have much to learn, and much potential. Learn now of the glory of nature in all her abundance, of trees and plants, and the many varied creatures that our world is blessed with. From the smallest herb to the greatest oak, from the rats of the sewers to the wild horses on the plains. With respect for life you may then learn to have respect for yourself.” He turned now to the human assassin, who had been watching the others carefully. “And finally yourself, what do you choose?” “Well,” chirped Ramirez. “I’m quite happy with my dagger here for power, so if you could give me a bit of knowledge that’d be grand.” Guth’Alak put his hand now on Ramirez’s head. “I see you have knowledge already of the herbs in the world. But much knowledge you have also of death and destruction and ways to cause pain on others. Learn now of more peaceful things, so that at the end of your quests you may find joy in the quieter ways of life.” His hand glowed, and Ramirez looked confused as knowledge was infused into his brain. The druid stepped back and spread out his hands. “Now, noble warriors, I have something to tell you. It has been 6 months since Khelavaster the great sage passed through this village, heading west to try and stem the tide of chaos invading this world. He told me of a dungeon to the west delving deep under the earth, and said that there was the source of all the evil forces coming to infest Ancardia. I see now that you all have great potential, and a wealth of knowledge and power at your disposal. But you must use it wisely. I ask, brave adventurers, that you try to follow in the footsteps of the sage and do what you can to battle this evil before their taint spreads across the face of our world. But be wary of these corruptive powers, for they shall try to turn you into one of their own. Protect yourself well from the forces of chaos, and seek out the source of imbalance.” With that he bowed and left them. That night one of the villagers supplied them with a room for free in thanks for their services. Munxip, out of favour to the druid, also provided them with a large amount of food. Tarindil was in a merry mood, and began playing a happy tune on his mandolin, but he soon noticed no one was paying attention. Lawf’okong was hungrily downing large quantities of food, his metabolism in great need of recovery after his injuries. Thurgin was in the corner, deep in prayer to Morodwyn, whilst the orc sat nearby, quietly thinking over what he had learnt. Ramirez and Loli both seemed to be looking glum. “What’s wrong with you, Ramirez? I wouldn’t expect you to look down after we managed such a great victory.” The human scowled. “What was so great about it? We got no reward! Knowledge I says to the druid, and what does he teach me? Bloody gardening!” He crossed his arms and huffed. Tarindil resisted the urge to smile and turned to his pet fairy dragon. “How about you, Loli? Didn’t you make a new friend today?” The pink dragon looked up with sad eyes. “Blupverynicebutitsaverysadstory. Helosthismommyandhecan’tfindheranywhere.” “Hmm,” said the elf, thinking. “Perhaps we can try and look for her then?” The fairy dragon chirped up. “Really?” he asked. The bard nodded. “Of course. We’ll maybe scout out the great waterways near here – I’d guess a water dragon would make its lair somewhere deep. We can’t spend too much time searching, but we’ll try.” Just then there was a knock on the door to their room, and Ramirez got up and opened it. “Why lookee here, it’s our old sheriff friend.” He sneered. Twayt Pare gave him a suspicious look and walked into the room. “Now look here gentlemen, I ‘ear you did a mighty fine job for old Guth’Alak, so I were wond’rin’ if I could use yer services. Things used to be fairly quite round these parts, till about a year ago when a dark army passed by headin' west. Some of them musta split off, ‘cause pretty soon the neighbourin’ town had a new leader, and an arrogant feller at that. Previously folks there kept themselves to themselves, and though I didn’t like it much I didn’t go interferin'. But this new feller, he’s been startin’ abductions and robberies and all sortsa nasty stuff, and I ain’t gonna put up with that. Hotzenplotz is his name, and I’d be mighty pleased if you could sort him out for me. As you know we also had trouble with a raider recently named Kranach, but from what I be hearin’ he’s gone into hidin’ now thanks to you fellers.” Ramirez thought things over for a second. “How much?” he said bluntly. “Well, I reckon I could give you fellers a reward of 2000 for Hotzenplotz’s head.” “Hah!” said Ramirez. “Give us 6000 and we’ll get you both Kranach and Hotzy.” The sheriff grunted. “I can speak to the elder, maybe get 5000...” Ramirez nodded with a smile. “Deal! Don’t worry sheriff, we will valiantly tackle the evil that is infesting your land, and adamantly force down the rule of law!” He bowed. The sheriff looked at him strangely. “Oh, and one other thing... Well, this little girl she said she wanted a word with the adventurers. I didn’t have the heart in me to say no...” Twyat Pare left, and in stepped a tiny girl, surely no older than four or five. She looked in awe at the five men in the room. “Um... misters...” she began in a very small voice. “My li’l puppy got lost in a cave over by the road. Mommy says it’s dangerous and I can’t go there. Could you go get him back? I’m awful worried...” Lawf’okong raised an eyebrow. “How long ago did it get lost?” “Um... a week ago, mister.” “Oh come on!” exclaimed Ramirez. “Get real! Seven days?! There’s no chance it-“ He stopped as he saw the sad look on the tiny girl’s face. “Um, I mean... Seven days, it...” Tears were welling in her eyes. “Please,” she said in tiniest, saddest voice he’d ever heard. That word struck a chord deep inside the assassin – it was one he’d heard too many times, and looking into the little girl’s eyes triggered a lot of painful memories. “All right...” he mumbled, defeated. “We’ll get your puppy back...” The little girl smiled and ran up to Ramirez, hugging his leg before running back out of the room. The human slumped against the wall before sliding down to the floor. Tarindil gave him an inquisitive look. “Ah, just play yer damned mandolin,” said Ramirez. “Tomorrow we’ll go look for that girl’s dog, even though it’s hopeless. After that we’ll track down Kranach and go kill old Hotzy.” A little grin crossed his face. “A chance for revenge, and to get paid for it!” Early next morning they packed their things ready, and got set to leave the town. They paid a little visit to Blup, who seemed overjoyed at the thought of them searching for his mommy. They gave him a few potions of carrot juice and he taught those that didn’t know a few lessons about swimming. They also got further directions from the tiny girl’s mother as to whereabouts this cave was – just up north-east not far from the road she said. They were about to set out when they were stopped by a squeaky voice behind them. “Oye, oye! Wait up, wait up!” They looked down to see the source of the voice, and then looked down further till their eyes finally met the tiny gnome trying to get their attention. It was barely more than three foot high. “I hears yous is goin’ aftah Kranach, issat right?” Tarindil took a moment to figure out what the little gnome was saying, then nodded his head. “Yes, that is right.” “Well, I wanna comes wif ya! Me name is Whadar, I be a gnome froms da mounters to da norf-east. I were explorinatin’ these here woods last week when some buggeroony decides to up an attack me. Well, I were angry, and I foughts, and wham wham wham! Mes a-punchin and mes a-kicking these here buggeroonies. But, ah, it weren’t doin’ much good ya see, so theys beatin’ me up and gone stolen my tings, includin’ me nice heavy crossbow what Berwyn himself did bless me wif. Now I founds me a new liddle crossbow, and I mades meself some new quarrels, but I ain’t able to go after those raider buggeroonies on my own. So ya gotta take me!” Tarindil had a lot of trouble keeping up with the fast-paced dialogue, but Thurgin was more used to dealing with gnomes. “Ye any good with the crossbow then?” “Any good? Me’s the bloomin’ best! Shootin’ me mamma’d be proud of, bless ‘er soul.” “Then how did those raiders manage to ambush ye so easily?” “Ah, well, ya see, me were asleep... And, uh, kinda drunk ya see... Ya gotta problem wif dat, mister?! I can take ya out right ‘ere ya know! Just you try it!” The tiny gnome raised his little fists in the air bunched up, but the dwarf just laughed merrily. “No need for that! Well, what do the rest of ye think?” He looked around at the others, who returned casual shrugs. Tarindil was still trying to get to grips with the gnome’s way of speaking. “Is it actually talking the same language?” “’Course I’s talkin’ da same language ya poncy elf-buggeroony!” Tarindil simply blinked in confusion and shook his head. “Well, if he wants to tag along I guess it’ll do no harm.” The others nodded, and they headed off, the little gnome muttering about poncy elves whilst sipping on a potion of booze. Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/25/2007 at 16:48 (GMT -5) by Darren Grey] |
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nOOb-mAsTeR Registered user Master of all things nOOby!!! Last page view: 5764 days, 1 hour and 10 seconds ago. |
As they marched to the cave where the tiny girl lost the puppy, Whadar spoke about himself,"Ahs, me, I'm a grand shot.I can shoot a quarrel thro a sco' o' beasts, about that twoll's size!" Lawf'okong chuckled and actually seemed happy for the first time in a long time," I am sure you could, master Whadar.Though don't shoot through-cough cough!"Lawf'okong fell to his knees as he suffered a coughing fit until Tarindil poured a little more of the potion of healing down his throat."Ye have my thanks, Tarindil. That fight really drained me of my power..." His voice trailed off as he heard the chant of a creature he despised...kobolds. Within a second he was on his feet staff laying on the floor, charging down the hallway with the group trying to catch up yelling,"Hey,so much for being-" As an arrow flew by Ramirez. Lawf'okong could see it now:The carnage when kobolds attacked his family...they would pay!He went berserk, bloodlust in his eyes as all his clothes were ripped off by the attacks, yet he continued his attack on the tribe. He had his eyes focused on the chieftains and shamans in the corner, trying to flee from his wrath.He ripped the skull off of a large kobold, threw it, and it smashed the skull of a shaman! Ramirez shouted,"Hey, I thought you were the bloody lawful around here!?!?"The troll did not respond, feasting on the corpses of the shamans. After finishing his meal, he spoke,"Friends, forgive me for my barbaric behavior. Kobolds killed my family....it was an act of revenge. But there is good news. The shaman corpses have restored my attunement to the flow of Mana. I have gained back my power!!!" as his staff flew into his hand.The group stood in awe, realizing that this was no ordinary troll, or wizard. After an awkward moment of silence, Jarlgan spoke as he looked the other way with disgust on his face,"Uh,big guy, ye might wanna put some clothes on."Embarassed at his nakedness, the troll blushed. "You try to give Fang, the large dog the bone. Fang, the large dog says,"Do you know who I am, mortal?!?!" My smartest dog ever:D [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/25/2007 at 16:42 (GMT -5) by nOOb-mAsTeR] |
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PeanutGod Registered user Lord of Misery Last page view: 5052 days, 7 hours, 48 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
Ramirez tossed Lawf’okong an old robe from his pack, so that the troll could cover himself up appropriately. The five of them turned their backs in order to give the wizard some privacy. Pulling the robes around him, the troll snorted in disgust at their size; hardly covering his body at all. He stomped off down the corridor back to the dead kobolds, hoping to find some clothes of some sort that were actually large enough to cover his body. No such luck. Annoyance still plastered over his large face, he returned back to his companions. “Gah, let’s get moving. Maybe I can find something more suitable further down the dungeon. I feel practically naked in this.” “Not to mention you look practically naked as well,” noted Ramirez with a smile. “Welcome to the anatomy of a troll people, class one. Notice the……” he ducked as the troll threw a rock at him, which bounced off the wall and rattled down the corridor. “Curb your tongue assassin. It wasn’t that long ago that you’re clothes were gone remember.” “True, but then I wasn’t naked from the waist down if I remember correctly. You on the other hand…….” He gestured with his hand and a half smile on his face. Realising that the assassin would poke fun at him whatever happened, Lawf’okong muttered a trollish curse under his breath and then moved off down the corridor, his staff thumping heavily into the stonework. The others gazed at each other, and all stifled their laughter as they followed suit. Ramirez fell behind to try and start some kind of conversation with Whadar, who had his crossbow at the ready and was pretending to shoot imaginary creatures. “BOOM! BOOM! Take tha’ and tha’, come on ya braw beasties, Whadar’s ready for ya’! “Excuse me,” coughed Ramirez. “What can I do for ya hummie?” said Whadar, spinning round with his crossbow cocked and pointing it at the assassins face. Ramirez blinked, and then with one finger pushed the small weapon aside. “Nothing much my small friend. I was just wondering something. What exactly did Kranach do to you that made you so angry at him?” “Well it was like I’s said before guv. I was nappin in da north last week, enjoyin’ a snooze under da nice warm sunny, and then WHAM, I ‘ad a zillion raider all pilin’ up on me, givin’ me grief and tryin to steal me stuff! Now, I gave em a good hidin so I dids, but them buggers stole me bestest crossbow so they did. Now that’s a weapon and ‘alf that is, it can take down any beastie it wants to. So, naturally, I say’s to myself. Whadar I say’s, you got to go and deal out some good ole fashiony justice. Then I ‘eard a rumour in Terinyo dat a load of muckety muck adventurer’s are goin to go and sort Kranach out like. So I thought to myself, Whadar I thoughts, those warrior types would be right ‘appy to have a man of you’re prowess in their midst! So I bought some rations, stocked up on me quarrels, and skipped on ahead of you all, knowin you’d be walkin my path!” The gnome beamed as he said all this and it took Ramirez a few extra seconds to absorb all of the information that he had just been told. “Right. So basically, he stole your crossbow.” “Aye. Didn’t you just lissen to me story hummie?” “I did. Now, when we find the raiders, wherever they may be, we’ll retrieve your crossbow with all haste. As for Kranach, he’s mine.” “Not if I’s gets to him first he ain’t hummie.” Ramirez stared at the gnome with a frighteningly cold expression. When he next spoke his voice had dropped down to a hoarse whisper that seemed to drip with venom. His hands snaked out and he grabbed the gnomes arm and his crossbow, holding him still. “Listen to me peewee, Kranach is MINE. Understand? Me and him have a history that goes back a LONG time. If I see a quarrel shooting towards him, there won’t be anything in all of the Draklor chain and hell combined that won’t be able to stop me from slicing you into tiny pieces. Understand?” As he spoke, Ramirez’ eyes flickered, his pupils dilated into slits and started to pulse a crimson red. Whadar recoiled, but kept his nerve. “Aye, I hear ya. Kranach’s off limits so he is. All I want’s is me crossbow, no ‘arm in that is there?” Ramirez relaxed and his grip on the gnomes arm and crossbow weakened. “No harm in that Whadar. It’s just that I get very touchy when people are trying to kill my prey. Very touchy indeed.” He let his grip go completely, and straightened himself out. “now, let us move on. We’ve fallen behind a few steps of the others.” Without pausing to see if the gnome was going to follow, Ramirez strolled off, his hands fondling the assortment of daggers that rested in his baldric. Two phase daggers, one dagger of death and an adamantium dagger; a nice arsenal in order to help take down his victims. His mouth creased into a sneer as his old killing instincts renewed themselves in his brain. The gnome and the human caught up with the others who had walked on ahead. A deep set of stairs beckoned all of them, a gaping maw in the stony ground. The companions all stepped closer to the stairs and peered down. In comparison to the stairs they had already encountered, these steps seemed to descend forever. Tarindil pried a small rock loose from the ground and tossed it down the hole. It bounced off the steps and the walls, and they all strained to hear it. The noise disappeared, but they could still hear its echoes as it carried on downwards. “Wow, deep hole,” said the elf. Loli snoozed gently on his shoulder, and he gave the dragon a small shaken to waken it. “Aye. Who’s going down first? I vote we send the troll. It’ll scare anything else away when they see it’s practically naked.” Ramirez kept a straight face as he said this. “I vote we send the human, maybe whatever is down there will take pity on him for his lack of brains.” Lawf’okong gave Ramirez a side glance with a smile. “Aha, touché old bean.” “I’ll go down first,” stated Thurgin. “My eyes are used to the darkness of the dungeons. Just don’t all crowd down behind me. When I’m down ten steps, the next person follow and so on.” With this said, the dwarf unbuckled his axe from his back and brought it to bear in both arms. Stepping carefully, he started to move down the stairs. “Watch it lads, these stairs are awfully slippy. They’re coated in some sort of liquid. Someone or something obviously doesn’t want us to come down here!” His voice became quieter as he rounded a corner. “Right then chaps. You heard the dwarf. Single file, tens steps behind. Off we go. Lawf’ old boy, you’re next.” He gently nudged the troll along. “Tarindil, off you go. Whadar old chum, take it easy on your way down. Jarlgan, nice and slow me old mucker. Everyone down? Right I’ll bring up the rear.” He took a last look around to make sure nothing was upon them and then took his first step. Something dropped onto his shoulder and he froze on the spot. Turning his head slowly, he glanced down at the intruding presence. A large spider crawled towards his face. “AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Ramirez swiped at the arachnid, his body smashing adrenalin around his body in desperation. Slipping on the liquid the dwarf had warned them about, Ramirez fell backwards down the stairs. The spider clung on, and as he rolled down the stairs, he tried to beat it off furiously. “GET OFF! GET OFF! OFF OFF OFF OFF! AARRGGHH” At the bottom of the stairs, his companions all held their weapons in front of them, thinking Ramirez had just encountered something that was going to be a pretty big challenge to take down. A crash, a bump, a bang and a wallop later, and Ramirez tumbled into view. His body rebounded off the wall and he was propelled down the last few steps. With a large thud, he hit the bottom of the steps and then immediately sprung up. Running around in circles he waved his arms around in the air and kept screaming over and over “GET IT OFF ME!” Jarlgan stepper forwards and caught the assassin around the waist. Quickly noticing the offending insect, he flicked it off Ramirez’ shirt. It landed several feet away and lay stunned. Ramirez was over to it in a flash and was jumping up ad down on it. “AHA! HOW DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN SOMEONE DROPS ON YOU? TAKE THAT YOU BASTARD! TAKE THAT! COME ON! FIGHT BACK NOW EH?” Eventually he calmed down, and looked up to see all of the others staring at him. He straightened himself up and brushed off his clothes in an effort to restore some of his dignity. Holding his nose up in the air, he pushed past them. “I don’t like spiders,” he said, as if this statement would make up for his crazy antics. “OH MY GOD LOOK AT THAT TARANTULA BEHIND US!” screamed Tarindil. “ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” Ramirez took off down the corridor leaving the others to burst out laughing. They caught up with him eventually, collapsed on the floor and red faced. “Did you get it?” he asked them “Get what?” replied Lawf’okong “The tarantula of course.” “What tarantula? I didn’t see a tarantula. Did any of you?” He asked the rest of the group who all shook their heads. Ramirez looked at them all with annoyance on his face. “You lot, are bastards. You know that?” “We know,” grinned Lawf’okong. “But take some of the credit. We’re only like this because of your influence on us.” Ramirez muttered something inaudible and got to his feet. “Well say what you like. You’re all swines. Say…..can your hear that?” “Ok ok, enough of the games,” said Lawf’okong. “Let’s carry on shall we?” “Seriously stop for a second. I can hear something. Like a grinding sound.” “I can hear it to,” said Thurgin. “And I know what it is. Ant’s. I’ve heard the sounds many a time.” “Oh great, more insects.” As if to punctuate the assassin words, the wall next to them crumbled and a huge ant pushed itself through. Its pincers clashed together, the feelers on its head picking up danger. It started to chitter, and in a matter of seconds more of them appeared, of varying sizes. The companions all stepped back as the ants grouped together. “Oh nuts to this. COME ON!” yelled Ramirez, pulling a phase dagger and his dagger death from his baldric. Like small blade whirlwind, he threw himself into the pack of insects, stabbing, cutting and slicing his way through. The others threw themselves in as well. Whadar stayed back from the others, his crossbow flicking bolts of death into the fray. One ant moved clear of the fight and lumbered towards the gnome. It reared up on its back legs, ready to strike down. Rolling backwards, Whadar brought his crossbow up and shot a quarrel right through the ants thorax. The creature tottered and then collapsed down, its legs twitching and a slime leaking from its mouth. Jarlgan roared his battle cry and jumped in, his huge broadsword cleaving through the ants armoured hide and striking them in two. An acid bolt flashed out, streaking past the orc to hit another ant coming through the wall. Thurgin had his axe buried in one ant’s head and pulled it free with a sickening sound. Another approached behind him, and he swung his axe down low, lopping off the insect’s front two legs. A strike to the petiole put the ant out of misery for good. Tarandil looked at the insects and a thought came to him. He pulled out his mandoline and struck up a tune. The two ants nearest two him became mesmerized by the song, even going so far as to twitch their antennas in time with the melody. He led them away down the corridor as the others finished off the rest of the beasts. A huge rumble sounded, followed by a slithering noise. The already large hole collapsed around them as a huge ant, twice the size of the others barged through. “Oh goody, mom’s home,” said Ramirez, dispatching a dying ant warrior with a blow to the head. His dagger plunged into the ant’s brain and killed it outright. The ant queen ran straight at Jarlgan, it’s simple mind figuring that the largest threat was the most dangerous. It knocked the orc down, but Jarlgan wasn’t about to give up without a fight. He let go of his sword and grabbed the ant between head and thorax with his hand. Shoving upwards, he regained his feet and started to punch it solidly. Lawf’okong;s hands flashed and another acid bolt tore a hole in the ant queens side. Thurgin slammed his axe into the queen’s side, causing a spray of blood to erupt. Whadar took careful aim, and a quarrel launched itself true, popping one of the ant’s eyes and exiting out the other side of its head. The queen trembled in its death throes and collapsed, still trying to protect its home. Finally its life force departed, and it lie still. “Bloody insects,” said Ramirez, sheathing his daggers and wiping his face. Thurgin ran a hand across his face to remove the large amount of ant blood that had splattered all over him. “Where’s da pouncy elf gone den eh?” said Whador, cocking another quarrel into his crossbow. “Right here my friends, said Tarindil, coming back into view. Two ants followed him, both marching in unison with the other. “I had a small brainwave a few moments ago. These two are now firmly under my control.” “Great, what are we going to do with a couple of ants? Ride them?” said Jarlgan. “No. We’re going to make them work for us. Watch this.” Tarindil strummed a few notes on his mandoline and gestured to the walls. The ants immediately went to work, crumbling the rock to dust. Tarindil followed in their wake and picked up a few rocks here and there. He turned to his companions with a triumphant look on his face. “Look here. Gems. These ants can mine this entire level while we’re gone. We could make a fortune.” Ramirez’ eyes gleamed at the idea of more money. “Excellent idea elf. That’s using the old caboodle.” Tarindil nodded and played a few more notes. The ants then carried on destroying the walls. “They’ll be at it until we come back, so we might as well get moving. The stairs are just down here. I found them when I drew these two away.” The gang moved down the corridor and found the next set of stairs waiting for them. Tarindil checked on his ants once again to make sure they were still working and then started down the stairs. The rest followed. The next two levels proved to be rather uneventful, the stairs coming into view almost instantly. They debated as to whether to explore the rest of the level but decided against it for now. “After all,” said Lawf’okong. “We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s find this dog first. If he’s alive, we’ll get him out of here. If not, we’ll explore this area when we come back up. Either way we’ll come back to it.” The others nodded and they proceeded downwards. They all found themselves in a huge cavern, the ceiling disappearing into darkness. Whadar shot a quarrel into the air to see if he could hit the ceiling, but they heard nothing. They heard the quarrel clatter as it fell to the ground however. Monsters milled all over, goblins, hobgoblins, jackals, bugs and numerous other kinds. Weapons came to arm once more, and they moved forward in a circle formation, so that there was never anything behind them except a companion. As the creatures fell, Ramirez scooped up odds and ends that they no longer needed in death. Two potions of water fell into his possession as well as light green concoction. A bundle of arrows that a kobold no longer needed, a small blanket, over two hundred gold pieces, a set of robes and a scroll labelled ‘KAPOW’. They moved forwards, still in circle formation. “The stairs are up ahead,” Jarlgan said, his voice slightly higher so everyone could hear. “But there’s some people there!” “People, what kind of people?” asked Lawf’okong. “I dunno. They’ve got bows and arrows and seem to be keeping guard. Hold on…..INCOMING!” The group ducked as a series of arrows flashed over their heads. Looking up they saw the people retreating down the steps. “Raiders,” spat the dwarf. “I recognise that attire yis I do. Dat’s Kranach’s bunch so tis.” “Kranach?” said Ramirez, his eyes flaring open. “Steady lad,” Thurgin said. “Let’s not rush into anything dangerous here.” “Balls to danger, I want that mans head on a spike,” hissed the assassin. “Aye, and so do the rest of us. But its better to play it safe.” Ramirez snorted and looked around at the others with a anger in his eyes, but he kept quiet, knowing the dwarf was right. “Lawf’, I’ve got an idea,” said the dwarf. “There’s no doubt that those raiders will be waiting at the bottom of the stairs in order to turn us into pincushions the moment we go down. How about you make them scatter with a missile or five?” “That sounds like a very good idea Thurgin.” They moved over to the stairs and Lawf’okong concentrated. Missiles erupted from his finger tips and bounced down the stairway. Cries of pain and shock could be heard, and he sent down a few more just to make sure. Nothing more could be heard. He nodded and they all proceeded down with caution. At the base of the stairs, four raider corpses lie strewn about. Ramirez kicked them all in disgust, but not before picking up a long bow and a quiver of arrows. He also found two other bows, which he unstrung and slipped into his pack. “KRANNACCHHH? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” he bawled. His voice echoed down the corridors. “Oh great, there goes the element of surprised,” said Jarlgan. “Sod surprises. KRANACH……..TIME TO START RUNNING.” Ramirez ran off down the corridor, pulling his daggers out and keeping in the shadows. The rest followed after him. A door loomed before the assassin, but he paid it no heed as he lowered his shoulder and kept on running. Wood splintered as he crashed through. An arrow whizzed past him and he spun around to bury a dagger in the throat of a raider that was waiting in ambush. At the far end of a long room, Kranach stood with his lieutenants. The raider lord was dressed in a red uniform, obviously to highlight his rank above the others. A sabre hung at his belt, looking not out of place by his side. His lieutenants were all dressed well too, four of them all in leather armours with swords hanging by their sides, as well as bows over their shoulders. The last was dressed in a shabby hooded cloak and skins. Ramirez counted them all, six of them including Kranach himself. He smiled and put up his daggers as his companions came through the door behind him and spread out. “Kranach my old friend. How lovely it is to see you!” “Aye, and you to Butcher. It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” “Oh yes. If I recall correctly, the last time I saw you, you were grubbing around at the Dark Lords feet, begging for mercy. Tell me, do you still have all your toes?” “A POX ON YOU!” screamed Kranach, whipping his sword out and holding it in front of him. “YOU KNOW DAMN WELL I DON’T YOU BASTARD. IT WAS YOU WHO TOOK THEM OFF!” “I was doing my job that was all. Be thankful Hotzy didn’t get hold of you. By the way, I hear that you and him have become VERY close friends since you both left the dark city. VERY close indeed.” He took a step forward menacingly. “Aye assassin. That we have. In fact he’s promised me a large sum of money to dispose of you and your motley crew.” “So, just like the old days eh Kran. Except this time you’re luck has run out for good. No one can step in and help you now. No one can cover up your bungling failures. How the dark lord never found out your incompetence is beyond a mystery. Or maybe he actually knew, and just liked to torment you eh?” “Silence Ramirez. At least I was out facing my enemies head on. I wasn’t hiding in the shadows and killing innocents. Or don’t you remember that part? Don’t you remember all of the children you slaughtered because you were told to? Young girls clutching to their mother’s dresses as you opened up their throats. Mighty big of you Ramirez; mighty big indeed.” “I was doing my job.” “Hah, so I heard. Even killed one of Hotzy’s children didn’t you? Aye, and I bet he doesn’t know that. But wait until I drag you to him and inform him of that. You’ll be begging for death before the end assassin.” “It seems you’re well up on begging Kran. Begging for scraps from Hotzy’s table. Just like you always used to. He can’t help you now scum. I know my history and I’m paying for it now. But you, you lost all worth when you broke your oath. You’re nothing but a snivelling coward. At least I face my enemies head on when I need to. You’ve never fought an enemy face to face in your life. You always have your soldiers do it for you. You always stand at the back and then take the credit at the end of the day.” “You want to fight me Ramirez, is that what you’re saying? Don’t be absurd. You’re nothing compared to me, right boys?” His lieutenants all nodded. “Right boss.” “But if you seemk so insistent, let’s see what you’re made of. Ramirez. Let me introduce my friends here. This is Simildan, a sword fighter of renown in the east. That is Algor, the axeman. Standing next to him is his twin, Alger, who is know for his two clubs of death. This small fellow next to me is the best marksmen I’ve ever know. Meet Scribald the archer. And finally you can see Traod the Fallen standing next to me. He’s my mage, and more than a match for you.” “Oh really? You think that rag tag bunch of misfits can stand up to us?” laughed Ramirez. “Well allow me to respond in kind. See that elf on the end there. That’s Tarindil the Bard, and his pet dragon Loli. He can sing you a song and slice you apart as he’s doing it. The dwarf is Thurgin, a paladin of small renown around here. The gnome is Whadar, and I’m guessing he’s wanting his crossbow back that your archer is holding onto. The big troll here is Lawf’okong. And while you may be thinking trolls are stupid, this troll knows more magic than your dirty pile of rags there will ever know. And see that huge thing on the end. Meet Jarlgan, the one orc army. He is not the orc with whom to mess. And as for me, well you already know me Kran. The Dark Assassin, the Silent Butcher. Well, if you think my skills back then were good, you’re in for a surprise.” “So,” sneered Kranach. “It looks like we have ourselves an Arcadian standoff. Well, I know one way to solve that. Do you remember the games Ramirez old friend?” “Aye, I remember. However they were YOUR games Kranach. You were always the one who wanted to cause a big scene. Let me guess, we’re going to play your favourite right?” “Oh how you well remember me Ramirez. Of course we are. But now we have an added twist. Thanks to my wizard friend here. He constructed a magical room for me. Let the game of chance begin!” Traod the Fallen waved his fingers in the air and the group started to feel strange. The next thing they knew, they were all standing in a different area. The room was large roughly twenty metres in length and width. In the centre of the room, below them was a small courtyard, littered with tables, chairs, crates and all manner of obstacles. “What the hell is going on?” asked Jarlgan. Ramirez stood with his arms crossed and his eyes closed. “Kranach is up to his usual tricks. He always used to employ a wizard for this very reason. Whenever someone was after him, he’d invite them to play a game. No party has ever played his game and won though, or he’d be dead by now. He likes the ultimate thrill ride. Let me explain, we’re all grouped here on one side of the room. We can see out into the courtyard below. Across from us on the other side of the room stand Kranach and his gang. Both teams have a set of stairs leading into the courtyard. What we do, is pick a group member, and then they will do the same. Then they will fight. And the winner will return to his team. The winner is the one who kills the other. The game carries on until one team survives. But that’s not all. You’d think that you can help your friend’s right? Wrong. Thurgin, try and look out over the balcony there.” Thurgin put his hands on the wooden rails and leant forward, only to knock his head on some invisible force. “What the…..?” he exclaimed. “Just so no one can interfere. Those invisible barriers prevent us from helping each other. They’ll only disappear when a fight is over and someone has to go in. It’s sickening. Whichever team wins is transported out of here.” “How?” asked Lawf’okong. “Surely a wizard is needed?” “That is one trick I’d never worked out,” said Ramirez. “Maybe you have an idea. Magic isn’t my thing. All I know is. We have one good thing going for us. But then, so do the other team. You can see who you’re fighting against before the fight, so you can try and plot some sort of strategy. That’s the theory anyway. All the ‘games’ I’ve seen have ended in slaughter. Because Kranach knows that individually, he has a chance. And as soon as he has a number advantage, pressure sets in.” “This is sick,” said Tarindil. “I know. But still, if we want out, we have to win.” A gong rumbled around the arena and Kranachs voice boomed out across the courtyard at them. “Right them Ramirez, let’s see what you and your pathetic mongrels are made of. Time to die!” Ramirez shouted back at him. “YOU WANT TO DANCE KRANACH. LETS DANCE THEN. THE ULTIMATE DANCE!” He turned his head to his friends. “I only ask one thing. I want Kranach. That bastard has a lot to pay for. Otherwise, keep your wits about you, or your dead. Use anything you can down there. Kranach and his cronies are masters of this game. They’ve done this lots of times. They know how it works down to the smallest detail.” “RIGHT THEN. LET THE GAME BEGIN! PICK YOUR FIRST FIGHTER!” Ramirez looked at the others, wondering who would volunteer to go first. Ladies and Gentleman, take my advice. Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/26/2007 at 09:28 (GMT -5) by PeanutGod] |
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Darren Grey Registered user Last page view: 4239 days, 11 hours, 4 minutes and 52 seconds ago. |
To everyone’s surprise Tarindil stepped forward. “Uh, man, you sure you want to do this? These guys look like they’ll pack a tough punch.” The elf smiled at Ramirez’s comment. “You have not yet seen all my skill, human. I can hold my own if needs be. Loli, stay here – this is too dangerous for you.” The fairy dragon jumped off his shoulder and glided down to the ground. In a grand movement the tall elf threw back his cloak, drew his sword and raised it high in the air. “A Ayssia! Silmar men spir! Elah doviel, no mas ahin!” Thurgin looked in surprise at the sword that had just been drawn. The blade was very long and slender, made of a bright white metal. The hilt was black, interlaced with thin silver lines, and a deep green emerald was set in the end. “Why Tarindil, I have not seen ye use this in battle before. It is beautiful work, I must say!” The elf nodded. “It was made by my brother, Haldarion Nomaeis, and no finer smith of mithril have I ever met. His works perhaps don’t seem as useful as the butchering toys of other blacksmiths, but in grace and beauty there is no equal. I have not yet stained this blade with the blood of lowly creatures, but now it is time for it to taste its first flesh.” He walked towards the stairs, a look of determination set on his face. The invisible barrier slowly yielded to him, and as he passed through it he felt it reinforce itself behind him stronger than before. He looked up across the courtyard and could see the opposition had now chosen his opponent. A thick-set man with dark skin came slowly down the stairs, holding a large scimitar in his left hand. The two of them walked towards the centre of the courtyard, and when they were both around 10 feet from each other they stopped and bowed. “I am Simildan Raodûn, swordsman from the desert town Karahan.” The elf nodded. “Tarindil Nomaeis, bard from the elven city of Finduras.” The two of them adjusted to fighting postures, and began to circle each other slowly, both of them sizing the other up. The eastern man was shorter than the elf, but wider and more muscled. The large sword he held seemed to be made of iron, but though it looked heavy the man held it lightly. He was left-handed and right-footed. That was good Tarindil realised – it meant the man had a shorter reach, and the elf would have more ease in targeting the human’s weaker right side. But it also meant he’d have to be careful of attacks against his sword arm, not his left side, and it was not something he was traditionally used to defending. “Nice sword you have there, elf,” said Simildan, grinning. “It shall make a good trophy.” “I’m afraid the dead don’t get to keep trophies.” Right, now was time to test this man’s defences... He leapt forward, his blade shining bright as it whirled through the air, striking two quick jabs towards the man’s head that were parried off by the curved scimitar. Simildan countered back with his point aimed at Tarindil’s chest, but with his longer reach the elf easily struck the blade up into the air and brought his sword scything down towards the man’s head. The human responded swiftly, rolling forwards to dodge and chopping at the elf’s legs, but Tarindil leapt nimbly into the air, kicking himself forwards off the man’s shoulder, and twisting mid-air to face his opponent again as he landed gracefully on the ground behind him. Simildan grunted and picked himself up, turning around and flexing his muscles before he charged the elf. Tarindil was surprised at the speed with which the man could move, and struggled to defend against his powerful jabs. The sword was no ordinary iron – it was stronger, but lighter and moved well through the air. He took a quick step back, then rushed in, feinting a downwards stroke but then rapidly swerving the blade round to the right. With difficulty the man deflected it, and backed off under the elf’s renewed and vicious attacks. Tardindil could see the best thing to do was keep attacking strongly, and not let the man take advantage of his superior strength. The elf was far faster, and if he kept pressurising he was bound to find an opening. He moved to the left, hoping to get an attack on the man’s right side, but Simildan was careful to turn with the elf, looking closely at his face to determine what he was planning. Neither had drawn blood yet, but it could all be over shortly with a single stroke. He moved forward, striking hard at the elf’s sword arm, and Tarindil spun to deflect it. The man moved towards his right side again, this time faster, and the elf swiped quickly to parry the attack a second time. But his shining sword sliced through thin air, and suddenly he felt his opponent’s scimitar carving up his left leg. He jumped back quickly, careful to land on his right foot, as the blade sliced rapidly upwards, shearing through strands of his white hair. He cursed himself for having fallen for such a feint. But he didn’t understand – the man shouldn’t have had that much reach. How did he-? He gasped as he looked at his opponent and realised. Simildan was now holding the scimitar in his right hand, with just as much confidence as he’d held it in his left. “Your reactions are good, elf. Not many in the west have seen the mirage blade and lived.” He tossed the sword between his two hands with amazing speed. “Of course, it would not be possible without my glorious eastern steel, far lighter and stronger than your simple western iron. Still, it’s over for you now. You don’t have the mobility to fend off my attacks for much longer.” The elf narrowed his eyes. The man was right. The gash in his leg was nasty, and would make it hard for him to defend himself, let alone attack. He steadied himself with his right foot behind him, taking on a more guarded stance as Simildan rushed in for the kill. Sparks flew and a ringing sound echoed across the room as the scimitar clashed hard against the mithril sword. The human brought his blade up and hacked down fast again, but Tarindil deflected it to the right. The elf sliced his sword to the left to buy himself time, but it quickly met a hard strike from the opposing scimitar that pressed it back towards the bard. Tarindil twisted his blade, forcing the opposing blade downwards. Simildan took a small jump back to avoid a quick jab from the elf, and leapt in with great momentum. Three times in quick succession he smote Tarindil’s defending sword, and the elf could feel his arm weakening under the heavy strain of fending off these ferocious attacks. Simildan carried on harder, adrenaline pumping fast through his veins, and he could see his victory was near. The elf made a vain swipe to his left, and he reacted swiftly to counter it. But his scimitar met no resistance and he felt a sudden piercing pain through his abdomen, rising up as the mithril blade tore through his chest. “But... how...?” he said as he collapsed face down into the dirt, his sword clanging loudly on the ground beside him. The elf looked down at the long sword that was now in his left hand. “Why yes, rather neat trick that.” He glanced over at the corpse. “Probably should have told you, I’m ambidextrous too. Oh, and mithril’s lighter than steel, and stronger.” He brought the point of his blade down with force on the side of the scimitar and the steel blade shattered into numerous shards. “Nice try though...” Tarindil took out a cloth and wiped his sword clean before sheathing it back in its black scabbard. He turned and limped back towards the stairs. Waldenbrook, the dwarven shopkeeper, mumbles: "I'd offer 9 gold pieces for yer dwarven child corpse." [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/26/2007 at 13:06 (GMT -5) by Darren Grey] |
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Battle bunny Registered user I'm just that cool Last page view: 5827 days, 7 hours, 22 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
- !!!Next space is reversed!!! - (\_/) (o.0) (> <) ( / \ ) Don't click this http://www.mindistortion.net/iwantyoursoul/?i_am=Darkcutter |
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Battle bunny Registered user I'm just that cool Last page view: 5827 days, 7 hours, 22 minutes and 31 seconds ago. |
With Tarindil winning, the morale of the dream team has significantly increased, about as much as the morale of Kranach's brigands' dropped. This encouraged the next one to step up for the battle - it was the gnome. Ramirez just smirked in a... strange way at Whadar. It was certain for him that the drunken fellow will draw the shorter one. The archer noticed this too, but didn't comment. The rest of the company also examined him as he entered the barrier ring. A loaded crossbow, a light leather armor, and a lousy dagger that probably won't help against the other archer - unlike Tarindil and his fine mithril blade he showed practically nothing that especially helped him to victory. However, the gnome didn't really seem to care. "Lousy lil' pouncy elf's, an da shiny stuff, just ain't nah style in dat, wa's dat nice in whacken' each other to bloody lil' pieces..." he muttered, as he gulped up another swig of booze. It is interesting indeed, how drunkenness would help Whadar, but then again, he must have been doing that all the time. As he entered the arena, he could see Scribald staring at him with a hostile look. Scribald was a stout but strong dwarf, height about the same as the gnome's, with a face that spelled hate to anybody looking at him, and it didn't help his appearance that he was scarred from head to toe. Nevertheless, he forced some manners into his voice as he greeted Whadar with a short, and not really warm "Hey there". "Ha, so you's stoled me x-bow, you lil' scummy midget!" And with this, the gnome loaded his crossbow, and was just about to pull the trigger when Kranach yelled: "Come on, you will just kill each other in the same time! I have got a better idea!" And with this, he beckoned to his mage. Whadar suddenly saw large rocks floating above their heads. He wanted to run, but then he realised the rocks were not dropped upon him. Instead, they were conjured to serve as barriers, which would probably make the match more interesting. "Le's see den, wot da lil' midget will show to mig'ty Whadar," he thought to himself as he released a crossbow bolt and quickly ducked. From the other side came a dirty laugh and the noise of a loaded crossbow. This wasn't really successful. In ten seconds, two bolts came soaring through the air, behind the rock that Scribald assumed as Whadar's position. So the gnome decided to throw some smartness in. He got a dagger into his hand, knowing that he can take his time as long as Scribald is standing by, doing nothing. Then he loaded his crossbow with a particularly special-seeming quarrel that had a small black on its tip. He was just starting to move out from the cover of the boulder he was sitting behind when he heard a sneer from just behind him! "Come on, what are you doing? Let's finish this before we die from old age, alright?" Whadar spun around but he couldn't avoid a quarrel coming for his leg. He jumped behind his rock as soon as he could, but the quarrel still hit, and what's worse, Whadar felt a stiff sensation too - the quarrel was poisoned! He had a better idea now though. The gnome quickly made a small puncture in his left leg with the dagger, and coated it in his poisoned blood. Then he unloaded the quarrel from the crossbow and held it in one hand, and the bolt in the other. "Now comes dying time, midget, nah doubt 'bout that!" And with this, he... threw the crossbow at Scribald's boulder. The dwarven marksman quickly jumped out, foolishly thinking it's just another quarrel to scavenge... however he didn't see Whadar, throwing the bolt at him like a dart. The throw wasn't strong, but it did project a darkness around Scribald's eyes. It was a quarrel of darkness, legendary for blinding the enemy without even needing to hit an eye. "What? AARGH!!!!" Scribald couldn't help but start stumbling around. And using this to his advantage, Whadar hopped to the dwarf and stabbed him repeatedly with the poisoned dagger. "Rest in everlast'n torment, weak lil' midget!" the gnome finally yelled, as Scribald passed out with a horrible death scream. But this was just good for Whadar. "Ach, thank ye, I real need dat' x-bow. And ya gotcha mead? Ev'n better!" With this, Whadar took the only two things that interested him of the dwarf's equipment: Far Slayer and the missiles, plus the booze. He could hear Kranach cursing despite the fact that the poison weakened him. But as he walked out of the barrier, he walked up to the company, grinned in a way that was not meant to be stupid, but became really stupid, and exclaimed: "Who's next? An' got sumone sum antidote? I heard pouncy elf's folk always gots these stuff," and he turned to Tarindil in such a way that he couldn't help but laugh. (\_/) (o.0) (> <) ( / \ ) Don't click this http://www.mindistortion.net/iwantyoursoul/?i_am=Darkcutter |
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Cat Lord Lord Registered user Not really Last page view: 5445 days, 4 hours, 5 minutes and 26 seconds ago. |
Ramirez nodded at Jarlgan "Big guy. your turn." The orc sighed and stepped forward. From the opposite side of the arena a large man stepped forward. He must have weighed over 250 pounds, not much less then the orc himself. What really got his attention was the belt of clubs he had along his waist. He had at least a dozen normal, two curved, and one that glowed black. On his back he had two clubs any normal man would have trouble swinging with two hands. Kranach laughed from the other side, "Heh, this is too easy. Kill him Alger." The man on the opposite side grinned, and pulled out two clubs. Although he was a few inches shorter then the orc, his arms were long allowing him to hurl his clubs very far. He outstretched his arm and a club shot at Jarlgan. He ducked, and it missed his head by an inch. He stood back up and pulled out his sword. All of a sudden he felt the wind get knocked out of him from his back. Jarlgan fell over and the club flew back to Algers hands. Alger smiled, and he threw both his clubs. Jarlgan roared, and didn't even try dodging. He didn't want to waste his strength, and they didn't hurt much. This time, the club hit him with the curve. It drew blood on his right arm, his sword arm. He grunted, and smiled as the wound cleared up. What surprised him was when a small scar appeared. Note to self: Don't do that. As the clubman readied to throw again, Jarlgan pulled out his shield. As two more clubs threw at him the orc used his shield to block them. As he looked at his shield a second after, it had two large dents where it was hit. Tossing aside the useless item, he pulled out his sword and used it as a greatsword. He rushed at the enemy, dodging one club and parrying another. Alger took out his two clubs and rolled his shoulders. Jarlgan ran at him, but got beat back by both clubs. No matter how good he was, he couldn't block both clubs. Alger went on the offensive, and struck a blow on his leg. Jarlgan went down, and Alger was about to strike the killing blow when Jarlgan rolled to the right. He jabbed upwards and buried his sword one of the clubs. It must be made of good wood, thought Jarlgan, like maple, or even iron. He tried to pull the sword out, but it was in too deep. Using his opponents lack of weapon, the hunman smashed his other club into Jarlgans head. Jarlgan saw stars, but managed to rip the entire club out of his enemies' hand. He jumped back and tried to pry the sword out. Alger pressed his advantage, swinging wildly. Jarlgan threw the sword/club aside and jumped on the enemy. Forcing him to the ground, he pinned down the arm with the club. Jarlgan punched Alger in the face. Alger forced upwards with his legs, kicking Jarlgan off him. Pulling his black club from his belt, he attacked the orc. Swinging for his head, he struck true. The orcs head felt as if an anvil had been dropped on him, and felt his berserk rage take hold of him. His eyes glowed fire, and his muscles tensed with the thought of new blood to be spilled. He hurled himself at his opponent, going with the will of his ancestors. He picked up the human by the neck and began throttling him. The human thrashed wildly for a minute or so, but then fell limp. The orc threw him to the ground, and took the only things that interested him: The black clubs and the curved ones. He picked up his sword from the club, having a minute of peace to pry it open. He calmly walked back to his side and said to the troll, "You're next." Homework is not meant for home! It's a sick verbal coincidence! -My brother |
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nOOb-mAsTeR Registered user Master of all things nOOby!!! Last page view: 5764 days, 1 hour and 10 seconds ago. |
Lawf'okong strode up to the arena, only clothed in his loincloth, and his staff. He quickly quaffed his potion of wonder he'd been saving and knew the spell he wanted:Create item.He roared the powerful words and his staff had transformed into a wonderful item:a lawful broadsword of weeping!Lawf'okong chuckled as his opponent, Traod feared the blade. But the troll was still not ready. Raising his powerful blade, he cast a chant,hoping Ka'Omsh favored him. Finally, a shield lay before him. Protector. He put on the shield and walked up to his opponent."Traod the Fallen, I will send you into an abyss of pain from whence you came!" Traod the Fallen was not so easily scared now:" Amazing that I will kill Lawf'okong,the Ancient One.DIE!"Suddenly a black bolt shot out of the mage's hands. Lawf'okong swiped his blade through the bolt, dispelling it." Your dark magic is weak against my blade, Traod." Traod chuckled,"We shall see..." Lawf'okong shot a stream of acid at his opponent, but his opponent dodged the stream, parrying with a greater mind blast!Lawf'okong thought,"What!?!?He has trained in the Art and the Mind?!?!This will be harder than a I thought..." Traod whispered in the troll's thoughts,"I can hear your mind, Lawf'okong.I can CONTROL IT TOO!!!" Suddenly Lawf'okong found himself pulling his blade closer and closer to his own neck, realizing that he had lost control! He then thought of something.He thought,"Traod, you want to know something?" The mage replied,"What, one who's blood is to be spilled?""Nothing, just that you lost your concentration and my blade is at your neck!" Traod found himself staring into the eyes of the troll, realizing his fatal mistake. Lawf'okong's willpower was higher, giving him control, and distracting him."Mercy, Lawf'okong!" The wizard stood, blade facing his opponent,"No Traod the Fallen, I will send you back whence you came!"With this he thrust his blade into the mage's heart and took the mage's amulet, that he had dropped in his fear. Lawf'okong strode back to his companions, without a word, eyes stuck on the amulet..... "You try to give Fang, the large dog the bone. Fang, the large dog says,"Do you know who I am, mortal?!?!" My smartest dog ever:D |
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F50 Registered user Last page view: 5476 days, 2 hours, 30 minutes and 20 seconds ago. |
Thurgin carefully observed Tarindil’s battle, but only occasionally looked upon the other fights. Being a Dwarf, he did his best to examine the stone and craftsmanship of the arena. To his surprise, it seemed quite corporeal. It consisted of numerous granite blocks. The craftsmanship was foreign to him however. “Slightly Elvish perhaps with some seemingly Orcish accents. Half of the designs do not resemble anything I have ever seen.” muttered Thurgin. He paced back and forth across the part of the platform he could traverse, tapping lightly on the stonework to glean whatever information he could gain. When Lawf’okong returned, Thurgin elected himself as the next contender. Algor met him on the field. Thurgin spat. The Human chuckled. The battle began abruptly, both contestants beating at each other with learned forms and variations, both landing hefty knocks to each others shields, blocking, and kicking each other’s shins. The Dwarf was the first to use his legs as a weapon, saving himself a nasty blow by using the element of surprise. Algor reciprocated, but Dwarves are built stockier than Men, and Algor got the worst of it. He made up for this by moving much faster than Thurgin. It was not because Algor was faster, although that was a factor. Something else was at play. Thurgin eventually had to take numerous hits due to Algor’s speed. Algor hammered Thurgin into a chair. He twisted the chair to block Algor’s advance on his vulnerable position and stood up. Algor threw the chair at him. “A rather useless move on your part.” Thurgin taunted. “Aye.” Algor replied as he tossed a table. This would have been useless, had Algor been slower with his axe. As it was, Thurgin was knocked over with Algor’s axe imbedded in his flesh. Thurgin thrusted upwards weakly with his axe. Algor wrenched it from his grip with spiteful effort and struck down. Thurgin tried to use his shield, but he was not fast enough. A large chunk of his arm was sliced apart. “Useless.” Algor said. Thurgin freed Algor’s axe from his flesh and prayed. His wounds were healed, and his strength returned. Algor’s axe was both lighter and stronger than his own, it was made of Eternium. Thurgin had never had the honor of wielding such a fine weapon. With it, he outmatched Algor. “Yer axe certainly isn’t useless.” Thurgin said smugly. Algor turned white. Still it was some time before Algor lay dead upon granite floor. Thurgin surveyed the scene trying to find some piece of new information before he turned to leave, tapping his axe lightly on the stonework as he went. "If the bread weights that much in the draklor chain, then it's no wonder so many die of starvation. AND - what kind of IRON RATION weights as much as an iron shield?! A dinner for four, oven included? ;)" -Maelstrom [Edited 1 time, last edit on 1/28/2007 at 18:33 (GMT -5) by F50] |
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