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Ceramic DM autumn '03(final judegment: new ceramic dm champ!)
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<blockquote data-quote="NiTessine" data-source="post: 1165915" data-attributes="member: 475"><p>Here you go. I present to you...</p><p>__________________________________________</p><p><strong><u>Transformations</u></strong></p><p></p><p>Crimban had journeyed long to reach this point. He was standing in an underground cavern, deep in the Blood Crag mountain range. He had gone without food or sleep for three days, magic as his only sustenance, a mix of burning wrath and gnawing worry his motivating force. Four days ago, the Morvandian assassin Cullevere had snuck into the manor of the Maerthan noble family in the city of Veren, kidnapping the nobleman's daughter. At the scene of crime, he had left a note that went: "Let's see your fat magician solve this one", a taunt to the portly Crimban, known in the past for foiling the ambitious empire's dreams of conquest. When the day after dawned, Crimban was on his way to rescue the girl and slay the assassin. He had chosen to go alone, knowing he could cover more ground with his magic than fifty light cavalry scouts.</p><p></p><p>And so he had. Three days later, he stood a thousand miles from his starting point, in a region impassable to any horse. In front of the cave were the remnants of a campfire, still hot. His prey could not be more than a few minutes ahead. Now, Crimban was staring at what his foe must've fled through. It was a portal, he reasoned, but like no portal he had ever seen. Its uneven edges reminded him of a burst boil. The gate looked like a <strong>pit</strong> gaping into the clear, blue water of some tropical ocean, yet it lay on a vertical surface.</p><p></p><p>Crimban knew not what lay ahead, but the spell he used to trace the girl led through the portal. His instincts told him it was a trap, had been telling him from the moment he had read the assassin's note, but his prime goal was to find and save the young noble. Crimban swallowed, and reached to touch the portal's surface. He felt the familiar, cool tingle of a magical substance. With a deep breath, he stepped through.</p><p></p><p>There was the moment of nausea that accompanied all magical travel. He reached the other side, breathing a sigh of relief when his feet met sturdy ground, and landed in a crouch, his ornate magical staff pointed forward like a spear. The room he had landed in was an opulently decorated chamber, reminiscent of a Verenna noble manor.</p><p></p><p>"Well done, Crimban. We've been here for not five hours when you already come calling," said a voice from close by, tinged with amusement. The mage rose up, turning to gaze upon the speaker. He saw the man grinning in a manner that put to Crimban's mind an utter <strong>psycho</strong>path, looking from over the shoulder of the Verenna girl. He held a blade at her throat, glistening with a green ointment. Poisoned blade, Crimban noted. The girl looked tired and sad, but the wizard could see no real injuries. She looked vacantly at the floor, her face streaked with tears.</p><p></p><p>"If you are wondering, by the way, we are in a self-contained pocket plane. No summons can reach the outside world, or even the Upper Planes. </p><p></p><p>"Don't worry of her, she is quite unharmed. I just had to put her mind to sleep to facilitate easy travel. It is not her that I have quarrel with, but you, good Crimban," the assassin said, smiling.</p><p>"I thought as much, but I am here to save the girl, not bandy words with a hired blade. Release her, and you may yet walk out of here."</p><p></p><p>The assassin scowled.</p><p>"The girl? You wish the girl, you may have her." As he spoke, he thrust the girl at Crimban, his knife cutting deeply into her throat. Blood cascaded over the blade and his hand, as she fell to the wizard's feet, lifeless.</p><p>"And now, we may get to the matter at-" The assassin was cut short by the burst of magic from Crimban's wand that hit him squarely in the chest.</p><p>"I've nothing to talk with you," the wizard spoke grimly, as the assassin's amusement quickly turned to horror. The spell was no ordinary evocation, he realized, as he felt his limbs stiffen. He lost the ability to move, the sense of touch, and finally, his scream of panic froze in his throat as his lungs and finally head turned into cold, dirty grey stone. </p><p></p><p>Crimban was not yet finished with the man, however. As soon as the calcification was complete, he mouthed the words to another spell. When the final words left his lips, the stone statue's other leg simply exploded into wet <strong>mud</strong>. The transformation quickly spread to the other parts of the man's body that first lost their stony hardness, his limbs breaking off under their own weight, and then lost even that form, turning into wet pulp.</p><p></p><p>The portly wizard looked approvingly upon what remained of his foe, and then cast the third spell. The mud regained some cohesion it'd had as a man, and the dirty gray gradually turned into fleshy pink. A pair of <strong>eyes</strong> took form, looking at Crimban, imploring him to end the torment. Once the change was complete, the Morvandian assassin was but a flesh-encased puddle on the ground. Its surface rippled as it tried to use its once strong muscles that were now without the support of a skeleton. Crimban leaned closer and said:</p><p>"Show a little backbone."</p><p></p><p>He left the assassin there, like that. Once he was out, he sealed the portal, and then collapsed the cave it had nestled in. With the dead girl slung over his shoulder, Crimban began his trek back to Veren. She could always be resurrected.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="NiTessine, post: 1165915, member: 475"] Here you go. I present to you... __________________________________________ [b][u]Transformations[/u][/b][u][/u] Crimban had journeyed long to reach this point. He was standing in an underground cavern, deep in the Blood Crag mountain range. He had gone without food or sleep for three days, magic as his only sustenance, a mix of burning wrath and gnawing worry his motivating force. Four days ago, the Morvandian assassin Cullevere had snuck into the manor of the Maerthan noble family in the city of Veren, kidnapping the nobleman's daughter. At the scene of crime, he had left a note that went: "Let's see your fat magician solve this one", a taunt to the portly Crimban, known in the past for foiling the ambitious empire's dreams of conquest. When the day after dawned, Crimban was on his way to rescue the girl and slay the assassin. He had chosen to go alone, knowing he could cover more ground with his magic than fifty light cavalry scouts. And so he had. Three days later, he stood a thousand miles from his starting point, in a region impassable to any horse. In front of the cave were the remnants of a campfire, still hot. His prey could not be more than a few minutes ahead. Now, Crimban was staring at what his foe must've fled through. It was a portal, he reasoned, but like no portal he had ever seen. Its uneven edges reminded him of a burst boil. The gate looked like a [b]pit[/b] gaping into the clear, blue water of some tropical ocean, yet it lay on a vertical surface. Crimban knew not what lay ahead, but the spell he used to trace the girl led through the portal. His instincts told him it was a trap, had been telling him from the moment he had read the assassin's note, but his prime goal was to find and save the young noble. Crimban swallowed, and reached to touch the portal's surface. He felt the familiar, cool tingle of a magical substance. With a deep breath, he stepped through. There was the moment of nausea that accompanied all magical travel. He reached the other side, breathing a sigh of relief when his feet met sturdy ground, and landed in a crouch, his ornate magical staff pointed forward like a spear. The room he had landed in was an opulently decorated chamber, reminiscent of a Verenna noble manor. "Well done, Crimban. We've been here for not five hours when you already come calling," said a voice from close by, tinged with amusement. The mage rose up, turning to gaze upon the speaker. He saw the man grinning in a manner that put to Crimban's mind an utter [b]psycho[/b]path, looking from over the shoulder of the Verenna girl. He held a blade at her throat, glistening with a green ointment. Poisoned blade, Crimban noted. The girl looked tired and sad, but the wizard could see no real injuries. She looked vacantly at the floor, her face streaked with tears. "If you are wondering, by the way, we are in a self-contained pocket plane. No summons can reach the outside world, or even the Upper Planes. "Don't worry of her, she is quite unharmed. I just had to put her mind to sleep to facilitate easy travel. It is not her that I have quarrel with, but you, good Crimban," the assassin said, smiling. "I thought as much, but I am here to save the girl, not bandy words with a hired blade. Release her, and you may yet walk out of here." The assassin scowled. "The girl? You wish the girl, you may have her." As he spoke, he thrust the girl at Crimban, his knife cutting deeply into her throat. Blood cascaded over the blade and his hand, as she fell to the wizard's feet, lifeless. "And now, we may get to the matter at-" The assassin was cut short by the burst of magic from Crimban's wand that hit him squarely in the chest. "I've nothing to talk with you," the wizard spoke grimly, as the assassin's amusement quickly turned to horror. The spell was no ordinary evocation, he realized, as he felt his limbs stiffen. He lost the ability to move, the sense of touch, and finally, his scream of panic froze in his throat as his lungs and finally head turned into cold, dirty grey stone. Crimban was not yet finished with the man, however. As soon as the calcification was complete, he mouthed the words to another spell. When the final words left his lips, the stone statue's other leg simply exploded into wet [b]mud[/b]. The transformation quickly spread to the other parts of the man's body that first lost their stony hardness, his limbs breaking off under their own weight, and then lost even that form, turning into wet pulp. The portly wizard looked approvingly upon what remained of his foe, and then cast the third spell. The mud regained some cohesion it'd had as a man, and the dirty gray gradually turned into fleshy pink. A pair of [b]eyes[/b] took form, looking at Crimban, imploring him to end the torment. Once the change was complete, the Morvandian assassin was but a flesh-encased puddle on the ground. Its surface rippled as it tried to use its once strong muscles that were now without the support of a skeleton. Crimban leaned closer and said: "Show a little backbone." He left the assassin there, like that. Once he was out, he sealed the portal, and then collapsed the cave it had nestled in. With the dead girl slung over his shoulder, Crimban began his trek back to Veren. She could always be resurrected. [/QUOTE]
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