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Small Beginnings - Final Update 6/18/04, ITEOTWAWKI, AIFF!
- Thread starter Enkhidu
- Start date
Enk&D'Shai
First Post
"The State of the Story Hour," or "No One Reads This Line Anyway"
Ladies and Gentlemen. The DM of Small Beginnings!
*cue applause*
Mr. Morrus, Moderator PirateCat, members of the ENWorld community, distinguished roleplayers and fellow gamers, every year, by Tyr and in costume, we post here to consider the state of the story. This year, we gather in this thread deeply aware of decisive sessions that lie ahead.
You and I roll our dice in a time of great consequence. During this module of the Sunless Citadel, we have the duty to rescue the kidnapped children vital to our village, we have the opportunity to save dozens of lives abroad from a twigborn plague. We will work for a prosperity that is broadly shared, and we will answer every danger and every enemy that threatens the people of Icemist.
In all these days of promise and days of reckoning, we can be confident.
During the last two chapters we have seen what can be accomplished when we work together.
To lift the standards of our NPCs, we achieved a historic kobold reform which must now be carried out in every clan and in every tribe so that every kobold in Aegeal can be as loved and adored as Meepo.
To protect our village, we organized a search party, fought some rats, and are mobilizing against the threats of a new homebrew.
To bring our party out of the dungeon, we delivered the smallest dragon in a generation.
To insist on integrity in our Adventuring group, we put off tough skill checks, and we are holding out until next level.
Some might call this a good campaign. I call it a good start. Tonight I ask my players and the Readers to join me in the next bold installment of Small Beginnings.
The Player Response:
Good evening.
I want to commend the DM for his strong yet pathetic message today, and I can assure you of this: There were two writers posting in the story hour thread, but one keyboard. Like gamers that came before us, we will pay any price and bear any burden to make sure that this proud gaming group will be the first to try the next D&D version of the 21st Century.
Today, we say to our men and women readers Thank you for your patience, your input and your sacrifice. When the story hour is fully written, your names may be listed in its proudest threads.
[Insert rebuttal here, and don’t believe anything about Polymorph Spells, PC Death, and cute, furry animals]
As we look ahead to the future, we do so with the knowledge that we can never fully know what the men and women of the story hour will have accomplished; we can never know what will be the full measure of their lives, or what they will have contributed to the campaign world if they live. But one thing is certain: D’Shai is a Rat Bastard DM. Let us as players be up to that challenge.
Thank you.
Tip Of The Day:
"When titleing a story hour post, always make sure you get to the part that made the title appropriate in the first place, or be prepared to insert 'Part 2: Electric Boogaloo'."
*****
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!"
Part 1
Ashrem moved silently into the chamber, carefully watching the heaps of debris in the corner just as he had the last time the company had entered the room. Unlike their last visit, no movement could be seen or heard from the piles of stone. The feloine strained to hear more, but detected only the soft shuffling sounds of his companions from just beyond the doorway where he had left them. Destroying the Queen must have also destroyed their courage; I think we have seen the last of our rat foes. Keeping a close eye on the rocky piles despite their inactivity, Ashrem glided toward the dragon-etched door. Reaching the stone portal, the scout removed the large iron key given to them by the kobold queen and, though he had thoroughly checked the door on their last visit, the feloine again scanned the door for triggers and trap signs –Ashrem left little to chance.
A grin crept over his face as his fingers worked meticulously at the large frame, his mind happily recalling Theo’s gift from the small kobold. The gifts were a surprise to the company: most seemed not only appropriate for their recipient, but even a bit expensive based on what the feloine had seen of the kobold community. Theo’s door, however, would have been a mystery no matter who it had come from. More perturbing than the door, though, was what came after the gift giving ceremony.
Ashrem’s smile soured as he thought about their last moments at the small festival: Yusdrayl had called for silence and then beckoned the dragon-keeper forward. When Meepo stood next to the queen she began yammering to her subjects in her high-pitched squeal of a voice. The speech went on for a good length of time with Aurora trying her best to translate, but the speech was fast paced and quite emotional.
By the time the queen was finished with her presentation the room had grown as silent as the one in which Ashrem now stood, but within a few breaths the throng of kobolds had roared and surged toward the queen, arms raised in protest. According to Aurora it seemed Meepo was scheduled to be executed for his incompetence in the most honored post of Dragon Keeper. More importantly, it seemed that the Queen’s decision was not going over well with her subjects. While the dragon-keeper’s heroics had not won the heart of his queen, they seemed to have wooed his clan-mates.
But it soon became apparent that the feloine had misjudged the resourcefulness of the kobold leader, for just as the kobold masses began protesting she again called for silence, shouting that she had much more to say. The kobold mass quickly quieted and waited for their leader to speak; and speak she did.
The queen said she had pleaded with the Scorched God to spare the soul of Meepo and the Scorched God had responded. It commanded her to send the pitiful dragon-keeper with its Angel to deliver them into lands of the old master so that retribution might be repaid for the many moltings of slavery they had endured: to revisit the pain upon him in a way that only the Scorched God could, with the power of a hundred breathing dragons. It was therefore Meepo’s quest to escort the Angel and free the remaining kobold slaves or to die trying. Ashrem had known then that Yusdrayl saw Meepo as a threat to her power, and had found a convenient method of disposing of him.
The thought of helping Meepo free even more of his scaly kin still sent a rustling chill down the feloine’s furry spine, and the fact that Ander and the others agreed to it was even more disturbing. Even after the scout pointed out that Ander was a masterful tracker, and even more effective with the help of Ashrem’s own special skills, the group had agreed that a kobold scout with knowledge below the surface would be useful. Aurora had almost bounced with glee at the announcement that Meepo would be accompanying them.
Ashrem pulled his fingers back from the stone surface and sighed, his breath sending a puff of dust up from the surface of the aged door. He trusted Ander and knew that his friend was a good commander, but the ranger’s last decision weighed heavily on the feloine, and he knew only a watchful eye on the kobold would ease his fears about the dragon-keeper. One last sigh escaped his lips before he turned and motioned for his companions to join him.
“The door seems free of traps or trickery, Ander. It appears the lock is all that guards this path.” Ashrem handed the key to the woodsman as he and the others surrounded the scout.
“Okay,” the ranger replied “lets see what lies ahead. Everyone be ready - I wouldn’t put it past Yusdrayl to have a few surprises she ‘forgot’ to mention.”
Despite Ander’s lighthearted tone, Ashrem took the warning seriously and crouched down with sword drawn, ready to engage whatever lie behind the stone portal. He watched closely as the ranger inserted the oversized key into the gaping dragon maw that acted as the keyhole. The woodsman’s grunt as he turned the key and the iron squeak of rusted gears alerted the scout that the door had indeed not been opened in some time. When the metal crunching ceased, the stone slab shifted and then dropped quickly into the floor: only the lightning fast reflexes of the feloine scout saved the key before the door slipped away.
The sudden rush of stale air followed by a crashing wall of dust caused the feloine to bite back any remark he was about to make regarding the key and the predicament that they might find themselves in without it. The hacking coughs of his companions joined his as the friends were caught in the sudden whirlwind caused by the disturbance of the long untouched room. The wind soon died and the party’s light penetrated into the room in long sword-like shafts, illuminating a long room with alcove-riddled walls and a dust-covered floor.
With his enhanced sight, Ashrem saw only one other exit through the haze: a lone door stood on the opposite wall from where he entered. With the patience of his forefathers though, the feloine waited until Ander nodded before entering the room.
Once again the scout left behind his friends, carefully watching each step as he navigated his way into the room. Ashrem snaked his tail out in front of himself to brush aside the dust without disturbing the stones beneath so that his keen eyes could more clearly identify any markings that indicated a possible deterrent to passage.
As the feloine neared the center point of the room, a soft white light sprang forth from his left, bathing the entire room in its glow. Ashrem found himself temporarily blinded by the sudden illumination, and the gasps behind him indicated that he was not alone. The feloine used his hands to try and shield himself, hoping that his eyes would adjust but the intensity of the glow steadily increased until the room was basked in light so bright it seemed to be noonday underground. Then he heard the music.
It began faintly, so the feloine perked up his ears and focused on the soft melodic sound, trying to discern its direction. Failing at that, Ashrem spun in a circle eager to pinpoint the sound, but still the music eluded him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated solely on the music, clearing out all other sound. The music began to swell: dancing in his head, filling his mind with revelry, urging him toward the light.
Images and memories of times before the war - better times - flooded his senses, washing away his worry. Ashrem found himself drifting slowly toward the light, alone and carefree, unburdened by his past sins. “It’s not real.” Aurora’s voice whispered seemingly from a great distance. “It’s in your mind. Try not to listen. Concentrate on my voice.”
Ashrem tried to do as Aurora pleaded, but the music rang strongly in his heart and the light’s warm waves seemed to wash away his resolve. The feloine warrior again gave in and danced toward the light seeking its warm embrace, a longing to be lost in its euphoria overtaking him.
“Are you all mad?” Aurora yelled seemingly again from a great distance. “Look! Goblins! Snap out of it, we need you! Are you weak or just a coward too scared to fight?” The words struck Ashrem like a slap in the face and anger roared through his body, drowning out the solace of the warm music. Red with rage, the feloine spun around to bring his weapon to bear on his unseen foes.
Only when he saw the slightly swaying forms of Ander and Theo staring blankly at a small glowing sphere did he realize the truth of his situation. He noticed a slight smile Aurora’s face before she turned and began shouting to the others, trying to break the eerie spell of the glowing orb.
Ashrem felt his anger subside, but slowly the song began building in his head again, and the scout knew he had no defense for the soothing voice of the sphere: not when his past sins weighed so heavily upon him. The feloine tried to rechannel his anger to block out the sound when a pair of small hands grabbed him and pulled him back.
“I told you it would work. Talk to me, Ashrem! You have to keep talking! You have to try and fight it! C’mon Ash, talk!” Pack implored, a look of fear on the small halfling’s face.
“About what?” Ashrem remarked utterly confused.
“Anything, Anything at all to keep your mind off that thing.”
“What is that thing? What is it doing to us?” he answered at a loss for any other topic of conversation.
“It’s a Sphere of Sorrows,” the halfling replied. “Ages ago, when a person died, friends and family would pass on their grief to a Sphere. Then the Sphere would be buried with the deceased so that the living could move on. But sometimes the sorrow was so great that the Spheres took on a life of their own. When that happened, the Sphere could get mean. If you hadn’t snapped out of it, you would have stood there until the Sphere had drained you of all emotion, transforming you into some sort of zombie.”
Ashrem could feel his anger returning, this time aimed at his own shortcomings. Still, Pack continued and the feloine knew that is was just to keep their minds off the silent song. “Aurora says that she is able to resist because of the special training she received from the Academy, and that Meepo and me aren’t affected because we don’t have anything to be sad about - well none till the Sphere trapped you guys.”
The mention of the kobold’s name made the Feloine scan the room quickly in an attempt to locate it. As if reading his mind, Pack continued. “He’s in the other room. Aurora sent us out when she realized what it was. I only came back in to help you.”
“Well, I am fine now. So let us end this charade now, shall we?” Full of cold rage, the feloine turned his blade back toward the glowing orb.
“NO!” Pack grabbed onto his leg. “It’s too dangerous - we can’t destroy it, not until the others are safe.”
Not willing to admit defeat and watch his friends turn into mindless creatures, Ashrem stalked defiantly forward dragging the halfling with him. When he neared the globe, the feloine sheathed his blade while his anger drowned out the sweet song of the Sphere. Behind him, he could barely hear Aurora’s heartfelt pleadings to Theo and Ander. The scout disengaged the small bard from his leg and at the same time unshouldered his backpack.
Pack seemed to sense his intentions, having personally seen the extraordinary abilities of the magic sack, and backed away, leaving the feloine to carry out his plan. With a deep breath the feloine warrior used the pack to scoop up the glowing sphere, sending it into the mystical space inside the dimensional bag.
Ashrem clasped his hands tightly around the bag to close it, trapping the orb and its eerie light inside while the soft lullaby in his head disappeared. The feline immediately looked up and saw Ander and Theo shaking their heads as they emerged from the Sphere’s effects. Both men seemed equally distressed as Pack and Aurora explained what had happened, and Ashrem empathized knowing what it had felt like to have his burden released only to have it fall back to his shoulders. It appears I am not the only one who carries an anchor of guilt around his soul. Fighting the urge to wallow in guilt, the feloine moved away from his friends and began investigating the hallway that led from the room.
Ashrem felt his fur prickle as he examined the squat hallway. Taking to heart what Pack had said, the feloine now knew that they were in a tomb of sorts, and more often than not tombs were guarded, trapped, or both. Narrowing his eyes, the scout looked closely for indications of the trap or triggering mechanism that he knew must be present, for the hallway served no purpose other than joining two rooms.
A cleverly hidden hole, barely noticeable to even his keen eyes, finally alerted the feloine that an arrow trap was set within the walls, one set of slots on each side. Now aware of what he was up against, Ashrem reached for his toolkit within the folds of his pack. A shaft of light burst from the bag as he began to open it, causing the scout to quickly pull it shut again.
With a low growl, Ashrem once again opened the bag, but this time the opening was only large enough for his hand to slide into. Small strands of the light blinked around his arm unable to find any space between the pack’s folds and his wrist until at last he pulled his toolkit out from within.
Holding his toolkit tightly, the feloine knew that he would have to get rid of the Sorrow Sphere quickly. He relied heavily on the ability to draw what he needed out of the magical sack at a moments notice. Ashrem knew that a quick jaunt out to the deep crevice surrounding the citadel would alleviate his problem, but something tore at his heart from deep within. You were born of the sorrow that someone had for what is buried within this tomb, therefore it is only fitting that I somehow find a way to keep you here, with your beloved. His conscience sated, the feloine set about trying to disarm the trap within the small archway.
His nimble fingers worked at the cobblestone floor, where he found the triggers, set under each brick. It was soon apparent to the scout that each trigger was linked to the next and disabling one would trigger the next in line: overall a very masterful setup. Knowing that he couldn’t disable the triggers below, he began to look for the tie lines between the triggers and the actual trap. It didn’t take long before he recognized the tie lines, but as it was designed, they were too far and too high into the hallway to disable from where he stood.
“It is trapped,” The feloine remarked as he heard the familiar footpads of Ander move up behind him, “and would take far too long to disable. We are better off trying to jump it.”
“What kind of trap is it?” The woodsman replied eyeing the hallway himself.
Ashrem was about to reply when the strange scent of brimstone caught his nose.
The feloine drew Razor at the horribly familiar odor. “Demons!”
*****
Next Time!
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
Ladies and Gentlemen. The DM of Small Beginnings!
*cue applause*
Mr. Morrus, Moderator PirateCat, members of the ENWorld community, distinguished roleplayers and fellow gamers, every year, by Tyr and in costume, we post here to consider the state of the story. This year, we gather in this thread deeply aware of decisive sessions that lie ahead.
You and I roll our dice in a time of great consequence. During this module of the Sunless Citadel, we have the duty to rescue the kidnapped children vital to our village, we have the opportunity to save dozens of lives abroad from a twigborn plague. We will work for a prosperity that is broadly shared, and we will answer every danger and every enemy that threatens the people of Icemist.
In all these days of promise and days of reckoning, we can be confident.
During the last two chapters we have seen what can be accomplished when we work together.
To lift the standards of our NPCs, we achieved a historic kobold reform which must now be carried out in every clan and in every tribe so that every kobold in Aegeal can be as loved and adored as Meepo.
To protect our village, we organized a search party, fought some rats, and are mobilizing against the threats of a new homebrew.
To bring our party out of the dungeon, we delivered the smallest dragon in a generation.
To insist on integrity in our Adventuring group, we put off tough skill checks, and we are holding out until next level.
Some might call this a good campaign. I call it a good start. Tonight I ask my players and the Readers to join me in the next bold installment of Small Beginnings.
The Player Response:
Good evening.
I want to commend the DM for his strong yet pathetic message today, and I can assure you of this: There were two writers posting in the story hour thread, but one keyboard. Like gamers that came before us, we will pay any price and bear any burden to make sure that this proud gaming group will be the first to try the next D&D version of the 21st Century.
Today, we say to our men and women readers Thank you for your patience, your input and your sacrifice. When the story hour is fully written, your names may be listed in its proudest threads.
[Insert rebuttal here, and don’t believe anything about Polymorph Spells, PC Death, and cute, furry animals]
As we look ahead to the future, we do so with the knowledge that we can never fully know what the men and women of the story hour will have accomplished; we can never know what will be the full measure of their lives, or what they will have contributed to the campaign world if they live. But one thing is certain: D’Shai is a Rat Bastard DM. Let us as players be up to that challenge.
Thank you.
Tip Of The Day:
"When titleing a story hour post, always make sure you get to the part that made the title appropriate in the first place, or be prepared to insert 'Part 2: Electric Boogaloo'."
*****
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!"
Part 1
Ashrem moved silently into the chamber, carefully watching the heaps of debris in the corner just as he had the last time the company had entered the room. Unlike their last visit, no movement could be seen or heard from the piles of stone. The feloine strained to hear more, but detected only the soft shuffling sounds of his companions from just beyond the doorway where he had left them. Destroying the Queen must have also destroyed their courage; I think we have seen the last of our rat foes. Keeping a close eye on the rocky piles despite their inactivity, Ashrem glided toward the dragon-etched door. Reaching the stone portal, the scout removed the large iron key given to them by the kobold queen and, though he had thoroughly checked the door on their last visit, the feloine again scanned the door for triggers and trap signs –Ashrem left little to chance.
A grin crept over his face as his fingers worked meticulously at the large frame, his mind happily recalling Theo’s gift from the small kobold. The gifts were a surprise to the company: most seemed not only appropriate for their recipient, but even a bit expensive based on what the feloine had seen of the kobold community. Theo’s door, however, would have been a mystery no matter who it had come from. More perturbing than the door, though, was what came after the gift giving ceremony.
Ashrem’s smile soured as he thought about their last moments at the small festival: Yusdrayl had called for silence and then beckoned the dragon-keeper forward. When Meepo stood next to the queen she began yammering to her subjects in her high-pitched squeal of a voice. The speech went on for a good length of time with Aurora trying her best to translate, but the speech was fast paced and quite emotional.
By the time the queen was finished with her presentation the room had grown as silent as the one in which Ashrem now stood, but within a few breaths the throng of kobolds had roared and surged toward the queen, arms raised in protest. According to Aurora it seemed Meepo was scheduled to be executed for his incompetence in the most honored post of Dragon Keeper. More importantly, it seemed that the Queen’s decision was not going over well with her subjects. While the dragon-keeper’s heroics had not won the heart of his queen, they seemed to have wooed his clan-mates.
But it soon became apparent that the feloine had misjudged the resourcefulness of the kobold leader, for just as the kobold masses began protesting she again called for silence, shouting that she had much more to say. The kobold mass quickly quieted and waited for their leader to speak; and speak she did.
The queen said she had pleaded with the Scorched God to spare the soul of Meepo and the Scorched God had responded. It commanded her to send the pitiful dragon-keeper with its Angel to deliver them into lands of the old master so that retribution might be repaid for the many moltings of slavery they had endured: to revisit the pain upon him in a way that only the Scorched God could, with the power of a hundred breathing dragons. It was therefore Meepo’s quest to escort the Angel and free the remaining kobold slaves or to die trying. Ashrem had known then that Yusdrayl saw Meepo as a threat to her power, and had found a convenient method of disposing of him.
The thought of helping Meepo free even more of his scaly kin still sent a rustling chill down the feloine’s furry spine, and the fact that Ander and the others agreed to it was even more disturbing. Even after the scout pointed out that Ander was a masterful tracker, and even more effective with the help of Ashrem’s own special skills, the group had agreed that a kobold scout with knowledge below the surface would be useful. Aurora had almost bounced with glee at the announcement that Meepo would be accompanying them.
Ashrem pulled his fingers back from the stone surface and sighed, his breath sending a puff of dust up from the surface of the aged door. He trusted Ander and knew that his friend was a good commander, but the ranger’s last decision weighed heavily on the feloine, and he knew only a watchful eye on the kobold would ease his fears about the dragon-keeper. One last sigh escaped his lips before he turned and motioned for his companions to join him.
“The door seems free of traps or trickery, Ander. It appears the lock is all that guards this path.” Ashrem handed the key to the woodsman as he and the others surrounded the scout.
“Okay,” the ranger replied “lets see what lies ahead. Everyone be ready - I wouldn’t put it past Yusdrayl to have a few surprises she ‘forgot’ to mention.”
Despite Ander’s lighthearted tone, Ashrem took the warning seriously and crouched down with sword drawn, ready to engage whatever lie behind the stone portal. He watched closely as the ranger inserted the oversized key into the gaping dragon maw that acted as the keyhole. The woodsman’s grunt as he turned the key and the iron squeak of rusted gears alerted the scout that the door had indeed not been opened in some time. When the metal crunching ceased, the stone slab shifted and then dropped quickly into the floor: only the lightning fast reflexes of the feloine scout saved the key before the door slipped away.
The sudden rush of stale air followed by a crashing wall of dust caused the feloine to bite back any remark he was about to make regarding the key and the predicament that they might find themselves in without it. The hacking coughs of his companions joined his as the friends were caught in the sudden whirlwind caused by the disturbance of the long untouched room. The wind soon died and the party’s light penetrated into the room in long sword-like shafts, illuminating a long room with alcove-riddled walls and a dust-covered floor.
With his enhanced sight, Ashrem saw only one other exit through the haze: a lone door stood on the opposite wall from where he entered. With the patience of his forefathers though, the feloine waited until Ander nodded before entering the room.
Once again the scout left behind his friends, carefully watching each step as he navigated his way into the room. Ashrem snaked his tail out in front of himself to brush aside the dust without disturbing the stones beneath so that his keen eyes could more clearly identify any markings that indicated a possible deterrent to passage.
As the feloine neared the center point of the room, a soft white light sprang forth from his left, bathing the entire room in its glow. Ashrem found himself temporarily blinded by the sudden illumination, and the gasps behind him indicated that he was not alone. The feloine used his hands to try and shield himself, hoping that his eyes would adjust but the intensity of the glow steadily increased until the room was basked in light so bright it seemed to be noonday underground. Then he heard the music.
It began faintly, so the feloine perked up his ears and focused on the soft melodic sound, trying to discern its direction. Failing at that, Ashrem spun in a circle eager to pinpoint the sound, but still the music eluded him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated solely on the music, clearing out all other sound. The music began to swell: dancing in his head, filling his mind with revelry, urging him toward the light.
Images and memories of times before the war - better times - flooded his senses, washing away his worry. Ashrem found himself drifting slowly toward the light, alone and carefree, unburdened by his past sins. “It’s not real.” Aurora’s voice whispered seemingly from a great distance. “It’s in your mind. Try not to listen. Concentrate on my voice.”
Ashrem tried to do as Aurora pleaded, but the music rang strongly in his heart and the light’s warm waves seemed to wash away his resolve. The feloine warrior again gave in and danced toward the light seeking its warm embrace, a longing to be lost in its euphoria overtaking him.
“Are you all mad?” Aurora yelled seemingly again from a great distance. “Look! Goblins! Snap out of it, we need you! Are you weak or just a coward too scared to fight?” The words struck Ashrem like a slap in the face and anger roared through his body, drowning out the solace of the warm music. Red with rage, the feloine spun around to bring his weapon to bear on his unseen foes.
Only when he saw the slightly swaying forms of Ander and Theo staring blankly at a small glowing sphere did he realize the truth of his situation. He noticed a slight smile Aurora’s face before she turned and began shouting to the others, trying to break the eerie spell of the glowing orb.
Ashrem felt his anger subside, but slowly the song began building in his head again, and the scout knew he had no defense for the soothing voice of the sphere: not when his past sins weighed so heavily upon him. The feloine tried to rechannel his anger to block out the sound when a pair of small hands grabbed him and pulled him back.
“I told you it would work. Talk to me, Ashrem! You have to keep talking! You have to try and fight it! C’mon Ash, talk!” Pack implored, a look of fear on the small halfling’s face.
“About what?” Ashrem remarked utterly confused.
“Anything, Anything at all to keep your mind off that thing.”
“What is that thing? What is it doing to us?” he answered at a loss for any other topic of conversation.
“It’s a Sphere of Sorrows,” the halfling replied. “Ages ago, when a person died, friends and family would pass on their grief to a Sphere. Then the Sphere would be buried with the deceased so that the living could move on. But sometimes the sorrow was so great that the Spheres took on a life of their own. When that happened, the Sphere could get mean. If you hadn’t snapped out of it, you would have stood there until the Sphere had drained you of all emotion, transforming you into some sort of zombie.”
Ashrem could feel his anger returning, this time aimed at his own shortcomings. Still, Pack continued and the feloine knew that is was just to keep their minds off the silent song. “Aurora says that she is able to resist because of the special training she received from the Academy, and that Meepo and me aren’t affected because we don’t have anything to be sad about - well none till the Sphere trapped you guys.”
The mention of the kobold’s name made the Feloine scan the room quickly in an attempt to locate it. As if reading his mind, Pack continued. “He’s in the other room. Aurora sent us out when she realized what it was. I only came back in to help you.”
“Well, I am fine now. So let us end this charade now, shall we?” Full of cold rage, the feloine turned his blade back toward the glowing orb.
“NO!” Pack grabbed onto his leg. “It’s too dangerous - we can’t destroy it, not until the others are safe.”
Not willing to admit defeat and watch his friends turn into mindless creatures, Ashrem stalked defiantly forward dragging the halfling with him. When he neared the globe, the feloine sheathed his blade while his anger drowned out the sweet song of the Sphere. Behind him, he could barely hear Aurora’s heartfelt pleadings to Theo and Ander. The scout disengaged the small bard from his leg and at the same time unshouldered his backpack.
Pack seemed to sense his intentions, having personally seen the extraordinary abilities of the magic sack, and backed away, leaving the feloine to carry out his plan. With a deep breath the feloine warrior used the pack to scoop up the glowing sphere, sending it into the mystical space inside the dimensional bag.
Ashrem clasped his hands tightly around the bag to close it, trapping the orb and its eerie light inside while the soft lullaby in his head disappeared. The feline immediately looked up and saw Ander and Theo shaking their heads as they emerged from the Sphere’s effects. Both men seemed equally distressed as Pack and Aurora explained what had happened, and Ashrem empathized knowing what it had felt like to have his burden released only to have it fall back to his shoulders. It appears I am not the only one who carries an anchor of guilt around his soul. Fighting the urge to wallow in guilt, the feloine moved away from his friends and began investigating the hallway that led from the room.
Ashrem felt his fur prickle as he examined the squat hallway. Taking to heart what Pack had said, the feloine now knew that they were in a tomb of sorts, and more often than not tombs were guarded, trapped, or both. Narrowing his eyes, the scout looked closely for indications of the trap or triggering mechanism that he knew must be present, for the hallway served no purpose other than joining two rooms.
A cleverly hidden hole, barely noticeable to even his keen eyes, finally alerted the feloine that an arrow trap was set within the walls, one set of slots on each side. Now aware of what he was up against, Ashrem reached for his toolkit within the folds of his pack. A shaft of light burst from the bag as he began to open it, causing the scout to quickly pull it shut again.
With a low growl, Ashrem once again opened the bag, but this time the opening was only large enough for his hand to slide into. Small strands of the light blinked around his arm unable to find any space between the pack’s folds and his wrist until at last he pulled his toolkit out from within.
Holding his toolkit tightly, the feloine knew that he would have to get rid of the Sorrow Sphere quickly. He relied heavily on the ability to draw what he needed out of the magical sack at a moments notice. Ashrem knew that a quick jaunt out to the deep crevice surrounding the citadel would alleviate his problem, but something tore at his heart from deep within. You were born of the sorrow that someone had for what is buried within this tomb, therefore it is only fitting that I somehow find a way to keep you here, with your beloved. His conscience sated, the feloine set about trying to disarm the trap within the small archway.
His nimble fingers worked at the cobblestone floor, where he found the triggers, set under each brick. It was soon apparent to the scout that each trigger was linked to the next and disabling one would trigger the next in line: overall a very masterful setup. Knowing that he couldn’t disable the triggers below, he began to look for the tie lines between the triggers and the actual trap. It didn’t take long before he recognized the tie lines, but as it was designed, they were too far and too high into the hallway to disable from where he stood.
“It is trapped,” The feloine remarked as he heard the familiar footpads of Ander move up behind him, “and would take far too long to disable. We are better off trying to jump it.”
“What kind of trap is it?” The woodsman replied eyeing the hallway himself.
Ashrem was about to reply when the strange scent of brimstone caught his nose.
The feloine drew Razor at the horribly familiar odor. “Demons!”
*****
Next Time!
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
Last edited:
Black Bard
First Post
I really liked the concept of the Sphere of Sorrows . Quite interesting!!!
Despite the long hiatus ( a shame...
), this story hour is one of the best in ENworld!!
Oh, and I'm with Rel... Demons!!!
Despite the long hiatus ( a shame...
), this story hour is one of the best in ENworld!!Oh, and I'm with Rel... Demons!!!
Enk&D'Shai
First Post
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2
OK, Sean Connery, that's obvious.
Keanu Reeves.
What? there's no way... wait that would work. Dangit. Reese Witherspoon?
Mark Hamill.
As who?
A computer generated Meepo.
I can see that. Oh - hi there! D'Shai and I are just mulling over who would play who if Small Beginnings ever got opted for a movie (yeah, right). Who was that guy who played Mr. Belvedere?
Or maybe that guy who played Alfred in the Batman movies.
First, Beyond or Forever?
Its the same guy in all of them, isn't it?
I have no idea.
How about Michael Keaton. 'I'm Batman, I mean Ashrem.'
Doable. What do you think the readers would come up with?
I'm willing to give away some of your dice to find out. Hear that? It's contest time. The person that posts up a list of actors/characters that a) impresses me, b) makes me laugh, or c) makes fun of Enk gets a set of dice picked from Enk's dice bag.
Why my dice bag?
Because my dice actually like me.
At least its not a haiku contest. Oh, and I reserve the right to pick the dice myself (though D'Shai still splits shipping costs, dangit). The winner should expect to get a full set - 2 d20s, a d12, percentile d10s, a d8, 4 d6s, and a d4. Oh, and they won't match.
And any entry including Jean Claude Van Damme will be immediately disqualified. Bonus points if you can work Patrick Swayze into it. Double points if the actor ever starred in a John Carpenter movie.
Just to the Tip of the Day.
Tip O the Day: Sometimes an artist must create a word to properly name a third installment of a one part post."
And there you have it. A letter opener.
*****
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
“Demons!”
Ashrem voice sent a chill throughout the dank room, and Ander could almost feel the feloine’s hatred from his icy tone. The woodsman answered his friend by assuming a combat stance with his staff out before him, and watched as the rest of the small party did likewise.
“Where?” Theo growled, the fire in his voice more than a match for Ashrem’s cold hate.
“I’m not sure, but I can smell it.” The scout sniffed at the air, and before Ander could ask anything more, the feloine jumped through the squat hallway, landing perfectly on the other side. The woodsman pulled back and was about to leap over and join him when Theo rushed by his side with his flail ready.
“Theo, wait!” he tried to yell but the cleric pushed ahead too quickly and rushed into the hallway in his attempt to stay with the feline scout. Heavy arrows shot from both sides of the wall the moment the priest’s heavy boots touched down onto the patched cobblestone, both missiles punching through the cleric’s chain shirt and sinking deeply into his shoulders. Ander cringed as Theo lurched forward into the next chamber, where he crumpled down to stain the floor with fresh blood.
Ander easily propelled himself through the short hallway with an enchanted spring of Icemantle’s boots and landed next to the fallen priest. He could already hear the mechanical crank of the winding mechanism reloading the trap as he bent over to examine Theo. Before the ranger could place a hand on his companion, Theo sat up and groaned. “You youngsters have me feeling so young, I’m even starting to make mistakes like someone half my age.”
Ander frowned at the priest. “It was my fault. I should have warned you. Ash told me it was trapped.”
“Just pull the shafts out, Ander, I’ll be fine. The priests of Zuras are made of tougher stuff than that. Besides, the arrows only barely penetrated my armor and pads. Tis nothing more than a scratch.” Theo grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and the woodsman began to work the arrows free from the chain suit. The first shaft pulled quickly and cleanly, and the young man saw only the tip was touched in blood, but the second one needed more force to come free and brought a small fountain of blood with it, causing Theo to grunt in pain and nearly swoon. Ander righted the priest, who then softly began chanting, once again calling upon the might of his lord.
Ander watched, fascinated, as the wound begin to close until Aurora’s call startled him. “Meepo, stay there! Ander, help!”
The woodsman turned to see that Aurora had leapt the hallway and Meepo was now running to come join her. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Ander watched through half closed eyes as the small kobold, who seemed oblivious to any danger, padded his way straight through the hallway, his eyes never leaving the young sorceress. Arrows sprang from the wall and shattered against the flagstones sailing a full King’s Hand over his horned head.
“It’s obvious that whoever designed this place didn’t think about keeping halflings and kobolds out.” Pack remarked as he capered through the hallway following Meepo’s course. Ander could only shake his head at Pack’s smile as the arrows sailed over the bard’s cap-laden head.
“I guess that means you go first from here on out.” Theo said as he took the woodsman’s outstretched hand and lifted himself off the ground. Ander watched as Pack’s smile faded.
“Theo’s right, Pack. If these traps aren’t dangerous for you, you should probably lead the way.” Ander just barely contained himself as he spoke.
“But…” Pack’s bottom lip was beginning to quiver.
“Don’t worry, lad, it’s not like we’ll let anything eat you.
“Eat me?” The halfling looked as if was ready to cry.
Ander couldn’t hold it any longer and began laughing: he snickered at first, until Theo let out a deep guffaw. Before long, the two warriors, young and old, leaned on each other for support as they laughed long and hard. Then Pack began chuckling as well as realization crept over him. Aurora joined in as well.
They laughed long and hard, if quietly, and Ander felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything that had come on their journey had been horrible – the news that the children were to be sacrificed, his hazy, dragon laden flight from the goblins, the Sphere…
That last was the worst.
I really needed this, he thought. We all did.
Suddenly, Ashrem let out a warning growl and quieted the group; in unison they turned to face the feloine, once again concentrating on the task at hand. The scout stood next to another stone slab door, tracing its strange runes and outlines with his claws. “The demon, and I believe there is only one from the smell of it, lies on the other side of this door, but I cannot find any mechanism for opening it, nor can I tell what these markings might mean.”
Ander paused to consider the situation. The woodsman had never encountered a demon before, but his childhood had been filled with tales of the demon wars and the nightmarish creatures that they were. Still, he stood next to two experienced warriors, both of which had been involved in that holocaust and had personally fought the abominations. “Ash, Theo, do you think we should go on? I mean, if the demon is trapped, couldn’t we be helping it to escape? Are we gathering more wood than we can burn?”
The room grew deathly silent. It seemed to the woodsman that each warrior wrestled with their own demons, reflecting on some inner turmoil before offering an answer to Ander’s question. He looked to each of his companions: even Pack stood by silently, fidgeting to himself yet lost in thought just as the others were. Aurora, who was examining strange runes on the dragon covered door, was the only one not deep in contemplation.
“Ander, I cannot speak for Theo, though he did fight in the war, but I sometimes forget that so much time has past since the war and that you grew up with only stories and tales of the evil that these creatures carry with them. I have seen this evil with my own eyes and I bear the scars of their evil - both on my face and in my spirit. I tell you now that I cannot and will not walk away from one as long as the means to dispose of it are within my power. I have watched each of you fight over the last few days and I would gladly stand by your side to cut this demon down.”
“By Zuras with a lightning strike!” Theo echoed as Pack puffed his chest and pulled a dagger.
“Stars!” Aurora’s exclamation confused the woodsman, and it appeared his fellows as well, as they all turned to face the sorceress.
“Stars?” The woodsman stared at the sorceress trying to make some sense of the single word.
“Yes, stars. That was the answer to this riddle. See? The door is opening.” As the sorceress answered the graven door behind her glowed, outlining symbols etched in some strange language. The loud grinding of stone on stone emphasized her answer.
Immediately realizing their danger, Ander rushed forward to block the doorway before anything could get out. His new sword held before him, the woodsman peered into the new room, scanning for any signs of its inhabitant. Only small clouds of settling dust and a cool breeze awaited him though as Ashrem pulled up behind him. “I don’t see anything Ash.”
“There is a pit on the far side of the room and the stench of devil-kin is unmistakable. Be ready.” Ander felt Ashrem’s hand on his shoulder and in unison the pair moved into the new chamber, angling forward until they stood back to back scanning the room.
Ander could now see the large pit Ashrem had mentioned. It separated the chamber from another, and beyond the pit he could see a light source flickering down a passage. The ranger, however, did not see any evidence that anything inhabited this room: something as simple as a footprint or drag mark should have shown deeply in the thick layers of dust that coated the floor, even in the flickering light from Pack’s torch and Aurora’s light. He was not, however, about to discard Ashrem’s feline senses in favor of his own unsure tracking skill over this stone and mortar.
Theo’s pained cry, followed by a high-pitched giggling laugh, jolted the two warriors into a run back towards the riddle room. There the ranger saw a nightmare come to life: it wasn’t that it looked all that fearsome – it was no larger than the family cat, Aris – but it’s red skin, barbed tail, wings, and claws did nothing to hide the palpable evil Ander felt wash over him as he neared it.
“I’m free! I’m free!” it cackled as it danced in the air above Theo. The beast turned to face the pair as they barreled into the chamber, “More presents for me? How nice to have a feast before I again roam the sun-side of this little world!”
Ander moved forward trying to divert the scorpion-tailed creature’s attention away from Theo, who was trying unsuccessfully to stand back up. The woodsman could see a large welt growing on the priest’s neck and he knew that his friend was poisoned and needed attention immediately.
Springing forward, the woodsman reached out and brought his sword across his body with both hands, striking the beast soundly on its left wing. The creature spun in a complete circle in the air, whooping and cackling with glee, but otherwise unharmed. It’s like striking stone! Then the creature slowly turned to smile directly at the young woodsman, sending a chill down the young man’s spine at the sight of the long barbed tail whipping to and fro.
Ander did a dance of his own; as the tail snaked forward missing his own neck by a cat’s whisker. The beast was poised for a second strike when Ander heard Aurora’s familiar cry. Azure dragons flew directly at the tiny devil but dissipated in a puff of smoke before contacting the creature’s leathery hide.
Aurora’s display brought on another burst of laughter from the flying devil, which ended only when Ashrem’s voice cut it off. The feloine spoke in a strange tongue that seemed harsh and out of place coming from his normally cultured pipes.
“Careful, mortal, or your pathetic attempt at the True Tongue might not have the effect you desire…” The imp turned its attention solely on the feloine, as Ander seized the cue to yank Theo over toward Aurora and Pack.
“The only thing I desire is your destruction.” The feloine replied as he loaded his crossbow.
“Your toys mean nothing to one conceived in the Realm of Pain. You have one shot, mortal, and then I shall laugh as I poke your eyes out and feast on your innards while you still live.”
The feloine did not blink as he took aim and pulled back on the crossbow’s release, the mechanism spitting out the bolt like the snap of the hooded snakes Ander had seen in his youth. The iron missile flew forward to strike its target directly in the horned head before falling straight down to the floor. The winged devil again began to laugh and dance, frolicking in the air.
Ander looked down at the seemingly useless little bolt and back at the flying devil, a smile forming on his face as wide as the one that Ashrem himself now sported as he recognized the missile for what it was: one of the feloine’s special bolts left over from his service during the demon wars. The scout had once told him that the missiles were specially blessed by the servants of the War Maiden Balsta, meant to pierce the evil aura that protected demons.
Suddenly, the Imp’s frolicking turned to wild contortions as the creature tore at its head with its claws. “What have you done? The pain!”
Ander watched as energy crackled around the devil causing the creature’s leathery hide to blister and crack like mud on a dry sunny day. Shafts of brilliant light emanating from deep within pierced the devil’s limbs, growing brighter with each passing breath, until with a bright flash all that remained was a bit of smoke and a few ashes that drifted silently towards the floor.
*****
Next Time
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 3: Electric Booga...lee?
OK, Sean Connery, that's obvious.
Keanu Reeves.
What? there's no way... wait that would work. Dangit. Reese Witherspoon?
Mark Hamill.
As who?
A computer generated Meepo.
I can see that. Oh - hi there! D'Shai and I are just mulling over who would play who if Small Beginnings ever got opted for a movie (yeah, right). Who was that guy who played Mr. Belvedere?
Or maybe that guy who played Alfred in the Batman movies.
First, Beyond or Forever?
Its the same guy in all of them, isn't it?
I have no idea.
How about Michael Keaton. 'I'm Batman, I mean Ashrem.'
Doable. What do you think the readers would come up with?
I'm willing to give away some of your dice to find out. Hear that? It's contest time. The person that posts up a list of actors/characters that a) impresses me, b) makes me laugh, or c) makes fun of Enk gets a set of dice picked from Enk's dice bag.
Why my dice bag?
Because my dice actually like me.
At least its not a haiku contest. Oh, and I reserve the right to pick the dice myself (though D'Shai still splits shipping costs, dangit). The winner should expect to get a full set - 2 d20s, a d12, percentile d10s, a d8, 4 d6s, and a d4. Oh, and they won't match.
And any entry including Jean Claude Van Damme will be immediately disqualified. Bonus points if you can work Patrick Swayze into it. Double points if the actor ever starred in a John Carpenter movie.
Just to the Tip of the Day.
Tip O the Day: Sometimes an artist must create a word to properly name a third installment of a one part post."
And there you have it. A letter opener.
*****
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
“Demons!”
Ashrem voice sent a chill throughout the dank room, and Ander could almost feel the feloine’s hatred from his icy tone. The woodsman answered his friend by assuming a combat stance with his staff out before him, and watched as the rest of the small party did likewise.
“Where?” Theo growled, the fire in his voice more than a match for Ashrem’s cold hate.
“I’m not sure, but I can smell it.” The scout sniffed at the air, and before Ander could ask anything more, the feloine jumped through the squat hallway, landing perfectly on the other side. The woodsman pulled back and was about to leap over and join him when Theo rushed by his side with his flail ready.
“Theo, wait!” he tried to yell but the cleric pushed ahead too quickly and rushed into the hallway in his attempt to stay with the feline scout. Heavy arrows shot from both sides of the wall the moment the priest’s heavy boots touched down onto the patched cobblestone, both missiles punching through the cleric’s chain shirt and sinking deeply into his shoulders. Ander cringed as Theo lurched forward into the next chamber, where he crumpled down to stain the floor with fresh blood.
Ander easily propelled himself through the short hallway with an enchanted spring of Icemantle’s boots and landed next to the fallen priest. He could already hear the mechanical crank of the winding mechanism reloading the trap as he bent over to examine Theo. Before the ranger could place a hand on his companion, Theo sat up and groaned. “You youngsters have me feeling so young, I’m even starting to make mistakes like someone half my age.”
Ander frowned at the priest. “It was my fault. I should have warned you. Ash told me it was trapped.”
“Just pull the shafts out, Ander, I’ll be fine. The priests of Zuras are made of tougher stuff than that. Besides, the arrows only barely penetrated my armor and pads. Tis nothing more than a scratch.” Theo grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and the woodsman began to work the arrows free from the chain suit. The first shaft pulled quickly and cleanly, and the young man saw only the tip was touched in blood, but the second one needed more force to come free and brought a small fountain of blood with it, causing Theo to grunt in pain and nearly swoon. Ander righted the priest, who then softly began chanting, once again calling upon the might of his lord.
Ander watched, fascinated, as the wound begin to close until Aurora’s call startled him. “Meepo, stay there! Ander, help!”
The woodsman turned to see that Aurora had leapt the hallway and Meepo was now running to come join her. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Ander watched through half closed eyes as the small kobold, who seemed oblivious to any danger, padded his way straight through the hallway, his eyes never leaving the young sorceress. Arrows sprang from the wall and shattered against the flagstones sailing a full King’s Hand over his horned head.
“It’s obvious that whoever designed this place didn’t think about keeping halflings and kobolds out.” Pack remarked as he capered through the hallway following Meepo’s course. Ander could only shake his head at Pack’s smile as the arrows sailed over the bard’s cap-laden head.
“I guess that means you go first from here on out.” Theo said as he took the woodsman’s outstretched hand and lifted himself off the ground. Ander watched as Pack’s smile faded.
“Theo’s right, Pack. If these traps aren’t dangerous for you, you should probably lead the way.” Ander just barely contained himself as he spoke.
“But…” Pack’s bottom lip was beginning to quiver.
“Don’t worry, lad, it’s not like we’ll let anything eat you.
“Eat me?” The halfling looked as if was ready to cry.
Ander couldn’t hold it any longer and began laughing: he snickered at first, until Theo let out a deep guffaw. Before long, the two warriors, young and old, leaned on each other for support as they laughed long and hard. Then Pack began chuckling as well as realization crept over him. Aurora joined in as well.
They laughed long and hard, if quietly, and Ander felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything that had come on their journey had been horrible – the news that the children were to be sacrificed, his hazy, dragon laden flight from the goblins, the Sphere…
That last was the worst.
I really needed this, he thought. We all did.
Suddenly, Ashrem let out a warning growl and quieted the group; in unison they turned to face the feloine, once again concentrating on the task at hand. The scout stood next to another stone slab door, tracing its strange runes and outlines with his claws. “The demon, and I believe there is only one from the smell of it, lies on the other side of this door, but I cannot find any mechanism for opening it, nor can I tell what these markings might mean.”
Ander paused to consider the situation. The woodsman had never encountered a demon before, but his childhood had been filled with tales of the demon wars and the nightmarish creatures that they were. Still, he stood next to two experienced warriors, both of which had been involved in that holocaust and had personally fought the abominations. “Ash, Theo, do you think we should go on? I mean, if the demon is trapped, couldn’t we be helping it to escape? Are we gathering more wood than we can burn?”
The room grew deathly silent. It seemed to the woodsman that each warrior wrestled with their own demons, reflecting on some inner turmoil before offering an answer to Ander’s question. He looked to each of his companions: even Pack stood by silently, fidgeting to himself yet lost in thought just as the others were. Aurora, who was examining strange runes on the dragon covered door, was the only one not deep in contemplation.
“Ander, I cannot speak for Theo, though he did fight in the war, but I sometimes forget that so much time has past since the war and that you grew up with only stories and tales of the evil that these creatures carry with them. I have seen this evil with my own eyes and I bear the scars of their evil - both on my face and in my spirit. I tell you now that I cannot and will not walk away from one as long as the means to dispose of it are within my power. I have watched each of you fight over the last few days and I would gladly stand by your side to cut this demon down.”
“By Zuras with a lightning strike!” Theo echoed as Pack puffed his chest and pulled a dagger.
“Stars!” Aurora’s exclamation confused the woodsman, and it appeared his fellows as well, as they all turned to face the sorceress.
“Stars?” The woodsman stared at the sorceress trying to make some sense of the single word.
“Yes, stars. That was the answer to this riddle. See? The door is opening.” As the sorceress answered the graven door behind her glowed, outlining symbols etched in some strange language. The loud grinding of stone on stone emphasized her answer.
Immediately realizing their danger, Ander rushed forward to block the doorway before anything could get out. His new sword held before him, the woodsman peered into the new room, scanning for any signs of its inhabitant. Only small clouds of settling dust and a cool breeze awaited him though as Ashrem pulled up behind him. “I don’t see anything Ash.”
“There is a pit on the far side of the room and the stench of devil-kin is unmistakable. Be ready.” Ander felt Ashrem’s hand on his shoulder and in unison the pair moved into the new chamber, angling forward until they stood back to back scanning the room.
Ander could now see the large pit Ashrem had mentioned. It separated the chamber from another, and beyond the pit he could see a light source flickering down a passage. The ranger, however, did not see any evidence that anything inhabited this room: something as simple as a footprint or drag mark should have shown deeply in the thick layers of dust that coated the floor, even in the flickering light from Pack’s torch and Aurora’s light. He was not, however, about to discard Ashrem’s feline senses in favor of his own unsure tracking skill over this stone and mortar.
Theo’s pained cry, followed by a high-pitched giggling laugh, jolted the two warriors into a run back towards the riddle room. There the ranger saw a nightmare come to life: it wasn’t that it looked all that fearsome – it was no larger than the family cat, Aris – but it’s red skin, barbed tail, wings, and claws did nothing to hide the palpable evil Ander felt wash over him as he neared it.
“I’m free! I’m free!” it cackled as it danced in the air above Theo. The beast turned to face the pair as they barreled into the chamber, “More presents for me? How nice to have a feast before I again roam the sun-side of this little world!”
Ander moved forward trying to divert the scorpion-tailed creature’s attention away from Theo, who was trying unsuccessfully to stand back up. The woodsman could see a large welt growing on the priest’s neck and he knew that his friend was poisoned and needed attention immediately.
Springing forward, the woodsman reached out and brought his sword across his body with both hands, striking the beast soundly on its left wing. The creature spun in a complete circle in the air, whooping and cackling with glee, but otherwise unharmed. It’s like striking stone! Then the creature slowly turned to smile directly at the young woodsman, sending a chill down the young man’s spine at the sight of the long barbed tail whipping to and fro.
Ander did a dance of his own; as the tail snaked forward missing his own neck by a cat’s whisker. The beast was poised for a second strike when Ander heard Aurora’s familiar cry. Azure dragons flew directly at the tiny devil but dissipated in a puff of smoke before contacting the creature’s leathery hide.
Aurora’s display brought on another burst of laughter from the flying devil, which ended only when Ashrem’s voice cut it off. The feloine spoke in a strange tongue that seemed harsh and out of place coming from his normally cultured pipes.
“Careful, mortal, or your pathetic attempt at the True Tongue might not have the effect you desire…” The imp turned its attention solely on the feloine, as Ander seized the cue to yank Theo over toward Aurora and Pack.
“The only thing I desire is your destruction.” The feloine replied as he loaded his crossbow.
“Your toys mean nothing to one conceived in the Realm of Pain. You have one shot, mortal, and then I shall laugh as I poke your eyes out and feast on your innards while you still live.”
The feloine did not blink as he took aim and pulled back on the crossbow’s release, the mechanism spitting out the bolt like the snap of the hooded snakes Ander had seen in his youth. The iron missile flew forward to strike its target directly in the horned head before falling straight down to the floor. The winged devil again began to laugh and dance, frolicking in the air.
Ander looked down at the seemingly useless little bolt and back at the flying devil, a smile forming on his face as wide as the one that Ashrem himself now sported as he recognized the missile for what it was: one of the feloine’s special bolts left over from his service during the demon wars. The scout had once told him that the missiles were specially blessed by the servants of the War Maiden Balsta, meant to pierce the evil aura that protected demons.
Suddenly, the Imp’s frolicking turned to wild contortions as the creature tore at its head with its claws. “What have you done? The pain!”
Ander watched as energy crackled around the devil causing the creature’s leathery hide to blister and crack like mud on a dry sunny day. Shafts of brilliant light emanating from deep within pierced the devil’s limbs, growing brighter with each passing breath, until with a bright flash all that remained was a bit of smoke and a few ashes that drifted silently towards the floor.
*****
Next Time
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 3: Electric Booga...lee?
