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A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour - updated 19th December
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<blockquote data-quote="Spider_Jerusalem" data-source="post: 2236527" data-attributes="member: 5507"><p><strong><span style="color: RoyalBlue">"Silver! Silver!"</span></strong></p><p></p><p>Dariel dropped from Thalin’s shoulder and swooped out of danger. Thalin could almost feel his veins bursting as he hauled himself to his feet. An agonised scream escaped his lips. </p><p></p><p>His blood shuddered from burning forks to numbing daggers as a nimbus of frost crawled over the mage. His protection in place, he maneuvered to face his opponent with a grunt.</p><p></p><p>A black-feathered bolt scythed through the air, whistling straight between the mage’s shoulder blades. With a crack, the bolt shattered on the mages chest. Frozen slivers exploded in all directions. </p><p></p><p>Lyle stood shocked, then his face fell into a gargoyle sneer. Thalin knew he had to push his advantage. Picking <em>Shard</em> up in his untrained left, he charged through the debris of black splinters. Thalin knew he had to command all of his skills if he were to survive the next few moments.</p><p></p><p>Milo turned away from the King's body. He watched the Doomguard bring their swords down again and again into the now unconscious form of Torious. Milo slid forward to attack, but paused and delved into a side pocket on his pouch. A handful of silver coins emerged.</p><p></p><p>Milo leapt into the air and using what limited goblin language he had learnt, shouted </p><p>“Silver! Silver!”, then hurled the coins skyward.</p><p></p><p>Two of the Doomguard swung their heads round and stared as it began to rain silver. They squirmed away from the throng around Torious and began scrabbling in the dirt. Their faces a blur of greed as they clutched as many coins as they could. As their friends disengaged, the other Doomguard jumped away and began to tussle over the coins, leaving the nearly dead Torious lying in a bloody heap.</p><p></p><p>Thalin brought Shard up in a lazy arc. His left hand offered no real power compared to his right. With a laugh, Lyle clattered the scimitar aside with a deft blow from his own wickedly sharp short sword. </p><p></p><p>The man forced Thalin back with a quick flicker of his sword at the mage’s face. Looking for any weakness his opponent might display, Thalin noticed his opponents chainmail slide aside for a moment. Underneath, a faded family badge depicted a black crag against a starry sky. </p><p></p><p>Lyle gave a strangled shout as he followed Thalin's eyes. Quick as a snake, Lyle darted forwards and drove his sword into Thalin’s stomach, covering his family’s badge as he moved. The mage fell backwards onto the floor, his hands clenched tight over the deep wound. Blood poured steadily into the dust. Dariel had plummeted like a stone into the trees. </p><p>Lyle spat on the mage's chest as he closed in for the kill, "poor little lost boy, you've wandered too far this day..."</p><p></p><p>Milo darted through the distracted Doomguard and crouched next to Torious. The priest’s helmet had almost been sundered through and his breastplate was punctured beyond repair. The Aasimar was unconscious. Or dead. </p><p></p><p>With a quick prayer to Tymora to help guide Torious back to the living, Milo uncorked a small green bottle. His mother had told him only to use it if he ever got hurt, but this seemed a good enough time to use it in any case. </p><p></p><p>Milo upended the bottle, tipping the potion into the priest’s mouth. Torious coughed violently, spluttering some of the potion into the air, then sat up. Through the riddled breastplate, his wounds were already mere scratches. </p><p></p><p>The Doomguard, having collected every last coin, suddenly broke into a racket of barks and squeals as they pointed at the dead body of their King. </p><p></p><p>Torious stood up dramatically and threw his helmet to the side, picking <em>Justicar</em> from the ground. His scars blasted to life, bathing the goblins in the light of Tyr. With a snarl of rage, Torious issued a challenge to the Doomguard themselves. With a quick look at each other, and then their dead King, the Doomguard turned and fled. Torious wavered triumphant for a moment then collapsed to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Thalin scrabbled backwards as the man advanced, his hands desperately clutching at the ground behind him. His hands found the clothed shaft of <em>Erifeci</em>. With a quick roll sideways, Thalin shook the bandages away from the staff and with a shout of rage swung the staff towards his opponent. Thalin screamed the command word “Ice” as the staff carved through the air.</p><p></p><p>The iced tip shimmered cold blue, a trail of frost left in its wake.</p><p></p><p>Too confident in his advantage, Lyle had stepped too far. With a sickening crackle then a snap, Lyle's sword arm frosted completely, then broke off altogether. His arm fell to the ground with a soft thud. A scream of horrified pain erupted from somewhere deep within Lyle. </p><p></p><p>Lyle stumbled backwards, clutching his shattered stump in his left hand. He stared one last time at his dismembered arm, then dashed into the tree line and disappeared into the shadows.</p><p></p><p>The battle was won. The three companions were alive. Milo (the only one in a spritely state, his small body a bottle-rocket for the adrenalin now pumping through him) quickly checked that neither Lyle nor the Doomguard were heading back for a second round, then rejoined his companions. Dariel had hopped back to his master, and Isplit had awakened from a short nap.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Spider_Jerusalem, post: 2236527, member: 5507"] [B][COLOR=RoyalBlue]"Silver! Silver!"[/COLOR][/B] Dariel dropped from Thalin’s shoulder and swooped out of danger. Thalin could almost feel his veins bursting as he hauled himself to his feet. An agonised scream escaped his lips. His blood shuddered from burning forks to numbing daggers as a nimbus of frost crawled over the mage. His protection in place, he maneuvered to face his opponent with a grunt. A black-feathered bolt scythed through the air, whistling straight between the mage’s shoulder blades. With a crack, the bolt shattered on the mages chest. Frozen slivers exploded in all directions. Lyle stood shocked, then his face fell into a gargoyle sneer. Thalin knew he had to push his advantage. Picking [I]Shard[/I] up in his untrained left, he charged through the debris of black splinters. Thalin knew he had to command all of his skills if he were to survive the next few moments. Milo turned away from the King's body. He watched the Doomguard bring their swords down again and again into the now unconscious form of Torious. Milo slid forward to attack, but paused and delved into a side pocket on his pouch. A handful of silver coins emerged. Milo leapt into the air and using what limited goblin language he had learnt, shouted “Silver! Silver!”, then hurled the coins skyward. Two of the Doomguard swung their heads round and stared as it began to rain silver. They squirmed away from the throng around Torious and began scrabbling in the dirt. Their faces a blur of greed as they clutched as many coins as they could. As their friends disengaged, the other Doomguard jumped away and began to tussle over the coins, leaving the nearly dead Torious lying in a bloody heap. Thalin brought Shard up in a lazy arc. His left hand offered no real power compared to his right. With a laugh, Lyle clattered the scimitar aside with a deft blow from his own wickedly sharp short sword. The man forced Thalin back with a quick flicker of his sword at the mage’s face. Looking for any weakness his opponent might display, Thalin noticed his opponents chainmail slide aside for a moment. Underneath, a faded family badge depicted a black crag against a starry sky. Lyle gave a strangled shout as he followed Thalin's eyes. Quick as a snake, Lyle darted forwards and drove his sword into Thalin’s stomach, covering his family’s badge as he moved. The mage fell backwards onto the floor, his hands clenched tight over the deep wound. Blood poured steadily into the dust. Dariel had plummeted like a stone into the trees. Lyle spat on the mage's chest as he closed in for the kill, "poor little lost boy, you've wandered too far this day..." Milo darted through the distracted Doomguard and crouched next to Torious. The priest’s helmet had almost been sundered through and his breastplate was punctured beyond repair. The Aasimar was unconscious. Or dead. With a quick prayer to Tymora to help guide Torious back to the living, Milo uncorked a small green bottle. His mother had told him only to use it if he ever got hurt, but this seemed a good enough time to use it in any case. Milo upended the bottle, tipping the potion into the priest’s mouth. Torious coughed violently, spluttering some of the potion into the air, then sat up. Through the riddled breastplate, his wounds were already mere scratches. The Doomguard, having collected every last coin, suddenly broke into a racket of barks and squeals as they pointed at the dead body of their King. Torious stood up dramatically and threw his helmet to the side, picking [I]Justicar[/I] from the ground. His scars blasted to life, bathing the goblins in the light of Tyr. With a snarl of rage, Torious issued a challenge to the Doomguard themselves. With a quick look at each other, and then their dead King, the Doomguard turned and fled. Torious wavered triumphant for a moment then collapsed to the ground. Thalin scrabbled backwards as the man advanced, his hands desperately clutching at the ground behind him. His hands found the clothed shaft of [I]Erifeci[/I]. With a quick roll sideways, Thalin shook the bandages away from the staff and with a shout of rage swung the staff towards his opponent. Thalin screamed the command word “Ice” as the staff carved through the air. The iced tip shimmered cold blue, a trail of frost left in its wake. Too confident in his advantage, Lyle had stepped too far. With a sickening crackle then a snap, Lyle's sword arm frosted completely, then broke off altogether. His arm fell to the ground with a soft thud. A scream of horrified pain erupted from somewhere deep within Lyle. Lyle stumbled backwards, clutching his shattered stump in his left hand. He stared one last time at his dismembered arm, then dashed into the tree line and disappeared into the shadows. The battle was won. The three companions were alive. Milo (the only one in a spritely state, his small body a bottle-rocket for the adrenalin now pumping through him) quickly checked that neither Lyle nor the Doomguard were heading back for a second round, then rejoined his companions. Dariel had hopped back to his master, and Isplit had awakened from a short nap. [/QUOTE]
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A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour - updated 19th December
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