The Blade of Phoee (Updated 12/08/08) - Page 10




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  1. #91
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    I could see you doing that. I'm surprised actually that you haven't done it yet.

    Of course, if and when you decide to worship yourself, that merely translates to one more dead god in my world.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Funeris
    I could see you doing that. I'm surprised actually that you haven't done it yet.

    Of course, if and when you decide to worship yourself, that merely translates to one more dead god in my world.
    Hmm...that sounds less like religious rivalry and more like a threat to me.

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    Threats? Who me??
    I only threaten my players...well everytime I see them...so...you couldn't be talking about me

    Let the update rampage continue....


    INCOMING!!!
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    Chapter 2: Journey into Darkness Continued

    The sun had risen halfway toward its zenith, casting a blazing ring of light upon the field. The light provided sanctuary from the encroaching edges of the forest. In contrast to the glorious warmth of the field, the forest held a cool, menacing glare directed toward the wounded priest and his guardians. Standing imperiously, the woods seemed to be waiting for the day to end. Its voracious appetite would resume with the setting sun.

    Within the shadowed forest, dull orbs reflected the autumn light. It seemed all of the denizens of the dark wood waited along the edges. Their eyes blazed with curiosity or appetite. The tangy scent of spilt blood was heavy in the air.

    “She should’ve been back by now,” whimpered Gabrielle.

    “She’ll be back any moment. Just keep your bow trained on those…animals.” Aramil had his own bow drawn and nocked. His arrow and sight swept across the edge of the forest. Wearily he continued his watch but his eyelids were growing heavier with each passing moment.

    A garbled noise snapped Aramil’s attention from the fateful jaws of sleep. “Gabrielle! Just this once, could you please shut up?! I’m trying to focus.”

    It…it wasn’t me,” the halfling whispered. “It was Cassock.”

    Aramil turned his gaze to the near-corpse. Streams of sweat trickled down the cleric’s face. The fever’s grip was draining the priest’s life. Aramil leaned closer; Cassock’s lips trembled slightly. Aramil slid in closer, turning half his head and listening intently to the shallow breaths.

    Father…”

    The half-elf waited patiently for Cassock to finish his statement. Suddenly, a snap resounded through the clearing. Aramil scuttled backward from the priest while pivoting toward the sound. A blur of motion hurtled toward the edge of the forest. The arrow leapt toward the forest edge.

    Anastrianna burst out of the foliage. The shrill whistle of the arrow forewarned the Lady. She fell to the right causing the arrow to pass harmlessly through air. She rolled to keep pace, returning to her feet and closing the last of the separating distance.

    “I’m lucky you couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn,” Ana coldly stated. She poured through her sack, removing the three vials. She examined each thoroughly for cracks and leaks. All of the fluids were crystal clear and none had escaped the sealed, cork plungers.

    “And you’re lucky these weren’t broken.” She waved the vials importantly in the air. “Quickly, remove the bandaging,” the Lady commanded.

    Aramil loosened the tough leather bandages, revealing Cassock’s gaping chest wound. Gabrielled spun and purged again. Her bile once again splattered upon the unforgiving forest earth. Although Anastrianna had managed to slide the important bits back into the priest’s body, blood still seeped slowly from the hole. Ana popped the cork from one of the vials and moved to empty its contents.

    Aramil’s quick grasp stopped the Lady. “Why not use all three. He definitely needs them. Look,” he pointed toward an inky, black residue, “is that infection?”

    “I don’t know. I’m not a priest.” Ana hissed, exasperatedly. Large, purplish rings encircled her bloodshot eyes. “We’ll only use one, for now. If he needs more we’ll give him more. But we may need these other vials later on.” She twisted her hand, spilling the contents upon Cassock’s torso.

    Cassock convulsed, his body gripped by fevered twitching. “Father!!” he screamed as his body bolted upright. Before their eyes, his flesh was knitting itself back together. Bone reset and firmed. Organs regenerated their ragged sections. Cassock stood weakly, his wide-eyes glaring around the circle. His hands felt the tender wounds, trained to examine the wounds of others. He turned his knowledge toward himself.

    “How do you feel?” queried Lady Ana.

    “I’ll live,” Cassock replied. “Where?”

    “I’m sorry?”

    “Where did you get the potion?”

    “Well, I had to run back to town. Tobus sold them to me.”

    You did what? I would’ve rather died. I will not be indebted to that Ara’Kull worshipper. How many did you purchase? How many did you use on me? Have you poisoned me?!

    Ana’s mouth hung agape. Her body ached in ways it had never before. The leather armor she wore had chapped her entire body. It chapped body parts she had not even known she had. Blood was caked to her armor. Sweat clung to every piece of gear. An unholy smell embraced her sore body. And all of her pain, all of it was for an ungrateful man. She shuddered, her anger barely confined.

    “Let’s have them!” Cassock reached out, awaiting the vials. Ana flung the other two toward the priest. Cassock lifted them into the air. “Lesson number one, children. Are you watching? Lesson number one: Never, ever trust a Priest of Ara’Kull.” He slammed the two potions onto a large, flat rock. Liquid bounced from the rock, spilling upon the grass. One section of grass seemed purified by the liquid. Its blades grew upward and became a vibrant green. Another patch blackened, withering quickly.

    “Consider yourselves educated. That would have killed me.”

    Ana threw her arms up into the air and stalked off. Near the edge of forest, she curled upon the forest floor and sunk into a deep, dark sleep.
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  • #95
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    There are only a couple of people Cassock has any trust in.
    And a priest of a b!tch god isn't one of them.

    But a vaulable lesson learned by the party at his rage.
    I think to date only Aramil has used a healing potion since.
    Cassock's meager healing magic has had to suffice, that and just pure resting. Though I don't recall being allowed to rest very much.
    Bill
    The Yeti aka Magnus the Archmage
    ~"Henry Bowman lives within each and everyone of us, and it's time to start acting like it. "
    A Story Hour set in Valus by Funeris
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=97346

    Funeris's Second Story Hour (where he is the DM).
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=130328

    My Story Hour Set in Valus 20 years after Funeris's Valus SH.
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=133211

    Bryon_Soulweaver - "Stupid nobles, hope Mangus blasts them (and I woundn't doubt if he could)."

  • #96
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    No rest for the wicked
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  • #97
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    There never is. There never is.....
    So when's the next update Mister I have a connection at home again?

    I know you have tons written up awaiting us salivating for more.
    Bill
    The Yeti aka Magnus the Archmage
    ~"Henry Bowman lives within each and everyone of us, and it's time to start acting like it. "
    A Story Hour set in Valus by Funeris
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=97346

    Funeris's Second Story Hour (where he is the DM).
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=130328

    My Story Hour Set in Valus 20 years after Funeris's Valus SH.
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=133211

    Bryon_Soulweaver - "Stupid nobles, hope Mangus blasts them (and I woundn't doubt if he could)."

  • #98
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    I know you have tons written up
    ....

    ::glances around then sheepishly shrugs shoulders::

    Nope. I don't have tons written up....still we'll see if I can't carry this update rampage through Friday at least. I know this weekend I'll be busy (commissioned art project for VMI)...so I'm not sure I'll get around to updating this weekend. Expect an update later today (maybe this evening)...then Friday around lunch time (I'm only working half a day...I'm so lazy).

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  • #99
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    Quote Originally Posted by Funeris
    ....

    ::glances around then sheepishly shrugs shoulders::

    Nope. I don't have tons written up....still we'll see if I can't carry this update rampage through Friday at least. I know this weekend I'll be busy (commissioned art project for VMI)...so I'm not sure I'll get around to updating this weekend. Expect an update later today (maybe this evening)...then Friday around lunch time (I'm only working half a day...I'm so lazy).

    mmmm it's 11pm and no update.........
    Bill
    The Yeti aka Magnus the Archmage
    ~"Henry Bowman lives within each and everyone of us, and it's time to start acting like it. "
    A Story Hour set in Valus by Funeris
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=97346

    Funeris's Second Story Hour (where he is the DM).
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=130328

    My Story Hour Set in Valus 20 years after Funeris's Valus SH.
    http://www.enworld.org/showthread.php?t=133211

    Bryon_Soulweaver - "Stupid nobles, hope Mangus blasts them (and I woundn't doubt if he could)."

  • #100
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    Hey! Its 11:20 and here it comes....

    I have to make my deadlines, after all.

    INCOMING!!!
    ----------------------------------------------------------
    Non Omnis Moriar.


    First Writing Credit

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