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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: 2250662" data-attributes="member: 5507"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 12px">A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color: RoyalBlue"><span style="font-size: 15px">Chapter 4: The Eight Blades of Talagbar</span></span></strong></p><p></p><p><strong><span style="color: RoyalBlue">"Kill all three, retrieve the staff, then report back to me"</span></strong></p><p></p><p>With a careful step, Milo tiptoed into the first antechamber of the Dwarven mines. He could feel the shivering, scared form of Isplit curled up in his pocket. Motioning for his companions to follow, the halfling padded carefully across the room and jutted his head around the way out, making sure there were no ghosts waiting to pounce. </p><p></p><p>With a sigh of relief he turns back to his friends, "okay so far guys. Not a sighting of those creepy undead!" </p><p></p><p>Torious stood anchored in the door, his holy symbol held before him like a duelling pistol. Thalin tapped <em>Erifeci</em> nervously on the cracked flagstones, his mind loaded with the trigger words of a number of get-the-hell-out-of-here spells.</p><p></p><p>Milo grinned excitedly. He <em>loved</em> being the brave one.</p><p></p><p>The room that the three companions stood in would probably have been some sort of guardroom when the Dwarves still mined here. It had just enough height for Torious to walk easily under and perhaps double that in width. Separating the room in two was a very thick, partially shattered pane of glass slotted between two heavy posts, one of which had collapsed to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Behind the broken glass was a quite formal setup of a desk and two chairs. It reminded Milo of the tax-office in Marsember. Thalin carefully made his way through the cracked glass and began to check over the table and chairs. Milo kept watch down the next tunnel as Torious scraped awkwardly over the jagged glass.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>- - - - - - - - - -</strong></p><p></p><p>Lyle threw the set of keys to the floor with his remaining hand as the barkeep stammered to apologise.</p><p>"You idiot. Why couldn't you have just asked where they were staying rather than where they were going? Would it have been that damned difficult?" spat Lyle.</p><p>"I'm sorry Sir Blackrock..."</p><p></p><p>Lyle lashed the man hard across the face with the back of his hand, "Do not use my name. Say that again and I'll feed your skin to my friend's horse."</p><p></p><p>Lyle gestured out of the open tavern door. The man in red sat impatiently on a huge crimson stallion. The horse was more demon than animal. It stamped angrily.</p><p></p><p>"I'm sorry m'lord. It was a slip of the tongue."</p><p>"Then give me your tongue, if you can't control it" levelled Lyle, his lonely arm moving to his hunting belt.</p><p>"But sir, I've no more information!"</p><p>"We pay you kindly and you fail in the smallest of tasks! I ask one thing of you and you spit nothing in my hand."</p><p>"Oh please gods," the barkeep cowered backwards as Lyle withdrew a long knife.</p><p>"No gods will answer you fool. You've missed your chance."</p><p></p><p>Lyle slid onto and over the counter, quickly pinning the barkeep against the wall with his bandaged stump.</p><p>"Any last words?" Lyle cackled as he savagely plunged the knife into the barkeep's mouth.</p><p></p><p>Outside, the man in red waved away another passerby as a gargled scream shattered the night quiet.</p><p></p><p>Lyle stalked from behind the bar, a bloody pulp in his hand. A whining croak spluttered from the barkeep. Lyle pushed through the doors of the Headless Woman and cast the tongue in front of the red horse. It greedily stooped low.</p><p></p><p>"That was a touch unnecessary Lyle," sighed the man in red, "he was a good informant."</p><p>"Keep your opinions to yourself," snapped Lyle. </p><p></p><p>Lyle, using his only arm, clambered unsteadily onto a sleek black riding horse. Lyle trotted once around his companion, who turned in his saddle and handed Lyle a small leather bag.</p><p>“Kill all three, retrieve the staff, then report back to me,” said the man in red with a clipped formality, then pressed the bag firmly into Lyle’s open palm.</p><p>“Use these as you wish.” </p><p>“I’ll finish that mage myself. the Abyss itself won’t know such suffering.” hissed Lyle, his scar twitching erratically.</p><p>“No. You’ll do as instructed. Now go.” Answered the man in a commanding tone.</p><p></p><p>Without another word, the man in red gouged his boots deep into the stallion’s sides and bolted away in a cloud of dust, heading eastwards. Lyle watched him go before opening the leather pouch and looking at the contents – a handful of black onyx gems, a small scroll, two strange coins with a green mailed fist on one side and a human skull on the other, and a folded sheet with instructions on what to do. </p><p></p><p>Lyle shook the bag once, his mind deep in thought, then guided his horse slowly around. With a whisper in its ear, they cantered Northwards, towards the Talagbar mines.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong>- - - - - - - - - -</strong></p><p></p><p>“And you didn’t check this room at all?” said Torious, looking away from inspecting the thick glass pane and staring at Milo. Torious couldn't understand what the thick glass was used for.</p><p>“Well no, not really," said Milo, twitching eagerly to continue onwards, "It’s boring. There’s nothing in here.” </p><p>“You mean this boring?” said Thalin, holding a small red gem to the torchlight. </p><p>Milo looked at it once then rolled his eyes.</p><p>“They won’t get us any money at all.” Milo said matter-of-factly. </p><p></p><p>With that, he pulled open the second door wider and stepped into the corridor beyond, waving his torch like a sword. Torious and Thalin threw a wary look at each other then left what they were doing and followed the halfling. </p><p></p><p>As Thalin exited, he brushed a hanging spider web with his hand, </p><p>“Well, at least they like this place.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Spider_Jerusalem, post: 2250662, member: 5507"] [B][SIZE=3]A Chronicle of Ice, Luck and Honour[/SIZE][/B] [B][COLOR=RoyalBlue][SIZE=4]Chapter 4: The Eight Blades of Talagbar[/SIZE][/COLOR][/B] [B][COLOR=RoyalBlue]"Kill all three, retrieve the staff, then report back to me"[/COLOR][/B] With a careful step, Milo tiptoed into the first antechamber of the Dwarven mines. He could feel the shivering, scared form of Isplit curled up in his pocket. Motioning for his companions to follow, the halfling padded carefully across the room and jutted his head around the way out, making sure there were no ghosts waiting to pounce. With a sigh of relief he turns back to his friends, "okay so far guys. Not a sighting of those creepy undead!" Torious stood anchored in the door, his holy symbol held before him like a duelling pistol. Thalin tapped [I]Erifeci[/I] nervously on the cracked flagstones, his mind loaded with the trigger words of a number of get-the-hell-out-of-here spells. Milo grinned excitedly. He [I]loved[/I] being the brave one. The room that the three companions stood in would probably have been some sort of guardroom when the Dwarves still mined here. It had just enough height for Torious to walk easily under and perhaps double that in width. Separating the room in two was a very thick, partially shattered pane of glass slotted between two heavy posts, one of which had collapsed to the ground. Behind the broken glass was a quite formal setup of a desk and two chairs. It reminded Milo of the tax-office in Marsember. Thalin carefully made his way through the cracked glass and began to check over the table and chairs. Milo kept watch down the next tunnel as Torious scraped awkwardly over the jagged glass. [CENTER][B]- - - - - - - - - -[/B][/CENTER] Lyle threw the set of keys to the floor with his remaining hand as the barkeep stammered to apologise. "You idiot. Why couldn't you have just asked where they were staying rather than where they were going? Would it have been that damned difficult?" spat Lyle. "I'm sorry Sir Blackrock..." Lyle lashed the man hard across the face with the back of his hand, "Do not use my name. Say that again and I'll feed your skin to my friend's horse." Lyle gestured out of the open tavern door. The man in red sat impatiently on a huge crimson stallion. The horse was more demon than animal. It stamped angrily. "I'm sorry m'lord. It was a slip of the tongue." "Then give me your tongue, if you can't control it" levelled Lyle, his lonely arm moving to his hunting belt. "But sir, I've no more information!" "We pay you kindly and you fail in the smallest of tasks! I ask one thing of you and you spit nothing in my hand." "Oh please gods," the barkeep cowered backwards as Lyle withdrew a long knife. "No gods will answer you fool. You've missed your chance." Lyle slid onto and over the counter, quickly pinning the barkeep against the wall with his bandaged stump. "Any last words?" Lyle cackled as he savagely plunged the knife into the barkeep's mouth. Outside, the man in red waved away another passerby as a gargled scream shattered the night quiet. Lyle stalked from behind the bar, a bloody pulp in his hand. A whining croak spluttered from the barkeep. Lyle pushed through the doors of the Headless Woman and cast the tongue in front of the red horse. It greedily stooped low. "That was a touch unnecessary Lyle," sighed the man in red, "he was a good informant." "Keep your opinions to yourself," snapped Lyle. Lyle, using his only arm, clambered unsteadily onto a sleek black riding horse. Lyle trotted once around his companion, who turned in his saddle and handed Lyle a small leather bag. “Kill all three, retrieve the staff, then report back to me,” said the man in red with a clipped formality, then pressed the bag firmly into Lyle’s open palm. “Use these as you wish.” “I’ll finish that mage myself. the Abyss itself won’t know such suffering.” hissed Lyle, his scar twitching erratically. “No. You’ll do as instructed. Now go.” Answered the man in a commanding tone. Without another word, the man in red gouged his boots deep into the stallion’s sides and bolted away in a cloud of dust, heading eastwards. Lyle watched him go before opening the leather pouch and looking at the contents – a handful of black onyx gems, a small scroll, two strange coins with a green mailed fist on one side and a human skull on the other, and a folded sheet with instructions on what to do. Lyle shook the bag once, his mind deep in thought, then guided his horse slowly around. With a whisper in its ear, they cantered Northwards, towards the Talagbar mines. [CENTER][B]- - - - - - - - - -[/B][/CENTER] “And you didn’t check this room at all?” said Torious, looking away from inspecting the thick glass pane and staring at Milo. Torious couldn't understand what the thick glass was used for. “Well no, not really," said Milo, twitching eagerly to continue onwards, "It’s boring. There’s nothing in here.” “You mean this boring?” said Thalin, holding a small red gem to the torchlight. Milo looked at it once then rolled his eyes. “They won’t get us any money at all.” Milo said matter-of-factly. With that, he pulled open the second door wider and stepped into the corridor beyond, waving his torch like a sword. Torious and Thalin threw a wary look at each other then left what they were doing and followed the halfling. As Thalin exited, he brushed a hanging spider web with his hand, “Well, at least they like this place.” [/QUOTE]
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