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Travels through the Wild West: a Forgotten Realms Story
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1383" data-attributes="member: 143"><p><strong>Part 4</strong></p><p></p><p>Part 4</p><p></p><p>He ducked its first sweeping claw, but the second slammed into him with a force like a battering ram, knocking him roughly back. With a numbing horror he felt a cold freeze creeping through him where the thing’s claws had cut him, stiffening his body where he had fallen. He tried to fight it off, but he could only shiver in frozen fear as the undead horror loomed over him.</p><p></p><p>But before the thing could end his life, his new companions came to his aid. He heard a strange sound, and belatedly realized it was singing—singing!—coming from the diminutive bard. A bolt from Cal’s crossbow jutted out from the ogre’s shoulder, although the wound seemed to do little to hinder the massive creature. As it turned toward this new threat, Lok, finally revived by Calloran’s magic wand, slashed into it. The blow, backed by the full measure of his strength, tore a huge gash in its torso. The thing roared at him, an unnatural screech that filled the bones of all of them with fear. But Cal’s song revived their spirits as the creature’s furious cry faded, and they continued to attack it. </p><p> </p><p>The undead ogre tore at Lok with its claws and tried to catch him up in its massive and uneven jaws. The bite tore into his shoulder before the already injured fighter could pull free, and there was a moment of fear from his companions as they waited for its paralysis to take hold. But against a physical attack, as opposed to the mental power of the dark cleric, Lok’s fortitude was far greater, and he fought on. </p><p></p><p>Delem was caught on the knife’s edge between panic and determination. His instinct was to flee, but he was motivated by something to remain. Perhaps it was the connection he felt to these new friends, men who he’d barely met and yet who had welcomed him into their company. After months of running from his own inner demons, it felt good to stand his ground and fight. With a very uncharacteristic battle cry, he ran up behind the ogre, and let his magic free. The flames scored the rear of the creature, roasting its taut dead flesh and drawing its attention. Delem awaited the blow that would end it all—strangely, a part of him even welcomed it—but before it could strike, Lok brought his axe down one more time, severing the creature’s spine. Still it reached out for Delem, the hunger flaring once again in its unnatural eyes, but as the sorcerer scrambled hastily backward the undead life-force that animated the ogre finally failed, and it crashed noisily to the ground.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 1383, member: 143"] [b]Part 4[/b] Part 4 He ducked its first sweeping claw, but the second slammed into him with a force like a battering ram, knocking him roughly back. With a numbing horror he felt a cold freeze creeping through him where the thing’s claws had cut him, stiffening his body where he had fallen. He tried to fight it off, but he could only shiver in frozen fear as the undead horror loomed over him. But before the thing could end his life, his new companions came to his aid. He heard a strange sound, and belatedly realized it was singing—singing!—coming from the diminutive bard. A bolt from Cal’s crossbow jutted out from the ogre’s shoulder, although the wound seemed to do little to hinder the massive creature. As it turned toward this new threat, Lok, finally revived by Calloran’s magic wand, slashed into it. The blow, backed by the full measure of his strength, tore a huge gash in its torso. The thing roared at him, an unnatural screech that filled the bones of all of them with fear. But Cal’s song revived their spirits as the creature’s furious cry faded, and they continued to attack it. The undead ogre tore at Lok with its claws and tried to catch him up in its massive and uneven jaws. The bite tore into his shoulder before the already injured fighter could pull free, and there was a moment of fear from his companions as they waited for its paralysis to take hold. But against a physical attack, as opposed to the mental power of the dark cleric, Lok’s fortitude was far greater, and he fought on. Delem was caught on the knife’s edge between panic and determination. His instinct was to flee, but he was motivated by something to remain. Perhaps it was the connection he felt to these new friends, men who he’d barely met and yet who had welcomed him into their company. After months of running from his own inner demons, it felt good to stand his ground and fight. With a very uncharacteristic battle cry, he ran up behind the ogre, and let his magic free. The flames scored the rear of the creature, roasting its taut dead flesh and drawing its attention. Delem awaited the blow that would end it all—strangely, a part of him even welcomed it—but before it could strike, Lok brought his axe down one more time, severing the creature’s spine. Still it reached out for Delem, the hunger flaring once again in its unnatural eyes, but as the sorcerer scrambled hastily backward the undead life-force that animated the ogre finally failed, and it crashed noisily to the ground. [/QUOTE]
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